#frankie is literally always helping me find something

[sayingyournames]

if I had a dollar for every time I thought my AirPods were lost but they’re actually just shoved to the bottom of my nightstand drawer then I would have enough money to buy a few more pairs so I can just keep a set in my car/bag/everywhere

[jolapeno]

coming under the christmas tree

frankie morales x f!reader | masterlist

summary: The way he whispers your name should be a sin—it coating the air, making each letter feel important, essential—as your hands find his belt, undoing it, the sound cutting through all else, even burying a whispered expletive that falls from his tongue. “Do you know how hot you look right now, Morales?”

warnings: explicit. 18+. smut. literal porn from me. oral (m recieving), p in v, praise (jo has a thing, run with it), frankie being gorgeous, minor cock worship, christmas themes.

wordcount: 2.8k an: i wrote this little imagine and then the gorgeous, wonderful @wildemaven created this moodboard (which inspired the banner) and then i decided to write more.

Putting up a tree with anyone is a chore, but with him, it’s a blessing.

It isn’t because it’s him, because you’re dating, because he makes you laugh and makes your toes curl at any time of the day. But, rather, because he wants to do it. Because he’s methodical. Always thinking, turning—planning.

Whether it’s routes to get somewhere, timing on when to leave when the two of you have reservations or whether your grand plans for a room rearrangement, Frankie plots it out and makes measurements in his head. He’s always right, not that he ever gloats—just nods as though it’s entirely normal.

It isn’t—it’s fucking hot.

Something you expect, and thankfully do, come face to face with when the branches are all in place on the half-dressed Christmas tree. The clear plastic boxes strewn across the living room, his fingers slowly undoing and unknotting the lights you’d haphazardly thrown in the box last year.

You know the answer, but you ask all the same: “You want me to help with that?”

He doesn’t answer, just gives you a look. A blend of ‘be serious’ and ‘you’re good’ cuts across his features, making his eyes warmer and his smile kinder.

Before he even sets about winding them through the branches, you can tell he’s created a light-path. Already heard him mumbling that they don’t go all the way around, remember earlier. His eyes glancing up at it, making mental notes, calculating a route—brown eyes skating and shifting side to side.

You just remain on the floor, legs crossed—checking over the ornaments for nicks or scratches—admiring. You do it a lot, admire him, take him in—gawk, trace your eyes over him so when you blink you don’t waste a second not seeing him.

“We can always buy another set?” you offer, watching him bend behind the armchair, plugging them in, plunging the room in a soft, white glow.

Grinning, Frankie brushes some loose strands from over his eyes, “No need, baby. I’ve got it.”

He does. You weren’t surprised his devised path makes the base of the tree already look full—no section unlit, each bit of cable hidden from sight, blending perfectly with the tree. You were even sure if you turned it 180, the back currently in the corner would even be lit.

It isn’t that which makes your mouth drool.

It also isn’t the way the twinkle of the lights has hit the brown of his eyes when he lets his gaze fall to you, making it appear like a galaxy has burst in them—a sky full of stars, all staring at you.

No. It’s the way the entirety of him is lit up. Practically glowing. It enhances how stretched out he is, practically in a straight line. His arms above his head, fingers delicately wrapping the lights around the tip of the tree. It shines light over the slither of skin exposed from his shirt rising; it makes it more evident that his tongue is poking out, resting on his bottom lip, eyes trained on the job at hand, his priority, his task.

You flutter around nothing.

Feel your heart stammer in your chest as you devour the sight of him whole.

Placing the ornament in the good-to-hang pile, you don’t even pretend to glance at it. Too busy drinking in the sight of the lines on his arms from flexing—those strong, arms which carried the tree down from the attic. Little beads of sweat had clung to his forehead then, having needed to shift things around, move them—move baby, don’t want you to get hurt.

You were something akin to pain now. Desperate, needy and fucking feral. Your throat all dry while your tongue felt heavy, eyes sliding down his frame, focusing on the hairs on his stomach, all exposed, beckoning to be touched, to have your tongue slide down over it.

You only blink when he clears his throat, looking up, finding his eyes on you—tracing over your face, slightly narrowed, attempting to read you.

Another day, you might shy away from it. Look away first, wait until he calls your name and pleads for you to look at him. Today, you don’t. Slowly rising onto your knees, holding his stare, commanding him to blink as little as possible:

Watch me, Morales. Keep your eyes on me.

Sliding your tongue across your bottom lip, your teeth finding a resting place on it—fingers sliding to his hips, watching his hand release the lights, forehead smoothing, any and all confusing lines fading away.

The way he whispers your name should be a sin—it coating the air, making each letter feel important, essential—as your hands find his belt, undoing it, the sound cutting through all else, even burying a whispered expletive that falls from his tongue.

“Do you know how hot you look right now, Morales?”

Your fingers undo the button, tracing your tongue again over your lip—hungry, practically salivating—as you slide the zip through the teeth. His gaze is still on you, unwavering, a shadow of surprise in the back of his eyes that this is even happening—as though he is still taken back by the fact he deserves this, deserves you.

“You want me to suck your cock, baby?”

His swallow fills the room—loud, vociferous. Your palm brushes over the hardened bulge, tracing the outline over the thin cotton which remained a barrier between his velvet skin and your tongue.

“I really wanna suck your cock,” you add, purring, practically drooling as you notice the wet stain appearing—blooming, stretching out—as one hand falls from the tree, cupping the side of your mouth.

You like him like this, quiet, taken off guard. So often it is him doing it to you, saying all the right things, whispering all the words which make your skin feel like fire.

When you finally let his cock spring free, you waste no time licking a stripe up the side, tongue flat, brushing over veins as your hands tease the fabric down to the tops of his knees, resting on the jeans that remain there, pointless, likely mildly annoying for him. Not that he’ll care in a second. Less so for now when your fingers wrap around him, take his girth in your palm, warmth spreading over your palm as you slowly pump him up and down, collecting your first few hisses, and a little groan.

You marvel at him—at his cock. How thick it is, how long. How you know it feels between your thighs, how it makes your toes curl. Pressing kissing to the leaking tip, wrapping your lips around the head, hand working the length of him as you make your lips slick, coat them in desire, before you take as much of him as you can. Your tongue pressed to the underside, mouth basked in the taste of salt and just him, as your jaw stretched to accommodate him, to willfully take more, and more.

“Don’t know—fuck, baby—what I did to deserve you.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, burning under the praise, under his praise. Your head bobbing, wanting to show gratitude by taking more of him. Cheeks hollowing, his fingers sliding around the back of your head, a comforting hold, a calming one as you relax your throat, wanting to be full of him. Fiercely so.

Tears even prick at your eyes, and your fingers dig into the back of his thighs, lifting off, swirling your tongue around him, running your teeth lightly over him, before swallowing as much of him as you can. Willing for him to smear your throat in him, leave you tasting him with each swallow for the rest of the afternoon.

“Wanna fin—fuck—ish inside you,” he grunts, curls plastered to his forehead, cheeks flushed—neck stained in pink.

You moan in response, closing your lips around him as you’re sure your underwear is clinging to you, drenched in want.

You’re half-tempted to slide your fingers inside the band of your shorts, passed the red lace you chose this morning, not even sure if you’d be unwrapped before or after the erection of the tree. Midway through hadn’t crossed your mind. Had never counted on this, never would have made a bet.

But, then he drags himself out, tip hovering at your lips giving you a look—sharp, uncharacteristic of him. “I want to fuck you, baby. Make you feel good.”

Tongue swirling over, he appears to shudder, eyes fluttering, before he pulls the rest free from your mouth. Spit smearing your lip, snapped in the space between where the two of you had been connected.

“You always make me feel good, Frankie.”

Smirking, his arm flexes briefly as he takes hold of his cock. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

And you don’t miss the reference. Not so drunk on him that you don’t remember your own words from before—but you just nod. A retort growing and dying, as you do.

“Spread your legs and show me.”

And you do. Leaning back, sliding onto your rear, your fingers slide your clothing down your legs, kicking it off past your ankles, passed the fluffy socks you’d stolen from him. Bare from the waist down, just for him—always for him. Letting your arms support you from behind, you tilt your head. In awe of him once again as he wraps his hand around his cock, the size even more impressive when you know how big his hands are—your own nails digging into the rug under your palms and ass.

“C’mon, show me you want me.”

You whimper, spreading your knees, letting them part until they’re hovering just above the floor on either side.

The cool air kissing over you, a gasp desperate to emerge but dies somewhere in your throat—swallowed up by a moan at the way he views you. The way his eyes rake up and down you like this is the first time he’s seen you, and not the billionth.

Like all the things he does, it’s with precision the way he rids himself of being contained by his jeans and underwear. Lowering himself to his knees between yours, you lean forward, lips finding his—messy, needy. Need you, they kiss, fuck me, they plead.

His mouth remains on you, only letting enough words escape to tell you to keep his jumper on when your fingers slide his t-shirt up and over his head. He rewards your obedience by letting his hand fall from himself to you—tracing, languid circles on your swollen clit, until he pushes two fingers in. You shift your hips into him, hearing him moan distantly at the feel of how wet you are, whispered praises given that are too far away as your mind rendered nothing (emptied, lost)—

Because he’s electric, you swear. Not even sure the lights need plugging in, you swear he could touch them and they’d illuminate—at least from the way he sparks enough in you to light the whole house up. Making it run, dart, a heavy current that dashes through your veins.

It’s why you whimper at the loss of him—only stopping yourself from whining when you feel him trace his cock through your folds, teasing, tracing up and down as the head of him nudges your clit, watching you, focused on the way your mouth must be parted and the likely sheen on your face.

And, you’re about to say his name—more in warning, in hunger. His body presses you down flush to the floor, the back of your hips meeting the fluff of the rug, as his mouth slides over your jaw, fingers dancing along your thigh, writing words, with the pads of them—leaving teasing verses against your skin.

“Stop teasing,” you say sharply.

Watching your words have their desired effect—that shy smile that grows into a confident smirk. The one you witness more than anyone else, the one you think of when you’re alone in the bed you share and it’s only his voice you have down the phone when your mind tries to pretend your fingers are his.

It’s slow, gentle, the way he begins to line up, pausing at your entrance—keeping you hanging, delicately placed there, held up by string as his breath paints what he wants to do to you against your neck. But you don’t hear it, can’t untangle the tale, least of all when he begins pressing in, sliding in inch by inch—

He’s big. And it makes you breathe deeply as you stretch around him. It makes you shiver. Makes you moan as he buries himself to the hilt, hips flush with yours.

“So good for me,” he praises before his lips slope over yours.

His hips begin to move, and each drag of his cock in and out makes you moan. The sound of you swallowing him, taking every inch of him he’ll give, is the soundtrack; the backdrop being the halo of lights above the two of you. It lights him, kisses along the varying shades that make up his curls, the browns, the beginning greys.

And you’re soaked, drenched—can feel it around where the two of you are joined, each slow drag in and out making it more apparent as you capture his lips. Breathlessly doing so, looping fingers around his neck, tugging lightly on his hair, curling into him, needing him deeper as your legs wrap around him.

It’s then the tip of him hits that spot, all unhurried. A motion he seeks, centres in on as he thrusts again, abutting it, making your eyes close and your mouth stretch each syllable of his name out in a whine. It makes you forget how to speak, and which language to utter. Barely a word for each finger can even come to mind, it’s mostly just his name. Frankie. Frankie. Please, Frankie as the air crackles around you.

He answers—he always does. His hand slides between your sweaty bodies, and finds the bundle of nerves calling out to him, the place which yearns. Doing so with accuracy, and exactness, as he draws shapes, lines and the fucking alphabet until you’re seeing stars, until it’s so hot you swear the jumper will peel from your skin and your head is nothing but a dizzying mess of him, just him. It makes you frantic to see him, outline his face, all cast in shadows because he’s turned away from the lights which made him look ethereal only moments ago.

His cock throbs inside of you, everything else curling inside your stomach, walls twitching around him as you tighten, vice-like, making him hiss. A sound which makes molten spread through you, more so when his mouth slides to your ear, breath laboured, along your skin, begging for you to come, needing you to, please, baby, please.

“S’close, Frankie.”

“I know—doing so well, so perfect for me.”

The words unlock something as a new pace is set, it more unforgiving, one that’ll likely leave marks on his knees from the friction on the rug, as you writhe and cling, half-moons left on his neck, digging in, marking him in the same way he’ll mark your walls in a moment or two.

Then, it floods over you. Drowns you. Coats you from head to toe as though you’ve been plunged in pleasure, left gasping, breath struggling to be located. Your mouth latched to his, burning your thanks into his mouth, your entire body tingling as he fucks you through it, until he’s thrusting aimlessly, so damn close until your name leaves the back of his throat in a sob, a blend of pleasure and relief strewn across his face as he comes deep inside of you. Hips slowing to a stammer, lowering himself down till he’s flush with you, before they come to a stop.

Then, it’s just his pants that meet your strained breaths, until a little hiss as he pulls himself out of you. Leaving you empty, sore in a way you’re grateful for, as his fingers trace over your chin, along your jaw, words being thought in slow bubbles as he stares at you.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Narrowing your eyes, you slide a hand to his hip, pinching.

“Just love that puttin’ lights up made you wanna suck my cock, is all.”

Smiling, you run your knuckles along his cheek, and brush past the wiry hair that makes up his patchy beard. “Wait till you see me hand the baubles, bet you’ll wanna be on your knees for me.”

“Good,” he replies. “I’m really hoping to taste how good we are together once we’re done.”

an: i freaking loved writing this, oh my.

i don't usually do taglists, but just tagging a few people who seemed interested in the longer version (sorry if this is annoying): @thetriumphantpanda @swiftispunk @5oh5 @morallyinept @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @reddedmiller @yorksgirl @missredherring @tvversionperson @secretelephanttattoo

[itsgreti]

THE NEW BOUNCER

pairing. elwood dalton x f!reader

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

warning. cursing, mentions of physical injuries

word count. 1,2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who the hell are you?" Dell sneered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[chvoswxtch]

that Jon con story was 😳😳🫠 my soul woulda left my body on the spot 😮‍💨 tbh I dunno that I could survive being in the same room as him 🫣 but it’s funny cause ✨ hands ✨ was literally my Frankie request

Like

Imagine you’re in a new relationship with Frankie, slowly testing the waters cause who ain’t a bit broken these days

and you got a thing for ✨ hands ✨ and you think you’re being discreet when you stare at his hands while they do pretty much anything BUT Frankie ain’t a dummy and has noticed and wants to test his theory that you really really like his hands

👀🙏🏻🫠😮‍💨

babes it's the way we literally share the same brain cell bc those HANDS, as soon as I saw this request I literally dropped everything and started working on it. thank you for requesting this and inspiring me to thirst over frankie's hands and helping me kick off this week of celebration. ✨ I adore YOU so MUCH. ❤️

warning: contain explicit sexual content. as always, minors please dni. btw the jon con story in reference can be found here. :) word count: 3.1k

everyone say thank you to my sweet angel baby @jwjeepers for this lovely request to start off this week of celebrating my 500 followers friends milestone! happy slutting over frankie! 🖤

don't hold back.

It was subtle at first. You had a habit of zoning out when you vanished into your thoughts, or were concentrating really hard on something. Frank had noticed it very early on. Sometimes you would disappear for a little bit, getting lost in your own stream of consciousness before finding your way back to him. Frank didn’t think much of it. He found it kind of endearing, actually. He always wondered though, what exactly was going through your head when you had that far off look in your eyes. He wondered what you daydreamed about, and where you went when you stared off into space, curious if he ever popped up in any of those scenes.

The first hint was a few weeks ago when you and Frank had met up with some of your friends for drinks. Frank was in the middle of telling a story, animatedly moving his hands around as he did so, when he caught your gaze out of the corner of his eye. Your eyes were following every single movement of his hands. He didn’t think much of it at first, figuring you were probably just trying to paint a clear picture in your head, so he brushed it off. But then he caught you doing it again. And again. And again. Everytime he used his hands to speak, your eyes were glued to them. Throughout the night as the alcohol dulled your inhibitions, you were more reckless with your lingering stares. Frank had even caught the way you trapped your bottom lip between your teeth when he wrapped his fingers around the neck of his beer bottle, and his curiosity peaked. 

Your relationship was still very new, both of you trying to figure out how to navigate it as cautiously as possible. He was still healing from another lifetime of pain and loss, a piece of him knowing he always would be. You were hypervigilant with your heart due to your mother being an incurable romantic currently on husband number four. Sometimes he thought it was a marvel you two were even together. Frank never talked more than he had to, and you were more on the shy and quiet side. It had taken Frank just as long to get you to open up to him about your feelings as it had taken you to get him to open up about his. He never imagined he would even want to open his heart up to someone else again, but there was something special about you. Something in your soul that called out to his. He still remembers the day you first met, and the way you had smiled at him. He knew right then he was done for.

He didn’t know what you saw in him. Frank could never fully wrap his head around why the hell out of anyone, and oh you could have fucking have anyone, you chose him. Over and over again, day after day, you chose him. He waited for you to change your mind, break out of whatever trance you were under, and leave him. But you never did. He was constantly torn between wanting to show you his worst to see if you would stay, and wanting to prove to you that he was the man you believed he was so that you would stay. 

Frank savored every part of your relationship, taking his time to enjoy every piece of it fully. He never went farther than what he was absolutely sure you were comfortable with. He let you set the pace, always following your lead, worrying that if he got carried away he would fuck everything up. The first time you let him kiss you, he felt dizzy with adoration and his lips tingled for hours afterwards. And the first time you let him make love to you? Frank fucking swore he believed in heaven, because he had found it inside your body. Little by little, your confidence blossomed, and Frank was able to coax more of what you liked out of you to make sure he was always doing everything exactly right. Nothing filled him with more pride than pleasing you.

He didn’t want to push you, or make you uncomfortable, but he was dying to know what you were hiding from him. Everytime he caught you staring at his hands, you would immediately redirect your eyes and blush profusely. Frank thought he had somewhat of an idea of what was going on, so he decided to test out his theory. 

Frank used his hands as much as possible over the course of the next few days. If you were struggling to reach something, he would come up behind you and splay his large hand on your lower back, never once missing the way your lips parted and a flush crept onto your cheeks in response. Frank wasn’t a huge fan of PDA, but he made it a point to hold onto your hand every time you went somewhere together, or place his hand just high enough on your thigh to get a silent reaction out of you everytime you sat next to him or rode with him in his truck. He especially loved doing that when you wore dresses or skirts, brushing his calloused fingers along your soft skin in slow strokes. Frank would catch the way your eyes widened slightly, and a devious smirk would curl at the corner of his mouth. He even went as far as getting into a fight with some drunk asshole in a dive bar, cracking his fist roughly against the guy’s jaw, just to come home to let you assess the damage and fix him up. He didn’t need you to, his knuckles were barely even bruised, but he wanted to see the way you would react to getting to examine his hand up close. The hitch in your breath as he held it out for you and the way your eyes swelled with lust as you delicately grazed your fingertips over his angry knuckles had his cock thrashing against his jeans. He had figured you out, and now he just needed to find a way to get you to ask for what he knew you wanted.

Frank had you on his lap, one hand placed firmly on the middle of your back to hold you in place against him, and the other loosely wrapped around your throat as he gently grabbed your jaw in his fingers. He took his time kissing at that sensitive spot at the base of your neck he knew drove you crazy. He figured if he could get you worked up enough, needy and desperate for more, that you would open up and bloom for him. He just needed to guide you there. Frank could practically feel the thundering rhythm of your heart pounding against his own chest. He swallowed every breathless pant that escaped your lips. An impatient whine echoed off your tongue and he grinned. Frank had you exactly where he wanted you. 

He purposefully kept his hands still in their places, focusing solely on his gentle assault on your neck with his lips and tongue, occasionally nipping at your collarbone. He could tell you were getting restless by the way your hips started to tenuously rock back and forth, your fingers once loosely threaded in his hair now tugging slightly.

“Frank…please…”

“Please what, darlin’? Hm?”

You huffed in response, earning a throaty chuckle from him, and grabbed a small fistfull of the collar of his shirt to tug him closer, even though there was hardly an inch of space between you two.

“Please.”

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“Want you, Frank.”

“Nah, think you can do better than that. C’mon baby, tell me what you want.”

Frank tried not to laugh at the futile way you attempted to tear his lips away from your neck to bring his face closer to yours, your hips now picking up a more purposeful speed. Patience was not your virtue, and he knew it wouldn’t take much more teasing until you broke. He would wait.

“Fraaaaank. Please, I told you. I want you.”

“I think you’re lyin’ to me, baby.”

Frank pulled back just slightly to look into your eyes, taking in the furrow of confusion in your brows and the adorable pout on your lips. He tightened his hold on your throat, your chin firmly grasped between his thumb and index finger. He reveled in the way your eyes grew in bewilderment, and your hips stuttered to a stop.

“I think you want somethin’ in particular, but you’re too shy to ask. Yeah?”

Your lips parted slightly as a shuddering breath slipped past, and Frank took the opportunity to swipe the pad of his thumb deliberately across your bottom lip. Your hand flew up to grab onto his forearm, gripping onto it tightly. He stared at you silently for a second, searching your eyes for any hesitation. You gave his arm a gentle squeeze and he took that as a signal to experimentally push his thumb past your plump lips. You greedily accepted it in your mouth, closing your eyes for a moment as you swirled your tongue around it and sucked softly, even giving the tip a gentle bite. A small grunt sounded in the back of his throat and Frank found himself pathetically rock hard beneath you.

He swiftly retracted his thumb from your mouth with a pop, a twinge of embarrassment sparking in him that if he let you keep doing that, he’d no doubt come on the spot. Both of you stared at each other for a moment in silent astonishment. Frank cocked his head to the side slightly, a mischievous glint in his eye as that familiar cocky smirk appeared on his lips.

“Ain’t feelin’ so shy now, are ya?”

You bit down on your bottom lip hard, unable to tear your eyes away from Frank’s relentless stare. It made you feel even smaller than you already did with him. He clicked his tongue against his cheek, shaking his head slowly as his thumb pulled your bottom lip free from your teeth.

“Uh uh. If you’re feelin’ brave enough to take my thumb in your mouth like you do my cock, then you can be a big girl and use your words, yeah? You gonna tell me what you want now, sweetheart?”

Frank’s shameless words shot straight down to your core and you couldn’t stifle the pitiful whine that sounded from you. You closed your eyes for a moment to regain your composure, far too turned on to even be embarrassed that Frank had caught on to you. You weren’t sure why you even would be embarrassed. Frank always gave you everything you asked for without hesitation. But sex between the two of you so far had been gentle and loving, not that you didn’t adore or enjoy that, but you weren’t sure how to tell him that you wanted more. You weren’t sure what he would think of you if you told him what you really wanted him to do to you.

“Your hands.”

“What about ‘em, baby?”

“I think you kinda already know.”

“I do. Wanna hear you say it though.”

The smug grin on his mouth had you whining in agitation. It was no use putting up a fight. Frank wasn’t going to give up until you gave in, and his willpower was much stronger than yours. Swallowing your pride, you stared directly into his deep brown eyes, a wicked idea forming in your head. If he was going to play this game, so could you.

“I love your hands, Frank. I love how big they are, how long your fingers are. I know they can reach so much deeper than mine can. Your fingers could get me to come so much faster than mine ever could. I love the way it feels when you touch me. I want you to touch me more, Frank. I want you to grab me and not be afraid to leave marks. I want you to squeeze my throat when you fuck me. I want-”

Frank didn’t give you a chance to finish before he was pulling you in by your throat and crashing his lips onto yours. His other hand was already bunching your dress up around your hips, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties until his thumb found your clit. You moaned into his mouth and Frank had to channel all his self-control into not combusting right then and there because you were already so wet. He had never heard you talk like that but fuck did he want to hear more of it. He always felt like you were holding back with him, maybe just as much as he was with you, and he’d be damned if he let this side of you slip back into the shadows again.

One of his long fingers slipped easily into your entrance and he broke apart from your lips just in time to watch the way your face contorted in pleasure as a sigh of content filled the space between you. Frank was mesmerized by you, eyes fixated solely on your face as he began to fuck you slowly with his finger, his thumb grazing over your clit gently. You were practically begging for more already, breathless whimpers and pleas tumbling from your lips, your nails digging into his shoulder blades when he granted your request and pushed another finger past your entrance. Frank glanced down in awe to watch the way you moved your hips against his hand, wanting so badly for it to be his cock instead. He decided right then and there you were going to ride him for the first time tonight. You were so close to the edge already just from his fingers, and Frank’s ego soared at seeing how much of an effect he had on you. 

“This what you wanted baby, hm? Just wanted me to fuck you with my fingers?”

“Yes Frank…God, please…don’t stop.”

“All you had to do was ask darlin’, you know I’d never say no to you. You know how much I love makin’ my pretty girl happy, don’t you?”

You couldn’t focus on anything other than the way Frank was plunging his fingers into you repeatedly, the sounds of your wetness squelching around his fingers quickly filling the living room. The faster you rocked your hips, the more brutal his pace became, and you loved it. You nodded your head quickly at his words, feeling dizzy at the way he said my pretty girl.

“You gonna tell me what you want from now on so I can give it to ya, hm? Give you whatever you want baby, just gotta ask. Or hell, you ain’t even gotta ask. You just take my hand and guide it where ya need it. If that’s what you want, you take it. You want my cock, take it. You take whatever the hell you want. It’s all yours, understand? You take what’s yours, yeah?”

All you could do was moan in response. Between Frank’s dangerously gruff voice and indelicate words, and the way he was curling his fingers and brushing along that spongy spot inside you that had you doubling over in indulgence, you couldn’t form any other word but his name.

“Attagirl. You gonna come for me now, sweetheart? Hm? Gonna soak my hand? Yeah you are, I can feel it. Look at you, already making a mess on my lap and you ain’t even there yet. Go on baby, come on my fingers. Don’t hold back, let me have it all, yeah? Go on, make a mess on me. Let me fuckin’ have it.”

A tsunami of rapture collided so hard into you that it knocked the breath completely out of your chest. You collapsed against Frank, barely able to hold yourself up on his lap as you meagerly tried to ride out the wave of pleasure. Frank’s deft fingers continued to work you over, wringing every single drop of pure bliss from you until he was certain there wasn’t an ounce of satisfaction he had missed. He wrapped his arm tightly around your waist to hold you against him, brushing his lips along the shell of your ear as he encouraged you through your orgasm.

“That’s it, there we go. That’s my girl. That’s my fuckin’ girl. Make me so proud baby, so fuckin’ proud. I got you, sweetheart.”

After a few minutes, you were finally able to get your breathing under control, your vision becoming less and less fuzzy as you fully regained coherency. Frank gazed down at you lovingly, brushing your hair away from your face and tucking a strand of it behind your ear. You blinked a few times as he came into focus, staring into his deep mahogany eyes. You blushed at the look he was giving you, a cheeky grin coupled with a quizzically arched brow.

“So, my girl’s a little kinky, hm? You been holdin’ back on me this whole time?”

You couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles, hiding your face into Frank’s chest to escape his taunting stare. 

“I was nervous!”

“What the hell for? You think I wouldn’t like it or somethin’?”

“I didn’t know. You’re always so…gentle with me. You always take it slow, and touch me like I’m made of glass. Not that I mind that, I don’t at all. I like when you’re sweet to me. I just…I guess I wasn’t sure what you wanted, or what you would think of me if I told you what else I liked.”

Frank gently grabbed at your throat, holding your face in his fingers so that you couldn’t look away. There was a timid smile on his lips and an uncertain vulnerability floating around in his eyes.

“Baby, I take it slow because I don’t wanna push you. I never wanna do anythin’ that makes you uncomfortable. I’ve been lettin’ you call the shots this whole time, decidin’ what we do and when we do it, followin’ your lead, ya know? Look I…I just don’t wanna fuck this up. That’s all.”

“What if I don’t wanna call the shots? What if I want you to?”

Frank sucked in a deep breath at your words, unable to ignore the way they made his cock twitch in his jeans. 

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

“It is.”

“But-”

“Frank, I trust you, and I can take a lot more than you give me credit for. If I feel like I can’t handle something or don’t like it, I’ll tell you, and I trust that you’ll respect that. I promise I won’t hold back anymore if you don’t.”

“Alright, sweetheart. You got yourself a deal.”

[drugsorgasmsandcheese]

shut me up | f. castle

frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you get on frank’s nerves too much, and he’s finally found a way to shut you up.

warnings: reader has nipple piercings LOL that’s the only description, fem!reader, reader curses (she’s so me), reader annoys frank, age gap(?), touching, frank loves reader’s thighs bc i said so, making out, suggestive themes x

“oh my god, it’s raggedy-anne.” you say as you open the door. frank castle is stood behind it, beaten and bloody from whatever activity he got himself into earlier that night. frank ignores your comment and walks straight past you, and your eyes dart to him. “did raggedy-anne get shot in the ass or something?” you ask as you notice the way he limps to the couch.

“has anyone ever told you you talk too much?” frank groans, slowly sitting on the couch, unzipping his black hoodie to reveal his bare chest.

“all the time.” you quirk, pulling the first aid kit out of one of your cupboards. you never owned a first aid kit until you stumbled across frank castle. and i mean literally stumbled. you bumped into him late at night, too drunk to see the danger that lurks around him despite the bruises and cuts across his skin. you offered to help clean him up, only to realise you didn’t have a first aid kit and had to borrow one from your roommate at the time. even in a drunken state, you still did a damn good job at fixing him up.

it’s been like this ever since.

“and you don’t listen?”

“why would i listen to other people?” you smirk, taking your place next to frank on the couch as you start to unpack the necessities you’d need to clean him up. you can feel his watchful gaze on you the entire time, and when you look up at him, his eyebrows a furrowed and are looking directly at your tits: specifically, your nipples.

“what? i wasn’t expecting you to get in a fucking fight tonight. excuse me for wanting to dress comfy in my own fucking home.” your words are followed by a huff.

“when’d you get them done?” you found yourself looking down to where his gaze is cast. the white tank top you’re wearing reveals your nipples, but not only that, the stainless steel bar that passes through them.

you chuckle. “awhile ago, when i turned 18. best decision i ever made, my sex life has never been better.” you wink, causing frank to roll his eyes. “don’t be jealous, frankie, they’re always here for you.”

“you’re a pain in the ass.”

“no, that bullet wound you took up your ass is a pain. not me, never me.”

“i didn’t get shot in the ass.”

“whatever you say.” you grab the rubbing alcohol and place it on the wounds on his stomach using a few cotton pads. under your hand, you feel frank take a deep breath in and you watch him do so. “how’d this even happen, anyway?” you don’t receive an answer, causing you to huff. “fine, stay silent.”

and he does.

whilst you stitch him up, frank can sense the agitation gravitating off of you at the silence in the room. he’s always been a man of few words, but since he’s known you, you’ve always been the type of woman who had something to say no matter the situation. a snarky reply, an intelligent comment, it didn’t matter, because you truly didn’t know how and when to shut up.

“frank.” you say, and you’re met with no reply.

“frankie.” no reply.

“if you don’t reply i’ll sing careless whisper.” that causes frank to raise his eyebrows at you. he’s tempting you, his look saying do it, see what happens.

and so you gave in, because how would one not give into temptation when the devil himself is sat before you?

“tonight the music seems so loud, i wish that we could lose this crowd. maybe it’s better this way, we’d hurt each other with the things we want to sa-”

your singing is interrupted by something, but it takes you awhile to register what until you feel his tongue slip past your lips and a moan leaving your mouth for you to realise that frank castle is kissing you. you feel his hands reach up to cup your face, and you find yourself shuffling closer to be engulfed in the warmth and the feel that is him.

a hand reached out to grasp your left thigh, tugging it over his own until you’re completely situated on frank’s lap. the damage to his skin is long forgotten. his hand remains on your thigh, but it grabs and slides up and down in a way that has you completely at his mercy. his other hand soon joins on your other thigh, they’re in sync with the way they touch you: grabbing, squeezing, stroking them in a way that makes you feel appreciated.

your hands soon cup frank’s face, his jawline sharp and with your hands on his cheeks you find yourself digging deeper into the kiss, digging deeper into frank castle; his heart, his mind, his soul.

you’re not paying attention to the movement of his hands, too invested in the heavy make out session to even realise that his left hand had moved to cup your breast, pulling at your pierced nipple in a way that evokes a hot and breathy moan from you. you’re growing greedy, you want him to do it again and it’s like he’s a mind reader because he does, and you feel him smirk against your lips at another moan that escapes you.

you’ve pulled away from the kiss now, but your hands are still on frank’s cheeks and he’s still playing with your nipple. you’re both breathing heavily, lips just an inch apart as you stare into each other. he’s smirking at you, and you giggle.

“guess you found a way to shut me up.” you laugh breathlessly. “but i think i know a few other ways.” it’s the wink that you give him that frank knows he’s in for a long night. but who is he to complain?

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@theeblackmedusa

[inoreuct]

ZOSAN POLICEMAN/CYBORG SIDEKICK AU

inspired by me talking to reg after work and thinking about sanji fighting after a full shift at the baratie and then saying he must have heels of steel. lesgo.

zoro’s a police officer because of course he is. his lifestyle’s insanely militaristic and according to luffy, insanely mundane; he goes to bed at eight every night and has been wearing the same three white t-shirts for the past ten years. don’t even start about his socks— most of them are more hole than fabric. he has more emotional attachment to those things that a ballerina to her toe pads.

he has a pretty high position in the police force and his underlings are constantly trying to get him out to dinner or the bar, and he always says NO. he has to hit the gym. or go for a run. or go to kendo practice. that 1st dan rank of his doesn’t maintain itself.

anyway something big goes down that has the whole department up in a frenzy and zoro’s put in charge of it; he’s fully ready to take on the case and the investigations. chasing down crooks and pulling corrupt happenings into the light is his specialty. he gets the job done because he never changes his methods and he works just fine alone.

enter stage right: blackleg sanji.

blond. brilliant. beautiful. he’s a disarming smile and luscious golden hair wrapped up in a pretty silvery bow before you realise he could actually. like. strangle you with the ribbon. he could literally break more than half the bones in your body without breaking a sweat and then meet his friends for dinner after.

he got his namesake from the parts of him that aren’t quite human; everything below mid-thigh is reinforced carbon-fibre, sleek and dark gray. his veins are wires, his muscles pistons— there are knives hidden in his heels and there’s a gun in his right kneecap with a flamethrower in the other. he’s proficient in muay thai, savate, and kickboxing. he’s a badass. end of story.

judge, his biological father, is a high-ranking government official/scientist in charge of a military project called GERMA66. he mechanically engineered his children into the perfect supersoldiers by quite literally brainwashing and rebuilding them. think bucky barnes in the winter soldier, but more fucked up because these are his KIDS.

in any case. sora makes fucking sure that she plays a big enough part in sanji’s upbringing that he fights the mental conditioning and manages to get away before judge does everything he had planned. zeff takes him in, raises this snot-nosed little kid in the back of his restaurant for eleven years, and every part of sanji that counts takes after zeff and his mother.

(zeff’s also friends with garp, who happens to be luffy’s grandfather, and luffy happens to be zoro’s best friend and routine patrol buddy. small world.)

judge managed to make it so the mechanical enhancements would grow with the kids, so sanji doesn’t really need any adjustments. that doesn’t mean he didn’t get a little squeaky here and there, though, and zeff’s touch-ups with engine oil in the middle of the night can really only help so much.

and then he meets usopp, and then franky. they’re mechanics (technically) and mad geniuses (definitely) and they fix him right up. usopp’s the one who makes sure all his fuel and stuff is chemically optimal, and franky reinforces his hip with titanium to help his body withstand the sheer torque of his kicks. the grandma jokes are ENDLESS.

in any case, judge finds him. yeah. and sanji gets assigned to (read: forced to help) zoro and the mutual dislike/disdain/animosity is IMMEDIATE.

zoro thinks sanji’s a contrary asshole who starts fights for the sake of fighting. sanji thinks zoro’s just another law enforcer prick in cahoots with judge. they go on their first stakeout and almost get busted because they can’t stop biting and snipping at each other, but zoro gets grazed by a bullet in a shootout and that night they both sit a little quieter than they’re used to.

their bond forms slowly. they resist it at first but it’s just so easy to fall into step with one another, taking turns with offence and defence, trusting the other to fill whatever gaps in their attacks one of them alone can’t handle. they don’t bicker to intentionally hurt anymore— it’s more quips and harmless snark than anything. sanji cooks for the both of them and makes sure they don’t get malnourished while they’re off chasing baddies, and zoro helps him realign all the finicky little parts in his legs that aren’t big enough of a problem to warrant paying franky a visit. they’re good together, and it’s comfortable. they’re comfortable.

and then they realise that there’s something much bigger going on.

zoro’s feeling more and more uneasy as they unspool the thread of lies and motives because it’s starting to feel like the people they catch and bring in are being… targeted. like someone wants them out of the way.

he brings it up to sanji and the blond freezes. brushes it off like he hadn’t since the beginning and goes right on to talking about the next suspect on their list. a tiny voice at the back of zoro’s head tells him that something’s not right, but he brushes it aside for the time being and focuses on planning with sanji.

the feeling gets worse.

it all blows up one night when they’re having dinner in sanji’s apartment, and zoro’s staring at the plate of spinach pesto linguine in front of him with his fist clenched around his fork.

“what?” sanji laughs, scrubbing at the frying pan in the sink. “looking a bit too much like your hair?”

zoro swallows. “what’s going on?”

the air thickens, and zoro’s breath is shallow as sanji turns around. “what do you mean?”

“you know what i mean.” the blond’s been bitter lately, too much like how he’d been when they'd first met. it brings out something fiercely protective in zoro, underneath that initial glaze of anger, because he knows sanji well enough at this point to know when the other man’s being avoidant and not just secretive. sanji’s afraid of something and he’s running from it. there’s resentment in the way his spine curls, and it’s sour on zoro’s tongue because he knows it’s most likely directed at sanji himself.

sanji’s throat bobs as he turns away again, turning the tap on, but zoro doesn’t let up. “they’re innocent,” he continues, voice low. “they’re innocent and you know it. these people are being framed—”

“we don’t know that,” sanji interrupts.

“—we know,” zoro says fiercely. “you know it, curls, so what are you getting up to?”

the other man stays turned away, washing and drying calmly. the gears in his legs whirr as he shifts his weight.

“sanji.” zoro stands up and rounds the island, fingertips dragging over the countertop. “you know these people aren’t doing anything wrong and you’re still taking them in. tell me what’s going on.”

sanji takes a measured breath and tilts his head, before pushing out a short, “can’t.”

zoro can feel himself getting angry. it’s heat at the base of his skull, the back of his neck, the itch to grab his partner (they’re partners, now. what a thought.) by the shoulders and shake until he comes to his senses. sanji is kind. if zoro is sure of anything at all he’s sure of that. sanji is kind and he will fight to the fucking death to make sure justice is served with fairness, and this is how zoro knows that something is wrong.

WE NEED A PART 2 I HIT THE CHARACTER LIMIT

(part 2)

[mugeesworld]

Zoro with a chubby partner head cannons!

Female y/n / NSFW (you've been warned)

If you like these then go check out my others for characters like luffy, Franky, and Ukai! ♥︎

Zoro 100% most definitely likes thicker women. And being chubby? Even better⁉️

He would love a chubby girl friend. Especially if you are shorter. He would literally die. Now. Their wasn't any chubby women in one piece that wasn't stereotyped. The creator always did them so dirty. And even in the one piece world their isn't a lot of chubby women.

Other then older gals. So when zoro layed his eyes on you..... Ooooo you best believe he was flabbergasted. He would stare for so long until you or someone else caught him. He wouldn't be able to take his eyes off you.

Watching you walk around so elegantly. How your body would react to every step you took. It's mesmerizing to him. He could watch you all day. He probably be to scared to come up to you directly so he would "accidentally" bump into you saying. "Watch it!"

And when you go to apologize for not looking where you were going his heart would stutter. Seeing your fully eyes and soft, chubby face look up at him frightened by the sudden contact. "Ah sorry about that!" you say. He would get distracted looking at your face and almost forget to respond. "Whatever. Just watch where you're going next time." he grumbles even though he wasn't frustrated at all.

He goes on with his day. You not being able to leave his mind. So when the crew asked if he wanted to go drinking later that night he immediately said yes trying not to get to excited. Not only wanting to go to get a drink but to see you since he seen you entering a bar before he left.

When he gets to the bar he is excited to see you're the bar tender. Serving all the customers behind the counter in your cute little apron. He walks over to the bar and tales a seat waiting for you to pass by him to ask if he would like a drink.

"Hi their! What can i get for ya- oh. Hey you're the guy I bumped into earlier. Sorry about that again! I was in a rush since I was late." you say scratching your neck. Now he isn't big on flirting. Matter of fact he never flirts but with you? He couldn't help it. He couldn't keep himself together.

"How about a free drink then huh? Since you're so sorry..." he says chuckling a bit. You smile and cross your arms putting them on the counter."Sorry bubby but I can't do that! Don't want to get in trouble!" you say.

He hums in response. Thinking about what to say. "That's to bad. Maybe you can repay me in some other way then?" he whispers. You tilt your head at his words. What does he mean?

"We could work something out possibly. I'm off at 10 we can discuss it then." you respond going along with it. He chuckles and stand up."See you at 10 sweetheart" he says walking off to find his crew.

When the time came you locked up the doors and was about to head home for getting yells agree ment. Since you thought he was just teasing. As you start to walking off you hear someone call for you. "Where are you off to? Thought we had a deal?" he hums walking towards you.

"Oh you actually stayed?" you ask a little shocked that he stayed. "Of course I stayed. I'm a man of my word" he responds getting closer. You think for a moment."Well we could go for a walk! Their isn't anywhere that's open at this time so I can't necessarily treat you to something. I know a spot we could sit at!" you say not sure on what he would like to do.

Zoro gives you a confused look realizing you didn't know what he actually ment. He thought y'all we're on the same page. He feels his heart beat faster hearing you say that. You genuinely wanted to spend time with him and get to know him. He was shocked

"Oh yeah.... Sure." he says. You smile and grab his hand to head towards your favorite spot on the island. "Let's go!" you yell dragging him along. He blushes feeling you grab him and start pulling him. "W-woah! Slow down damn it!" he says trying not to trip as you pull him.

You both make it to your favorite spot. Its a bench in a park that's close to a clif. You can see the stars perfectly. Y'all sit down and start to get to know each other. To his surprise you don't care he's a pirate and say you're used to it since you're a bar tender. After talking for a bit y'all sit in silence.

Not a awkward silence. And calming one. Just enjoy each other's presence. "Hey zoro.. Why did you agree to come out here with me?" you ask finally. Zoro turns his head away trying to think of a response. "Idk.... I just wanted to get to know you.." he admits even though that's not fully true.

You smile. "Oh I see. It's nice to get to know you zoro. I'm glad I bumped into you." you say yawning. You lay back onto the bench and feel your eyes get heavy. "I'm gonna rest my eyes for a minute." you whisper before drifting off to sleep.

Your body starts to fall since a bench isn't the best place to sleep. Zoro panics and quickly grabs you pulling you to his chest. After realizing what he did he starts to panic more. "Tck stupid" he says softly to you not wanting to wake you. He gets comfortable and eventually falls asleep with you in his arms.

After that night you and him started to get closer. He introduced you to the crew and luffy asked you to join to be a bar tender. (He asks you after seeing how You deal with some bitch ass pirates that came in trying to cause a scene) You happily agreed. And from then on out. You and zoro got closer. Taking naps together. Drinking together.

He finally broke the awkward "friendship" y'all had going on one night when y'all we're drunk. He kisses you softly with flushed cheeks from the alcohol. "You're so damn pretty y/n. Fuck." he admits. The next morning when he remembers what he did he tries to avoid you until you finally close in on him and kiss him saying you liked him also.

And from then on out y'all weren't just friends. Y'all we're dating. It took him a while to get used to the affection you would give him. His love language being quality time time ment he loved when you would watch him work out or take naps with him through out the day.

He favorite way to nap is with his head on your lap. He would never admit it though. He only does it in private very rarely on the deck. He doesn't want people to think he's soft. When ever you would kiss him or hug him on the deck in front of the crew he would immediately get embarrassed and start panicking. You loved teasing him. He would never admit that he likes it though.

Your always by his side. Just how he likes it. He wants to protect you and keep you safe. Even if his love language isn't physical touch he enjoys laying a hand on your knee when sitting beside each other. He likes the way your legs look when you cross them and can't help but want to squeeze them. Just feeling the warmth from your soft body helps him relax.

Or if y'all are sitting beside each other with a table covering yalls lap he might even hold you hand. He loves your hands. That might even be his favorite part about you. How they are always warm. He loves when you grasp his face with your soft hands so he can rest his head. Or if y'all are sitting down leaning on each other. He would Lean in and lay on your chest.

He just likes to nap with you fr.

He loves having you on top of him when cuddling. Having a arm around you holding you close as you lay on his chest. It makes him happy to know your secure. He likes to just watch you sleep sometimes. (Creeper)

When he is in the mood he likes to come up behind you grabbing your love handles and slowly start rubbing them. Snaking his hands under your shirt to get a better feel. He loves the way you feel.

When it comes to sex he's rough. Like he going ham. But sometimes when he turned or his muscles are hurting. He likes having you on top. Grinding on him and going up and down. Resting his hands on your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. He can't get enough of it.

Or having your legs on both sides of him and lay on his chest wrapped your arms around him. If you go to slow he will slam up into you.

But when he's not sore? Ooooooooo you best be ready. He goes hard. Like no time to get used to it and go slow to fast. He wants to feel you. He likes missionary. Seeing your face and having your legs wrapped around him.

Or holding you in his arms as he slams himself up into you against a wall. He definitely a grunter to. He's not that loud in bed but every time he thrust inside you he can't help but let out a grunt. He tries to hide his moans.

He enjoys eating you out too. Having your hands and chest pressed against the wall as he grabs your ass and eats you from the back. His favorite way. He likes to see you arch. And don't get me started on blow Jobs.

He is rough with then too. If you have a gag reflex you won't in another week. He's the type to grab your head and just fuck your mouth. He don't care. He putting that pretty mouth of yours to work.

He might not be the type to moan but he talks dirty. If you would like it he would definitely call you a slut and low-key slut shame you knowing you enjoy it.

When you look a little to sexy he can't help but come up behind you and grind on you. Before taking your arms and pinning you against a wall pressing your chest and hands against it. Watching you bend over some arching your back still pressed against the wall.

He would grab you by your thighs and just ram into you till your legs are shaking.

Favorite part to grab is in photos. (I tried to use two different body types. But this goes for every single FUCKIN BODY TYPE OK. So if these aren't yours then that's ok♥︎ I just wanted a example for y'all. One of them is a hour glass figure and looks like a model. Not everyone is a hour glass. Ik im not lol. And that's ok.)

It's sorta like the place where your hip dips and thighs meet. So ig it's not just one spot. He would like both of those ⁉️

Almost like your v line. When he grabs your waist/ side from the front he puts his 4 fingers on the side and then his thumb like inbetween where in connects cause he thinks it's hot. And if it's from the back he does the same except his thumb is on your side and his fingers are there. I really hope y'all understand this. Do I sound crazy? I just think this part of the body is so cute bro.

Now go look at the photo of the girl in the bikini and then come back..... I'll wait.

Do you get what I mean. Isn't that so cute bro. The word crevice is sorta gross sounding but that's sorta what it is.

[blacklegsanjiii]

hi! i love reading about all of the au's you've done but I've really been enjoying the young!sanji and I was wondering if you could give us some head canons or just more stuff about him! your work is amazing and I hope you have a wonderful day or night!!

Young!Sanji is fun when you dive into the nitty gritty of it, by fun I mean uh...now everyone is realizing why Sanji acts childish sometimes.

Sanji, as we all know, doesn't have the best emotional regulation. The crew noticing Sanji swallowing every bit of emotion that isn't "productive" (happy, excited, fawning, protective) because he doesn't know how to. Zeff didn't really try to teach him because he treated him like the age he looked and not the age he was. And Judge wanted his kids to be emotionless monsters.

Sanji is seventeen, never played a day in his life, does most of the chores, does all the cooking, does watches and his crew after finding out how old he is have to form a plan to uh...not have him do all that. Robin is motherly so she takes the initiative as they're leaving to help Sanji more actively even if Sanji protests and refuses. Robin is helping him with dishes and he keeps insisting she go relax and she asks him when the last time somebody read to him was. He shrugs off the question with a 'he's too old for that' and a big smile. Robin argues she reads to Luffy who is older than him and Sanji just hunches his shoulders and when they finish up Robin takes him to the library and reads to him.

Zoro also starts telling him the kitchen is closed to him some days. Sanji huffs and Zoro tells him if everyone else gets days off so should he and he should go draw with Nami. Because Jinbei and Franky are handling the cooking. Sanji is then hauled to Nami, who is already up and has a seat set up next to her at the drawing table. Luffy's markers out as well as her drawing pens and she smiles at him and says to join her. He agrees, reluctant but thankful she's thinking of him. They draw for a while until Nami notices he's drawing the dishes he makes and while well done, not the goal.

"Why don't you try drawing something not related to cooking?" She asks. Sanji blinks at her as Nami shows him drawings of the crew she's done in a sketch book, of places they've been.

"I'm not as talented as you, Nami-Swan! I'd rather draw what I know." Sanji flatters as she frowns.

"That's not the point, Sanji. Don't flatter me just to put yourself down. We all got to act like kids before, except you. You should be able to act your age." Nami says.

"I.. don't know how. I've always been treated the age I look. After what happened with my family before Zeff, truthfully I don't want to know." Sanji responds.

"You're seventeen. Luffy became our captain at that age, he's nineteen now and look at him." Nami points out with a broad gesture. "We all got to be kids, what's so different about you? Why can't you be a kid even if it's a little late?"

"I literally don't know how. It's uncomfortable, I hate it. I'd rather go back to everyone thinking I'm twenty one again." Sanji mutters. Nami sighs heavily and looks at the boy beside her, drawing a bowl of pasta.

"Can you draw the All Blue for me?" She asks, Sanji gives her a look of confusion but does look as requested. The next day when he goes into the galley he sees it stuck on the fridge with magnets next to Luffy and Chopper's drawings and smiles to himself.

[foxydivaxx]

Zoro X Sanji: Prince Charming

Remember those posts I have been posting on here regarding Sanji and what type of men he likes? Might as well turn this into a fanfic. A one shot perhaps. This applies more to OPLA! Sanji. Warning: Sanji is gonna be extremely uncensored and vulgar here.

Zoro stands by the deck, carefully observing the rest of the crew. Or rather observing a certain cook. Till this day, he finds him to be quite an enigma.

Not much is known about Sanji other than the little that the man reveals about himself. The guy is a mystery. No matter how hard Zoro thinks he is closer to the truth, the cook keeps surprising him and taking him off guard.

Sure, he is still an annoying flirt around women. Well, seeing him get close to the ladies pisses him off. But the guy is a great cook and is also good-looking. Does not help that he has a nice round ass. That alone begs the question; is he a virgin? Surely someone with a beautiful ass like that must have gotten fucked a few times. He feels he may be an innocent virgin and just flirts around, begging for someone to take his virginity.

Aside from that sinful ass, there are those legs. Gorgeous yet deadly when you rub him the wrong way. He still finds himself getting curious about the guy. Who exactly is the cook? What secrets is he hiding?

“Interested in Sanji huh?” He nearly jumps up as Law joins him at the deck. “I gotta say, Luffy made a great choice with this guy.” Law says with a smile as he watches Sanji laugh at something Usopp said.

Zoro just rolls his eyes. “Why him when the safety of the crew comes first?” Before he could say anything further, he swore that he saw from the corner of his eyes the cook staring at him with a mischievous glint in his eye, giving him a playful wink. Oh no….

Law sees this and snickers. “Dude I think he likes you.” he says. Zoro snorts. “Yeah right.” Maybe he does because now that he thinks about it, Sanji often riles him up just to get his attention and does that in a flirtatious way. Maybe, just maybe the cook likes him.

Later that evening, the crew plus Law gather round for dinner. “You know Sanji, I have always been curious.” says Usopp. All eyes fall on Sanji who raises an eyebrow.

“About what Usopp?”

“Now, if you were to date a guy, what sort of guy attracts you?” Zoro literally choked when he heard that. Sanji blushes slightly and giggles. Everyone pays attention to Sanji now because now that they think about it, does Sanji even like men?

“I like the bad boys because they can be mysterious but they can be so sexy and fun. He needs to have a soft and warm kind heart and I love it when they have muscles. All the things I could do to him. Watching a man work out turns me on. Oh and if he has a massive dick, extra fun. Just saying all that makes me horny.”

Jaws dropped at that revelation. Who would have thought that Sanji could be perverted? Let alone spill the tea on his secret sexual fantasies like that? Nami and Robin giggle at this whilst Franky and Brook exchange looks.

"Did you hear that?" Law whispers to Zoro. "Why the fuck did he just fucking describe me?" Zoro replies in a hushed tone."But you always hang around women more and flirt with women more," says Usopp.

That is true. "True. But here is a little secret; women reject me but men show more interest in me." Sanji replies. Now that was a huge bombshell no one expected.

"No way!!" Usopp exclaims. Nami and Robin gasped.

"Whoa!!" says Zoro.

"He speaks the truth because I have been noticing how some men tend to look at him," says Law. "No wonder you told me that stuff earlier on," says Zoro as he sips some sake.

"I know it is weird but I speak the truth. Women find me…a little annoying and forward. Men seem to appreciate me more. And yet I cannot bring myself to fully commit to a man." says Sanji

"Why?" Now Zoro was interested. Why does Sanji want to commit to a relationship with a man yet chases after women who do not give a shit about him, save for a few exceptions?

A sad smile appears on Sanji's face. "Past experiences that I would rather not elaborate on for now." Zoro raises an eyebrow. Could it be that Sanji got abused by men in the past?

"Then why do you want a man now?" Usopp asked. "Because I believe in fairytales. Call me a hopeless romantic. Not that I want to hook up right away but I am just thinking of what a great romantic relationship with a man would look and feel like," says Sanji.

One cannot help but kind of feel bad for Sanji. At least they can now understand his behaviour. "Wait…so are you saying that the whole gentleman thing was an act?!" says Brook.

Sanji shakes his head as he sips some wine. "Wrong. Being a gentleman is still a part of my DNA. I will always be that unapologetic flirt and pervert. The difference is that I have multiple layers to me, parts that I ignored right up till this point."

"Multiple layers huh?"

Sanji glares at Zoro and smirks at him. "Classified information Marimo."

"Have you ever slept with a man before?" Franky asked.

A devilish smirk brightens up the cook's face, a facial expression that will continue to haunt Zoro all the days of his life. "Hell yes. Loads of times. Hell I have been gang banged before at the Baratie."

Zoro and Law’s eyes widen in shock at that revelation. So the cook is THAT wild?! "No way!!" Franky exclaims and chuckles. Robin laughs because she always suspected that Sanji was that naughty. Chopper, Luffy, Brook's jaws drop at that revelation. Usopp falls over laughing because he knew. Nami gasps because he did not realize how nasty Sanji actually was.

Sanji meanwhile lights a cigarette and acts as though he did not just say what he said."Do not be fooled by my looks. I can be naughty when I feel like it. I can literally go hardcore if I want to."

"Really? And how many guys banged you that day?" All eyes fall on Zoro at that question. So he was curious. Sani's smirk broadened. "About 10 of them."

Jaws drop at that one. "So you are that wild?!" says Zoro. Sanji grins mischievously, slowly gets up from his seat and makes his way towards the swordsman and leans down to his ear so that only Zoro could hear. "You wanna find out tonight?"

The entire crew snicker because they all knew just how much both men seriously wanted each other. Law nudges Zoro. "Go get him." he says to Zoro who sighs and then gets up and then hoists Sanji onto his shoulder. "Oh you are in a big trouble cook." Sanji giggles as Zoro drags him off to his room. Talk about an explosive beginning to a brand new chapter.

[wannab-urs]

The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 20

Hi friends!!

Can't believe we're at the 20th week of me doing this rec list! I also hit 400 fics on the Spreadsheet, which is wild. We've got 14 fics this week. It was a bit of an angst fest, but there's plenty of smut and even a few threesomes!

As always you can find the Spreadsheet here and the other Digests here. You can tag me in literally any Pedro boy fic (except RPF) and I'll add it to my TBR! You can also send me fic recs if you want, and even ask me for fic recs. I'll dig through the sheet so you don't have to :)

Fic recs below the Pedge:

Blackmail - a Javi P/Joel series by @milla-frenchy

Javi is the new Fedra officer you have to deal with and he wants something instead of credits to let you and joel go on your supply run... he wants to fuck you! The way it starts with Joel getting cucked and then just.... descends into beautiful smutty depravity. This was so fucking good. I loved how Javi wasn't mean? Idk like the whole experience just sounded good as hell for reader after the initial discomfort of having to fuck someone to get what you want lol.

You need to relax, sweetheart - a Joel/Tess one shot by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

You're Tess and Joel's babysitter and they come home from date night and decide to help you unwind from a stressful night of caring for children... ya know... with their bodies. -- TW dubcon/noncon -- also there's some breeding kink in here and Tess is also pregnant. This fic is so good and twisted and delicious and wonderful byeeeee

Shore Leave a Frankie/Santi one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings

Ok so you're a bartender and Frankie and Santi come into your bar sometimes on shore leave and they always flirt with you. And then this time they flirt with you and you like actively consider going home with them... and then you um find something out... spoilers sorry.... and decide to go home with both of them. And it is wonderful, sexy, and sweet. I'm gonna need a 30 part loose fit series on these 3 immediately <3

Rendezvous in Reno - a Dieter one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings

AHHH okay so erotica writer!reader has a book signing and the subject of her first published erotic short story walks in knowing full well the story was basically fanfic of HIM. Heavy flirting ensues... then he comes to your hotel. This fic??? It's so sweet and fluffy and like... indulgent? It's like eating dessert for breakfast. There's a lovely surprise in relation to Dieter himself, also. I just love his personality in this and I love the sexy intimate smut and I want to die I love Dieter so much.

An Open Invitation - a Joel one shot by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Joel watches reader and her girlfriend? fuck buddy? whatever. fuck from his window cause girl has got her curtains WIDE open and she is doing it fully on purpose.... anyway some stuff happens and Joel ends up in her house with her and her friend and then he gets used like a sex toy and loves every second of it and I loved every second of this fic. It's perfect. No fucking notes. 10/10.

Aches!Joel - a Joel series by @toxicanonymity

At the time of this rec, there's four parts. This features virgin!reader and a Joel that shows more restraint than I really expected him to be able to. This fic is sweet and the teasing and the will-they-won't-they throughout is so good. It's like edging but you're reading. And then... ya know. Aches!Joel owns my whole heart. fuckin wanting to wait for a soft bed to fuck her PLEASE... whatta man (the bar is in hell, I know, leave me alone).

Linger On - a Joel series by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

So you and Joel broke up 10 years ago and you moved on! You moved away from Austin and you got married and you have a kid and everything is great right? It's not. You're soooo not over Joel Miller. And then!!! Some events happen that put you face to face again and not just like.. briefly or temporarily. I don't want to spoil too much of this fic here in the review... just read it. It's angsty and yummy and I love it. (smutty also, who do you think I am?)

Carnal - a Joel series by @pascalsbby

Another camgirl!reader fic because I literally cannot help myself lmao. This one has the delicious twist of also being dad's best friend!joel AND best friend's dad!Joel... how fucked up is that? The correct amount of fucked up. The dirty talk going on in this fic is literally insane. My body went into fight or flight I was so turned on. And then on top of the crazy freaky yummy sex and like perv!joel and dom!joel and just all that going on... the story itself is really fucking good!!!

A Feeling That Never Came - a Javi P series by @theywhowriteandknowthings

You show up to your birthday/engagement party (i will not elaborate on that) and it's all kind of terrible and then your ex, Javi Peña shows up. Which should be a bad thing. Who wants their ex at their engagement party? You do. I promise you do. Desperately. So like... read this lovely bucket of angst as a bedtime story, cry yourself to sleep, and anxiously await the next part just like me.

It's always been you - a Dieter one shot by @alwaysmicado

Dieter Bravo is not a good boyfriend and after a year you are faced with the brutal reality of that fact. This fic destroyed me emotionally for real. Like the way Dieter is so.... pathetic? The perfect depiction of that push and pull where you can't let yourself fall into him but like all you want is for him to hold you because you're upset? GOD DAMN. Perfect. And then the interlude time period and what happens there and the ending? All so fucking perfect. I would love more of these two. They're broken and sad and it hurt and I can't stop thinking about this fucking fic AH

Light Only Shows You Where the Shadow Are - a Max Phillips one shot by @oonajaeadira

You've got this friend that can't take a fucking hint and won't understand you don't want him like that, but thankfully a handsome and unsettling stranger is there to save the day... several times.... and it's a little weird that he's always there and that you can't quite remember what he looks like when he's gone... and he makes you feel a little off. This is such a wonderfully spooky fic and it really captures Max's vibes while, despite the stalker behavior, somehow being more tolerable than the canon Max. I desperately hope you get the inspo to write a full Max series. It would be delightful

I Know Places - a Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

So you're a bounty and Din catches you and he has to take you all the way from tatooine to coruscant. It's a long trip and due to some mitigating circumstances he can't carbon freeze you as you'll probably die and... dead people don't pay their debts so that just won't do. 3 weeks cooped up in the Crest with a tin can man you don't know and who is carting you off to certain death... surely that couldn't be a love story. Or could it? This fic is so fucking good. I love the story and the smut???????? To die for.

You Shook Me All Night Long - a Joel series by @macfrog

You are Joel Miller's assistant and he's the CEO and he is... handsy. But it's not making you uncomfortable, at all. This starts at the official work party, moves over to a bar, and then keeps going after that. I really loved this. Joel was the perfect amount of rich corporate asshole and possessive sexy man.

Plaited and Braided - an Ezra one shot by @bonezone44

Ez wins a bullwhip and learns to use it on a tree... then he learns to use it on you. This is so delightful. It's a little dark there for a bit, but it's much much sweeter than you'd expect a sadist!Ezra bullwhip fic to be. I would very much love to see more of these two.

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

Here's some art I saw this week

Joel and Ellie by @vickisigh

Din by @gaytedlasso

Frankie and his shifter form by @littledozerdraws (commissioned for SNAFU by @theywhowriteandknowthings)

Pedro by @bonezone44

Pedro as popular raccoon memes by @iamasaddie

Joel Miller Apologist badge by @sin-djarin

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

My Masterlist

My Kofi

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Happy Reading!

[hyperfixatingmenever]

Today's Nightmare & Tomorrow's Daydreams | Part 2/2 | 8.5 K | Mature

Title: Today's Nightmare & Tomorrow's Daydreams 

Fandom: Triple Frontier  

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/ Reader

Rating: Mature 

Word Count: 8.5K

Cross-posted on Ao3 here

A/N: I wrote part 1 (which I'd recommend reading first) for @theassbuttchronicles back in 2021, but I also wrote a dream that didn't make the final cut, which broke my heart because it was actually the first thing I wrote for the fic. BUT three years later, I've finally finished the fic! I hope everyone can enjoy it, but more importantly, experience the emotional turmoil of the dream with me! lol

"Son of a bitch!"

A sharp, stinging feeling shot through Frankie's hand; he had sliced it open while working on one of the helos he flew for instructing. The cut on Frankie's hand didn't feel like an emergency, but considering he knew you were working, and he cut it on metal, he thought, two birds, one stone. While holding pressure on his hand, he glanced around, looking for some type of fabric to help with the bleeding. The only thing within reach was his dirty, greasy hand rag. He rolled his eyes, knowing the lecture that was in store for him when you saw him. Accepting his fate, he wrapped his hand and headed over to the base clinic.

As he walked into the ER, he saw you busy working, bouncing between helping patients and other staff. He saw you smile and laugh with a fellow army medic. Your smile could light up his darkest days, and it had before. Without knowing, Frankie started to smile, feeling your warmth from across the room.

Out of his daze, he walked up to the registration desk. The sitting area was nearly empty, with only a couple of people since it was already late in the afternoon.

"Hi, Francisco Morales, 75-585-468."

"Frankie! What are you doing here?"

Picking up his head, he looks into your piercing eyes as you walk towards him. He lifted his hands clasped together, showing his poorly wrapped hand.

"Oh Jesus"

Leaning forward, you tell the nurse at the registration desk to not worry about it, ‘I'll take care of him.’

Blush starts to rise a little in his cheeks, but he looks down and hides his face under his favourite 'standard heating oil' cap.

"Come on, Frankie, follow me," motioning to follow you down the hallway to a more private room.

"Okay, let me take a look at it."

Taking a deep breath, Frankie releases the pressure and shows you his hand.

"Jesus, Frankie, is this a dirty rag?"

"I couldn't find anything else!"

He waited for you to give him shit, but he saw you take a deep breath and say, "I'm just happy you're okay. I worry about you."

As you cleaned out the wound, you also ordered a tetanus shot and eventually gave him a couple of butterfly stitches.

"You know there are mechanics on base. It's literally their job to keep all the machinery running. Why are you doing repairs to your own helo?"

"Because I know more than most of those idiots! I don't want to be in deep water just because one of those hijos de puta tontos forgot to do something. If I'm going to take 33,000 pounds of metal up into the sky, I sure as hell want to know it's up to snuff."

He can feel the crease in between his eyebrows as he starts to get angry, but that soon melts away as you jokingly massage it with your pointer finger.

“Well, look at you! Flying and fixing, how did you become a jack of all trades?" You softly chuckled.

“Well, my Abuelo could fix anything, but he loved fixing cars and planes in particular. With my mom always busy at work, I spent most of my time with him in the garage, or we would drive to a hangar and fix up a plane. I started out by just handing him tools, but eventually, I learned everything he knew, and I started helping him when I got older."

"Awe, I bet baby Frankie was cute! All covered in grease."

"Are you saying I'm not cute now?" Frankie says in a teasing tone, even though some part of him is completely serious. He wanted even a small piece of hope that could show that you cared about him the same way he cared about you.

He sees you roll your eyes as you start to bandage his hand.

"You know I’m not always going to be here to help with your cuts and bruises, right?"

"But I don’t know what I'd do without my favourite medic," Frankie shoots back, giving his go-to smirk — trying to cover up the hurt around the idea of you somehow not being in his life anymore.

The two of you talk as you continue to wrap his hand. Talk about Rebecca and that horrendous date. In the small silence, Frankie lets slip. "She just wasn't the one.”

Honestly, he knew that even before the date because 'the one' for him was carefully bandaging his hand. The one who worried about him. The one who took care of him. The one standing in front of him.

You finally break the silence, showing that you've finished with his hand. He thanked you, and you both walked toward the nurses’ station. Frankie thinks about how easy it would be to hold your hand as your fingers innocently brushed up against each other while walking. Instead, he just keeps walking down the hall as you stop at the nurse's station.

Stopping in his tracks, he remembers movie night and turns back towards you.

"HEY, MI CIELO! Don't forget movie night at my place on Friday!"

Frankie can't help but smile while leaving, thinking about you and your threat of physical violence toward Benny. Man, he couldn't wait for Friday night.

-----

"What do you mean you're not coming!"

"Allison finally agreed to let me take her on a date, but she's only free tonight."

"Wait, who's Allison? Is she the one with red hair or the one who never stops showing pictures of her hikes?"

"Neither"

"Pope, I can't keep up with you," he rubbed his face and groaned as he continued to push the cart with his elbows. "You can't cancel Pope! Will and Benny both canceled this morning! If you don't come, it will just be Cielo and me!"

"Maybe that's for the best'' Santi's playful tone came from the other side of the phone.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He retorts gruffly, already done with his best friend’s shit.

"You and I both know you’ve been dancing around your feelings for her since day one; maybe you should buck up and make a move Hermano."

"I can't! What if she doesn't feel the same way? I can't lose my best friend."

"Best friend? I'm hurt, Hermano. I thought what we had was special."

Frankie can imagine Santi dramatically clutching his heart. "You know what I mean," rolling his eyes at this whole conversion.

"Well, I still can't come. So I hope you two have a good time. I'll talk to you later. Good luck!"

And before Frankie could respond, Santi had hung up on him.

Frankie puts his phone in his back pocket as he continues to wander the aisles. He looked down at his cart full of groceries, snacks, and drinks. Even though it was now just the two of you tonight, the amount of food he got could feed a small army.

As Frankie heads towards the till, he's distracted by the flower section. He couldn't buy you flowers, right? Unless? No. It was already going to be weird, just the two of you; the last thing he wanted to do was ever make you feel uncomfortable. As Frankie lost himself in thought, an older man came up beside him and said, "She must be a special girl."

Tongue-tied, Frankie didn't know what to say. She was a special girl, but she was more than that. She also wasn't his girl. He didn't know what to do.

"My Winifred's favourite was tulips."

He reached down and grabbed a small thing of pink tulips. Giving them a light shake as he took them out of the water.

"It never hurts to surprise them with flowers, make them feel appreciated. They do so much for us, always caring for us."

He was right; even though he and Cielo weren't together, they always took care of each other.

Giving Frankie a small clap on his bicep, "And don't forget to always cherish her."

Frankie gave a small smile and nodded as the old man walked away. Frankie looked at the flowers for another second before picking up some sunflowers and continuing towards the till.

-----

The day slowly progressed; he put everything away and placed the sunflowers in water on the kitchen table. He wouldn't give them to you, but they reminded him of your smile. He made fresh popcorn with butter before running off upstairs to change.

"FRANKIE?"

Hearing you call his name while walking into his house always felt like a dream. He could imagine you walking into the home you shared together, calling his name, declaring your arrival. He would hug you and pepper you with kisses as you came home.

The night that this felt closest to the truth was one random Tuesday. It was the first time you didn't bother knocking; you just walked in… to his home. You walked in, grabbed a beer, and landed on the couch; he eventually brought you a plate of food and shared dumb stories about his students. As you threw your head back laughing, Frankie knew at that exact moment that he wanted to do this for the rest of his life.

But in reality, he never made any of his friends knock. It was well known his door was never locked, and you could just waltz in, but you were different.

"Up here! Coming!" Frankie rushes down the stairs to greet you, still rearranging the clothes on his body.

-----

Surprisingly you hadn't picked 'The Princess Bride,’ which he knew was your favourite movie. He'd never tell anyone this, but when he was having a dark day or missed you, he would watch 'The Princess Bride’ and think of you.

The both of you had watched 'Wonder Woman' and then put on 'Prospect,’ but as the night started to fall, Frankie's eyelids did as well.

-Dream-

Images of Cielo flashed through Frankie's mind. He couldn't help but smile. Cielo was the one good constant in Frankie's life; when things became too much, he always knew you would be there for him. But his lovely, warm memories of you were quickly distorted and changed into what he could only describe as a nightmare.

"Guys, this is Aaron. Aaron, these are the guys, Will, Benny, Santiago, and Frankie."

Aaron’s arm casually around your waist drove Frankie crazy; he could feel his jaw tightening. Thinking that it should be his arm around your waist, his shoulder you lean your tired head against, and finally, you should be leaving in his truck instead of some fucking Prius. Frankie saw a flurry of snapshots and nightmarish memories of Aaron and your life together. Starting with a simple date where Aaron reaches over and squeezes your hand, and you look at him with so much love and potential.

"That should be me she's looking at like that," Frankie thought, but as soon as it started, new images flashed in front of Frankie, Aaron holding you as you cry, movie nights with just Aaron and you. The last one making Frankie physically wince, Aaron rolling off of you, both of you breathless,

"That was incredible," you say while still trying to catch your breath, looking over at Aaron, propping yourself up on one of your elbows before leaning down and mumbling against his lip, "I love you."

Frankie didn't think it could get any worse; he was wrong.

"We're getting married!" You shriek as you wrap your arms around Aaron’s torso. Benny was the first to offer congratulations, hugging you and picking you up off the ground. But while Will was walking towards you to give his congratulations, Frankie was stuck. He didn't understand, how could you be marrying this guy? His eyes unfocused, and stared off into the distance. His head started to race, but before he could completely spiral, he felt a large wack on his shoulder.

Santi leans in and whispers in his ear, "Come on, Hermano, you’ve got to get it together and go congratulate her." Frankie knew he was right; he came out of his daze, walked forward, and wrapped his arms around you. He put his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent like it was the last time.

Pulling back slightly, "Congratulations, Cielo."

Frankie started to feel uneasy; his stomach began to tie in knots. Suddenly, Frankie was in his tactical gear in the middle of the jungle; he didn't know what he was doing here? He was no longer on active duty; his current job was to teach new pilots how to control a helicopter under extreme conditions. It had been years since he was in full tactical.

It felt heavier than usual… without explicitly knowing that there was a picture in his breast pocket, he took it out and realized why he felt heavier. Tears started to well in his eyes; he turned the picture over and read, "30 weeks. Come home safe, Frankie. This baby needs to meet their godfather."

Silently, Frankie started to cry. Crying over the fact that you were pregnant, that the baby wasn't his, but also over the reality of how happy you were. Happy without him. Frankie turned the picture over and started to caress your face and your bump carefully. Frankie loved you with every ounce of himself, and he would choose your happiness over his every single time. He knew there was nothing for him to do; it was too late to confess his love, but he also knew that he wanted to be in your life, and this baby’s, in any capacity he could, and if "godfather" was his role then so be it.

Suddenly there was loud banging in the distance, gunfire? Frankie's breathing hitched, and then, like some sort of glitch, the picture was no longer in his hands but a gun and the photo on the muddy ground. Frankie bent down to pick up the picture of you, but out of nowhere, he was tackled.

"Estúpido hijo de puta! What the hell were you thinking, Frankie? We're being shot at, and you're just standing there like target practice?!" Santi kept his voice quiet, but that didn't mean he wasn't yelling at Frankie.

"What the fuck are we doing here?" Frankie says, completely confused.

"You need to get your head out of the Sky and help me eliminate this last guy shooting at us so we can go home."

Frankie nods; he will do whatever it takes to get back to you.

"Okay, you go left. I’ll go right. They seem to be following us, so maybe we can surprise them from behind."

Frankie follows Pope's instructions and gives a wide berth to the left in hopes of trapping and surprising the person after the two of them. Frankie slowly crept through the jungle, keeping the end of his gun butted against his shoulder and his eyes keeping track of Pope through glimpses in the foliage. Frankie saw the person after them; he stopped and made eye contact with Pope. Pope gave a small nod. Frankie raised his gun and shot twice in center mass. The body crumpled. Frankie and Pope stalked towards the body. Frankie looked around the body for the gun, but there was none?

Frankie turns over the body… shock hits Frankie's entire body like a wave crashing over him. What had he done, what had he done! He dropped to his knees and cradled your body; Frankie’s gloved hand moved some stray hairs from your face. "Mi Cielo, what are you doing here? Baby, why are you here?" He starts to rock your body and cries, "I'm so sorry, so so sorry. I love you. I love you so much. Come back to me". Frankie feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks up as Pope looks down at him. "This is your fault, Frankie, she's here because you never told her." As soon as he hears that, he can't speak, he can't move, everything is heavy, this is his fault. Suddenly BANG!

-End Of Dream-

Frankie jumped up from the couch in a terrible panic, trying to comprehend what was happening. His eyes dart around the room; he sees a broken plate on the floor and sees you step toward him. Scared of hurting you, he takes a step back. You're trying to talk to him, but it's all garbled; he can't make anything out. Violently, he shakes his head, hoping that everything will go back to normal. Finally, your sweet voice comes to him.

"Frankie, everything is okay, you're safe, I'm right here,"

As he looks down at his hand, he can see the blood that was there as he held your lifeless body in the jungle. Words tumble from his mouth. Part of him knows he doesn't make any sense, but all he knows is he has to keep you safe. Keeping you safe is all he cares about, and to keep you safe, he had to get away from you.

"I need you to stay back!"

Frankie ran into the nearest room and locked the door. He can hear you running after him, but as he slides down against the bathroom wall, everything feels like it's closing in on him. He can feel himself starting to hyperventilate, but the more he focuses on his breathing, the more he panics that he can't get it under control. He can feel himself spiraling; he's shaking, crying, hell, he can't even breathe right, but seconds before he feels like he's going to pass out, he hears you humming.

Humming a sweet melody, he doesn't know the song, but it makes him feel safe. You always make him feel safe. As he focuses on your humming, unconsciously, his breathing starts to even out, and he wipes away some tears. Frankie tended to feel nothing or everything after an attack like this. His hands were still shaking a bit, but when he focused on you, he felt better.

“Frankie? I'm going to go clean up the plate. Just call if you need me. I’ll be right back, okay?”

God, her tone was so sweet, which only made this hurt more. This was just supposed to be a typical movie night so she could get her mind off work, but he had to ruin everything, like always. All he wanted to do was go out and act as if nothing had happened, but he couldn't look into your eyes. He didn't want to show you how broken he was.

Frankie was unsure how much time had passed, but then you finally spoke, “You need to let me in, Frankie...please.”

That broke something inside of him. Hearing your plea, realizing how much this was hurting you, he never wanted to hurt you. That’s why he ran. He didn't want to be the reason to hear such hurt in your voice, but as he reached for the doorknob, his mind betrayed him.

“You don't deserve her. You'll always hurt her. She was happier with Aaron. You could never make her happy.”

As if these words caused him physical harm, he winced and pulled his hand back. His head is low as he took a deep breath, trying to hush these thoughts "...I don't want you to see me like this…"

She says something that makes Frankie chuckle, but before she can continue, he reaches for the doorknob again. He stands and slowly opens the door, revealing him behind. You take his non-bandaged hand in yours and, with your other, wipe the tears that still must be rolling down his cheeks. Your hands are so soft; he never wants to forget your touch. Gently, you pulled Frankie into a hug, wrapping his arms around your torso tightly; he stuck his nose in the crook of your neck. Frankie had never felt safer than in your arms, your fingers tangling in his hair as you rubbed circles on his back.

Eventually, Frankie starts to let go but only far enough to rest his forehead on yours; he stares into your eyes; his eyes then fall to your lips. Trying to alleviate any of the tension that was in the air, the first thing Frankie thought of slipped through his lips. "So, is this where we kiss?"

As soon as it leaves his lips, he wants to take it back.

Quickly changing the subject, you ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Frankie can’t even begin to explain how much he doesn't want to do that. Honestly would rather do anything because the only thing that could make this night worse was seeing pity in your eyes. “Can we just talk about anything else other than that?”

What Frankie wasn't expecting was your reply. “Sure.”

As you lead him to the couch and sit down, he lays his head on your lap without even thinking, only knowing that he needs to be close to you, touching you. You talk about everything that comes to mind. As you talk, he can feel you play with his hair. He closes his eyes and enjoys as your nails gently brush across his scalp.

"Frankie, why do you call me Mi Cielo? I know it means 'my sky,’ but I don't understand why you would call me that? I asked Santi in the past, but he just laughed and rolled his eyes at me."

Frankie groans. The only thing worse than you asking this question is you asking Santi first. Unable to look you in the eyes, Frankie explains his name for you, making sure to keep out a couple of details.

-Flashback-

“How about Mi Cielo?”

The rest of the guys give each other side glances before all bursting into laughter.

Santi, still laughing, said, “You can call her whatever you want. When it's just the two of you in bed.” Giving you a large smirk, “But we need a name we all can use.”

Frankie throws one of Santi’s many throw pillows that cover his couch at him. “Fuck you! It's not like that!”

Benny was now getting in on the teasing. “Oh, then what is it like?”

“We’re just friends! Just like the rest of us!” Frankie gestures to the three guys sitting around him.

While sipping his beer, Will quietly adds, “Man, I hope you don't look at us like that while our backs are turned.”

Frankie’s head whips towards Will, but Will’s comment has already sent the other two men back into hysterics. Frankie can feel his cheeks starting to get hot, so he gets up and grabs another beer from the fridge. Frankie throws back the bit he has left before opening the new one.

Santi walks in and grabs the new beer out of Frankie’s hand before he can drink it and takes a sip. “You know we’re just kidding, right?

Frankie glares at Santi as he turns around and grabs another beer.

“You're our brother; we’re going to give you shit, It's inevitable, but we do want you to be happy. She makes you happy, and even though you can't see it, you make her happy.”

Frankie waves off his comment as he takes a sip of his new beer.

“I’m serious! I wish you two idiotas could see yourselves. You guys have already wasted what? Seven years? I know you guys weren't in a good place when you first met.”

Pope was alluding to the coke. Frankie was now clean, three years sober. It was still a daily struggle, but there was no part of him that ever wanted you to see him like that again.

“But what I'm getting at is that you both have grown. You lean on each other. Hell, didn't you once meet her family?”

“Yeah…”

“Exactly! Now you've just gotta make a move! Because I don't know how many more barbeques I can take where you’re both looking at each other longingly when the other isn't looking.”

Frankie takes another sip. “I don't know, Hermano. I know I love her.” Frankie realizes this is the first time he has said it out loud, partially wide-eyed. He continues, “I want to be with her, but if she says no...I don't know what I’ll do. Part of me is happy with her just in my life, even just as friends.”

Frankie leans against the island with his elbows and rubs his face with his hands. “I don't know what I’d do without her, Pope.”

Santi claps him on the back. “I know, Hermano.”

There was a few seconds of silence before Benny yelled loud enough for Frankie and Santi to hear in the kitchen. “Maybe I’ll ask her out! How do you say it again? Pre-ci-ooo-sa?” (Frankie didn't even know you could butcher Spanish that badly)

Shaking their heads, Santi and Frankie both simultaneously say, “Maldito gringo”

-End Of Flashback-

When Frankie finished his explanation of your nickname, he saw you start to stare off. Thankfully, you were too preoccupied zoning out and playing with Frankie’s hair to see the red tint that slowly crept up his face. Frankie enjoyed the soft touches of your fingers intertwined within his messy curls, wishing he could stay like this forever. But you somehow caught him stifling a yawn. "Let’s get you to bed.”

Frankie was incredibly thankful you agreed to stay; he didn't know what he'd do if he had another nightmare like before. Hearing your steady heartbeat and even breathing kept him calm, but as he lost himself in the rhythm, that's when he heard — your confession. Frankie doesn't move; he’s got to be dreaming, right? His brain is playing a trick on him. You could never love him; he’s just a broken man. As his brain tries to process your confession, he can feel your breathing get shallower; you’ve fallen asleep. He lifts his head, looks at your peaceful face, and thinks, “I love you too, Mi Celio.” He places his head back on your chest and immediately falls asleep.

-----

This was the best sleep Frankie had had in years; he could imagine the rest of his life sleeping right beside you. In between conscious and unconsciousness, Frankie reaches out for you to pull you back toward his body, but all he feels is empty sheets. His eyes instantly open as he sits up to scan the empty bed and the empty room.

Where could you have gone? Could you have just left him in the middle of the night? Before heartbreak overtakes him, he sees the light coming out from under the bathroom door; he throws off the blankets, runs over to the door, and tosses it open. Your eyes meet as the bathroom door swings open; you’re at the sink washing your hands.

Seeing your eyes makes everything better. You didn't leave; you stayed; it wasn't a dream; you did love him. He leans into your hand, and everything feels better.

Frankie opens his eyes and asks, “Are you hungry?”

-----

“Can we talk about you kissing me?”

He could have been more delicate, but he was thinking hard about what to say. The words just tumbled from his mouth as he looked at you across the kitchen.

Seeing you start to backpedal made a small part of his mind doubt what he knew. But his love for you won out. He knew how you felt, and he knew he loved you, and he told you just that.

“I love you too.”

-----

The next couple of hours felt like a dream. You both confessed your love for each other, he finally got to kiss you (and taste you), and he got to worship your body as you deserved. After he rolled off of you, both of you still breathless, you turned your head towards him and said: "That was incredible… that was beyond incredible."

Frankie gave a goofy smile to himself, proud to have satisfied you better than your imaginary boyfriend he made up. But just like in his dream, you propped yourself up, leaned down, and mumbled against his lip, "I love you."

Frankie took further care of you, wiping you down with a warm face cloth and gently reminding you to pee. As he laid in bed waiting for you, he knew he wanted to take care of you for as long as you'd have him. He wanted this for the rest of his life: you taking care of each other. When you crawl back into bed, he wraps his arms around you, wanting you as close as possible, and the both of you fall peacefully asleep tangled together.

-----

Frankie woke up the best way he could ever imagine, with you leaning over him, slowly kissing his face. A smile on his face grew, and he greeted you, "Good morning." And with your warm smile matching his, you greet him as well. "Morning, Frankie."

He pulled you in with his bandaged hand to continue this kiss. After a minute or two, you pull back, Frankie’s lips pursed forward, wanting more, but you stopped to say something. "Oh, by the way, Santi stopped by and wanted to gossip with you, but I told him you were busy."

"Oh, am I?" Frankie said, completely joking. At this moment, he couldn’t care less about Santi. The only person he cared about at this moment was in his arms with the most addicting lips.

"Yes, extremely busy," her lips attached to Frankies. Their lips fought for dominance, but Frankie won when he flipped the both of you, so he was on top. With a small gasp, your mouth opened, and he used this to his advantage. As Frankie's hands traveled down your body and got to the bottom of your shirt, he realized something was different; this didn't feel like the shirt you had been wearing earlier this morning. He broke the long kiss between you two, both of you already breathless, and he looked down.

"Is that my shirt?”

“Yeah, I borrowed it. Is that okay?” He can tell you're a little nervous.

“Yeah, I…you just look good in it… really fucking good”. Trying to keep his feelings in check. He couldn't tell if he wanted you to only wear his shirts from now on or if he wanted to rip it off your body so he could worship every inch of you all over again.

“You should see how good I look out of it,” you say with a wink.

Option two, he thought, definitely option two.

-----

Frankie woke up with your hair tickling his nose, but this only brought a smile to his face when he realized you were here and he wasn't dreaming. Frankie carefully propped himself up and gazed upon your face. He lightly pushed the stray hairs out of your face, pressing a light kiss on your temple. Then, he caressed your face, neck, and shoulder with the back of his fingers. Still asleep, you shifted your body, rolling on your back, seeking his warmth. Frankie's smile only grew as he watched your naked body search for his. Frankie kisses you once again before covering you up with the rest of the blankets, hoping that would stall your search for his body heat. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, he makes his way to the kitchen to once again try and cook a meal. However, the terrible mess in the kitchen looked like it was going to take priority. After throwing away the cold starts of avocado toast, Frankie decides on something simple in case he gets interrupted (his stomach growls in agreement). Not that he'd be complaining; the both of you happily ate the cold takeout that you had ordered before falling back to sleep from exhaustion. He would eat cold food the rest of his life if it meant he could enjoy every noise, moan, and pleasure-filled eye roll you made as he worshipped you like it was his last time.

Frankie quickly whipped up some sandwiches, grabbed a bag of chips and a couple cans of pop (deciding it was late enough in the day for pop but not late enough for a beer). Looking at everything before him, he realized he didn't have one of those trays everyone in the movie seemed to have, mentally adding that to a list of things to buy if you were going to be staying over more. He hoped you would be staying over more. Deciding that they would be sharing a plate (one less thing to carry … and potentially drop,) he moves all the sandwiches onto one plate, puts the bag of chips under his arm, and puts a can in each pocket of his sweatpants, which are pulling them dangerously low, but he didn't have to go far. But before leaving the kitchen, Frankie looked over to his table, which seemed to be brighter from the bouquet of sunflowers he bought the day before. With his one free hand, he grabs a single sunflower and heads back to the bedroom. Opening the door slowly, he sees you cuddled up in the pile of blankets he left you in. Frankie walks over to his side of the bed, places everything on the floor, then cuddles into you. He kisses up your jaw, pressing his nose into your soft skin, tickling you with his scruff. He tries to wake you up with a sing-songy voice.

"Come on Mi Cielo. Waaaake up. I've got a suuuuupriiiiise for yooou"

Only groaning your response

"Come on baby, wake up." Really trying to wake you with his scratchy scruff rubbing up against your face.

"Okay, okay, stop it. I'm up!" Grabbing the sides of his face and pushing him away.

Frankie laughs as you groan, sitting up and leaning against his bed frame.

"Okay, what's the surprise?"

"Close your eyes."

You squint your eyes, suspicious of Frankie, but you both know you trust Frankie with your life. Closing your eyes, you wiggle to make yourself more comfortable against the bed frame.

"Okay, open'em!"

Frankie sees the genuine surprise on your face. "It's nothing fancy, but I-"

Covering his mouth with both of your hands, you interrupt him. "Frankie. This is perfect. Thank you." Releasing his lips, you pull him in and kiss him. Both of you break the kiss rather quickly, knowing if you don't stop, it will be another forgotten meal.

Frankie saw you look at the sunflower on the plate's rim before delicately picking it up and gently tracing the petals with your finger. Internally, Frankie debated whether to tell you the meaning behind the sunflower, but as he saw your soft smile only grow, he simply couldn't hold it in any longer.

“It reminds me of your smile!”

Both you and Frankie are suddenly startled by Frankie's unusually loud declaration. Cocking your eyebrow in confusion, you look at Frankie in hopes of an explanation.

“I - uh, when I was at the grocery store getting food for movie night, I walked past the flower section, and when I saw the sunflower, I couldn't help but think of you… and your smile.” Frankie didn't think he had anything else to say, but he just couldn't stop. “I met this old man, and he told me about his wife and how she liked tulips, and all I could think about was us at that age. What we'd be like. But then I saw this sadness in his eyes, and even though he didn't say anything, I could tell how much he missed her. And all I could think of was how much more I'd miss you if we were that age, and I still hadn't told you how I felt.

As Frankie finished, he felt out of breath, like he had released all he had been holding on to for seven years. It took all of Frankie's conviction and confidence not to hide his eyes from your all-encompassing gaze.

There was a long silence as the two of you stared at each other. This was only broken when Frankie saw your eyes turn partially glassy, and panic flooded his body, but before he could apologize for anything and everything that possibly could have made you cry, he felt your arms be thrown around his neck, and with a tight squeeze he knew everything was going to be alright.

—--

The next two days, neither of you spent more than a couple minutes out of bed and almost always in arm's reach of each other. Contact became practically a necessity, Frankie constantly wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck. Your hands traced each scar, cut, and bruise that littered his body. Neither of you wanted this to end, but Frankie was the first to declare a solution.

"Why don't we both call in sick?"

"We can't just call in sick, Frankie."

"Why not?"

"The both of us calling in sick? That's suspicious. Someone is bound to figure it out."

"We work in two completely different sections, no one would ever know." Frankie knew you. He knew you wanted this; it just might take a little extra convincing. But for a couple extra days with you in this bubble, it was worth it.

"I don't know, Frankie." Frankie saw you hang your head, and he knew this was his moment

"Come on Mi Cielo, play hooky with me." Giving his signature smirk before leaning down, kissing your temple, and whispering in your ear, "I'll make it worth your while."

Frankie pulled back to gauge your reaction. And when he saw your smile, he knew he had you.

"Oh, is that right, Mr. Morales?"

Hearing 'Mr. Morales' come from your lips made him give a low moan before biting his lip, trying to contain it.

"Si mi amour"

Frankie barely answered before dragging you back to the bedroom.

-----

Slowly, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday passed. Frankie and you found a rhythm in your rose-tinted bubble. Nothing appeared to be able to burst it, that was, until an unexpected guest.

Frankie was washing dishes from supper the night before as you dried and put them away. This felt like the most natural thing, sure you had washed dishes together in the past, but now, as Frankie looked over at you, everything was different. You were wearing an old shirt of his and an even older pair of boxers. You shook your hips and swayed to the music that played throughout the kitchen. From time to time, touching his waist as you move past him to put something away, often followed by a kiss on the cheek or behind the ear.

This time, however, Frankie saw you coming and turned to catch your lips; he could feel you react at first but, in an instant, melt into him. Not caring about anything, he turns, making sure not to break the kiss, and pulls you into him with his wet soapy hands, one on your back and one gripping your ass. You gasp in surprise, which Frankie takes advantage of, deepening the kiss. The smell of you fills his nostrils, and the sweet taste of you starts to fog his mind, but before he can do anything else, he hears, "Ahem."

Pulling back, Frankie turns to look at Pope, giving the two of you a shit-eating grin.

Frankie's head falls to your shoulder, and without looking at him, Frankie asks, "What do you want, Pope?"

"Oh well, when I heard my best friend was out sick, I went to see if our licensed medical professional knew anything. But to my surprise, she was out sick too!" Sarcasm dripped from Pope's statement.

Frankie feels a whack on his shoulder. "I told you someone would figure it out!"

Frankie lifted his head and rolled his eyes. "Pope doesn't count as someone."

Looking directly at Pope now, Frankie asks, "Again, what do you want, Pope?"

"Like I said, I wanted to check in on my best friend!"

Frankie cocks his eyebrow, knowing nothing is simple with Pope.

"I've given you guys four days together. Isn't that enough?"

Frankie, already incredibly annoyed by his best friend, matter-of-factly says “No.” before quickly pulling you in and passionately finishing the kiss Pope had so rudely interrupted. Frankie can feel you initially melt into him, but feeling Pope's eyes on you, you quickly come to your senses and push away from Frankie. He can practically feel the heat coming from your cheeks as you look down, making sure to not make eye contact with Pope before quickly excusing yourself to get dressed.

Watching you walk up the stairs to his room, he couldn't comprehend how lucky he was, but his fantasy was quickly dismissed when Pope declared, “Enough about you two, let me tell you about my date!”

Turning his neck, Frankie gave Pope one of the coldest stares he could muster this early in the morning. Either completely missing or ignoring the stare, Pope went into his story about his date with Allison “Okay, so I picked her up and took her to that hot new restaurant I told you about, and then we-” It was then when Frankie tuned Santi out and continued with the dishes, only occasionally adding in a helpful nod and ‘uh huh’ as the story continued.

By the time the story was wrapping up, Frankie heard you coming down the stairs, and he couldn't help but turn to you and smile. Like it was second nature, Frankie opened his arms, welcoming you into his embrace, but before you could Santi had to ruin the moment. “Wipe that goofy smile off your face. She was gone for like ten minutes.”

Santi and Frankie couldn't help but roll their eyes at each other, which only made Cielo giggle as she secured herself in Frankie's embrace.

“So what is this? Are you guys together? Or just fucking?”

Instantaneously, both Frankie and you shout, “Santi!” but Santi brushes this off with a shrug.

Frankie suddenly panicked. These days of playing hooky had let him imagine a life with you. In a perfect world, he'd propose to you right now, and you'd be married, moved in (and hopefully pregnant) by the end of the week.

But maybe that's not what you wanted? Maybe you wanted to just enjoy these days of playing hooky, and once it ended, never speak of it again.

Before fully spiraling, Frankie felt your hand on his chest, grounding him. He looked at you, and even though you were glaring at Santi (much like a sibling would), he knew that this was in no way, as Santi put it, just fucking.

"Santi, I love you like a brother. And because of that, I'm going to politely ask you to leave before I start throwing things. Particularly at your head." The smile on your face was radiant, but Frankie knew the look was dead serious.

Santi barely started, "But I-"

Still with the brightest smile spread across her face, Cielo picked up a plate and stared at Santi.

Santi squints, “You wouldn’t?”

You pull your back, ready to throw. “Try me, pretty boy.”

Seeing she means business, Santi lifts his hands up in surrender and makes his way out of the house.

Before the door closes, you yell out, “Bye, Santi!”

Frankie chuckled and turned to her, “Were you actually going to throw it?” to which she only answered with a shrug before continuing with the dishes. Frankie couldn't help but let out a booming laugh, with tears of laughter.

Once the laughter ends, there's a calm silence around them; the only noise is the sloshing of water from washing dishes and the clinking of plates as they're put away. Frankie knows what he wants, and part of him believes he knows what Cielo wants… but the voice of doubt still lingers in his head. Once again, Frankie is unable to keep his thoughts from spilling out.

“You want this right? You want us…” There's another pause, but this one feels less calm. In the silence, all Frankie can hear is his own heartbeat, slowly starting to rise. He puts the cup he was holding down on the counter, worrying that his sudden clammy hands will fumble it. Frankie sees you stare at your reflection within the sink. As he stares at you, waiting for a response, he sees a tear drop roll down your cheek and hit the water in the sink, making a small ripple.

Without even thinking, Frankie's hands are on your cheeks, wiping the silent tears with his thumbs and turning you to face him. Your brilliant eyes, which he loves so much, are glassy and red from the tears. Frankie sees your throat bob as you swallow hard. Frankie's voice can't help but come out as a beg, “Mi amor, ¿qué es?”

Cielo takes a very shaky, deep breath, and you responds barely higher than a whisper. “I'm scared.”

Another shaky breath was taken before she continued, “I'm scared we're moving too fast. I'm scared that we’ll ruin our friendship. I'm scared you'll fall out of love with me. Im - Im -I'm scared I’ll lose you!” You couldn't help but sob at the last statement, and your knees finally gave way.

Frankie immediately scoops you so he's on his knees, and you're clinging to his chest. He doesn't care that your hands are wet and soapy from the sink, he doesn't care that his shirt is wet from your tears, he doesn’t even care that he landed on his knees so hard he’d probably be sore for weeks. All he cares about is you. Taking care of you. Being there for you. Whatever you need. All that he did was for you.

Unconsciously, Frankie starts to rock you in his arms, whispering “I love you’s” in Spanish and English. The snobs eventually turn into much smaller cries. Frankie is still rocking but now humming a song that he didn't know the words to. Cielo finally looks up at Frankie, and he wipes your tears. “You’re humming my dad's song. He'd sing it to me when I was little.”

“It's also what you sang to me after my nightmare.”

“...I just wanted to help.”

Frankie nuzzles his nose against her cheek, “I know.”

This silence now felt like home. He could only hear their heartbeats, their synchronised breathing, and the song he continued to hum.

“I know you're scared, but being with you is all I’ve ever wanted. And I'm never changing my mind. I want everything with you, big or small,”

Frankie cradles your cheek in his hand and looks into your eyes. “I want to get married and have kids, but I also want to hold your hand when we walk side by side. I want to buy you flowers whenever I think of your smile. I want to have a picture of you in my cap. I want to hold you when we watch Princess Bride.” Taking a breath, he continues, “I want to wake up beside you every day for the rest of my life.”

Frankie leans down to kiss you, and the kiss contains multitudes. Frankie kissed you with a promise of your future together. As he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. “I promise. Nothing could ever take me from you.”

As You looked at Frankie, he knew, in his heart, they would be together for the rest of their lives.

-The Next Last Friday of the Month-

“Hey, Fish were here!”

“Hey guys! We’re in the kitchen!”

As Santi, Benny, and Will enter the kitchen with armloads of beer and chips, they are greeted by both you and Frankie, who are making popcorn and grabbing cold beer from the fridge.

Benny hugs you, lifting you up off your feet. “Oh my god! You're here first? You never beat us!”

“Oh, you know they let me off early today because it was so quiet.” You have a small smirk when Frankie catches your eyes, which he can't help but return. You actually arrived first because you and Frankie had been driving to work together for the past month.

Frankie glances at Santi to see if he's kept his word and not gossiped with the boys about the two of you. The two of you swore him to secrecy because they wanted to tell them together, which he begrudgingly agreed to.

As the five of them head to the living room, you and Benny continue to argue.

“It's Fish’s turn to pick! Those are the rules!”

“But no one showed up last month! All you fucks canceled!”

“It was your pick last month, and Fish’s pick this month. ‘thems the rules!” Benny shrugs nonchalantly.

You land in the middle of the couch with an indignant “Ugh!” as you cross your arms. “This is so not fair.”

All the boys chuckle, Will sits beside you, Benny sits in the armchair, Santi spreads himself over the loveseat, and Frankie goes to the DVD shelf to pick a movie.

Since Benny never knows when to call it quits, whispers under his voice as he takes a sip of beer, “Everyone cancelled because we couldn't stand to watch The Princess Bride again.”

Frankie can hear you gasping behind him, and then he hears what he can only imagine as pillows being pelted at Benny. Everyone starts to laugh again.

Benny starts to scream in defeat. “I'm Kidding! I'm kidding! I'm kidding!”

Frankie puts the movie in the player and turns to see you standing over Benny, who is on the ground trying to dodge punches, pokes, and tickles. Frankie chuckles and sits down on the other end of the couch to Will and presses play to the movie.

“Admit defeat Miller! And I’ll take mercy on you!”

“Uncle! Uncle!”

“Say it!”

“The Princess Bride is the best movie ever!”

Satisfied, you stand and take the middle seat between Will and Frankie.

Out of breath, Benny crawls back into the armchair before asking Frankie, “So what are we watching, Fish?”

“The best movie ever.”

You look at Frankie with a touch of shock and he can't help but smile. Benny lifts his eyebrow in confusion until the movie tile screen comes up.

Benny groans and everyone laughs. You kiss Frankie on the cheek and cuddle beside him. Frankie kisses you on the top of the head. “Cualquier cosa por ti mi amor”

There's approximately 1 minute of silence before Will speaks up. “What the fuck?”

Benny is still staring at the two of them with a blank face of confusion.

Will once again, “Are we missing something?”

You shush Will “ssssshhhhh the movies starting!”

Benny, this time, stands up and blocks the TV. “No, no, no, explain.”

Frankie glances at Cielo to which she answers with a shrug. “Fine if it gets us to watch this movie quicker. Fish and I are together” Benny goes to interrupt but she stops him “Uhp! Uhp! Uhp! We've been together for a month, we are happy, and we will be taking nobody else's opinions.”

Benny and Will finally look at Santi, who has been playing on his phone the entire time.

Santi turns his head, “What?”

“Do you have anything you want to add?”

Santi thinks for a moment before throwing some popcorn in his mouth. “We should all start knocking because I walked in on them basically having sex in the kitchen.

This made both Frankie and you yell, “Santi!” and for good measure, you threw another pillow, adding, “We were just kissing!”

Hearing giggles from the Miller brothers behind you, you whip around “Anything else?”

Almost immediately, they leaned back in their seats like nothing had happened.

Frankie pressed play, and they started watching The Princess Bride when Benny quietly whispered, “It's about goddamn time.”

To which they all can't help but laugh.

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Roy/Jamie prompt: Due to some freak accident Jamie takes something super heavy right to the chest, like a weight or a medicine ball. The breath his completely knocked out of him, he's literally knocked off his feet and as he lays there gasping in agony his eyes find Roy and with whatever strength he's got he reaches out to him. A horrified Roy rushes to his side, pleading with Jamie to hang on as the younger man passes out. There's a mad rush to the hospital where Jamie pulls through and isn't actually as hurt as everyone thought. It just scared the crap out of them all, especially Roy who goes uber protective mode as he takes over Jamie's care. It's just the jolt these two need to finally realize what they mean to each other.

Oh he gets the wind knocked out of him. Had that happen to a friend when I was like 9. He fell off a high swing and straight onto his chest. We all thought he needed a hospital was absolutely terrifying.

-

Roy is frozen for a second before he leaps forward. Jamie is gasping and shaking. He’s clawing at his chest. Roy slams into the ground next to him.

“Jamie? Can you breathe?”

He gets a broken gasp and a shudder in response. “Okay hospital call a squad.” Jamie’s eyes fill with tears. He reaches a hand out towards Roy. Roy takes the hand without thinking. He links their fingers together. “Come on Jamie. You’ll be okay stay awake.” Jamie shakes his head. He starts crying for real and scratching at his chest.

Roy only prays the squad gets here faster

——

Roy has refused to leave Jamie’s side ever since the hospital said he could be discharged. Roy almost fought the doctor who said he could leave. Jamie’s chest was black and blue. He shook when he took his hoodie off. Roy needless to say forced him into a wheelchair to take him to his car.

“Old man shouldn’t the rolls be reversed?” Roy snorts. He can’t help it. He’s just happy to hear Jamie talking and joking again. “We’re going to my house. Be good not a word about the dog.”

Jamie perks up at the mention of a dog. “Dog! Roy you’ve got a dog?? How long? What’s its name? What kind! Why haven’t I known this?” Roy snorts and buckles Jamie’s seatbelt.

“Two months. Frankie. Chihuahua. Cause I hadn’t told you yet. Phoebe wanted a dog. Ruth said if I got one it’d basically be like hers.” Jamie blinks at all the information. “So you got a dog so your niece would be happy? God I love you.”

Roy nearly chokes on the gun he’s chewing. “You’re drugged.” Jamie shakes his head and rests it on the window. “Always loved you. This made me realize I should say it.”

Roy jerks the car into the closest parking lot. He shoves it in park and stares at Jamie. Who understandably looks a little startled. “You fucking muppet. I was going to say that later.” Jamie’s mouth opens and closes. “No the fuck you were not.” Roy grabs his hand and holds on tight. “I love you. I want to date you.”

Jamie’s mouth drops open. He can’t believe it. “You love me like I love you?” Roy smiles. He brings Jamie’s hand up to kiss it. “Hate that it took this to make me say it but yes. I do.” Jamie let’s out a whoop that makes Roy’s head hurt a little.

“Roy Kent loves me. He fucking loves me!” Roy laughs and shifts to drive again when he’s attacked. “Kiss! Now! Now now now now now now.” Roy cuts him off by obeying. Kissing Jamie is nice feels right.

Roy pulls away with a tap to Jamie’s chest. “No strenuous activity for at least a week. Behave.” Jamie whines but Roy ignores him. “I’ll let you get Frankie outfits with my card if you’re good.” Jamie grabs the hand not on the wheel. “Oh I love you.” Roy snorts.

“I love you too.”

[dragons-and-magic]

I got more questions now, lol!🤣🤣🤣

Which type of dragon is critically endangered?

What’s the dynamic between Edward and James?

What’s Thomas’ backstory?

What’s the most common cause of death to the dragons? :(

Is there any dragons that can fly into space? lol

What type of dragon is Edward?

Are Frankie and Hurricane redeemable?

Who will most likely annoy others with dumb jokes or puns?

I know it’s weird but what zodiac sign do you see in James?

How do dragons age?

Awesome! Let's see now.

1: Which type of dragon is critically endangered?: Pretty much every species. Humans don't like dragons much. Some species are literally extinct.

2: What’s the dynamic between Edward and James?: Hm, I guess Uncle/Nephew kinda? Co-workers?? Clan mates??? I've never really been able to place their type of relationship. So it's kinda weird.🤔 They seem, friendly toward each other. At least in the newer episodes. I don't know really. Sorry.😅 Definitely gonna have to work on that one.

3: What’s Thomas’ backstory?: SAD STORY INCOMING! In the early days, when Henry, Gordon, and Edward had just become the new guardians of Gold Stone, they went out on missions to find and retrieve fleeing dragon trying to escape from humans. Thomas's mother was one of these.

Thomas's mother was running away from humans, trying to carry her newly hatched cub to safety. A hunting party was close on her tail and had already injured her wing. In a desperate attempt to escape, she leapt off a cliff into the ocean, and swam all the way to an island near Sodor. That's were Edward found her. Unfortunately, by the time he made it, the poor dragon had already succumbed to her injuries on the shore and was dead. But, underneath her wing, curled up and afraid, was a little dragon cub. It was Thomas. Edward was heartbroken her couldn't rescue the mother. But as a way of making it up to her, he adopted Thomas as his own.

This story is subject to change, but this is what I have so far.

4: What’s the most common cause of death to the dragons?: Humans. :( MORE Sad Stuff incoming! You have been warned! The situation between humans and dragons is weird. While they were always hunted, they are less known about now and less threatened. Dragon legends were more easily believed in the old days. And while humans sometimes take them down by mistaking for space craft or enemy planes, the dragons usually aren't found and simply succumb to their injuries far away from humans. Because even when dying, no one can allow what happened during the dragon hunting crusades. Not again...

5: Is there any dragons that can fly into space?: I actually talked about a dragon species that can here! But they are more or less supernatural entities that may or may not be real. In that case, no mortal dragon can fly in space. Because even if they're magic, they still need air to breath. Lol.

6: What type of dragon is Edward?: The working title for his species is a Lunar Moth Knucker. If you don't know what a knucker is, here's a handy chart of dragon types! You'll see it towards the bottom.

A few interesting things about his species is 1) they are said to be direct descendants of Lady, 2) their unusual deer like antlers help channel magic and manifest it in glowing swirls on the prongs or a small orb in-between them, and 3) their wings sport a eye-like pattern that can reflect light and is used for frightening off enemies. It's similar to the wings of a Lunar Moth, their namesake.

7: Are Frankie and Hurricane redeemable?: Absolutely! They'll get a redemption arc for sure!

8: Who will most likely annoy others with dumb jokes or puns?: Most likely? Thomas for sure. And he would do it annoy James and Gordon. And so would Bill and Ben. To annoy everyone.😂

9: I know it’s weird but what zodiac sign do you see in James?: I had to look up Zodiac signs for this, because I knew nothing about it. I still don't quite understand everything, but I'm going to say Capricorn? I don't know. Lol.

10: How do dragons age?: This one is complicated to answer, because I have yet to find a way that works well with the story. I have established though that Dragon can live up to hundreds of years old. And possibly age much slower than humans. I'll have to figure out a more definitive answer, but for now that's what I got.

Thanks for the questions! This was an interesting one!

[kittyofalltrades]

Last Minute Under the Table

You get a last minute invite to a work party. But under the table is where all the action is. Thanks to @welcometostayingawake for enabling me and keeping me motivated. :)

Words:1607

Rating: Explicit 18+ ONLY MDNI

Characters: Benny Miller, Santiago "Pope" Garcia, Reader (No use of Y/N)

Beta: Me I still can't spell lol (literally if you catch a mistake let me know)

WARNINGS: Hint a knife kink (no blood and no blade applied to skin), Food play (licking off fingers and chest), Public/Semi public sex, fingering, handjob, profanity NOT A DARK FIC I REPEAT NOT A DARK FIC

!!!!!!!!!!!!NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!!!!!!!!

You sat at a table in the back of the large party room nursing your beer, and glaring at the men brave enough to come near. You’d received a last-minute invitation from Will, your supervisor, after he failed to send out a guest list. And so far all the other guest where drunk retirees with nothing to do with themselves or people that acted like they had better things to do than to attend. 

Except those three, his friends and brother, he’d said when he introduced them to you. Benny Miller tall, blond, athletic and sexy, with smoldering blue eyes. Santiago “Pope” Garcia salt and pepper curls, great ass and a quick smile after a beer or two. Frankie “Catfish” Morales, tall, patchy facial hair but sweet. You listed their names in your head as you watched them surround Will. If you hadn’t had your eyes trained on Benny, you might have missed the nudge and nod in your direction he gave Santi. An action that made you roll your eyes at them.

Benny watched the woman Will worked with roll her eyes and head to a deserted table in the back. That gave him hope that tonight he’d actually be able to make a move. He’d seen her around, but Will had given him strict orders to stay away. Something about not fucking his coworkers and him being a womanizer. He hadn’t given that same speech to Santi, who was just as much a womanizer as he was. 

When Benny made his move, Santi followed closely at his heels. He was determined to take this girl home before Benny scooped another girl from under him. He refused to be left high and dry again. So where Benny went tonight he was going to follow, even if it meant zig zagging through a crowd of drunks. 

You took a sip of your lukewarm beer with a grimace when they finally reached your table. One man sitting on each side of you giving you smiles that came off lecherous instead of friendly. 

“What can I help you with?” you asked. May as well try polite since neither man seemed the type to be bullied by you.

“We just want to talk darlin’. Maybe make friends,” Benny drawled softly. 

You blinked at him in surprise. That was not the voice you’d expected out of him. Maybe a pack a day smokers rasp, but not the deep voice that sounded like it was built for reading filth. The twang he had added depth to this voice making you shiver a little under his blue—eyed gaze.

“We could be good friends,” Santi added, making you turn to him. 

His brown eyes twinkled with mischief as he dragged his tongue over his full lips, drawing your eyes downward. You watched as his lips quirked up in a smile before he dragged his tongue over his lips again, sinfully slowly. 

You barely managed to tear your eyes away from his mouth to take another sip of your beer. “Do you two always attempt to hit on girls together, or am I just special?”

Both men laughed, making you feel silly for assuming they were hitting on you. Until they both turned their eyes back on you, telling you that your assumption was correct, they both wanted you. You ignored the thought, deciding to engage the beautiful men in conversation, even as Will shot daggers at them from across the room.

Soon you were lost in the thrum of music and pleasant conversation with Santi. Finding out he had bad knees, but that never stopped him from putting in the work. Benny was a decent cage fighter, and could do his share of manhandling. You ignored the flare of want that rolled through you at both comments, trying to keep things civil and above board.

You were working your way through a slice of angel food cake, soft airy and heavily coated in whipped cream while you talked. Lost in conversation about the merit of video game movies when you missed your mouth with your fork. The missed bite sent the cake tumbling into your cleavage and left a smear of whipped cream on your face. Shame set in quickly and your cheeks warmed. 

You reached to pluck the cake off your tits when Benny caught your hand stopping you. 

“Look at our girl covered in cream, Pope. Doesn’t she look lovely,” Benny purred at you.

“Gorgeous,” Santi agreed. 

Santi dragged his thumb through the smear of whipped cream on your cheek and brought it to his lips. You watched as he licked it off with a small moan that sounded entirely too sexual for food. Benny removed the cake from where it sat forgotten on your chest and gave you a sinful look. 

“May I darlin’?” He asked with a downward nod, indicating the leftover whipped cream. 

You nodded mutely, thinking he was going to do what Santi had done and swipe his fingers through the mess. You let out a moan when he applied his tongue to the tops of your breast licking and sucking the whipped cream from your skin. 

Santi slapped a hand over your mouth. “Quiet hermosa, we wouldn’t want to draw attention, would we?”

Before you could acknowledge his words, his free hand dropped to your thigh. He dragged his blunt nails up your thigh, sending sparks of arousal in the wake of his touch. He paused when he reached the hem of your skirt waiting, for what you never found out because Benny’s sucking a hickey on your left breast drew your attention to him.

“Don’t hog her Benny,” Santi hissed while he pushed your legs apart. He worked his hands higher, coming in contact with your panty covered cunt. He ran his thick finger over your slit, smiling at the wetness he’d encountered. “She’s fucking soaked.”

Benny groaned against your tits, sending a shiver through you. He pulled Santi’s hand away from your mouth, giving you a hot sloppy kiss while Santi growled his frustration at your panties. You were so lost to Benny’s mouth on yours that you missed the snick of a pocket knife being opened. You felt the cool metal briefly kiss your skin as Santi carefully cut the delicate fabric away, exposing your cunt to open air. 

“There we are, princesa,” Santi breathed into your ear while he pocketed the tattered fabric. 

Benny pulled his lips away from yours and glanced around before guiding your hand to his cock under the table. “If you’d be so kind darlin’.”

You fumbled Benny’s cock out of his pants while Santi worked his hand back up your thigh. You stroked Benny’s cock, slowly marveling at his size and girth. If you sucked him off, you wondered if you could fit him in your mouth. Your thoughts shattered in an instant when Santi’s fingers found your clit rubbing in small, quick circles. 

You pulled your lip between your teeth, cutting off the moan that was building in your throat while Santi put his fingers to good use. Benny growled his impatience and gripped your hand and thrust upward, fucking your fist. You whined loudly when Santi plunged two of his fingers into your warm cunt, groaning himself at how tightly your pussy clenched around him.

“Fuck you should feel her Benny. Her sweet pussy is holding me so tight,” Santi whispered and his breath ghosted across your skin, making you shiver. 

“Gonna let us fuck your tight little pussy babydoll?” Benny asked harshly as his voice and accent deepened with pleasure. 

“And my ass,” you moaned softly, imagining them stuffing your holes full at the same time.

Santi’s fingers stuttered for a second as what you said hit him. He couldn’t believe you’d offered your ass up to them. “Tell me what you want again, hermosa.”

“I want you and Benny to fuck my ass and my pussy,” you moaned softly.

The words had Benny’s cock twitching,, and he brought his fist to his mouth to cover the loud moan that was trying to escape as he spilled into your hand. The sound of Benny moaning and his cock twitching in your hand was enough to pull you under. The band of arousal that pulsed just under your skin snapped and you gripped Santi tightly as your whole body trembled with the force of your orgasm. Santi pulled his fingers out your wrecked hole and brought his fingers to his lips, earning a moan from both you and Benny. You released Benny’s cock and brought his spill to your mouth. You took your time licking his spend from your fingers, earning a moan from both men. 

Benny lazily tucked himself away and leaned against you with a smile. You pressed a soft kiss against his forehead just as Will approached, giving the three of you a stern look. You didn’t know what you did to earn the stern gaze,, but you wilted. 

“Really Benjamin, the one girl I told you to keep away from,” Will growled. “And you Pope. Why must you two make my life hard?”

“Something i is hard alright,” Benny said lazily. The joke made you, and Santi giggled at the pure childishness of it. A quick glance at Santi’s crotch showed he wasn’t wrong. 

“When they break your heart, don’t come crying to me,” Will grumbled before storming off. 

“The only thing we are going to break is your bed, hermosa.”

“And probably Pope’s shitty knees.”

You chuckled at the banter between the men you sat between. As soon as Benny recovered, the rest of the night was going to be interesting. 

Thanks for reading comments and reblogs will literally have me spinning in a circle like an excited dog...so feel free to do that

[jerseymuppet]

i might be stupid but. is the gothamverse a muppets batman au? is that what the thing in ur bio means? (either way plz do tell me abt it)

That would definitely be infinitely cooler than my idea! Gothamverse is the beautiful result of me playing arkham knight while waiting for an mcr livestream to start up and thinking ‘damn bitches from jersey are fucking insane! ....wait a minute’

It’s basically a silly little idea I came up last March with where all the mcr guys are from Gotham and what their villain origin stories would be etc. I followed the main Batman villain archetypes: extremist, anti-hero, camp, and serial killer, and I had a fucking blast! It’s very silly and just something I did for fun. I guess I can go a lil bit into it here.

full disclosure, I am psychotic and disabled and I do not believe in the vilification of mental illness or disability in media, all of these characters will eventually get the help they need. Batman at its core is about a mentally ill man helping others who have been failed by society and I will never forgive dc for making him into an overpowered, glorified cop.

Frank’s character (Francis ‘Frankie’ Stein) is the extremist (duh). He’s the son of a mafia boss who is steadily ruining their town with crime and Frankie just kinda snaps and kills him to take his place as the head of the family and try to undo some of the damage done. He has great intentions, he’s just very unyielding and kind of insane 💕 his moniker is Frankenstein! And his whole schtick is that he’s very hard (if not impossible) to kill. He’s also chronically ill and Jewish, these are not important to his character but they are important to me !

Mikey’s character (Micheal Way) is the serial killer. He’s a ‘sociopath’ (theres nothing actually wrong with him, people just suck and made him feel lesser and out of place :/) trying to fit in with everyday society but he always feels like something is missing and becomes a neuroscientist to try to find what exactly it is. He invents a machine (the empathsizer) that allows him to experience other people’s memories and emotions as though they are his own. From there he accidentally gets addicted to the chemical responses his brain has to doing that. And keeps doing it. Even after the testing phase is no longer accepting applicants. It gets worse after he experiences someone’s near death experience and starts chasing the high it gave him. Idk what his moniker is? It’s sandman for right now but that’s honestly so boring and uninspired.

Ray’s character (Raymond Ortiz) is camp but very loosely. He’s an engineer by day and a rockstar by night! He’s really only an engineer to save up enough money to pursue music full time but it’s hard because he doesn’t get paid that much. Winter hits and with it, cuts to his hours! So he’s forced to choose between rent and electricity. When he gets really sick as a result, he can’t afford a doctor. And when he wakes up with his hearing gone as a result, theres nothing he can really do but spiral into a depression. Until he realizes he’s a literal biological engineer. If he can’t fix his problem he can at the very least prevent it from happening to someone else! Research does cost money, so it’s very fortunate that Gotham has so many banks. His moniker is Dr. Megahurtz! His weapon of choice is his guitar, which has been retrofitted with sonic emitters to amplify and weaponize the hertz. Not enough to hurt, but enough to incapacitate.

Gerard’s character (Jules Moss) is the anti hero! She’s (yes I made Gerard’s character a trans girl, they took too long to make a trans character so I did it for them) has the same backstory as Gerard actually! On her way home from work she witnesses a terrorist attack, but instead of starting a band she decides to fight crime instead. She does so bad. Literally her first night out patrolling she gets killed by some priest who’s been driven insane by what he claims is an angel that’s ‘chosen him to impart gods will’ but it’s just a fallen star looking for a vessel to possess and the first guy it came across wasn’t dead lol. The star turns into a sword of pure light and that’s what Jules gets stabbed with, but also it fuses itself to her dna so she wakes up a few days later, schrödingers girl, with some scary new abilities and a voice in her head that definitely wasn’t there before. Her whole arc is her trying to find the guy that killed her and get revenge. Her moniker is stigmata! Because when she gets impaled it also goes through the palms of her hands and the wounds don’t heal.

but yeah that’s the bare bones of it all! I’m planning on making this into a comic series but the script is still being written at the moment! Thank you for letting me ramble about it 💕🥰

[something-tofightfor]

Aaaargh Liminality chapter 10... perfection!!! I'd been anticipating the moment Frankie and reader shared at the end of the chapter for a long time, but had been trying not to think about how it may play out. Mainly due to past experiences reading fiction I was really invested in (published authors with oodles of books on shelves of libraries and bookshops!), and then being disappointed that the big moment actually wasn't as good as I'd imagined or hoped it would be.

But oh my life.

There's such a brilliance in the way you wrote the moment of Frankie transforming. The uncertainty for both of them, the depth and unexpected range of emotions, their reactions to each other... it was profound to read.

I remember a sense of relief, thinking to myself "of course that's how they'd react, that's so like both of them". Not because it was predictable in any way, but because of the rich world you've created in Liminality - to feel like I know the characters well enough to recognise their reactions and behaviours as something familiar. That's such a gift you give to your readers.

Thank you for sharing your light with the world, it brings some sparkle to my day whenever I read your work! 💜

I've held onto this for a couple weeks because I wanted to be sure answered you thoroughly.

First of all, thank you. Thank you for reading and for caring about this version of Frankie and his friends, and this Reader character.

When I started writing this, I always knew that I wanted the first time she saw him transform for the first time to be Special. I wanted to give it time, and to make sure that it counted, and that when they reached that point, they were both sort of ... deserving of the moment?

The only people that have ever seen Frankie change are his brothers. Reader literally hunts wolves, and has never seen one ... so for them to share that moment and have it be meaningful and go smoothly was really important for a lot of different reasons.

I was super worried that it would fall flat, too, just because it was so important a part of their story.

I wrote and read and reread and rewrote that section a few times, because I wanted to drive home the fact that Frankie's still Frankie even when he's on all fours, and she recognizes and respects that. Yeah, there's a little fear there on both sides, but I think that's natural. He can tell she's not afraid of him, and that really helps. (But in the same vein, the Chaos wolf knows that she is afraid of him, so that ... doesn't help.)

You saying that not only did that moment not disappoint you, but calling it profound? I want to print this up and hang it on the wall and look at it every time I doubt my writing. Thank you. I honestly don't even think those words are adequate, but THANK YOU.

You have so many nice things to say that it's flooring me, and I appreciate every one of them. I think for me, as I've written this story, these characters have come alive for me in some ways; Reader's still a Reader insert, but she's also become her own person in the sense that she responds to Frankie - and even to the other guys - in very specific ways that I *hope* feel real for only knowing them for a couple months, and not just like a blank character form or something like that.

And Frankie ... sweet, nervous Frankie ... all he wants is someone that understands and cares for him and won't hold what he is against him in the way so many others - and even most people in Reader's shoes - would.

They both deserve happiness, and they both deserve to find and keep someone in their lives that will give them exactly that, in all the ways they need it.

I hope you enjoy the rest of the story. I hope it's not too predictable. I hope that when it's done, you'll let me know if you like the direction that I took it in.

Please take care of yourself and have an amazing rest of the week.