#kissing you

[castelovladraculamick]

Sou imune a qualquer coisa que possa me acontecer, menos ao teu sorriso

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Just In Time - A "Kissing You" Drabble

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader Warnings: None other than this is a little angsty. Word Count: 1313 Prompt #34: I missed you kisses a/n: Frankie wouldn't leave me alone again. Here's this! Enjoy!!

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It started when you were gifted a prayer candle, your favorite actor's face plastered on the side. Your friend had meant it as a joke, but then things started happening.

It began small, all things considered. The day after you lit it for the first time, you found a twenty dollar bill swirling across the wet pavement of the parking lot at the grocery store. After the second, someone paid for your coffee before you got to the window, a favor you promptly passed onto the next person, but still, you could feel the shift in the air.

It was silly, really. Just a superstition everyone told you, but you kept lighting it anyway, hoping that it did really summon good news. After all, the washer, which had been on the fritz for weeks and you were certain you'd have to replace soon, suddenly started working again after the first week. The candle burned lower, lit every evening as some kind of ritual, and the good fortune extended outward when your favorite actor was cast in a major franchise, a win you celebrated as though it were your own. And then, just before it burned to the base, you met Frankie.

Frankie, who you met while shopping for a replacement candle and who never once batted an eye at the number of wicks and lighters you went through in the months that followed. Who quickly gifted you a new candle identical to the first, the sticker creased a bit on one side. It gives it character, you'd told him when he offered to replace it, and you'd lit it all the same. The man who bought you an electric rechargeable lighter he'd seen on Instagram because he figured it might be a little better for the environment. Who took you to a local candle making class to refill the original vase to the brim so you could burn it all over again.

It was Frankie who lit the candle before he left, his eyes somber as he crossed the room to your waiting arms, clinging to him until the second Santiago was laying on the horn in the driveway. The mission was only supposed to last a few days, each of which you spent carefully igniting the wick, certain that it would bring him home to you safe and sound.

Only as the candle burned lower, so did your hope.

Panic had begun to set in around the sixth day, when the text chain with his name at the top suddenly showed more blue than grey, no indication that he'd even read them. And it wasn't as though you could call someone, because you knew the nature of their visit to Columbia. You knew the stakes, you knew why the police couldn't be involved. Frankie had made it very clear when you'd first started dating that he had some baggage, and this was just part of the load that he struggled to carry. But his loyalty to his friends had overwhelmed him and off he went with a reassurance that he'd be home before the flame went out.

Day by day, you watched it burn down. You knew that it was getting low, more content to watch it evaporate to nothing than not light it at all. After nearly ten days of anguish, you had to finally admit to yourself that something bad had happened. That the power of the candle had finally been broken in the worst way imaginable. That the flame that had brought him to you had taken him just as quickly. But still, you kept lighting it anyway.

Until it went out entirely.

The living room became a blanket of black when the tiny flicker diminished, your eyes set on where the small bit of light had existed until long after the smoke dissipated. A part of you willed yourself to admit that maybe everything had been a ruse. That perhaps Frankie and your existence with him had just been a dream you hadn't woken up from. That the candle finishing its life was some kind of sign that it was time to open your eyes and return to reality. But somewhere, deep down, the flicker of home continued to burn, and suddenly you were frantically searching for another candle to light.

When you came up short, finding only empty glass in the cabinet, you raced to the store. Thunder shook you to your core as you hurried inside and then back out to the truck, lightning flashing overhead in a brilliant display. The rain pounded on the windshield, fogging your vision as you carefully drove the familiar streets back to the home you shared with Frankie. White knuckles gripped the steering wheel until you were safely parked back in the driveway, the keys pulled from the ignition before you leaned your head back against the headrest of the driver's seat.

You glanced over the bench at the candle, the top just peeking out from the plastic shopping bag. This one was plain, no actor's face or creased sticker on the side. Just a plain, white candle in a glass vase. If you were being honest, you were mostly just thankful that it was unscented because anything else would compete with the smell of Frankie that lingered in his truck, the one you'd been clinging to. The one you allowed yourself to breathe in for an extra moment.

With a heavy sigh, you grabbed the handles of the bag and braced yourself to run through the downpour to the front porch, wishing you'd grabbed your raincoat instead of simply rushing out of the house in one of his flannels. Drenched by the time you made it under the awning, you quickly unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing it behind you and shrouding yourself in darkness once more.

Except, you weren't in complete darkness.

Your gaze lands immediately on the candle, a fresh one sitting next to the original with a different picture of your favorite actor on the side. You step closer, noting that the wax is barely pooling, the candle recently lit, and you're thankful for the rug you'd convinced Frankie to put in the living room because it stops the candle in your bag from shattering when you race into his arms.

He's kissing you before you can fully process what's happening, his lips devouring yours before you can even scan his skin for marks, although the nasty cut on his cheek will haunt you in the later hours, when he tells you what really happened in South America through a fresh set of tears he held in until he was in your arms. He's gripping you the same way you'd held him before he left, completely and entirely, as his lips trail along your cheekbones and your jaw, kissing every inch of your face as though he thought he'd never see it again.

And to be fair, he hadn't.

"You got a new candle," you say weakly, voice betrayed by the onset of tears in your eyes, your forehead still in place against his. When Frankie kisses you again, it's deeper, your back arching slightly with the force of him against your body. You feel it, the way he's telling you just how much he missed you and how hard he fought to return to your waiting arms.

"I told you it would bring me back to you," he responds softly, his hands cupping your cheeks as he gently kisses your hairline before pulling you against him, cradling you in his embrace. "But since it took me a bit longer to get back home, I figured it might be running low."

You smile against his chest, some kind of relieved laughter vibrating through you both as he wraps his arms around you again, rocking you softly. "Yeah, it was. You got here just in time."

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[notthatdom]

I wake up and the first thing I want to do is see you. How frustrating it is , to open my eyes and - not have you there waiting for me with the very smile that owns my soul.

waking up next to you is like a dream coming true

[yourenumber1]

Maybe a little teeth bumping 😉💋

[crescentpaws]

BAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

THANK YOU FINTANCEST!! (aka fintan toucher 69) i love these drawings so much he looks so silly i am crushing him in my bare hands and gnawing on him with my teeth. jumping up and down

also have i mentioned that i love your art style before because i do

[avatar-firelordzuko]

[bioluminescentfrog]

Booo!!!

Merry spooky helowin :3

HOLY SHIT. ITS THE GUYS AS CATS???? MY GUYS?? THIS IS BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVE YOU FOREVER

[mydreamofthegaymens]

[heartofmuse]

Honey clouds, soft as the dreams they utter, sweet as a wish fulfilled, your lips, beloved, are what mine hunger for, want to taste, and drink .

e.v.e.

[neverchecking]

Materializes into your inbox

Calamity hcs, you say? 👀

On the topic of him being a virgin, yes, absolutely 1 million percent. He's a blushing virgin that's prone to premature ejaculation.

He's just way too anxious and inexperienced and pent up, he can't help but come all over your hands practically the second you touch him. God forbid you go straight to fucking, because you're getting creamed immediately. Especially if you're his guide, because that's just all kinds of sexual tension you're relieving.

He'd need to take a break, but he's absolutely between your legs with his mouth and hands the whole time. He may not be able to last long himself, but he's still going to make you cum as many times as you want. He wants, no, needs to show you that he can please you just as well as any of the other Links, even if he needs a bit of...practice.

I think he'd also have an especially short refractory period. He may have just cum, but a few minutes fingering you and licking his cum off you, and he's already hard and leaking again.

He's probably also the type to get hard if you just...touch him gently. Like caressing his cheeks, stroking his hair, maybe telling him how sweet and obedient he is compared to his twins, and he's got a raging boner. He can't help it.

Or if you give him a chaste kiss, maybe just a little bit of tongue. You might as well have given him a strip tease because he's stiff in his pants, ready to fuck or be fucked. It wouldn't take much to make him cum, either. Just sit on his lap and grind on him for a minute or two, and he's creaming his pants with a pathetic whimper.

FAIRY COMING IN CLUTCH-

He for sure ejaculates prematurely the first time your hand even grazes his crotch.

He's under a lot of stress, constantly, and has had no time for rendezvous' of any kind. He doesn't even touch himself. His schedule consists of wake up, suit up, breakfast, then he's following the princess, maybe lunch, following the Princess, training, dinner, following the princes, standing guard to her room until he's relieved of duty and then off to bed. No time for anything in between.

When he meets you, and you're showing clear signs you're into him? He's panicking just a bit. He has no idea what to do, what sex even entails, nevertheless how to please you in a way he knows you'll please him. If you take the lead, he's both incredibly thankful, but also so stressed. He just wants the earth below him to swallow him hole when he paints your hand a pretty white the second your fingers wrap around him. If you go straight to fucking? It's just the tip and you're getting your own personal pie. And he's ready to cry because holy fuck he just ruined everything but your still looking at him with that same sweet look on your face and-

Controversial, but any and all of the triplets are kings at cunnilingus. Including Cal. It's just a natural talent. And it's exactly how he makes it up to you. Fingering takes some fine-tuning and gentle instruction, but his tongue. LORDY LORDY- Mans has some talent. And if his technique needs some work, he loves practicing with you.

His refractory period is insanely short. Like, he just came? He's hard all over again even if overstimulation make shim wanna cry. Even if he is crying while you ride him, he's begging you to not stop because it just feels so good. And he leaks. Pre-cum everywhere. He can't help it! He just get so excited. And while it gets better the more experience he gets, it's never quite gone.

You don't even have to touch Cal. You know the tiktok trend like "Stop looking at me with those eyes." "What eyes?". That's Cal and his lover. They just have to look at him with that look. But he'll never turn away soft hair strokes or touches on his cheeks. And if you praise him? Telling him how much calmer her is? How much better he listens when compared to them? He's leaking a spot into the front of his pants, whimpering and keening like a horny dog.

He can't even control himself. Frenching this man, even just the bit, has him either grinding against you, holding you as close as possible, or he's practically humping the air begging for friction.

Cal being an inexperienced virgin, cumming in his pants and crying in overstimulation >>>> Literally anything.

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Sleepless - A "Kissing You" Drabble

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader Warnings: I'm gonna go with M. There's brief mention of spice here, but nothing exceptionally graphic. Still, it's mentioned. Word Count: 1279 Prompt #33: Soft kisses while cuddling in bed. a/n: For Frankie's Wife. I hope you feel better soon. <3

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You can't sleep.

It's not that you haven't tried to sleep, because you have. You strategically put your phone on the other side of the room hours ago, sprayed your pillow with a lavender mist that was supposed to help you relax, made a cup of chamomile tea, and settled into your bed with a book to wind down for the evening. You did everything you were supposed to do, and yet hours later you're still tossing and turning beneath the down comforter that simultaneously leaves you too hot and too cold at the same time. With a huff, you turn once more to glance at the clock beside your bed, the only light you've allowed to permeate your space reading 1:58 a.m.

Five hours. 300 fucking minutes spent naming countries that start with each letter of the alphabet and counting metaphorical sheep in a last-ditch effort to get some rest.

At this point though you know there's no reason to continue frustrating yourself by staring at the dark depths of the ceiling above your head, so you flip on the TV, squinting as the light blinds you momentarily. It doesn't take you long to scroll through the channels, clicking the button repeatedly until you pass something familiar and hit the back button.

Minutes later you've retrieved your phone, Frankie's number dialed and the line ringing.

"Cariño?" Frankie questions, his voice rough. It cracks slightly as he continues, "are you okay?"

The guilt hits you instantly, the realization that normal people are actually asleep at two in the morning settling in and you quickly backtrack. "Shit, sorry. You were sleeping."

He clears his throat on the other end of the line, "No, no. It's fine. What's wrong?"

You're suddenly silent, and you can hear the quiet rustle of his bedsheets as he shifts his position. He likes to sleep on his stomach, usually draped over your torso with his face pressed into the valley between your breasts, but you'd be willing to be that he's on his back now, raking a hand through his mess of hair in an attempt to wake up for your benefit.

"I can't sleep," you finally blurt out, "and I turned on the TV and When Harry Met Sally is on and it just made me think of you and..."

"Hey, slow down for a second," he laughs, the sound of his voice ringing in your ear and immediately soothing you in a way the chamomile never can. There's a beat of silence and then suddenly you hear the soft hum of his own TV turning on. "What channel?"

A smile creeps across your face as you tell him, Meg Ryan's voice echoing through the phone and matching the way she's talking about Casablanca on your own screen. "You're not actually watching it, are you?"

"Figured it was better than that dream I had again where I'm making love and the Olympic judges are watching. I'd nailed the..."

"Frankie shut up," you giggle as he continues to repeat the line he's had memorized since the first time you made him watch the film. He has you in a laughing fit in seconds, restarting the line over in time with the movie when the scene plays soon after. You discuss your hunt for the perfect white sweater, talk about how Billy Crystal looks superior with a beard, and debate the legitimacy of how women actually sound, which mostly turns into Frankie reminding you about the way he made you scream last weekend when he had you pressed against the kitchen counter.

By the time New Year's Eve rolls around at the end of the movie, he's quoting line for line again, except he replaces each of Harry's examples with what he loves about you. That he loves how 80 degrees is too warm for you, and that you always check the menu and know what you're ordering eight hours before arriving at the restaurant. You're faintly aware of him reminding you about the way your eyes crinkle at the edges when he makes you smile and how he loves that you smell like lavender, even though you actually hate the scent and just won't admit it. When the channel starts to roll into Sleepless in Seattle, your eyes have drifted shut, letting the sound of your boyfriend narrating the movie lull you to sleep.

When you wake hours later, you're blinded by the sunlight shining through the curtains and directly onto your face, heating your skin. Your hazy mind struggles to remember if you added your weighted blanket to your bed the night before, only when you shift to block the sun you realize that you most definitely did not.

"Frankie?"

He groans softly, nestling his face further into the soft fabric of your t-shirt. "Still asleep," he mumbles, "someone kept me up all night."

You run your fingers through his hair, pushing the unruly curls back from his forehead. "I don't seem to remember you being in my bed when I fell asleep."

His gaze is warm when he shifts to rest his chin on your chest. "You fell asleep on me," he explains, "and then I couldn't sleep."

It's impossible not to laugh. "That still doesn't explain how you ended up in my bed, Francisco."

Frankie smirks as he presses kiss after kiss along your body until he's rolling on his back at your side, pulling you against him and guiding your lips to his gently. You sigh as you melt into him, lazily matching his rhythm.

"You still haven't answered my question," you remind him, your lips still brushing against his. He draws a smile to your face as he guides you back in, his hand leading your motions as he kisses you again.

"Maybe I just needed to be with you to fall back asleep," he explains once you've tucked your head into the crook of his neck. "Or maybe..." he continues slowly, his lips tracing along your forehead as he speaks, "maybe when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

It takes a moment, your mind turning his words over and over in his head until you start to realize that maybe he isn't just quoting Billy Crystal anymore. "Frankie?"

He hums, but you know he's grinning before you even pull back to see his expression. "Yes, love?"

It feels like your heart is going to pound out of your chest as you will yourself to ask the next question. "Are you just quoting the movie again?"

Your boyfriend seems to consider this for a moment before he shifts again, reaching over to the table on the side of the bed he's claimed as his own. You wait, moving to sit with your legs crossed as you watch him retrieve something from the drawer. He turns back to you, "I was going to do this differently, but..."

He doesn't get a chance to finish the sentence because you're on him immediately, hands cupping his cheeks and holding him as close as possible as you seal your lips to his. "Yes," you whisper, just a breath away when you both come up for air.

"I haven't even asked yet," Frankie laughs.

"Doesn't matter," you return, because it's the easiest answer you've ever given even without the question to precede it. "You don't need to ask me if I want to spend the rest of my life with you because you know you make it impossible to hate you. Which means," you kiss him again, "the answer will always be yes."

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[euesworld]

"Kiss me with your legs wrapped around me quite tightly, with a laugh dripping from your lips, gripping your thighs.. singing moans through an open mouth, going south on you nightly."

I love kissing you, kiss me with a pocket full of wishes.. sipping on your lips with those sweet ass kisses - eUë

[slhsawf]

What If We Kissed, 2024

Joseph Lorusso

[blabbershere]

In one kiss, you'll know all the words that have been left unsaid.

— Pablo Neruda

[inyourheartofhearts]

💋