#werewolf frankie

[something-tofightfor]

Liminality: Part 12

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 8,426

Rating: R - for violence, injury, blood, fear etc... but there's also feelings.

Summary: In the aftermath of your attack by the Chaos Wolf, you and Frankie have a long - and important - heart to heart.

And when you meet up with all of his friends to recount your story and begin to plan for what will happen next, you realize that what you plan for may not always be possible.

Author’s note:

Happy full moon + partial eclipse. Tonight is the best possible night to release this chapter, and I'm so glad it all lined up.

I'm so excited for you to read this chapter. I have been waiting a long time to get to this point. Thank you for being patient, and for sticking around. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Wanna talk about Wolf Frankie or his friends? My inbox is always open.

Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)

You both slept most of the day, and when you woke up later, there were multiple missed messages on his phone from his friends. He answered them while the two of you waited for dinner to be delivered, and it gave you a chance to check your phone, too. 

There was a text from Alec, and with some hesitation, you decided to tell him the truth about what happened. You sent him a voice note outlining the previous night, and by the time you finished it, Frankie’s attention was back on you, his mouth set in a deep frown as he listened. At least I only have to explain once. 

“Can I see the video?” His voice was even, but you heard the unease in it, Frankie’s posture rigid. “See what it looks like?” 

“Yes.” Scooting closer to him on the couch, you opened your camera and then the video, hanging your phone over. “But you need to watch the beginning, too. Before the wolf. It’s important.” 

He pressed play, eyes on the screen and at the sound of your own voice, you looked away, staring out the window. You had no desire to watch your attack, and even though it was the truth, you were somewhat embarrassed at the way you’d bared your feelings to him before the wolf had found you. So I’ll just let him watch and listen. 

You stared out the window until you heard yourself scream for Will, and then you looked back at Frankie, watching his reaction to what he was seeing onscreen. It was subtle, but you saw the way his body stiffened, watched the color of his eyes briefly change again, flashing gold for a few seconds as his nostrils flared, your screaming and the wolf’s growling louder than you thought it would be through your phone’s speakers. 

The sound of a gunshot rang out, and for the second time, you heard the wolf react to getting shot, followed by the sound of Will’s voice and yours, the video ending abruptly and plunging the room into silence. Frankie didn’t speak right away, but when he did, it was to whisper your name and then pull you into his lap, his arms going around you before pulling you tight against his chest.

“You’re so fucking brave, do you know that?” He spoke into your ear, the tip of his nose grazing the shell of it. “Most people would have dropped the phone. Most people would have been too afraid to fight back. Most people would have run screaming when they saw what I go through every month.” Frankie pressed his lips to your cheek. “You didn’t. You weren’t. You stayed. You got the other wolf on video. I don’t even know how to…” His arms tightened around you. “Tell me what you were going to say.”

“What?” It took you by surprise, and you backed away, meeting his gaze. “What do -”

“You got cut off when the wolf showed up.” He swallowed hard, unblinking. “That’s the second time you’ve been in the middle of saying something to me and you got interrupted.” You’re not really doing this now, are you? “D’you want to finish that sentence?” 

“I do, but...” Pressing a hand to his chest, you could feel his heartbeat thrumming beneath your palm, though the rest of him gave almost nothing away. He’s anxious. He’s … why? What does he expect? You stared at him, thinking, and wondered what he saw in your expression. I already told Pope. “I’m scared, Francisco.” You spoke quietly, but didn’t look away. “It -”

“I’ve read up on a lot of shit over the past couple years.” He cleared his throat, the hand on your back moving in a slow circle. “Just to try and see how similar my behavior is to a regular wolf’s. I’ve seen videos of myself while I’m not human, and I remember what happens, so…” He shrugged. “And it’s pretty typical for both.” You nodded, unsure of where he was going. “But the more time that passed, I started noticing that I was doing … different things, even when I’m human.” He frowned, but quickly erased the expression from his face though the furrow in his brow didn’t lessen any. “My sense of smell’s better. My vision’s improved, even though it was damn good before. My reflexes are back to what they were when I first joined the Army, or better, maybe.” 

“That’s good for a pilot.” He nodded, still stroking your back.

“I figured that since it’s always in me, the longer it was there and the more used to it I got, the more … we’d mesh.” His other hand moved down to your hip and squeezed. “I’ve always been protective of my family, but when I came back, the first time I saw Carmen? I’d never felt anything like that before. It was like … I can’t explain it. And I thought that the same would be true for Becca, because even though we had problems, I still … we’d been together forever, y’know? Mother of my kid and everything, but it wasn’t like that. Ever. I didn’t have the same … drive when it came to her as I did for Carmen and even the guys. Losing any of them would have been fucking awful, but my relationship with Becca? It sucked when it ended but I wasn’t…” 

“Frankie, you don’t -”

“No, I do. Let me explain.” He swallowed hard, and then took a deep breath. “I want to protect you. I’ve told you that before, but it …” He closed his eyes, swearing under his breath. “The first night I met you. Do you remember what happened?’

“Yeah. You fucked me in front of your fireplace and we both pretended it was going to just be a casual hookup.” He smiled, his eyes flashing with amusement. 

“I bit you.” His gaze dropped, lingering on your neck for a few seconds before it rose again. “I bit your neck.” He smiled. “Actually, I paid a lot of attention to your neck, and -” Just like he did last night when he turned. Was that the wolf’s interest in me from the very beginning? Fuck. “And I didn’t want to go into the bedroom with you, I -”

“You wanted me on the floor.” Your eyes widened. “And it didn’t feel right until you were behind me, and…” It was all coming together for you, and you were stunned. It shouldn’t have taken this long. I should have realized. “It was a wolf’s instincts from the beginning. And you’re… it’s just… fuck, Frankie.” 

“Some part of me knew from the beginning how I’d… how important you were going to be to me. It doesn’t make sense. None of this does.” He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “But if it’s the wolf and it’s making everything I already do and feel stronger, then…” He took another breath and let it out, the sound shaky. “I treated you like a mate from the very first night, and you reacted the way that I hoped you would, even if I didn’t realize I was doing it at first.”

“You scented me last night.” Your jaw dropped. “I thought you were trying to hug me, but when you put your paws on me, it was because …” You wanted me to smell like you. Oh, Frankie. 

“I asked you to stay.” His heartbeat had slowed and Frankie’s voice was steady, but you could feel his tension. “Everything else might be the wolf, but that was all -”

“No.” You leaned in, shaking your head. “It’s you, Frankie. The wolf, the man, all of it’s the same thing.” Are you really going to do this? “I don’t have friends. I don’t have people I can count on, except for Alec, and even that’s spotty.” Biting the inside of your lip, you narrowed your eyes. “But ever since I first got here, it felt different.” You’re going to do this. “I’ve never been as scared as I was last night. And yeah, I thought I was going to die for a second, but it was more than that.” 

“You didn’t, though. You did what you needed to do.” He squeezed your hip. “You were perfect.” 

“It’s too soon to say any of this, and I understand that.” You steadied yourself, closing your eyes and taking a breath . “But if I didn’t say it and I never got to, I’d regret it.” He hummed but didn’t interrupt, and so you continued, opening your eyes and meeting his. “I was scared I was going to die last night before I got to tell you I love you. I thought it days ago, but after last night, after seeing you in that clearing, I … I know it.” 

It felt good to say the words. Admitting to the truth was freeing, but Frankie’s silence unnerved you. He wasn’t expecting that. Why would he? It’s been two months. “Repeat that.” He wet his lips and then drew the lower one back and between his teeth. “Please.” 

“I love you, Francisco Morales. And believe it or not, I want to protect you just as much as -”

“The first time we met, when I sat next to you at the bar? I knew it was different.” He shook his head, looking down and then back up. “There was something about you, about the way you smelled, and because it was only a couple days after a full moon, it … there was no way I could miss it.”

“I missed it, though. I just thought you were shit at hiding being attracted to someone.” He laughed quietly, rolling his eyes. “We both tried pretty hard that night to play it cool, didn’t we.” Frankie nodded, the look in his eyes soft. “All I wanted to do that next morning was kiss you.” You looked down, nerves catching up to you as you registered the fact that he still hadn’t replied to the fact that you’d told him you loved him. “I just thought you should know. I -” 

He reached up and used one knuckle beneath your chin to urge you gaze back to his face. “You shouldn’t have stopped yourself the other night in bed.” Oh. really? “I didn’t think it was fair to put any of this shit on you before you saw everything, though, so I didn’t ask you about it.” He steadied himself with one deep breath, nodding as he said your name. “You still feel that way after yesterday? After … you got attacked?”

“Yes.” Your answer was immediate, eyes going wide as you spoke. “That had nothing to do with you, Frankie. Why would it change how I feel about you?”

“Because you know what one of us can do to someone. You’ve seen the way it changes me, and it’s not going to stop. This is my life for as long as I’m living, and if you love me, that means you accept that, and the chance that I might turn on you at some point.” 

“You won’t. If you were going to, you would have yesterday. I trust you.” He still hasn’t said anything back. All he’s done is try to talk me out of feeling this way. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, the look in his eyes sad. “It is, especially coming from you. You shouldn’t love me. You shouldn’t love someone like me, especially after you’ve been looking for wolves to -”

You stood abruptly, wincing as you put weight onto your leg - and distance between the two of you. “No, not just any wolves, Frankie. The Chaos wolves. You’re not one of them. You proved that.” You moved further away, your back to him to hide the fact that you were in pain. “And if you’ve been treating me like your mate since the beginning, you obviously would have noticed if I’d had any reservations about that, or about you or about being with you.” 

It hurt - not that he hadn’t immediately told you that he loved you, too, but that you’d bared your feelings to him, and all Frankie had done was question your admission. Especially after how he’s noticed he’s been treating me. Especially with what I thought he felt toward me. You stood in front of the fireplace, crossing your arms over your chest and blinking back tears.

The room was silent, thick with tension and almost uncomfortable, but moments later it was shattered by the ringing of the doorbell. Food’s here. Rubbing at the bridge of your nose, you lowered your head and closed your eyes. I’m not hungry. I should go. “Let me know what I owe you for dinner, Frankie. I think I’m going to go back to my -”

“Please don’t.” You heard the couch springs creak and then a few footsteps as he made his way to where you were, stopping before he got close enough to touch you. “Please don’t leave.” You turned slowly to face him, unsure of what to expect. 

It certainly wasn’t a look of unease on his face, or his lower lip trembling. And it also wasn’t his slumped shoulders or the nervous shuffling of his feet, Frankie shaking his head as he stared at you. “Why? I just bared my goddamn emotions to you, Frankie, and all I get in return is you telling me that I shouldn’t feel a certain way, or that I couldn’t possibly understand what I’m getting myself into with you. That’s what love is, right? Taking a chance and going into things unprepared and trusting yourself to navigate through it all with the person you’re with?”

“Yeah.” He nodded slowly. “But it’s not usually with someone like me.”

“Alec and Ashley seem to be perfectly happy together.” You swiped a hand over your face, the sadness turning into anger. “He was raised in the same damn way I was and he’s having a baby with a wolf. Fuck, Frankie, you’re not the only person in this world that -”

“We stole hundreds of millions of dollars from a drug lord.” He stepped even closer, straightening up. “So I’m also thinking of that when I consider how the fuck I feel about you, and how close it’s safe to let you get.” His lip curled, and Frankie’s head moved back and forth a few times. “It’s not just that I’m a wolf. I might also have a target on my back for a lot of other reasons, and bringing you into my life fully puts that on you, too.” 

You hadn’t considered that, and you knew that your expression gave it away. Fuck. He’s right. “Frankie, I -”

“I’m fucking in love with you, and every time I’ve thought about telling you that these past couple weeks, I’ve convinced myself not to for multiple reasons. And hearing you say it first, I … fuck.” You gasped, a shaky breath escaping you, and when Frankie took another step forward, you nodded, tears filling your eyes. “I wasn’t looking for this. I’m not ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready, but you’re right. It doesn’t matter. You need to know. You deserve to know.” 

“You’re in love with me?” He nodded, one large hand rising so that he could slide his fingers along your jaw, his thumb catching briefly on your lower lip. “Really?” He nodded again, unblinking. “Well that’s good to hear.” 

Silence hung between you for a few tense seconds and then he laughed, his other arm going around you. He took the final step and closed the distance completely, crushing you to his chest without forcing you to take a step on your injured leg. Your tears started falling when he lowered his head to speak into your ear, murmuring that he didn’t know what to fucking do with you, but you were too overwhelmed to speak. He’s in love with me. He’s in love with me but was scared to tell me because of everything he’s been through and done and … fuck. I shouldn’t have pushed. I shouldn’t have forced him to… “Hey.” 

“Yeah?” You backed off, meeting his gaze again. “Hmm?” 

“That’s not how I wanted to tell you any of this.” Frankie used one knuckle to brush tears from your cheeks. “I’m not happy I’m a wolf now, but I’ve made peace with it, y’know? I just sort of figured that I’d never really have anyone permanent in my life again, and then you …” He swore quietly, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “You showed up and just …” 

You understood immediately, Frankie’s desire to protect you winning out over his emotional detachment. And he doesn’t know what to be more worried about, the drug money or the wolf, which is …God, I can’t even imagine what he must be thinking. “We can start over.” Your voice low, you tightened your hold on him, fingers gripping the material of his shirt. “This conversation anyway. Start at the beginning, and -”

“I’m in love with you. I want you to stay here, in Florida with me. I want to find this wolf and get rid of it and then figure out what comes next, but …” Frankie took a deep breath, nodding. “I want to be with you. There’s so much shit I still need to tell you, that I want to tell you.” He paused, wetting his lips with a flash of his tongue. “If you’ll let me.” 

“I will.” Your heart was pounding in your chest, eyes locked with his. “If you’re honest with me, I’m more than happy to listen to whatever you’ve got to say.” Here goes nothing. “That’s what happens when you love someone, right?” He nodded slowly, never looking away from you. “Then yeah, Francisco. We’ll do that.” 

“Good.” He bit down on the inside of his lip, narrowing his eyes. “Do you actually want to go, or were you just trying to bow out because you thought I wasn’t going to say anything back to you?”

“I don’t want to go anywhere.” You looked up, eyes on the ceiling for a few seconds as you thought. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome, but the idea of being alone right now isn’t appealing, either.” 

He didn’t say anything right away, instead leaning in and kissing your forehead, his lips lingering. “Why don’t we eat dinner, and then we can decide what to do next, alright?” Frankie spoke quietly, sighing as he straightened up. “We’ve got a month to figure this shit out.” 

— 

“Frankie, we’re going to have to get out of this bed at some point.” You sighed, reaching down to drag your fingers through his damp curls. “We have plans tonight.” He was wrapped around you, cheek resting against your chest. “And to be honest, I need a couple hours of rest, because -”

“You weren’t complaining earlier.” Tightening his hold on you, he tipped his head back so that he could catch your eye. “Or this morning, or -” He wasn’t wrong. Since you’d admitted the truth to each other the night after the full moon, the two of you had barely been able to keep your hands off of each other when you were in the same room. 

You’d lost count of the number of times you’d been together, the hours slipping away as you spent them tangled up in his bed and shower. It was like a barrier had been broken down completely, freeing you to not only act on your true feelings, but to stop hiding them, too. He whispered that he loved you over and over between kisses, and hearing his voice repeat it at full volume before he left for work and when he got home in reply to your greeting made you feel at peace in a way that you’d never anticipated. 

But the truth was that you were tired, despite getting good sleep, and you knew that he was, too. “I’m still not complaining.” You sighed, pulling on a curl. “But we need to go and meet your friends, and I’d like to be alert for that conversation.” He laughed, finally letting go of you and sitting up to stretch. “Is this how it’s going to be every month after the moon? Because if it is, I might need to take some extra vitamins, or buy stock in electrolytes or -” 

“Might be.” He wrinkled his nose, reaching up to ruffle his own hair. “Donno yet.” He was joking, and the two of you laughed together, Frankie leaning down to kiss you softly on the mouth. “It’s just nice not to have to hide anything, and I know that when we go over there, it won’t be like that.” 

You sat up, too, leaning against his headboard and pulling the blankets up to cover your chest. “I get it.” You shrugged, nodding. “But I do think it’s for the best.” 

The two of you were meeting his friends for the first time since your attack to fill them in on all the details. You were going to be honest with them about everything - except for why you were in Florida. While in truth, it would only be Benny and Tom that didn’t know the whole story, widening the circle of trust even that much further seemed risky. It wasn’t because Frankie didn’t trust the two of them; instead, it was because he didn’t want to make you explain your entire family’s history, or bring Ashley and Alec into it without their permission. 

Will’s knowledge of the situation had been the result of circumstance, and though you were glad that he knew, part of you wished that you hadn’t slipped up in front of him. Because it feels like too many people know, and nothing’s changed as a result. “I’m gonna jump in the shower.” He stood up, giving you a lengthy opportunity to stare at his bare ass, and then headed for the bathroom. “You wanna come with me and conserve some water?” 

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” You grinned and got out of the bed, too. “Saving the environment?”

“It can be.” He waited at the door for you, reaching back so that you co uld take his hand. “Just for tonight.” Both of you were laughing as you entered the bathroom, Frankie flipping the lightswitch up before you shut the door behind you. 

— 

“Where’s Molly?” You looked out the window at Tom’s place, eyeing the well-kept lawn and pristine house. “You guys don’t come over here to meet up often, right?”

“She’s gone for a couple days with her friends, I think?” He pulled up to the curb, parking his truck. “And Tessa’s in college now, so she only comes home on weekends to do her laundry.” He laughed. “They moved her into her dorm a little while ago.” You hadn’t realized that - but you were thankful that there was a place that all of you could talk without interruptions. Not that Yovanna is an interruption, but … “And he’s always looking for an excuse to use his grill, so it worked out.” 

You made your way to the gate that led to the back yard, Frankie walking slower than usual to accommodate your injury. It felt much better, and he’d re-bandaged it for you twice, checking on the state of it and reporting back to Will, but it still hurt, and there was no reason to push it. 

The others were already there when you rounded the garage and made it to the back lawn, and you and Frankie were greeted with a chorus of hellos, Benny lifting his beer bottle in salute. But the smile on his face froze when he got a good look at you, his gaze going immediately to your bandaged leg. Here we go. 

“What the fuck happened to you?” He frowned, looking at Frankie. “‘Fish? Wh-”

“That’s her story to tell.” He pulled your chair out for you, waiting until you were seated to drop into the one next to it. “Figured it’d be better to do it in person.” You gave Benny a smile and then looked in Pope’s direction, nodding before letting your eyes move to Will and finally to Tom, who was standing next to the grill with one hand on his hip. He looked curious, holding your gaze for longer than he usually did before shaking his head and clearing his throat. 

“Well we’re all here and in person.” He stepped toward you. “And we’re listening.” You felt Frankie’s hand on your knee, the pressure welcome as he squeezed it. “What happened to you?” There was no way to sugarcoat it, and no real reason to, and so you didn’t, opening your mouth and letting the words tumble out. 

“I got attacked by the other wolf in the clearing outside the RV.” It sounded impossible, even by your standards, and that feeling only grew when you continued. “It didn’t bite me, though. It just clawed at me, and then Will shot it, and -” 

“WHAT?” Benny was on his feet, fingers balled into fists by his sides. “You what? My brother did what? And we’re just now hearing about -”

“Benjamin.” Frankie’s voice was quiet, but you heard the power behind it. “Calm down.” The younger Miller stilled, though his expression didn’t soften. “Nobody said anything because we wanted to tell the story once. And we took a few days to recover, but none of the three of us thought that a phone call or a text message was the right way to talk about this.” 

Benny finally nodded before dropping back into his chair, his gaze focused on your injury. It was Pope that spoke up next, reaching across the table to touch your hand before saying anything. “Are you alright?”

“I am. It was a little scary for a couple minutes, but as soon as Will scared it off, it was … better.” He nodded, leaning back. “No, you know what?” You closed your eyes, steeling yourself before you pressed your lips together and nodded. “It was really fucking scary for a few minutes. I thought … I didn’t think I was going to make it.” 

“But you did.” Tom crossed his arms low across his chest, tilting his head to the right. “It didn’t try to bite you? Really?”

“Really.” Flattening your hands on the tabletop, you looked between the four other guys again, taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “If you come and sit I’ll tell you all exactly what happened.” For a second, you didn’t think he’d join you - but then Tom crossed the patio and pulled out his own chair, dropping into it without looking away. 

It took a little while because they all interrupted you, but with Will and Frankie’s help, you recounted the events from the night you’d been attacked. And when you pulled your phone out, opening the cropped video and pressing play, they were all locked in, eyes on the tiny screen throughout the duration of it. It played once for all of them, and then each man took your phone in turn, the device held up close to their faces as they analyzed the other wolf’s attack. Benny’s response was anger, his lip curling while his head whipped back and forth. Pope just seemed sad, his large brown eyes filled with emotion as he winced at the sound of your screams. Will’s expression was full of intrigue, his brows knit as he used both fingers to zoom in on your screen toward the end, mumbling the words I should have aimed higher before he handed it to Tom. 

And Tom’s response shocked you most of all, his posture rigid as he stared at the screen, teeth digging into his lower lip. When he set your phone down and slid it toward you, he finally spoke, leaning in to lock eyes with you. “Don’t take this the wrong way, because it’s a good thing, but why the fuck didn’t it bite you?” 

Frankie growled from next to you, but you murmured his name, head moving slowly back and forth. “I don’t know. I’ve tried to figure that out for the last couple days, and all I’ve come up with is that maybe it didn’t want to? I don’t think it wanted to turn me the way the kid that bit Frankie did, I think it just … wanted to hurt me.” Lowering your eyes to where your fingers were linked on the scarred wood, you took a deep breath. “And it did. But not like it… he has hurt the other people he’s attacked.” The guys all nodded in agreement, but none of them spoke before you went on. “At least now you all know what it looks like. You know for a fact that it’s not Frankie attacking anyone. I don’t know what good that will do, but -”

“How did it know you’d be there?” Tom’s voice was soft, the the fingers of one hand rhythmically tapping the table. “That RV isn’t even in a real camping spot, we had to bribe them to approve the space for it.” He rubbed at his forehead. “It doesn’t make any fucking sense.” 

“It does.” Frankie spoke up, leaning forward so that he could look at Tom. “Based on the pattern.” He explained your theory about the other wolf working his way through local parks that had campsites, explaining that Richloam was one of the final ones in the area that hadn’t been an attack site in the past. “And I can smell people from miles away those nights, so he probably smelled all of us, maybe even me as a wolf, and came running.” 

Tom looked thoughtful, his attention moving between you and Frankie for long moments before he swiped a hand over his face. “Fuck.” 

“So what do we do now?” Pope leaned back in his chair, exhaling. “Frankie, you said there was a pattern to the places the other wolf’s been attacking? Do you think we can use that to figure out where he’ll be next month?”

“Maybe.” Frankie leaned in, nodding. “There were only two or three that were left that are similar to the ones he’s already been to, but Richloam was the most likely. I just didn’t think … I didn’t think our campsite would be where he went first.” Frankie looked over at you, wetting his lips and then lowering his gaze to the tabletop. “He’s either going to branch out and find places further away, or start the pattern again.” He looked up, meeting the eyes of each of his friends in turn. “It’s what I’d do.” 

“Makes sense.” Will agreed, scratching the side of his head. “To someone that’s not looking for a wolf, the attacks seem like random animals, and I’m sure at least a couple of the parks and swamps have had others since the first one we noticed that are just shit like big cats and things fucking with campsites.” You hadn’t looked into that, and made a mental note to do so when you got back to Frankie’s. I should have already thought of it. 

“But what the fuck do we do about it? One of us goes out to each of the most likely places, while ‘Fish picks one of us to come with?” Benny pointed at you, shaking his head. “Do we let you go out by yourself, or always pair you with Frankie because if this fuckin’ thing got your scent, he might be looking? Do we all stay at the camper every full moon so there’s five of us with guns and -”

“I can’t exactly leave my wife once a month on every full fuckin’ moon, Benny.” Tom gestured toward the house, his tone harsh. “She’s not dumb. She’d ask questions, and unlike Morales, I don’t exactly want to tell her wh-”

“Guys.” Will stood, holding his hands out. “Look, we don’t need to decide anything tonight. We know what happened. We know that we need to come up with something before the next full moon. When is that, by the way?” 

“October 28th.” You were the first to answer, certainty in your tone. “The Hunter’s Moon.” You reached for your phone and pulled it back toward you, fingers curling around the device. “And I have every intention of being a part of this plan - whatever it is, because the sooner we deal with this, the sooner Frankie and I can …” 

You trailed off, realizing that you’d just admitted to the fact that you and Frankie were considering a future together. Shit. Did he want that? Did - “The sooner we figure all of this out, the sooner we can figure out how her staying here works.” He reached over and put his hand on top of yours, slowly looking between each of the others. “Because that’s what’s happening. We’re -”

“Hell yeah, brother!” Benny jumped up and circled the table, first clapping Frankie on the shoulder before he put him in a loose headlock, the two of them laughing. When he let go, he moved to you, winding his arms around you from behind and ducking down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “And good for you too. There are plenty of worse guys out there than ‘Fish.”

It made you laugh - Benny lightening the mood significantly, and when you tipped your head back so that you could plant a kiss on his cheek, he grinned and winked before he backed away. “He’s alright.” That made the others laugh, too, and when Pope stood to go and get another drink, the conversation around the table resumed. 

You settled in, Frankie by your side with an arm around your shoulders as all of you caught up with each other. For the next hour, everything was normal, and when Tom stood to preheat the grill, you also pushed away from the table, excusing yourself to use the bathroom. 

“I’ll come with you.” Tom pointed at the grill. “This is ready, so I need to get dinner out of the fridge anyway.” 

There was a small bathroom off of the kitchen, which was bright and cheerful with lots of natural light and greenery. Molly, I’m sure. He was still inside when you finished, and when Tom turned in your direction, holding out a tray of skewered vegetables, you took them happily. “I’ll be honest. I never pictured you as a grill guy, Tom.” 

“Oh yeah?” He grinned at you and you nodded, eyes on him as he picked up a tray of hamburgers and hotdogs. “What did you think I was?” He gestured to the bags of buns before he grabbed a basket full of cutlery and condiments, and then the two of you headed back for the door. He pushed the screen to the side, waiting for you to walk through. 

“I don’t know. I just figured with as much time you spent enlisted, you never had time to learn to cook.” You jerked your chin forward. “Or grill.” He spoke as he followed you, his tone amused. 

“Molly’s the cook. And I’m decent with grilling, but I like it.” You set what you carried down and then turned to reach for the condiments, Tom reaching forward to hand them to you. You caught the wince he tried to hide - slight but still noticeable, his jaw tightening briefly before it relaxed and he spoke again. What did they say happened? Tess and volleyball? “And these assholes will eat just about anything, so as long as I don’t turn their burgers into fucking hockey pucks, it’s fine.” 

Benny snorted but agreed, and even Will nodded briefly, though there was an expression on his face you couldn’t read. You sat down next to Frankie again, and without hesitation he reached over and took your hand, squeezing after linking your fingers together. Ask later. “I’m also not a fan of eating hockey pucks, so…” Tom held up both hands after setting the meat down, muttering the word understood, and then pulled the top of the grill open. 

The conversation continued around you, and as the smell of cooking meat and vegetables filled the air, you fully relaxed. The weather was nice, the company was even nicer, and the fact that everyone was 90% on the same page was a relief. 

“Hey.” Frankie’s voice was quiet in your ear as he leaned in closer, his lips curved upward in a tiny smile. “Ironhead and I are going in to get another round of drinks. You need one?” You did - and told him as much, eyeing the two men as they stood from the table and left you, Pope, Benny and Tom in the back yard. 

When Benny stood to walk over to Tom, you turned your attention to Pope, beginning a conversation about him and Yovanna, and what they’d been up to. He answered enthusiastically, his face lightning up as he spoke, and you were so engrossed in what he was saying that you almost missed Frankie and Will coming back, setting down bottles and cans in front of where everyone was sitting. 

Dinner was ready only a few minutes later, and while you ate, there was none of the lingering tension from the beginning of the conversation, or even any of the uncertainty that you’d seen on Will’s face. You chalked it up as just a product of the situation you’d all found yourselves in, and once again let your guard down. 

It was stupid not to; you were surrounded by a retired Delta Force team and the full moon was weeks away. Nothing was going to happen to you in Tom’s back yard, and even the dull itch of your healing leg wasn’t enough to deter you from that line of thinking. 

As the night went on and dinner was cleared from the table, the six of you moved from the patio and into the yard, sitting in a circle around a small fire pit. You knew that you and Frankie would have to leave earlier than everyone else - he had flights the following morning, and needed to sleep - but the truth was that you didn’t want to leave. 

You’d been to gatherings before, though none of them had been with actual friends. You’d attended bonfires and parties, scoring invites from people you’d met in previous cities in an attempt to strike up conversations with people as they drank or smoked more and let their guard down. But you’d never been to a night like the one that night, and even though you enjoyed yourself, it was also a reminder that no matter how close you got with Frankie and the others, they had true history together, something that you’d never had the opportunity to experience. 

“You alright?” Frankie leaned over, ducking his head to kiss your shoulder. “You’re quiet.” 

“I’m just glad to be here.” You gestured with your bottle, indicating his friends. “It’s a nice change of pace from my usual routine.” You could see that he understood, and while the two of you stared at each other, the firelight flickering in his eyes, you also understood how much the time with his friends in a casual setting meant. “We should probably go soon, though, right?” Chewing on your lip, you took a deep breath. “You’ve got a 10 am, right?” 

“Right.” He leaned back in his chair, stretching. “And that alarm goes off early.” Frankie groaned, reaching up to pull his hat off before using the back of his hand to rub at his eye. “We’re gonna get going.” The other conversation stopped, everyone’s attention going back to you. “We should probably figure out what we’re doing about next month pretty soon, just so we’re all on the same page.”

“Think it’s my turn to head out with you, ‘Fish.” Benny cleared his throat. “But I’m not opposed to turning it into an all play, just to cover our asses.” 

“Might be a good idea.” Pope sighed, rubbing at the space between his eyes. “I think it’s gonna come back and try to see if we’re back at the RV. It had to have smelled wolf-you, Frankie. It might even go back there as a human to scope it out, so -”

“I can head out there in the next couple days.” Tom leaned forward, the hand holding his beer dangling between his knees. “See if everything looks right. Check on the blind, replenish the first aid kit, all that.” Frankie nodded from next to you, and you opened your mouth to speak, but Will beat you to it. 

“Will you be able to get away with us next month, Redfly?” He sipped from his beer, gesturing to the rest of you with it. “Strength in numbers and all that shit?”

“No.” Tom shook his head, staring at the blonde. “There’s a realtor’s conference in Orlando that goes all weekend. Didn’t get to go to the one in August, so I thought this one was a good backup.” He cleared his throat. “I can do whatever you need me to until that Wednesday night, but I won’t be home for the full moon.” 

“Alright.” Will agreed, shrugging. “We’ll do it without you, then.” You could hear the annoyance in his tone, but everyone else ignored it - and so you did, too… at least outwardly. It’s bullshit that Tom hasn’t helped the same ways that the others do. You stood, reaching behind you to move the chair out of the way so that you could head for the fence gate. It seems like he’s just making excuses, and that’s… it’s fucking bullshit. 

It wasn’t your place to say anything, and even though part of you hoped that one of the others would, you didn’t know how likely it was. “Thanks for dinner, Redfly. See you around.” Frankie moved to stand next to you, extending the goodbyes to the rest of his friends. “Let me know what you find at the RV, alright?”

“Sure.” Tom stood, too, sticking one hand in his pocket and jerking his chin at you. “Take care of that leg, alright?” You assured him that you would, and then you started walking again, Frankie’s hand reaching over to take your bottle from you. He dropped them into the trash can next to the back door before you made it to the side of the house, and then he linked his fingers with yours, squeezing. 

“Do you want to go to the car? I need to use the bathroom.” You stopped, turning your head toward where he stood. “Or you can come inside with me, and we’ll go out the front.” 

“That.” You nodded. “Sitting in the car alone feels weird.” He grinned and then changed course, heading for the sliding door. You followed him, moving to lean against the dividing wall between the kitchen and the front hall. The lights were dimmed, but you used the time to look around the room, taking in the details. 

It was cozy and looked lived in in a way that Frankie’s house didn’t. Molly’s influence was all over the decor, and there were fresh flowers in vases scattered around the room, too. I bet Tom doesn’t give a shit about artwork or tile style or - 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of breaking glass, and instinctively, you perked up, craning your neck toward the door leading outside. There was some commotion and then the sound of voices as they got closer to the screen door, and only a few seconds later, you watched as Tom entered, his face set into an angry scowl and one hand curled into a tight fist. “You alright? I -”

“Ironhead dropped a bottle.” He went toward the sink, using his other hand to turn the tap on. “Sliced my fucking finger open helping him pick up glass.” You winced in sympathy for him, watching as he unclenched his fist and stuck his flattened palm under the water, shoulders rising and falling as he rinsed the wound. 

A few seconds later, the bathroom door opened and your attention moved to Frankie, watching as he stepped back into the kitchen, wiping his hands on his jeans. He inhaled sharply and then paused, but he veered past Tom to get back to you, sliding an arm around your waist to pull you closer. Why is he so rigid? What is going on? “You cut yourself, Redfly?”

“Beer bottle. It’s fine.” He groaned and turned the water off, reaching for a paper towel. “Ironhead already offered to stitch me up if I need it.” You laughed quietly, but Frankie didn’t, instead pulling gently on you and leading you toward the door. “Have a good night, you two. Get home safe.” 

The further you got from the kitchen, the tighter Frankie’s hold on you became. And when you were finally inside the truck, he raised both hands to the wheel, gripping it tightly enough that you heard it creak. Ok, what the fuck. “Frankie? What’s -”

“I should have fucking seen it.” He nearly growled the words, squeezing the wheel one more time before letting go and starting the truck’s ignition. “I should have fucking known. It’s been right there, in front of my goddamn face.” What? What is … His hands were shaking as he put it into drive, and even in the low light from the streetlamps, you could see that he was breathing hard. Something happened, but what? 

“Frankie, you’re scaring me.” It was the truth. You hadn’t actually felt fear around him in the entire time you’d known him up to that point. “You were fine before you went into the bathroom, and then Tom -”

“FUCK!” He reached up, pulling his hat off and flinging it at the windshield, the truck jerking to a stop at the end of the block. “I can’t fucking believe that he … goddamn him. He’s lucky I didn’t fucking …” The truck started moving again as Frankie’s head whipped back and forth, the shadows sliding over his features as you headed away from the Davis residence. What the fuck is going on with him right now?  

“Frankie?” Your heart was pounding, and even though you were afraid, you knew that he wouldn’t hurt you. Not with the way that he got me out of that house. Not with the way he got me away from … “Tom.” 

The pieces fell into place in an instant, even though you didn’t know the details. Tom’s the other wolf. Somehow, he figured it out tonight, but what would have … “Take your phone out.” He was still angry, but there was a calm to the way he spoke, and you realized that Frankie had slipped into whatever mindset he’d used to get through each mission he’d been on. He’s in survival mode. And that means he really believes this is true. “Ironhead’s going to call you as soon as he gets into his car because he knows I’m driving.” 

You wanted to reach for him, but instead you did as he told you, digging your phone out and holding it - screen up - in one hand between you. “Where are we going?”

“Back to my place.” He was still holding the wheel with both hands, eyes on the road. “Because if we don’t go there, and he checks, he’ll know.” Before you could reply, your screen lit up, Will’s name and picture on it. “Speaker, please.” 

You answered, saying hello, but you didn’t get a chance to say anything else because Will’s voice filled the cab of the truck, his tone just as calm as Frankie’s. “Well?”

“It’s fucking him. I don’t know how, but it is.” He let out a shaky breath. “Good call on the glass, by the way. I can’t believe it worked.” He smelled the blood. He smelled it the other day, and then again today. 

“Are you sure?” He wasn’t outright questioning Frankie; he was confirming. “Because -”

“I smelled his blood all over that goddamn clearing, and even though my nose isn’t as good right now, I’d know it anywhere.” You covered your mouth with your other hand, turning your head to look out your window. “Tom is the other wolf, Will. He’s been hurting people for months, and he just tried to kill my girl a few days ago. I’m fucking sure.” 

There was a long silence as you and Frankie drove through the darkness, and your fingers tightened around your phone as you waited to see who would break it. You didn’t have long to wait. Before you and Frankie made it through another light, Will’s voice came though the speaker again - just as calm, but with a note of resolve in it. 

“I guess we’ve got to decide how you want to handle it then, don’t we ‘Fish?” 

The cab of the truck was silent for a few seconds longer, and then you watched as Frankie eased his grip on the wheel with his right hand. Tom? It’s Tom? He tried to … “Can you come to my place, Ironhead?” But you said he might check. How… how will this work? “This isn’t a conversation I want to have over the phone.” 

Frankie reached over, settling a hand on your thigh and moving his thumb against it in a slow, possessive arc. His touch was gentle, though, despite the rigidity of every other part of his body. “Yeah. Let me go home and get the bike. I’ll be there in thirty.” 

You hung up then, setting your phone down into one of the cupholders - but you stayed quiet. What is there to say? With both hands free, you moved to clasp them together in your lap, but Frankie didn’t let you, intercepting the movement and capturing one hand with his and bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“I meant it, by the way.” His voice was low but even, and when you turned your head toward him, Frankie’s gaze slid to the right and caught yours. It didn’t surprise you that his irises were golden, and you realized in those few moments just how hard he was fighting to hold himself together. 

 You didn’t pull away - and you didn’t flinch, either. “Meant what, Francisco?” He kissed your hand again and then lowered your hands to rest against his thigh, his grip tightening. 

“I’m going to rip his fucking throat out.” 

—

[chaoticgeminate]

HI YES HELLO I AM LOSING MY MIND OVER THESE TAGS

AAAAAAAAAA

"Come here, Nerys."

In response to the command a bark of defiance sounded from the pool, making you giggle behind your hand as Adelia sat beside you in the lounger with Oscar in her arms. The pair of werewolves had put you on bed rest following the birth of the twins, your mate and his daughter -and his pack- tending to nearly everything so you could recover.

It had been pretty damn traumatic, and you were still going through therapy because post partum depression was an ugly reality, but you had the support you needed to keep going and that was what mattered.

"Just pick her up, it's a kiddie pool."

"That's her territory, amor, I won't enter it without her express permission. Just like the big pool is yours. Werewolf thing."

"I'll get her then."

"You will not, I can do this, she needs to learn pack hierarchy."

"I don't take my seal skin off for three weeks, Frankie, my mother had to Change to feed me."

His brows shot up at the mention, it wasn't often you discussed your parents and even less after everything that happened once you'd learned your own history. But you knew it was important since this was your daughter, and he had no idea how to raise a selkie.

"Nerys, mija, come here please."

Another bark and the sound of claws scraping at plastic made you roll your eyes skyward, it was honestly just too cute. But you got up anyway, walking over to the pool, and crouched down beside your mate.

Your little one was rolling around the dry portion of the pool, trying to get to one of her toys, and her big eyes honed in on you the moment you waved.

"Nerys, do you want to swim with Mama?"

You extended your hands and smiled as she scrambled to come closer, the kiddie pool was shallow and barely let her swim properly per Frankie's paranoia. But she was a selkie, your little one, and you knew she could handle the pool.

Frankie shot you a jealous look but you knew that Nerys would bond with you more, just like Oscar would bond with his papa and half sister more since he was a werewolf. Frankie kissed your cheek and took your place on the lounger but his eyes were alert, trained on you and Nerys.

Your little pack was going to be fine.

[yandere-wishes]

𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 ℍ𝕚𝕘𝕙

❤️‍🩹Characters: Yandere! MH Ghouls x GN! Reader

❤️‍🩹Summary: There's something ancient within you. Lost and forgotten. You're an eldritch creature living amongst monsters. A piece of you lives within each of them. And a piece of each of them lives inside you...

❤️‍🩹Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsessive tendencies, Body horror in Frankie's part, slight gore and blood in the rest, angst, super cryptic.

❤️‍🩹Could be read as romantic or platonic.

I am a monster, for now and forever. I am a monster, what a terrible being.〜♡॰ॱ

There's something ancient within you. Lost and forgotten. ~❣✧❣

⚡︎Frankie Stein ⚡︎

There's something ancient within you. Lost and forgotten. Frankie is desperate to unravel it. To crack it open. She feels you in every one of her limbs. Feels you in the stems of her patchwork heart. That has to account for something right? 

Your melancholy seeps through you, tainting the tiles in shades of gold. 

Frankie blames the binding of your skin, she's always found it too loose. 

Nothing extramundane, to tether your essence within yourself. She wouldn't mind taking you apart and stitching you back together. Recreating you into something perfect. She's grown wry of watching you crack your ribcage open, shoving astral celestials where your heart should be. You mutter things, things she doesn't understand, things she's scared she'll never understand. Her bones rattle, a rouge spark runs down her spine. Every piece of you haunts her...

Frankie use to believe, verily childishly, that parts of her were salvaged from you. She knows now that that's impossible, yet she still wishes every night for the childish dream to come true.

In many ways, Frankie has always been bound to you. Your first friend, your first confidant, your first punishment, your first comprehension. Even when you'd been too young to understand the cacophony of the world, you'd still know the two of you were connected. 

It had only taken a lifetime to understand why. 

Bones collapse into constellations. Somehow she feels you slipping away. Her slender fingers trace the stitches across the hollow of your chest. A meteoric reminder of her work. "It's okay I'll have you fixed in no time." Frankie doubts you find any truth in her incentive. You've always been drawn to pessimism. Still, she feeds the needle through skin and muscle. Praying she remembers the stronghold pattern her mother taught her. 

The shade they used for your blood is too bright. You bleed in rivers, 

flowing with no end insight. You wash away her sorrows with farfetched promises. Awakening a longing, she never knew she had. 

Frankie wishes she could pluck out your spine. Kiss each vertebra like an iridescent pear. Maybe then your souls would tether, maybe then everything will go back to the way it once was. The needle snags across bones, marring your skin in star-kissed bruises. She pecks each one, muttering a sorry across cold flesh. You feel like home under her lips. A home she never got to know. 

Yet the echoes of its brilliance linger faintly in the hearts of those who once knew its warmth.

Frankie smiles as your eyes crack open. Dizzy and distant, you've yet to notice your enhancements. The pieces of herself she tethered onto you. She wonders when you'll notice the new eye, the new leg, the mismatched fingers. Her heart sparks thumbing loudly in her ribcage. 

She sinks down, by the operation table,skinning her knees. You feel like home, now more than ever. 

Your fingers find her head, patting the matted hair, she smiles something solemn and forlorn. She trails her fingers over one of the stitches on your arm, prying her slender digits between the threads and into the gaping tissue. Her fingers release a spark, your body arches off the table. After all, blood has always been a good conductor for electricity. "It's just a power boost. You'll be right up in a few minutes." a giggle rips from her throat, as you mummble an acknowledgment. Eyes overcast with equal parts grief and glee. 

She always knew she loved you how could she not? You'd been linked to her for as long as she had a conscience. You had always been her everything. Sometimes she wonders how you both ended up like this. Stitching pieces of yourselves into each other. 

Frankie closes her eyes. Her mind struggling to regain control. Her deep breaths waver as she hears shifting from the table. 

"It's alive..."

𓆩❤︎𓆪Draculaura𓆩❤︎𓆪

Draculaura can smell the ethereal ichor now. Maybe it's always been there. Hidden under bygone layers and golden sand. She wonders if now, knowing what you know, makes you see her as anything less. You're older now, smarter. Maybe you understand the world just a little bit better than she ever could. 

Despite her gifted immortality, Draculaura likes to think that she's grown, too. No longer the little batling who faints at the mere scent of blood. Yet the urge to vomit is still there, an acidic reflex in the back of her throat. She's been avoiding you lately, simply because you make the urges go away. 

She can't live with that.

Can't live with what you make her. 

You trace the heart on her cheek. Your fingers feel like divinity sinking into her skin. You try to reason with her, tell her the truths of the crypt. "Surly Draculaura, you must know who you really are. Isn't it silly that you persist in this nativity?" Your words are harsh. Good intentions wrapped in silver blades. She bites her tongue, killing the queries before they dare spill. 

You make her crave things. 

Things she's avoided her whole life.

There's blood on your lips, dripping onto the ground. She fights the urge to kiss you. The heat of the sun amplifies the scent of the decaying flesh. Her stomach growls, this isn't right. The grip on her parasol tigtens. There is justice behind your actions, not one she can make herself understand. She watches as you tear into the decomposing body. "Don't", it's nothing less of a prayer. She feels her fangs elongate. How she wishes the world would turn to black.

Can a vampire be haunted? 

Surly they can, it's the only answer to your staunch lingering. 

Draculaura's coffin feels too snug, like a home and a prison encapsulated in one. She wishes she could feel cold dirt under her nails, feel the thrill of digging her way out of a grave. It's your fault, it has to be. Why must you awaken such ancient sensations? Such horrid cravings, such primal needs. 

Why must she see divinity in your face, liquid darkness shimmering behind enigmatic eyes? You are something terrifying, something painful. You are what she was supposed to be, what she's fled from her whole life.  

Your silhouette is a curse and a blessing. A reminder of a lineage she was thrusted into. A legacy she never wanted. Everything about you is a hunting familiarity for a family she never knew. She wonders if she would have been the prettiest girl in the morgue. She wonders if her father should have let her die all those eons ago.

 "I used to be human" She confesses one night. She doesn't know why you agreed to come over. Why seeing you in your pajamas sparks one too many fond memories.

"So?" your tone is one of perplexity. She feels foolish under your gaze. You glide the makeup brush across her cheeks. dusting them with faded nostalgia. "I can't eat them. It'll feel like I'm eating myself" How long has it been since the transformation occurred? how long has it been since she shedded the body of that sickly fragile girl? She's been a vampire for centuries yet still can't get used to the title. 

"You can eat these ones..." Something ancient within her stirs, her bones rattle with comprehension. She knows what you mean and it fills her with a need to scream. 

Draculaura can't see her reflection, can't gauge how different she is now. You used to help her with her makeup back in high school. Back when the shade of your lipstick determined your personality for the day. She's never seen her face. She prays it's identical to yours. She prays that someday she can embody you...

There's a deathly hunger within her. Bubbling in her stomach. She needs to let it out before it kills her. Can she even die? She's almost sure she wants to. You almost make her want to succumb to the impulse of quitting her humanity all toghter. Your presence makes her all so hungry. She's gotten better at hiding it under school-ghoul gossip and trend talk. 

She settles for a kiss tonight, a rushed peck on the cheek. Some vampire she is, instead of bleeding you dry she's pouring her sorrows into you. She wonders if you take note. See the ghosts jouncing within her soul. 

Draculaura's nails pick at the skin of her birthmark.

The skin cracks.

blood trickles. 

Can a vampire even be haunted?

Yes. 

She knew the charade wouldn't last forever. 

Knew that one day the lights would dim and the stage would fade to black

A final curtain call. An impending doom.

The final nail in her glass coffin. Rendering it to shards.

And she'll be left plucking fragments from her eternal flesh.

There's a small joy in knowing you'll be her effacer. 

The one to put an end to 2,000 years of pretend. 

"And then he was all like "You know?" and I was like "Whatever" and he was-" 

"Draculaura, I have no idea what you are talking about." She turns to face you, your smile is a crushing weight. On her shoulders crave. You throw your head back and laugh. Laughing at how little she's changed since you shared a desk in class. Since your most eminent concern was fearleading practice and algebra tests. Draculaura should laugh too, this she knows. Yet she remains distracted by your neck and all the glory it holds. 

Just a small bite won't hurt...

☾🐾☽Clawdeen Wolf☾🐾☽

Clawdeen is protective to a fault. A trait she could never identify as innate or habit. Still, the urge to stalk you persists. Pricking away at her fur like wolfsbane. 

Clawdeen's been brought up to believe in legacy, to worship the moon and the stars and their maker. Ancient things have a way of lasting lifetimes. She knows this now, finds its evidence when she unravels her family, her pack, herself...you. Her kind has been known to nurture those they love, to birth and raise every great warrior. She ponders again if this was originally encrypted in their blood or if her species picked it up throughout the years. 

All she knows is that something inside her awakens when she sees you. A testament to an ancient love, long since stifled under sand and snow. 

She wonders if that's what she's done with you all these years. If, in her own way, she's raised you to become some sort of warrior, a great beast living amongst subsidiary. 

The two of you sit beside the bay window. Her newest sketchbook draped across her lap. You lean in resting your head on her shoulder, listening as she explains the inspiration behind each design. 

You feel like you've been mauled. A piece of you thrown in every direction. Only to morph into the creations of your hunter. "You remember your first design?" you ask, closing your eyes to still the world. "Wasn't that when we wrapped Howleen in a red blanket and my mom's scarf?" Her claws prick her upper lip as she stifles a giggle. "And made her walk around the house like it was a Scaris runway" You add, relishing in the bygone recollection. 

Your childhood memories together are coated in ichor. Jejune days 

when you'd watch her tumble over herself trying to be everything she could never be. Even back then, you'd known something was amiss with the world. Seen the ancient wolf that lay dormant within her. felt its bonds call out to you, pulling you in deeper. You'd cling to her like a frightened child to a teddy bear. 

But you're older now. Instead of the scared child, you've turned into the monster under the bed. Funny how everyone's heritage catches up with them at some point. Even when you grow unaware of its presence. Legacy still tends to echo in your bones. You're both the same in that regard.

"I can never tell if I'm alive or dead." You tell her one night. 

"Neither" Clawdeen's voice is rigid, stiff. She can feel your awakening and rebirth. It sings in her head, more vital than a howl. "creatures like us don't die so easily. We only transform." She remembers the legends, the wars, they rattle in her bones sending shivers up her spine. Neither of you have ever died. You've survived every tribulation. 

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" you reply, Clawdeen notes the embers that burn behind your eyes. How they spread across your body like a wildfire.

"What doesn't kill me, simply gives me a reason to kill it" She swears she sees the moon flicker in retort. 

Clawdeen slits her throat with her claws. 

Choking on moondust and half-fallen stars. 

Her father once told her heritage is everything before giving her a golden ring fashioned as a wolf's head. She still doesn't know what he means. 

She knows her kind was born from misplaced love. 

She's just glad your fates are entwined. 

"Someday you'll have red eyes." You trace your thumb over her lashes as you speak. Trailing down to play with her curls. She knows what you mean. Oh how, she wants to devour the hope you offer so freely. Rip it from your heart and feel it pulsing under her fangs. Maybe then her stars will align and she'll truly understand what she is. 

 Clawdeen's feelings grow teeth, gnawing at her carnivorously as she pulls you close. Muttering a 'thanks' as if it holds the weight of the world. There's comfort in the thought that she's molded you. Helped nourish your flames until they grew so potent. She's ever only been the middle child of the moon. But with you, she feels like so much more. Like something celestial, something ancient. An heirloom made of blood and moonrock. 

Above you the clouds part. Giving way to the full moon. 

₊˚.༄Lagoona Blue₊˚.༄

The air in her lungs feels synthetic, dry. She chokes off the sand and ozone, blinded by the unfiltered light, leaving burns on her frail, scaled, skin. She wonders if this is how a fish feels as it's being reeled on land. She wonders if she's any different now.

Her heart hammers when she sees you, cracking her ribs in hysteria.

Water lilies bloom from their marrow, she counts them just to distract from the stars burning in your eyes. Her teeth catch her bottom lip, gnawing the pink flesh like a shark does its prey.

Her eyes burn when she catches a glimpse of you by the pond. Gazing conflicted at three-eyed frogs. She can't help but see you as a cacophony of unmarked graves. Too many ghosts linger across your body, they're prints evident in the afternoon sun.

You leave a water lily behind her ear as you brush past her in the hallway. She thinks your perfection is exaggerated, artificial like the air. The kind daydreaming divers pray to find in rogue oysters. Lagoona is sure you're the last of your kind. An endangered creature too proud to ask for help. She clumsily fingers the flower's petals. The wave of nostalgia that invades, has her gasping for air.

The ocean she once called home is overrun by rot. She too is infected by the pollution that plugs her gills. In her dreams, she treads through clean oceans, webbed fingers entwined with yours. There is no corrosion here, no death. Just you and her and everything that entails the definition of good. When she wakes up she notices that her gills are falling one by one. Pastel blue glints scattered, floating across her bed like the empty husks of sea stars.

She too is the last of her kind.

She too is destined to perish in agony.

She wonders if you hear her tears. Hear them fall into the abyssal sea. Feel their reverberations as they create rings on the surface. She can't expect such a thing from you. You're in your own world struggling with your own scars. You left her another flower today, nymphoides indica, she doesn't understand what you're trying to tell her.

The pond has started to bleed too. Its decaying scent is pungent from miles away.

has it bled into her?

Is she infected too?

You're there again today, worlds apart yet close enough to touch. Her body stiffens as she kneels next to you. Desperate for your attention, desperate for you to tell her what she is. Maybe, just maybe she can confess her love in time to share a grave with you.

"I used to be so beautiful.." Your voice sounds evasive. A final cry for help before the ocean consumes you. Your reflection in the pond is muddled over. A glitch in reality, something Frankie would have more experience with. "you still are mate…you still are" Her words are earnest, yet she doubts they bring you solace. "If it's any consolation, I'm polluted too..". You laugh so condescending it makes her stomach churn. She rolls the words in her mouth again, tasting them for misunderstandings.

"We're all polluted Lagoona. We always have been."

You're made of one too many pieces, all doused in poison. You rearrange the water lilies on her head. Your fingers feel like home threading through her hair. "The last of our kind." Lagoona giggles, her body is growing dryer, desperate, the moisturizer and hydration station have long since stopped working. Now she awaits the poison to take over fully. You're her memento mori another helpless creature awaiting death.

And yet, to her, you're still as radiant as the first day she met you.

Lagoona's grave will be in the sea. It's a last wish one you decide to honor. You kiss her on the cheek as she turns to you. Body half submerged in her home. She hugs you, with all the longing her frail corpse can muster. It's only too late when you notice that you too are being submerged. Dragged into the eternal depths. Lagoona refuses to part with you. This is her final gift, the last present she will give you. A quick and painless death. One with a comforting presence.

Her father used to tell her strange tales of bizarre men who'd come to their ancestrial home, seeking answers far too advanced for them. She wonders if she's had the answers all along. Maybe she just had to look a little deeper.

It doesn't matter now. For her final breaths, she is at peace. She is content to end like this. With you in her arms.

𓂀𓆣☥Cleo De Nile☥𓆣𓂀

Cleo likes to think she's come a long way from her former self. No longer an autocrat cheerleader with stary eyes and a need to be worshipped.

She likes to think she's filled out the role of queen, of sovereign, of absolute. 

She's done her dynasty proud...

Shattered and transformed herself into the perfect vessel. 

It's not until she catches her rogue reflection in the gleam of your eyes, that she realizes she's still the same. Eons have passed yet Cleo still remains the same frail cowardly daughter bearing the burden of the D'Nile name. 

You look every bit a queen, a sovereign, an absolute. You've grown to fill the role you never knew you had. 

Cleo bleeds gold. She always has. 

Little did she know, you did too. 

You always had.

There's a crushing weight, something that makes her long for entombment. "I wish I were a mere child once more." her tone is sand on sand. So faint you think it nothing more than a mirage of sound. Her head lays on your lap bleeding out her sins as she prays for the sun to melt her. Feeble, unstable thing she is. Hailing from a feeble unstable place.

Maybe it would do you both some good to forgo the past. To embrace a thundering, grotesque future. Maybe it's time to retire the thrones and gold bangles. Maybe it's time to depart. 

she laughs at such a preposterous notion. 

Cleo's Icoffine lays in a pool of shards and wires and golden beads. Her bandaged fingers wrapped tightly around your bicep, tugging you closer until the scent of spices and flora became overbearing. "it's...okay" you lie through the rage bubbling in your throat. Through the tears that sting the corners of your eyes. "It's not-it's...it's never been okay", the words feel like boulders crushing her bones. turning her body and bandages back to dust. 

You've known Cleo to always wear a broken crown. Funny how, after a millennia, the cracks still keep growing. Only now they bleed into her corpse, cut through bandages, and aim for the heart. You want to wipe her tears away. To whisper glory and purpose into her bejeweled ears.

Cleo lies on the golden floor. It's cold, frigid, she doesn't remember gold to be so unwelcoming, so petrifying. You pull her hand to your heart, hovering above her. Watching as she melts and hardens in the same breath. 

"Allow me the pleasure of death once more. Allow me the luxury of being the only monster you ever have to know." Cleo doesn't remember missing her sarcophagi so much. Her lungs fill with broken promises as her eyes sting from mulish obsoletes. "I've been so blind for so long." She confesses, free hand fiddling with the jewels on her blouse. Running them along her nails waiting to see which will scratch first. "As have I, there's no need to-" her voice is harsh as she sits up. The undead rising from its bejeweled grave. Her hands cup your face. She tries to be gentle, to cradle you like a flower petal. "I'm-I-" her breath hitches as her fractured mind screams. "I hate myself all so very much. Yet I love you with every bit of the heart I thought I lost all those millennia ago."

Chaos has a way of squirming through her veins. 

Her dreams are tainted in rubies, seeing you lying in the sand. 

The noise above is defining. She hates that she's not used to it by now. 

It can't be fair. 

The world can't take you from her. 

You're the only lifeline she has left. 

The only hope that remains. 

You tell Cleo you want to die one starless night, she understands the sentiment. You don't know why that makes you cry. Her lips leave phantom kisses across your eyelids. Spilling gold pleated secretes into your skin. Cleo wishes she kept you entombed next to her, rotting away far from every disaster. Yet she knows she can't, not now at least. You've morphed her into her purpose better than her omnipotent father and cruel sister ever could. With you by her side, she's truly become a queen, a sovereign, an absolute. While you rein above her, some all-knowing creature who she can't help but worship. 

Maybe someday, decades from now. 

The love you share will be dethroned

How unlikely such a feat seems.

Taglist: @hadesnewpersephone @feedmestraycats @deathangelraven @itotallysleepenough @yuuka29 @umgatochamadopercyval

[noisyghost]

random assortment of old (2020-2022 ish) werewolf sketches that never made their way here bc im lazy :')

[grogusmum]

A Dark and Stormy Night (oneshot)

werewolf!FRANKIE MORALES X F!READER

W/C: 3500ish

RATED: E (18+)

WARNINGS: well, monsterfucking, oral sex (f recieving), rough sex, unprotected PiV sex (it's a fantasy y'all you know what to do!!). As always, if you see something, say something. Message me in my DMs, I'm happy to add something I missed.

SUMMARY: You stumble into a lighthouse to get out of a storm, and meet the handsome light-keeper, who has a secret, but is irresistible.

A/N: Oberyn and the Merling was technically my first foray into monsterfucking, but that was like teenagers humping in the back of a car...this is, well, it's as no holds barred as I've ever gotten. I hope it doesn't suck, lol. Anyway wish me luck! 💚

This was posted as a multipart fic, but when I finished the second part it made more sense to be all one piece. I may write more for these two, but as it stands, it is a oneshot.

You follow a boardwalk that becomes a path as the clouds roll in, obscuring the moon. You know you need to find cover before the storm.

Focusing on the shifting sand under your feet, as the rain begins, you speed up. The skies continue to darken; soon, you reach the first rocks of the jetty while the rain comes down in sheets. Looking up, you find yourself at the base of an old lighthouse. The lens swings across the black water as it lights up the dark and stormy night for those lost at sea.

Beach rose thorns tear at your sweater as you race up the slope. Beyond, scrub pines and pin oak trees create a small amount of cover; the wind picks up, but not before you hear the baying of a wolf… no, not a wolf. A coyote, there are no wolves in these parts. But there's something different about the howl; you speed up and bang on the door of the great beacon.

"Hello?" You shout, "please! Is anyone there?"

As if in answer, another howl rings out, making you jump. After a crash of lightning for good measure, you try the latch and push the door open, willing to disregard good manners. Looking for a switch or a lamp, you find only a candle in a heavy brass holder on a small shelf and a black matchbox holder attached to the curved wall. 

Running the wooden match across the strike pad, it sputters to life, and you light the candle. Slipping your finger into the brass ring of the candle holder and carrying it before you, the Gothic horror mood of the whole situation is not lost on you. With a sigh and a shiver, you wind up the spiral stairs.

"Hell-lo? I don't mean to intrude, but…" you call again and then with a chuckle in an undertone, "Our car broke down a few miles up the road. Do you have a phone we might use?"

Shivering in your soaked clothes, you reach the first level, which contains the living quarters. You can't help but rush to the woodstove, which warms the round room.

You hear a creak below as you take off your shoes and socks. Did you forget to latch the door entirely? Biting your lip in worry, you continue to listen; bracing yourself, you pull a poker from the coal scuttle.

You wait and wait. Time spins out—the only measure is your heart’s tattoo, like a rabbit's. As the adrenaline clears your system, you become exhausted. Swaying where you stand, the iron poker clangs on the pine floor, bringing you back. Deciding it must just be “old house sounds,” you move to the bed and sit, and without so much as a yawn of warning, your eyes slip closed.

In the middle of the night, you feel a weight on your chest, soft and warm. Your eyes flutter open, and blocking the light coming from the woodstove is an enormous shape pressing on you; as your eyes focus, it huffs a breath, and you recognize it as a sleeping dog sound. It's huge, with pointed ears. How did you not see or hear it when you came in? Whether a watchdog or not, wouldn’t it have come to investigate? The trunk of the animal is on you, its muzzle at your collarbone, a front leg on either side of you, fully caging you in. Your hand comes up, fingers sinking into its plush fur, like a wolf’s… you shake your head, not a wolf, of course, but those dogs that look like them. Its steady heartbeat and relaxed breathing lull you back to sleep; elk-hound, that's what the one, you think, as you drift under again.

Waking again at full light, you find yourself tucked into a patchwork quilt, your shoes placed under the stove, warm and dry, no dog to be seen. The smell of eggs and bacon draws you up the stairs, halfway up you can hear the food sizzling on the stove. You feel this need to check yourself over, but you seem fine. You fell asleep on the bed of a stranger, who is apparently back- you shake your head at how unbelievably dangerous that was. Then you remember the dangers outside… it's a calculated, if hastily figured, risk.

His back to you, in front of the stove, you presume, is the light-keeper, a cable knit sweater stretched across his broad shoulders. 

"He-hello?"

He turns, soft brown eyes, brown curls standing up as though he’d run his fingers through them just a moment ago, a sharp nose that suits him, with crease of his bottom lip that accentuates his mouth’s natural pout. Not that you had any real expectations on what a lighthouse operator looks like but... maybe like some old-salt sailor type with a beard and pipe. Silly, of course. You remind yourself that you are not a cod fish and close your mouth.

"Morning," came his rich baritone voice.

"I'm so sorry, I- I - the storm-” you stumble as you try to pull yourself together.

"Don't worry about that. I hope you slept alright. "

"I did, thank you, but  I- should get going." You start putting on your shoes, “ I really didn't mean to fall asleep, " ...on your bed.

“'S not problem, really; that was one hell of a storm last night.”

“I should go-”

Well,” he says, bringing breakfast to a simple pine table, “that's the tricky part…” 

“W-why?”

“The roads are impassable and there's more rain on the way.”

“Oh.”

“Nothing to be done about it right now,” he says, “have something to eat.”

You begin to eat, and after a bite or two, you introduce yourself.

“Where are my manners- I’m Frankie. Spending too much time on my own, I guess.”

“Are you kidding, I burst into your house like Goldilocks! Found sleeping in your bed.”

“And was it just right, Goldie?” He smirks.

You fluster a little; he is very handsome after all, and broad and was that flirting… 

“Better to be Goldilocks than Red Riding Hood, I suppose.” He says you get the feeling it wasn’t meant to be out loud. “I guess that depends on who the huntsman turns out to be…” 

He notices your eyes widen and smiles apologetically, brushing his comment aside. “Sorry, like I said, spend a lot of time on my own.”

"S-speaking of Red Riding Hood, where’s your dog? It came and slept with me last night.”

“Hmmm?" Frankie murmurs as he sets the table, "Oh, he’s- around.”

“Well, he kept me very cozy last night. What a cuddle bug; what’s his name?”

“His, um - it’s Cisco. You better dig into those eggs; they're gonna get cold.”

“Right,” you take up a fork of scrambled egg, “I will be able to leave today, though, right?”

“We’ll have to see,” is all he says before digging into his breakfast.

Frankie goes about his light-keeper duties, including hunting for his lost skiff. You aren't sure what to do with your time-

“Is there something I can do to help? I kind of feel weird just sitting around-”

“Well, the weather isn't going to let us do much outside safely, but-”

Frankie pulls off his ball cap, ruffles his hair, and plops it back on his head, thinking, “I mean, you could help clean the lantern glass …”

“Really?” You stand, excited to do a real lighthouse job. 

“Sure, hard to mess up… no offense, and safe.” 

You take no offense; on the contrary, you clap happily to yourself, to which Frankie chuckles.

After showing you the supplies and giving you a quick demonstration, he starts down the stairs to continue with his other duties and then stops and turns-

"Thanks, Goldie," he winks and then descends the stairs.

After a time, you see him out on the rocks despite the wind starting up again from the east. He must be looking for his rowboat. You decide to scout the circumference of the lantern room, looking out the windows to see if you can see the craft. 

To the northwest, you see something red against the rocks. It doesn't look good.

You step out onto the gallery. Luckily, this isn't a particularly tall lighthouse, but it's tall enough, and the iron balcony was small enough that you feel a touch of vertigo looking down. It doesn't help that the wind's really kicking up now, reminding you that this is just a break in the storm. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath and open them.

"Uh, Frankie!" 

Frankie looks up, hand going to the bill of his cap.

"Is that your skiff?" You point to the red “something” half in the water. 

He hollers his thanks and jogs over to where you are indicating, and you can see his frustrated huff as his hands hitch onto his hips in a disgruntled fashion.

Cleaning all that glass takes time, and your shoulders can feel the real work of it. You stop only when your stomach screams for lunch, and you find a sandwich under plastic wrap for you, but you haven’t seen Frankie, Lighthouse Keeper, the rest of your time working on it, nor Cisco, the Lighthouse Dog. 

He had brought the boat to a shed and disappeared inside it. When and if he came out, you didn't notice. You also realize you haven’t seen any signs of a pet anywhere; no bed or bowls. When you come down the spiral steps, you smell of the concoction used for cleaning the glass and lens; watered-down isopropyl alcohol and Woolight - but mostly the alcohol. 

“You'll want to wash your hands with this,” Frankie hands you a bar of soap at the first landing of the spiral stair. “It'll take care of the rubbing alcohol smell and keep your hands from drying out.” 

Frankie gives a crooked smile of apology at your startled jump. Murmuring your thanks, you take it and smell the bar that looks so small when in his hand. Fresh. Your mind wanders to how this fresh scent might mingle with Frankie's natural one. The bubble of revery is just a millisecond and pops like one the moment your eyes land on Frankie, who looks like he knows exactly what you're thinking.

When you join him in the kitchen, where he is again standing over the stove, the delicious scent of savory soup reminds you of coming home after a long chilly walk from school. The wind is howling now, and you can hear the crash of the waves, as high tide approaches, the pound of them like rumbling thunder. Its only rival is the whip crack of the actual thunder chasing the lighting strikes illuminating the windows. 

“Where’s Cisco?”

“Weather like this he likes to be below,” Frankie says after a beat, back still turned, “I have him set up with his bed down there so he doesn’t get anxious.”

“Oh,” you feel a little more at ease about not seeing neither hide nor hair of the beast of a dog all day.

“It'll be dark early due to the storm, and I’ll have duties up above. I’m going to ask you to stay in the living quarters. I’ll sleep up there, so, um, just - make yourself at home.”  

You do your best, but your mind is on Frankie in a way that makes what you would be doing at home, not at all appropriate, even when told to make yourself at home.  His dark eyes, big hands... him calling you Goldie. How many times your mind has gone back to him asking you if his bed was just right, you dare not admit, even to yourself. You don't know him, you remind yourself.

Suddenly, there's a bang and scuffle. Then you hear a yowl.

“Cisco?” You go to the door, preparing to go down to where you assume he's been set up, but a second sound confirms it's coming from above, not below… where Frankie is.                   

You turn and look up the spiral stairs. “F-Frankie?”

Your foot hesitantly lands on the first step -

“D-did Cisco follow you? 

More shuffling and a loud thunk on the floor bring you up short. Frankie asked you to stay below, but maybe he hurt himself, or Cisco made his way up there and was scared of the storm. Your feet start moving again up the winding steps. 

You pause, your head just above the landing, eyes adjusting to the strange light of the lantern room. Instead of finding a dog, on the floor is a pile of clothes, folded neatly, with Frankie's cap placed atop it. As you look up, you see Frankie from behind, sitting in the one chair the room affords. His skin gleams with a layer of sweat, and he gives a sudden quake.

“Frankie! A-are you alright? I heard-”

His head whips around and then down as you are still only partway up the stairs. 

“I told you to sta—” the lightning flashes, and you see Frankie's eyes have changed. They are no longer warm, sweet brown but glowing amber. 

“Wh- you- you're-” Everything in you screams to run as far away as possible, but when Frankie contorts in a new wave of pain, you scramble up the stairs. He almost wails in despair as you approach the chair. “Frankie, what is happening? How can I - hel -”

“ C-can’t, go G-gold-ie, please!” 

“I don’t understand, Frankie. What’s happening?” 

The light-keeper takes a steadying breath as if fighting every molecule of his changing form, Though he knows it’s too late. Too late to shield you. 

“C-come here,” he breathes.

Lighting flashes again, the boom of thunder right on top of it. When your eyes adjust yet again, you go around the chair to face him. Frankie takes your hand; long claw-like nails have sprouted, and you have cottoned on. Frankie is - 

While he has a firm grip, he causes no pain. Your brows knot as he pushes up your sleeve. 

“I will remember,” he says, as much for himself as for you. Then he presses his nose to your wrist, inhaling deeply, and his eyes flick up to yours. The storm rages, the lens does its steady turn, and Frankie continues to smell you. He stands, eyes never breaking contact, his bare skin glistening in the light.

 You had tried not to look down at his body. But he's so close, and when he stands, your resolve breaks. Frankie is strong and somehow more broad across the shoulders than when in the confines of his fisherman’s sweater but has a trim waist. His Adonis belt is so enticing, as is his soft belly. Below that, his uncut cock has an enticing curve. Your eyes travel back up. You find his waiting for yours; he lifts his head away from your wrist and pulls; you stumble a step closer, and his face burrows into your neck. He breathes in your scent.

“Didn't harm you last night, I won't… I’ll remember, promise. You smell so good, Goldie.”

The warmth you feel low in your pelvis is combined with a shiver as you clench on nothing.

“S-so, you-your…” you stammer as his clawed hands wrap around your waist; he tastes your collarbone, licking a long stripe as he finds his way below your ear. Your knees buckle, but Frankie has a firm grip on you. “Cisco?”

“ ‘m ssorry,” he slurs, his nose nestled where your ear and jaw meet. “You taste as good as you smell, Goldie… I wonder-” 

What Frankie is wondering is interrupted by a long canine whine as he pulls back, face contorted in pain as his teeth elongate into fangs.

The blood has surely left your face, and you're shocked as you become aware that it has rushed to lower regions. You can feel the wetness between your legs, and  Frankie, closing his eyes, breathes in how your scent has changed. 

The sinful look he gives sends more heat between your thighs; you know you're soaked by now. You can still see the handsome light-keep though his eyes glow, his ears are now pointed, and his hair is shaggy. A hungry tongue moves over sharp teeth. Teeth made for tearing your throat out.

The next thunderclap shakes the lighthouse, and it's only then that he breaks his grip on you. He cries out as his body continues to transform. It snaps you out of your trance. You run down the iron stairs, passing the kitchen, down to the living quarters, and you're brought up short by a full wolf bay sounding from above. 

“What am I doing? What am I doing!?” you look up the stairs, and almost against your will, you look through the doorway to the bed—the bed where Frankie had lain atop you as the wolf. Then your eyes drift upward again, biting your thumb in indecision. Or perhaps fear at the decision you're apparently making. You slowly undress, leaving the door open; you spread out on the soft bed and wait to see what happens.

How much time before you hear the click of canine claws on the treads of each step, you aren't sure. You only know the twist of arousal you feel arches your back, and Frankie hasn't even touched you. Are you afraid? Not as much as you think you should be. It's there; this danger lights up your brain and sends adrenaline coursing through you. But he didn't hurt you last night, and he said- he-

The wolf growls around the door; he is not on all fours but hunched, one front paw occasionally touching the floor. 

“F-f-” you stammer as his front paws press heavily on the bed. He is enormous, and he hulks over you. His snout investigates every crease and crevice. You close your eyes as he noses at your mound. “-fuck.”

The wolf's tongue dips between your legs, and you gasp as your legs open like an involuntary response, and Frankie seems to seize the opportunity to open you further, pawing at your thighs, opening them, holding them where he wants them. Claws press on your sensitive skin as he laps at you.

“Frankie!” Your fingers dig into the thick, soft fur as the twist in your womb tightens and you pulse. 

How much of the man is still present, you have no idea. You are, of course, banking on it, and you figure praying to every deity that he is there, keeping the beast from tearing you to shreds, can't hurt. 

You can feel the rumble from deep in Frankie's throat, and when his long tongue breaches your pussy, he is immediately rewarded with a gush as lights pop behind your eyelids and the coil in your belly snaps.

You cry out, and he drinks sloppily at your entrance. He doesn't stop until you start to come down from your high, your chest’s rise and fall finally slowing.

Then the beast towers over you, his cock weeping. In one swift move of inhuman strength, he's suddenly flipped you onto your stomach. His large paws holding your hips, he brings your backside up, and in one fast motion, he's sheathed himself to the hilt. 

As ready as his tongue had made you, you still are stretched beyond anything you've ever experienced. He is deep inside, and his snout nuzzles into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, making you feel utterly consumed by him. His brutal pace lifts your knees off the bed when he begins to move. His rhythm takes your breath away, his length hitting that delicious spot inside you that most find elusive, and it isn't long before the telltale swell of another orgasm begins to crest.

When you clamp down around him, he howls, and you know he has come right along with you. His rhythm stutters and slows. Frankie's tongue lazily drags over your shoulder blade, and he whines as his nose nudges at your hair.  As you both float back into your bodies, opening your eyes, the round room is drenched in moonlight. The storm has passed. 

The beast allows you to roll onto your side before covering you again, as he had the night before. He gives a chaste lick to your cheek, and you huff a laugh, wondering if you will even be able to look him in the eye in the morning. But you're too exhausted and drift to sleep before shame can take its turn to feast on you.

The morning sun blazes as it has a way of doing after a storm; shorebirds herald the day, and again, you wake to the smell of breakfast, sausage, coffee, and eggs. You're again tucked into the worn but well-cared-for quilt. Your eyes rove the room as you try not to overthink, and just as you reach for your clothes (which are neatly laid out at the end of the bed), Frankie, the man, comes in with a tray heaped with food—the smell of his delicious cooking filling the room.

“ ‘Morning, Goldie.” he smiles shyly. His eyes are not quite meeting yours, and he keeps himself busy with the breakfast tray. You return his smile, somehow his sweet bashfulness making you feel less self-conscious- 

“G’morning, Fran- Fran-cisco!”

Brown eyes sparkling in response to yours becoming like saucers, Frankie's smile widens.

Taglist @pedrostories @beecastle @katareyoudrilling @elegantduckturtle @practicalghost @amneris21 @batdarkladyvampir @miraclesabound @greeneyedblondie44 @fan-of-encouragement @browneyes-issac @mswarriorbabe80 @nissameta1782 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @heavenseed76 @oonajaeadira @harriedandharassed @geekrenaissance @tintinn16 @deadhumourist @littlemisspascal @wannab-urs @animejunki5 @writeforfandoms @tae27 @chaoticgeminate

@pagannightwitch @haylzcyon @kurlyfrasier @sherala007 @dontgodownfornoroses @all-the-way-down-here @trickstersp8 @sgt-morgan @jallen0126 @tanzthompson @avidreader73 @simpingcowboy @brilliantopposite187 @quicax3 @jedi-in-crocs @vickie5446 @painitemoondust @readiskeepingmegoing @mandoloriancookie @inept-the-magnificent @freakrenaissance

@evyiione @adriiibell @princess76179 @beskarprincessjenny @mashomasho @thirddeadlysin @mandoblowmybackout @terecord @adancedivasmom

[the-shy-wolf]

My first attempt at making info sheets!

[glinka-bean]

[hulkster000]

Alll of them together now🫶🏻🫶🏻

[ibrithir-was-here]

Little flip from putting Classical Lit characters into Monster High, here’s Monster High kids in their Classical Lit forms

Draculaura would of course be one of the Weird Sister pack, voluptuously eating babies and terrifying solicitors. Frankie I could see coming to be in a canon divergence where instead of the Creature asking Victor to make him a wife as a companion he asks for his own child (with all the concerns about Autonomy and whatnot still very much there)

[miss-atomic-blog]

Freaky, chic, & fly Monster High ✨️

I love the new dolllssss! I had to draw them. Process video on tiktok

[godteri-takk]

Happy pride to all monsters!!! Words cannot describe how happy i am about the queernes of monster high, both canon and fanon <3 in this drawing they're aged up a bit (only cus I wanna draw them like that) LOVE THEM<3

Click images for better quality, image description in ALT!

[something-tofightfor]

Liminality: Part 11

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 6,768

Rating: R - for violence, injury, blood, fear etc.

Summary: Finding yourself face to face with the Chaos Wolf, you realize just how terrifying the creatures can be. For the first time, you're forced to face your fear and rely on your own survival instincts.

But having good intentions doesn't mean that things turn out the way you hope they will... and this encounter may lead to the reveal of much more than you intended.

Author’s note:

Sorry to keep you hanging for so long; life gets in the way sometimes. Thank you for being patient, and for sticking around. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Wanna talk about Wolf Frankie or his friends? My inbox is always open.

Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)

You heard a low growl, and then, as your grip on the phone tightened, you saw the wolf break from the treeline and head straight toward you. 

Instinctively, you backed up. 

But you’d misjudged your position and went sprawling over the legs of one of the outdoor chairs that surrounded the small fire pit, another cry escaping your lips. You kept the phone in your hand, though, determined to do something good with what might have been the final few moments of your life. You’ll know what he looks like. You’ll know what it looks like so you can find him. 

It had only been seconds, but if felt like much longer,  and as the wolf got closer to you, you used what little light you had to assess it. It was big and it was fast, and unlike Frankie, it was dark, its fur shorter than you expected. But it’s limping. Still. And unlike Frankie’s warm golden eyes, this wolf’s were orange bordering on red and catching the light made them glow the same way they had in the darkness. It looks mean. It looks… 

You scrambled away from it, and instead of trying to go for the RV’s door, you went for the chair on the other side of the pit, hoping that you could grab the gun and at least get a shot off before it got you. But that was wishful thinking - and you knew it. Where the fuck are you, Will?

You screamed again when it reached you, stopping just short of where you were and lowering its head. 

Your first instinct was to kick outward at it and hope you made contact. But it swiped at your leg, claws easily tearing through the pants you’d changed into earlier as it deflected the first blow. That didn’t stop you from lashing out a second time with the same leg, splatters of blood raining down on the dirt around you. When you made contact, the heel of your foot catching it somewhere on the shoulder, you heard it grunt, the sound oddly human. 

It backed away and then stared at you, head tilted to one side… and then the wolf growled, lowering its head a second time without taking its eyes off of you. You only had a split second to think, and when you closed your eyes, it was Frankie’s face you saw - his bright smile from the night you’d first met flashing in your memory. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

The crack of a gunshot caught you off guard, a piercing howl of pain filling the air immediately afterward. And when you opened your eyes again, you saw the wolf spinning away from you and tearing back for the trees, leaving a trail of blood behind it. Will’s voice came moments later, and then he was beside you, the blonde on his knees as he assessed your injury. 

“Did it bite you?” 

“No.” You forced the word out, still holding onto your phone. “No it sw…swiped at me, and …” Your leg hurt - the wound was painful, even though it wasn’t huge. “Fuck, Will, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I -” 

“We need to get up into the blind in case it comes back.” He moved to crouch in front of you, taking your face between both hands and forcing you to look at him. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.” You flexed your toes, nodding. “I can’t climb a ladder though. I -” 

“There’s a pulley.” He nodded, his voice calm, though you could see how tightly he was wound. “I’ll get you up there.” You nodded back, glancing down at your phone. Still recording, but I can stop now, I … 

He helped you to your feet and you ended the video, stuffing the phone back into your pocket. Will put an arm around you to help support your weight, but it still took longer than you knew he would have liked to get to the trees where the blind was. “Will, I can try to climb. I -”

“No.” He pointed. “We’ve got supplies up there that are heavier than you and we sure as shit didn’t haul ‘em up by hand.” You watched as he tugged on a rope, the muscles in his biceps flexing, and then a few seconds later, a wooden platform came into view as it lowered from above. “It’s only about 20 feet up. We had ‘Fish as a wolf run and jump as high as he could, and it was still too high for him to reach.” He gestured with one hand. “Get on and sit. It’s smooth, I swear. We’ve all done this before.” 

That made you smile, even though your still-pumping adrenaline was fading fast. You did as he asked, lowering yourself at the center of the platform, and then without warning, Will was lifting you into the trees. You didn’t want to question it, but you had to wonder how it was rigged - and what exactly they had stored up in the blind that required an elevator. 

You got your answer moments later when you rose through the hole in the floor of it and saw what you would have described as a small studio apartment inside of the space. This is like a fucking treehouse. There was a twin sized mattress under a covered window on one side, along with a crate that you assumed contained food and drinks. There was a larger crate on the opposite side, and resting on top of that was a laptop. The entire space was lit by string lights, and they cast an almost cozy glow down on you. 

“What the fuck?” Scooting off of the platform and onto the floor, you peered over the edge and called down to Will.  “I’m up here, do I need to -”

“No. You’re good.” He looked up, nodding. “Back away, I’m gonna bring it back down here.” You were confused but did what he asked, and once the platform was out of sight again, you scooted back and then leaned against the wall, your injured leg stretched out in front of you. 

You were bleeding steadily, and as you eyed your leg, you wondered if Will realized just how bad your injury was. That didn’t matter, though. What mattered was that you were safe, and that you only had a few hours until Frankie was back - and the three of you could get the fuck out of the woods for a month. 

Will called up to you as he climbed the ladder, and when you saw his head poke up and through a smaller door in the floor, you actually laughed, the sight of him calming you more than you thought it would. “I went and got your gun. Figured we should both have one.” 

You thanked him, taking the weapon and cradling it to your chest, and then for the next few minutes, you watched him go into soldier mode. 

He raised the platform a second time, pulling it all the way to the ceiling and securing it there. That left a gaping hole in the floor, but when he pulled the rope all the way up, too, you understand what he was doing. If it tries to jump at us, we’ll see it. Once that was done, he sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Will, I -”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” He met your eyes, head shaking back and forth. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Didn’t I? I should have had the gun. I should have been prepared. “I need to clean and bandage your leg. I’ve gotta see if it’s going to need stitches.” You hadn’t even considered that, but once again, he was right. Shit. 

Will unloaded the contents of his pockets onto the mattress and then opened a second crate, pulling out the largest first aid kit you’d ever seen. I’m not surprised, though. He pressed a button near the end of the light strand, and the room brightened, giving you your first real look at your leg. 

There was blood pooled beneath it, and you got a glimpse of your skin through the torn fabric. It hurts. He settled down next to you and carefully lifted your leg, resting it atop his knees. “I’m going to pull your pant leg up, alright?” You nodded, fingers curled in against your palms. He acted without pause, peeling the torn material away and then folding it over on itself. “I’m going to clean it now. I’m sorry, but it’s probably going to hurt like a sonofabitch.”

You mumbled a thank you for the warning but kept quiet otherwise as Will took things step by step. It wasn’t quite as bad as you’d thought once the blood had been wiped away, and you both heard and saw his sigh of relief when a trio of slashes was revealed, proving that it had only been a claws and not teeth that pierced your skin. 

He cleaned it deftly, his fingers carefully moving over your leg, and then Will applied a generous amount of antibacterial ointment before reaching for the kit again. “Good news.” He held up a bandage. “I don’t think you need stitches. It’s deep, but as long as you’re careful, I think it’ll close on its own.”

“Frankie’s not going to let me be anything but careful, Will.” Covering your face with both hands, you tilted your head back. “I feel like such an idiot. I set the gun down to make a video for him, and then I wandered away from it, and …”

“Wait, you took a video? Were you recording when it came at you?” He sounded stunned, and when you met his eyes again, nodding, you saw something like excitement in them. “That’s fucking great. Now we’ll know what it looks like, and if someone ever blames Frankie for this shit, we can prove it’s not him.” You hadn’t even thought of that, but it was the truth. “Oh, that’s amazing.” His smile grew, Will’s attention focused on you. “He might not kill me now.”

“Kill you? Why?” Will raised a brow and dropped his gaze to your leg, tapping on your ankle with one finger. “Because I got hurt?”

“I hesitated.” He spoke quietly, but there wasn’t a long pause before he started to explain. “Not because I didn’t want to shoot it, but because it was so close to you, and if I missed, or you moved …” That was something that you didn’t want to think about, and for long moments, both of you were quiet. But I do have to ask… 

“Did you hit it? It ran like you did.”

“I did.” Will nodded. “Hit it in the leg. There’s blood all over the clearing from both of you, so we’re going to have to clean that up tomorrow morning before we leave, but wherever it is, it’s hurt.” 

“That means it’s been hurt two moons in a row.” You spoke without thinking, and only caught yourself once you’d finished. Shit. Shit, I shouldn’t have … “I mean…”

“What do you mean?” He leaned in, frowning. “How do you know that?” You could blame it on the pain - or the lingering adrenaline - but no matter how you framed it, you’d blown your cover. 

“I…” Just tell him. “Will, I’m not really here because I’m writing a book about Tampa.” You rubbed at one eye, sighing. “I mean, I am writing, but that’s not …” Straightening up as much as you could, you repositioned your legs so that your bandaged one was stacked on your other one, elevated slightly. “My family hunts werewolves. I saw the articles about the attacks, and so I came here.” 

“Before you say another word…” He stiffened, and for the first time, you saw anger in his expression, his eyes going flat. “Does Frankie know?” Of course that’s his first question.

“He does.” You let out a shaky breath. “That’s why he told me what he was. He did come to my place after last month because of what Benny and I heard and because of the attack, but it wasn’t that he started to shift, it was that he saw all of my research.” You stared directly into his eyes and continued. “My cousin was the last one attacked. And the only reason he survived was because a wolf… his fiancee as a wolf protected him and chased the other one away.”

“What the fuck.” He stood, pacing back and forth as he looked down at you. “You’re joking.” 

“I’m not. I wish I was. They came here because I told them what was going on, and were in the wrong place at the wrong time and … she bit the other wolf. She hurt it. And I knew she hurt it because I went to the hospital to see him that morning and she told me.” 

It felt good to tell him. It made you feel lighter to be honest with one of Frankie’s closest friends. And they all deserve to know. “Is he alright?”

“He is. He didn’t get bitten either, just clawed. He got it way worse than me, though.” You pressed a hand to your belly, sighing. “Frankie’s arm was also bothering him that morning, and for a split second, I thought …”

“You thought it was him so you pulled the gun.” Will stopped moving and then crouched down, looking you in the eye. “This is fucking nuts. Why did you lie?”

“We thought that the more people that knew, the more dangerous it got. You guys own the bar and there are hundreds of people in and out every week. Something slipping could have been bad, so Frankie suggested that we tell you guys that I knew, just not … the whole truth about why.” 

“Smart.” He nodded. “Every now and then ‘Fish surprises me.” That made you laugh, and when Will extended his hand, you took it and let him help you to your feet. “It’ll be more comfortable if we sit on the mattress.” He waited for you to take the few steps necessary to reach it, and when you were sitting, he moved a smaller crate in front of you so that you could keep your leg elevated. Will busied himself in front of the large container for a few minutes and then lowered himself next to you, reaching over to hold out a bottle of water and a few tablets. “These’ll help with the pain. Prescription strength ibuprofen. Nothing bad.” You took the pills and swallowed them dry, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“He’s going to freak out when he comes back and there’s blood everywhere and he can’t find us.” You knew that he’d think the worst, and wished that you’d been just a little more careful. We could have ended this. 

“He is. But it’s better than the alternative.” You agreed and then let your mind drift. You could hear the creatures in the forest again, bugs and frogs and then, after a while, the hoot of the owl. It relaxed you, because it meant that the wolf that had attacked you was long gone - unless Will’s shot had injured it more than he’d anticipated. But we wouldn’t ever be that lucky

You actually dozed off a few minutes later, head tipping to the side and resting against Will’s sturdy shoulder. His voice brought you back to attention, even though he spoke quietly. “So you didn’t know when you met ‘Fish? The two of you meeting was … on accident?”

“It was. I saw one of Tom’s ads while I was in a hotel, and reached out because I needed somewhere to stay. He recommended your bar and Frankie for helicopter tours, and it all just spiraled from there.” 

“What are the fuckin’ odds?” You’d asked yourself that multiple times a day since you’d arrived in Florida, and you told Will as much. His laugh was genuine, but it was short-lived, as was yours. “Will you tell me more about what you do? Why you do it? Before he got bit in South America, I didn’t know any of this shit existed, but over the last couple years, it’s been… I’ve learned a hell of a fuckin’ lot even though we knew nothing for sure.” 

There was nothing you could do to put your secret back under wraps, and so you took a deep breath before clearing your throat.  “My great-great-great grandma was the first person in our family to have been bitten…” 

— 

You talked to Will for almost an hour, but then you started to drift again, even though you knew it was approaching sunrise. 

He’d given you a blanket to wrap around your shoulders right around the time you’d gotten to the part where you took over the hunt, and the material was soft. You snuggled into it, yawning, and to your surprise, Will let you lean against him, even going so far as to put an arm around your shoulders to steady you. 

“Get some rest. We can talk more later.” He sighed. “Before that, though, I have one more question for you.” What’s he going to ask? “Do you want me to tell him I know, or do you want to do that?”

“We’ll tell him together.” You yawned again, covering your mouth with one hand. “I never wanted to lie to you guys, or for him to. It didn’t feel right.” He hummed, and you couldn’t tell what the tone of the noise was, but it didn’t matter. After that, you stopped fighting sleep - and it came quickly. 

But it didn’t last long, and you were startled awake by the sound of Frankie’s frantic voice, the man screaming your name from below you. “Shit.” You pushed to your feet and then hissed when you put weight on your injured leg, nearly toppling back down onto the mattress before Will caught you. “Fuck, he -”

“It’s fine.” He squeezed your arm. “It’ll be fine.” Will knelt down and then leaned over the opening in the floor. “‘Fish, we’re up here.” You peered over, too, and were stunned to see Frankie wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts standing in the clearing beneath you, both hands in his hair. He looks so worried. Shit. I never wanted … “We’re both up here, and we’re fine, but -”

“What the fuck is all this blood?” He sounded almost frantic, and the expression on his face when he looked up and focused on you nearly broke your heart in two. “I smell another wolf. Who got -”

“Frankie, it’s mine. Some of it is -”

“WHAT?” He roared the word and you heard Will groan, his fingers tightening against the edge of the cutout. “What the fuck do you mean it’s yours?” 

“Let me climb down, ‘Fish, and then we can get her down, and we’ll explain.” Will looked over at you and you saw the concern in his eyes. “But you’ve gotta calm down. I’ve got blood on my clothes, and so does she, and it’s not going to do anyone any good if you… react.” 

Frankie rubbed both hands over his face and you watched as he took a deep breath and held it, his broad shoulders relaxing after long moments. “I’m good. You can come down, Ironhead.” Will backed away from the opening and then stood, fingers combing through his short hair. 

“I’m going to climb down, and then we’ll bring you down the same way I pulled you up, alright? Two of us, it’ll be easier.” He leaned in, his eyes locked with yours. “He needs to see that you’re alright, so you need to be ready as soon as -”

“I understand.” You lowered yourself into a sitting position, staring up at him. “Be careful climbing down, Will.” 

He assured you that he would, and then after unhooking the platform from the roof and letting it drop through the opening, Will disappeared down through the trapdoor, the gun still tucked securely into his waistband. You leaned forward and looked beneath you, watching as he made his way down the ladder to where Frankie was standing. They talked for a few seconds, Will holding a hand up to keep Frankie at a distance, but you didn’t see defensive posture in either of them before Frankie looked up and met your gaze. 

You saw what you could only describe as fear in his eyes, and with shock, realized that for two months in a row - ever since you’d met - he’d spent the morning after the full moon worrying about you. This can’t keep happening. I can’t be the reason he feels like this. We need to find this wolf. 

He joined Will near the rope, and when the platform appeared again, you positioned it and secured it so that you could climb on, swearing when you moved your leg to get it situated. You tugged on the rope to let them know that you were ready, and when you began the journey down to where the two men were, you steeled yourself for what was to come. 

You were shocked at the amount of blood on the ground, your eyes moving over the semi-dried puddles and splashes, following the trail to where it disappeared into the woods. There was a second one that followed your path to the blind, but that one was smaller. That means he got the wolf good. You don’t bleed like that if it’s just a graze. 

Frankie dropped to his knees as soon as you hit the ground, and before you could say a word, he had his hands on you, the man’s touch gentle as he assessed the extent of your injures with his eyes and hands. “Are you alright?” Will stayed quiet and so did you, even as you nodded, but when Frankie reached your leg - and then your injury, his entire body going rigid, you knew it was time to speak up.

“It clawed me. Will took care of it. I wasn’t bitten. It hurts, but it feels better than it did, and -”

“I’m going to fucking kill this goddamn wolf.” His fingers hovered over the bandage, Frankie’s breathing fast as he stared at you. “I’m going to find out who it is and I’m going to rip its goddamn throat out.” You’d never heard him sound so angry, and even though it scared you, there was a part of you that was responding to Frankie’s promises in a very different way. Who wouldn’t? “What happened? Why were you outside?” 

He looked at you first, head shaking back and forth. He’s going to be so disappointed. “It was my fault. I left the gun on the ground and circled the fire pit. I wasn’t even thinking.” 

“She was making you a video, ‘Fish. We both fell asleep in the RV and then she went outside, and the next thing I knew, she was screaming for me.” You leaned into Frankie’s touch, his palm curved against your jaw, thumb moving over your cheek in a slow, steady arc. “I had no shot at first. It was … she was between me and it, and I couldn’t risk her moving.” 

“It came out of the woods and ran straight at me.” You swallowed hard, maintaining eye contact with Frankie. “I reached for the gun and didn’t have it. I knew it wasn’t you. I was ready to shoot it.” Shaking your head, you chewed on your lower lip for a few more seconds before saying anything else. “It was playing with me, Frankie. It charged like it was going to plow into me, but at the last second, it pulled back and just … swiped.” 

He looked down at your leg - the first time he’d averted his eyes from your face since he’d locked his gaze on you. “It didn’t try to bite you?” You shook your head no. “Fuck. I should have stayed. I shouldn’t have run.” 

“Will hurt it, Frankie.” You reached up, covering his hand with yours and easing it away from your face. “He shot it. And there’s so much blood, it had to have been hurt bad, so -”

“Apparently, I hurt it for the second month in a row.” Will cleared his throat and you and Frankie both looked up. You felt his fingers curl beneath yours, but before Frankie could speak, Will continued. “It slipped. She told me about why she’s here and what happened last month.” 

“Shit.” Frankie hung his head. “Oh, shit.” 

“It’s fine.” You sighed, the sound turning into a short laugh. “It’s better that people know. They were going to find out sooner or later.”

“I get it, ‘Fish.” Will moved closer, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re protecting your girl. You’re protecting yourself. I would have done the same.” 

Neither you or Frankie corrected Will’s label on your relationship, and for the first time, you realized that you didn’t need to. Because I think I am his girl. And I like the way that sounds. “We should get you inside, Frankie. Get you something to drink, and some clothes, and -”

“I’m staying with you.” He rolled his shoulders back and for the first time, you stared at him and saw the way he looked in the early morning light. His skin was dirty, curls tangled atop his head, and his face was even more stubbled than usual. It suits him. Somehow, it … 

“You two go ahead and go back inside. I’m going to follow the trail and then clean up out here.” He gestured to the clearing, shrugging. “Gotta rake over the blood, get the blind secured … you know the drill.” 

“Help me up?” You tugged on Frankie’s hand. “I’ll come inside with you. I can clean everything up in there while you shower.” He looked like he wanted to argue with you, but instead, Frankie did help you to your feet and then looped an arm around you to give you some support. “That alright, Will?”

“Yes.” He nodded, lips curving upward briefly as he watched you. “That’s fine.” 

You left him behind as you and Frankie slowly made your way back to the RV and then inside, closing the door behind you. 

Your leg hurt, the ibuprofen doing little to dull the ache, but you didn’t want to tell Frankie. He needs to keep his routine. He needs to go shower and - “Are you really alright?” He spoke quietly, leaning against the edge of the counter and crossing his arms. “Because -”

“I am.” You sat at the table, resting your hands on the surface. “There were a couple seconds where I didn’t think I had a chance, but …” Looking down at your hands, you swallowed hard. “But I’m fine. Won’t be walking a whole lot for the next couple days, but it could have been a lot worse.” It almost was a lot worse. “Go shower. I’ll get stuff packed up so we can leave when you’re done.” 

“Will knowing means everyone is going to know.” He said your name, tone serious. “Benny won’t be a big deal, but Tom… he might not… he doesn’t like liars.” 

“I’m not afraid of Tom.” You pushed yourself to your feet, angling your body toward Frankie. “We had a valid reason not to say anything. It’s not like I knew when I reached out. I -” Lowering your head, you closed your eyes. “I should have told you sooner. Maybe then Alec wouldn’t have gotten attacked or -”

“No.” Frankie stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms around you, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “You did everything right. And it was my decision not to tell anyone, not yours. So if Tom’s gonna be pissed he can be pissed at me.” 

Even though Frankie smelled like the forest - leaves and dirt and sweat - you didn’t want to let him go. Pulling away enough that you could look up at him, you slid your hand along the back of his neck, urging him closer. “Frankie, pl-”

“Stop.” It was the first time he’d denied you, and you saw resolve in his eyes. “I’m not going to kiss you until I shower and brush my teeth.” He held you tighter, and you saw him struggling to keep his word. “Not after spending a night in the woods.” You wrinkled your nose at that, Frankie’s words reminding you of exactly what he’d been doing for the previous hours. 

He let you go moments later, squeezing your arm and then disappearing down the hall and into the small bathroom, his bag over one shoulder.

It took you longer than it would have without an injured leg, but you could still hear the shower running by the time you’d changed clothes, packed all of your stuff up and were ready to go. Will was still raking the clearing, and you could see that he was almost done. You figured that he’d finish just about when Frankie did. Good. That means we can go home soon. 

 You watched him through the window, Will meticulously obscuring the evidence that anything had happened the previous night. I should have taken pictures of the blood. I should have followed it into the woods just to see - 

“You still want that kiss?” Frankie’s arms wound around you from behind, the man resting his chin on your shoulder. “Because my mouth doesn’t taste like I’ve been drinking pond water all night anymore.” 

You turned before he was even finished, nodding. “Fuck yes I do.” He laughed, but you cut the sound off with the press of your lips to his, the fingers of one hand tangled in his damp curls. 

There was no hesitation on your part. 

You didn’t care that he’d been a literal wolf an hour earlier. You were unbothered by the fact that he’d likely done things overnight that no human should have even considered. The only thing you were focused on was the way he held you and the way he kissed you, one large hand splayed out against your back and the other cradling your skull. 

“I thought it got you.” He mumbled the words between kisses, voice low. “You and Ironhead, and -”

“It didn’t.” You pressed your forehead to his. “We got him. And he’s hurt, Frankie. This isn’t like Ashley biting him. I don’t know how fast you heal if you’re hurt as a wolf, but -”

“Will shot him with silver, so …” Frankie kissed you again, mouth soft as it pressed against yours. “So until he gets that out, or unless it went straight through, it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker. And if he couldn’t get it out before he turned back into a human, he’ll heal like a human.” 

You hadn’t even considered that, but it made sense. He’d heal faster as a wolf, but as a human it’s just … oh, damn. “I hope you don’t know that from experience.” 

“Not a gunshot, no. And never silver. But other injures have followed that pattern.” He sighed and then yawned, groaning. “I -”

“D’you think that the two of you could finish that somewhere else?” Will interrupted you, the man standing just inside the door with both hands on his hips. “I’m fuckin’ exhausted and I still have to drive us home.” 

In spite of everything, you laughed at his words, Frankie following suit shortly after. “Yes, Will.” You swiped at your face with one hand, the laugh turning into a yawn. “Since you asked so nicely.” 

— 

 Will dropped the two of you off at Frankie’s, promising that he wouldn’t say anything about the previous night until you’d had time to rest. Frankie thanked him, but hadn’t said much else before heading straight into his kitchen and downing glass after glass of cold water, his back to you and covered only in a thin t-shirt. 

You didn’t know what to say, or where to begin, but Frankie took care of that for you, twisting the water off and then turning back to face you with his arms crossed. “I put you in danger. You being there with me was -”

“No, me being there with Will was what saved my life.” You made your way to him, trying not to wince when you put weight on your injured leg. “Don’t do this. Don’t try and paint this situation like you put me in fucking danger when I’ve never felt safer than I do when I’m around your friends or you in either form.” You stopped inches away from him, bracing your weight on the counter. “I was where I wanted to be. I am where I want to be. So don’t give me the bullshit about pulling away to save me, because that’s exactly what it is. Bullshit.” 

He looked surprised at your outburst, but you meant every word. “You could have been killed. You could have been bitten, and I honestly don’t fucking know which would be worse.” That hurt - and for the first time, you flinched away from him. 

“I wasn’t. I’ll be fine in a few days. It’ll probably scar, but Jesus, Frankie, it was worth it. I know what it looks like now. It’s hurt. It was limping when it ran across the clearing at me, which means that Ashley fucked it up. And now Will did, too. That’s two months in a row that it wasn’t successful in attacking anyone. And that means it’s going to be pissed. And that means it’s going to get sloppy.” 

Your words had an impact - you saw the look in his eyes change as you spoke, anger turning to understanding. I’m right and you know it. “I was fucking terrified. I came back and I smelled blood. I saw blood. Neither of you were in the camper, and I knew it was another wolf. I thought …”

“I know.” You closed the distance, winding your arms around his neck. “I know what you thought. But I’m right here. I’m fine, Francisco.” Twisting a curl around one finger, you tugged on it. “If you’re not too tired, I can give you a demonstration of just how fine I really am.”

“That’s not fair.” He finally smiled, his grin a welcome change - and enough of a switch in demeanor to make you sigh in relief. “You’re gonna make me say no to you?”

“I’m not going to make you do anything.” You leaned in, running your nose alongside his and then kissing him on the corner of his mouth. “But I know you’ve got to be exhausted, so you can always take a raincheck.” 

“I think I’m going to have to.” He groaned, turning his head so that he could kiss you, his mouth pressed to yours as he replied. “I can barely stand up.” That didn’t stop him from kissing you again, though, Frankie’s tongue teasing against the seam of your lips briefly before you parted them for him. He encircled you with his arms, hauling you even closer, and you let him, the edges of your nails digging into his back, and the fingers of your other hand tangling in his hair. 

“Then let’s get you to bed.” You paused long enough to take a breath, teeth closing around his lower lip and tugging once you’d spoken. “I could lay down, too.” Frankie’s smile was small but you felt it, and he pushed off of the counter, urging you toward the hallway. “You can go ahead of me. I have to walk slow, it -”

“No.” He spun you slowly so that your back was to his chest, and then kept his hands at your waist. “Together. I don’t want to let you out of my goddamn sight.” 

It was overkill, and you knew it - and you thought he did too. But I won’t complain. 

You both paused just inside his doorway, Frankie stepping next to you and letting out a weary sigh. “I’ve never been so happy to see my goddamn bed.” 

“Not even after South America?” Raising an eyebrow, you turned your head to look at him. “Will told me you guys were there a hell of a long time.” 

“We were.” He pulled his shirt off, tossing it toward the hamper. “And I guess you’ve got me there. We got home and I slept for two days straight. I’m pretty sure Becca thought I fuckin’ died.” He undid the button on his pants, sliding them down and then throwing them to the side, too. “But you get my point.” Frankie raised both arms above his head, stretching. “You gonna wear all those clothes to bed?”

You eyed him, letting your gaze rake over every inch of exposed skin. You’d looked at every opportunity, but that morning, it felt different. That wolf is inside of him. It’s … it shouldn’t be possible, but … Reaching out, you dragged your fingertips down the center of his chest, closing your eyes at the warmth of his skin. It’s all him, though. And I wouldn’t want to change any of it. “No. I guess I’m not.” 

His hands moved to the lower hem of your shirt, and when he tugged it upward, you raised your arms to help him. He made quick work of it, and when you went to remove your pants, you felt his hands skating down and over your sides. “You’re here. You’re still -”

“I am.” You swallowed, a shaky breath escaping a few seconds later. “He didn’t get me that -”

“No. I mean after you saw what happens… what I am, you’re still here. With me.” It broke your heart that even after he’d witnessed your response to his transformation - after he’d been able to sense the way you felt about it, he’d still doubted that you’d want to be close to him. “You’re not afraid, and you don’t think it’s disgusting, and -”

“Frankie, stop.” Using two fingers, you pressed the tips of them to his lips. “I understand you worrying, but if you really thought that that’s how I’d respond, then you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.” He sucked in a breath, staring at you. “I want you, and everything that comes with it. Still. I know what I’m getting into. It’s going to take more than that to get rid of me.” He smiled at that, and when you saw his expression soften, you moved to pull your hand away. “But.” 

“But … what?” Frankie’s eyes flicked downward and then met yours again, his shoulders set. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t want you to lie to me about how much it hurts you. You said changing was unpleasant, but c’mon, ‘Fish. Don’t lie to me about being in pain.” Gesturing to your leg, you laughed. “I’m certainly not going to lie and tell you this doesn’t hurt. I’m not going to think less of you because you admit that your bones literally rearranging themselves hurts when you turn into a giant wolf and back.” 

“Complaining about it doesn’t change shit.” He moved his thumbs over your abdomen, shaking his head. “I’ve just got to deal with it.”

“Maybe with them.” You bit your lip. “But not with me, alright?” It took a few seconds but he finally nodded before pulling you into a tight hug. You nuzzled against the side of his neck, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. It was stupid - and you knew it - but being so close to him made the previous hours and your attack seem less scary. No less serious, though. 

“We need to get into that bed.” You mumbled the words without backing off, and Frankie’s hold on you tightened. “Do you have a towel I can put under my leg? I don’t want to bleed on your bed, and I might if -”

“If Ironhead bandaged that, it’s not going to bleed.” Frankie straightened up. “He knows his shit.” That made you snort, but when Frankie took your hand and guided you to the bed, you went with him, taking it slowly. He got in first and you followed, getting situated under the blankets with your back to his chest. 

He held you close, carefully hooking a leg over your uninjured one, and as you both went quiet, you finally let yourself relax. All things considered, ending the morning wrapped in Frankie’s arms was as good an outcome as you could have hoped for. The shitstorm is coming, but for now… You scooted back even further, Frankie’s arm tightening. For now, this works. 

—

[pedroshotwifey]

Hungry Like The...

Pairing: Werewolf!Frankie Morales x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags/Warnings: Smut, PIV sex, oral sex (f receiving), fluff, established relationship, no use of y/n, Frankie has a monster cock, im missing stuff but I want to go to bed so...

Summary: You and Frankie decide to attend an 80s themed Halloween party. Through all of the excitement, you must have forgotten what day the full moon falls on.

A/N: I'm gonna go ahead and say that I rushed the absolute fuck out of this one, but I think it turned out pretty good. I really kind of jumped outside of my comfort zone with this, so I'm kinda proud that I did that. That being said, please feel free to call me out on anything that might not make sense or anything that I should change at all because I'm half clueless with this kind of stuff. Please consider reposting and/or liking. Thank you for reading and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! <3

***

You have no idea where Frankie snuck off too. 

He claimed he was going to get the two of you more drinks, but that was about ten minutes ago. You’re well aware that it should have taken less than half of that for him to find his way to the refreshment table, pick up some drinks, and bring them back to you. 

Right now, though, you’re too blissed out to care—not that you have much to worry about with your loving boyfriend anyway. The lights are almost blinding as you spin around beneath them, but they transform into a nice glow thanks to the buzz you’re sporting. “Mony Mony,” is blaring through the speakers and you're in your zone as you swing your hips to the beat. 

You’re glad that Frankie had suggested that you two attend this party specifically. The only requirements were that you had to dress up as an 80’s character in order to fit the era the party revolves around. 80’s costumes, 80’s music, 80’s decor. Luckily for you, the 80’s is one of your absolute favorite decades, and you’re pretty sure Frankie knew that when he signed the two of you up. 

The dance floor is packed with people to the point where you can’t stretch out all the way without bumping into someone. Usually, that would irk you, but you can’t find it in you to mind tonight. It’s not like anybody else does. 

As you snap your hips to the beat, you look around at all the different costumes in the crowd. You see a handful of Star Wars characters, a couple of Freddy Kruegers, some Ghost Busters, and—of course—a shit ton of Madonnas. The rest, for the most part, are pretty original. 

You’re pretty proud of your own costume, to be honest. You had spent a couple of weeks configuring a custom-made Storm costume. You’ve been an X-Men fan for as long as you can remember, and it made you so happy to try on your costume for the first time a few days ago. It’s pretty damn spot-on. 

Frankie, on the other hand, had insisted on being a werewolf. Like turning into one once a month wasn’t enough already. You had simply rolled your eyes and asked him what he had in mind so you could make his costume. It was worth it to see the way he lit up, even though he’s cutting it close with the party’s theme. 

After the year he had, he deserves to be happy—even if it means you have to endure his stupid jokes every now and again. When he gets tipsy, his goofy humor always makes an appearance. It’s one of your favorite parts about nights out with your boyfriend. He never fails to make you laugh. 

Just as you begin to worry that he might have gotten lost in the crowd, you feel a hand spin you around. You’re getting ready to tell someone off until you come face to face with those irresistible brown eyes. 

“Hey there, Hermosa,” he says as he cuddles up to you, swaying you to the song. “Having fun, sweetheart?” 

You giggle as he bends down and nuzzles his face into your neck. Glancing down, you almost aren’t surprised to see that he doesn’t have any drinks. 

“Frankie?” You ask casually as you throw your arms around him. 

“Hmm?” 

“Did you find the drinks?” 

Suddenly, he stops moving and stands up straight again, a playful smile plastered across his face. 

“Guess not,” he says. “Found something to eat, though,” he winks and you playfully roll your eyes as he throws himself back onto you. As the song changes to “When Doves Cry”, he begins to dance with you. Frankie has never been the best dancer, but it's better this way. Neither of you take anything seriously as you push and pull your bodies together, giving eachother flirty kisses every now and again. 

You laugh as you bump into someone and flash them an apologetic look. Frankie really loves to bring out your careless side. You honestly didn’t know you were capable of being so care-free until you had met him. Sometimes he makes you feel as if nothing else matters but you and him. It’s times like these that you really realize just how lucky you are to have him. 

“Alright, baby,” Frankie says after a moment, bringing you out of your thoughts. “I’m going to go get us those drinks now.” 

Instead of answering him, you get up on your tip-toes and kiss him. He begins to wrap his arms around you again, but you gently push him off, giving him a faux stern look. 

“Alright, alright, I get it, baby, I’m going!” he says over the music before turning around to scamper away.

You have to suppress a giggle when he jolts as you deliver a light slap to his ass. He turns just enough to flash you a dirty look, and you give him one of feigned innocence in return, well aware he’ll get you back for that eventually if you continue to tease. 

“Hurry up, wolfboy!” you shout after him. 

***

Alright, you’re actually about to be pissed this time. 

There’s absolutely no way he lost you—or rather, you lost him—twice. He has to be playing with you, right? Whatever, if that’s the case, two can play at that game. 

You’ll just pretend like you don’t even notice something is missing. Maybe once he sees you where he left you, completely unaffected by his absence, he’ll stop being such an ass. 

Perfect. Perfect plan. 

You shake your head and dance as the song ends. You can have fun by yourself if your boyfriend wants to be immature. 

Well, it would have been a perfect plan. 

As if he could somehow read your mind—which you almost wouldn’t doubt at this point—you spot Frankie in your vision once again. However, this time, he’s not coming over to you. 

He has a familiar dark look in his eyes that immediately soaks you, despite yourself. You stop dancing because as quick as you see him, he’s gone again. You spin in a panicked circle as the song changes to one by Duran Duran. You almost laugh at the irony as “Hungry Like the Wolf” blares through the speakers. 

Your phone buzzes in the small pocket of your bodysuit, and you pause your quick search to look at it. Your brow furrows as you see that it’s a text from Frankie. What the fuck is he playing at? Quickly, you unlock your phone and open your messages. 

“Better start running, baby,” the text reads. You look up, your eyes frantically scanning the crowd around you. Maybe the song choice isn’t so ironic after all. 

“Don’t let me catch you… feeling hungry like the wolf tonight…”

You don’t stop to think before you make a mad dash toward the exit, your heart dropping to your stomach as you go. You get some pissed looks as you shove through people, your heart hammering in your chest and your eyes darting every which way. 

You have no idea where he could be at this point. Maybe he’s somewhere inside, having missed your exit. He could be trailing right behind you, ready to grab you at any moment.

Soon enough, it is revealed that he is, once again, always one step ahead of you. As soon as you step out of the doors, a large body is engulfing yours and carrying you to a secluded spot on the patio, though there’s nobody outside anyway. 

You would scream if not for the large hand that covers your lips when he grabs you. You know it’s Frankie, of course, but the exhilaration that comes from the scare really adds to the game the two of you just started. 

You ignore the heat simmering between your legs as he sets you down on your own feet and removes his hand from your mouth. Neither of you move, you don’t look up, he doesn’t crouch down. You just stand there, breathing heavily as Frankie embraces your figure. 

You can’t help but lean back into him, letting your guard down probably isn’t the best idea right now, but you can’t find it in you to care about that fact at the moment. 

The fresh air feels nice on your heated cheeks, but Frankie's front against your back feels even better. The music continues to play faintly behind you as you sway side to side, Frankie’s arms wrapped tightly around you, his head resting on your shoulder. 

You swear you could stay here forever. Actually, you could stay anywhere, as long as you had Frankie. But right now, you can’t imagine anything more perfect than this. As long as you have your boyfriend’s arms around you, you would do anything or go anywhere he wants to. 

Your body may be his, but you decided a long time ago that your soul belongs to him as well. He can pick it up and do whatever he wishes with it, and you know he could never do anything that would cause your trust or love for him to dull.

“Look up, sweetheart,” Frankie’s soft voice brings you out of your thoughts, making you open your eyes. You hadn’t realized they had slid shut in the first place. 

The sight of the full moon high up in the night sky confirms your suspicions. Frankie’s going to turn tonight. 

Fuck, you’re screwed, your subconscious automatically screams at you. 

You can't miss the way your panties dampen as the thought crosses your mind. Your body stiffens as you fight the urge to run, the adrenaline getting the best of you.

Frankie must feel the way you tense up because his arms immediately tighten around you. 

“It’s alright, hermosa,” he whispers into your ear. “Just means we’ll have a bit more fun than usual.”

You try but fail to stifle your grin at his menacing tone. Just because you know you’re screwed doesn’t mean you don't enjoy it. 

“Probably got less than ten minutes now,” Frankie says far too casually. “Let’s pick up on our little chase, yeah?” 

He lets you out of his grasp this time, and you turn around to give him a peck on his cheek, allowing your hand to brush past his erection as you pull away. The touch is just enough for Frankie to grit his teeth as he hisses out. The warning glance he gives you makes arousal burn deep into your core, only serving to make you more excited. 

“I’ll give you a head start, sweetheart,” he says, his tone giving you a warning, “I’d take it if I were you.”

With his word, you spin on your heel, ready to plummet into the forest, but you only get about a foot before he has a large hand wrapped around your wrist. Your heart beats louder in your chest as you turn to look at him, his eyes dark with lust. 

“Don’t let me catch you this time,” he says, pulling you close enough for his lips to flutter across your ear as he speaks. “I won’t go easy on you.”

You ignore the shiver in your spine as you pull back as much as you can. 

“Maybe I don't want you to go easy on me,” you whisper back, earning a slight growl from Frankie. He lets his hand linger on you for only a moment more before letting go, this time allowing you to back away. 

“Don’t push yourself too hard then, because I’m going to fucking exaust you when I catch up.” 

You smile before turning once again, pushing yourself into the trees without looking back. 

***

The sound of your heartbeat is deafening as you run through the otherwise silent forest. The steady pitter-patter of the organ combined with your ragged breathing and your frantic footsteps make a horrifying symphony. Even those sounds seem muffled, though, with the amount of pure adrenaline that courses through your veins and drowns out your senses. 

Frankie can’t be too far behind you now. You guess you’ve been running for about fifteen minutes. There’s no doubt that he has turned at this point; he proved it with the howl you heard bellowing through the woods a couple minutes ago. 

Since then, you haven't stopped to take a breath. There is pure fear in the fact that you have a beast on your trail, but also excitement in knowing what will likely happen once he catches up. 

For now though, fear is the dominant emotion. It’s prominent enough to keep you going even as your hair gets tugged by branches and your skin gets scratched and torn by twigs and thorns. None of it seems to matter right now just as long as you can keep your distance from the monster hunting you down. 

Suddenly, you hear a snap from somewhere behind you. The noise is sharp, a twig snapping beneath heavy weight. It reverberates all around you, sending a shiver down your spine. Soon after, You pick up on the steady thumping of what sounds to be an animal hot on your tail. 

The sound gets closer and closer even as you push yourself to run faster. Your entire body is shaking and you can feel tears welling up in your eyes. You can practically feel Frankie’s breath on your neck, the sensation almost more powerful than the ache overtaking your legs and abdomen. 

“Please, leave me alone!” You cry out the plea over your shoulder, your voice bordering a sob. Your gut is curling with a mixture of panic and arousal. The responding growl makes the tears you have been holding spill over and your knees buckle. 

For a second, you’re worried that you might fall, but you’re pushed into the ground before you have the chance to do it yourself. The weight of Frankie pouncing on top of you knocks the wind out of you, a sharp cry leaving your lips as your breath is taken. 

In the time that it takes you to get your breath back, Frankie has your bodysuit torn enough to pry off of your shaking body, and your lacy panties shoved–or ripped–down your legs. Luckily, the bodysuit was the cheapest and easiest to find component of your costume. You can feel a whisper of his claws against your skin as he drags scraps away from where he needs you most.

Your arms flail wildly, your fingers trying to grasp a handful of fur from the beast atop you. Frankie sees what you’re trying to do, and with a growl, he ducks down and slides toward your feet, away from your hands. 

Before you can question what he’s doing, you feel something thick, wet, and warm against your bare, soaked cunt. 

A high pitched moan tumbles from your lips as Frankie drags his tongue across your pussy before dipping it into your core.

The hot muscle digs deep into your cunt, curling once it's in all the way. You can feel his nose bobbing up and down against your ass as he starts to work his tongue in and out of your cunt.

“F-Frankie, fuck!” You scream, feeling your orgasm building embarrassingly quickly.

The way his tongue swirls and scrapes against your walls is absolutely delicious, and that combined with the tip of the muscle prodding against your g-spot? You’re fucking done for. 

You’re writhing as Frankie brings his tongue out to swallow down the slick he’s collected, and you can feel the way a combination of your arousal and his saliva leaks out of your pulsing cunt, coming down to collect at your clit and make you shudder. You’re so close to coming, a warm feeling that can only be described as pure euphoria making a home deep in your lower abdomen. 

Almost as soon as he was gone, Frankie shoves his tongue back inside of you, meticulously prodding all the right places. You’re gasping and moaning so loud you have half the mind to feel bad for whatever critters might reside in these woods. 

That thought passes quickly, though, once you feel yourself returning to the edge. Frankie flicks his tongue one more time and you’re suddenly convulsing around him. The high seems to go on forever, your toes curling and your fingers grasping at the leafy ground in front of you. 

The beast doesn’t pull away as you come, instead, he allows you to rock your hips back and forth in order to prolong your pleasure for as long as possible. You don’t even notice that you moved your arm until you feel one hand entangled in soft fur, your subconscious mind telling you to hold him to you. 

You hear Frankie whine from behind you and you have to suppress the urge to giggle. He’s always liked it when you tug at his hair, and apparently, being in this form leaves no room for exceptions. 

Your body goes limp as Frankie backs away from you, making it easy for him to nudge you to prop you up where he wants you. Hands and knees, of course. He wastes no time in getting into position behind you, crowding you in with his massive form. 

The tip of his cock feels massive against your swollen cunt, but it only takes a few swipes of the beast’s hips before he is notched into your entrance. With one more thrust, he’s pushing in all the way, making you scream as your pussy stretches to accommodate his girth. 

Frankie lets out a series of whimpers as he starts a brutal pace, not giving you a second to adjust. Your hands come up to grasp above his paws, which are positioned on either side of your head, and then up a little. 

“F-Frankie!” Your moan comes out more like a screech, the pain quickly turning into a sick pleasure as he rips you open on his cock. Each time he thrusts, it’s accompanied by a puff of breath which fans out across your cheek. 

The sound of his whines and ragged breathing mix with the squelching noises coming from your cunt and the panting coming from your lips, everything combined making the filthiest symphony you’ve ever heard. 

Your second orgasm starts to build rapidly, your cunt beginning to flutter around Frankie’s unforgiving length. With each punch, the tip of his cock touches something heavenly within you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

You’re pretty sure you’re drooling, but you find that every limb has turned to jelly, preventing you from bringing your hand up to check. If not for the monster above you impaling you on his length, you would likely be flat on the forest floor right now. 

Every thought that had previously occupied your mind is forced out of you as Frankie effortlessly pries another orgasm from you. He doesn’t slow or pause as you squeeze around his cock like a vice. If anything, it only spurs him on and gets him going faster, if that's even possible. 

With each slam of his hips, you feel your body being sent forward, only stabilized by your palms, which are somehow still firmly planted on the ground. 

‘Oh god, Frankie,” your voice sounds hazy to your own ears. “F-feels so fucking good, Francisco.”

You hear him grunt at the sound of his full name, something you usually only call him in bed—or in this case, in the middle of nowhere. 

It does feel good, his cock feels absolutely massive. You know that it is definitely bigger than when he’s in his human form—the size of which should be considered supernatural in it’s own way. Right now, though, he feels bigger than ever, thicker, longer. The only thought occupying your mind at the moment is how badly you want to suck his cock. 

How the fuck does this man fuck you so good to the point where you fantasize about giving him a blowjob while he’s already inside of you? Next time, you’ll have to get his dick in your mouth before he shoves it into your cunt. 

Your eyes droop as your second orgasm morphs into a third, your body growing weaker with each movement from Frankie. You ignore the shaking to spread your legs wider to allow him better access, which results in him getting to a deeper spot with the new angle. 

Your mouth drops open as you begin to come again, a silent scream getting stuck in your throat. This time, as you constrict around his monstrous cock, you can feel his hips stutter. He’s getting close, which is probably a good thing considering you’re about to pass out from both pleasure and exhaustion. 

“C-come on, Frankie, f-fill me up,” you command through moans. It very obviously eggs him on because before you know it, he’s stilling inside of you, howling into the trees, and blowing his massive load deep into your core. 

The feeling of his cum painting your walls is fucking heavenly. Spurt after spurt of his warm seed fills you to the brim until it eventually starts to seep out around the base of his cock. If you thought you had felt full before, that was nothing compared to now. 

Frankie gives you a few minutes to calm down before he starts to lower himself to the ground, laying on his side and tugging you with him. Your body and mind are equally compliant with his request. 

As your eyes shut once again, you can feel Frankie starting to shift behind you, probably making his transformation back to his human form. Try as you might, you know you won’t have enough energy to wait for him to be done, so you make the most of it and snuggle into his soft fur. You know that you’ll wake up safe and sound in your bed, tangled with your kind, attentive, and very much human boyfriend.

[yandere-wishes]

Monster High Taglist

It's going to be a while before this fic is out. But you guys know the drill. Let me know in the comments if you want to be tagged.

[juletheghoul]

a/n: I saw a post a few weeks ago (if anyone sees it please send it to me and I'll tag it) about a partner turning into a monster little by little and becoming increasingly aggressive and this came to me. Hope you enjoy! 🩷🩷

warnings: a little bite, mentions of sex, language (let me know if I missed anything)

Frankie x f!reader

-

It was only a scratch.

The dog had come out of nowhere, scared him half to death but he’d managed to get away before it bit his leg off. Big fucker, biggest dog he’d ever fucking seen but he’d gotten away. Had gotten in his car and driven the fuck away.

It was only a scratch.

It healed without issue, but he still felt it. The ghost of sharp, yellow teeth gouging out a tiny bit of the skin of his shin. It followed him throughout the week, every day a little more visceral, a little more corporeal.

It was only a scratch.

He dreams about the dog, it haunts him in his sleep. It stalks him as he lays in bed, the one place he cannot get away. The dog is a spectre as the days go by, an omen at the edge of his vision and it slowly heats his blood. It cooks him from the inside and he swears he’s never been so fucking angry in all his life.

It was only a scratch.

Aggression grows, and he’s almost a different person. You notice it, it’s so blatant. The sweet, soft man you’d fallen in love with is hidden behind the curtain of his eyes. He’s still in there, somewhere but as the days turn into weeks, it’s harder and harder to find him.

It was only a scratch.

There’s no more lovemaking. He fucks. He rails and makes you take everything he has to give. He gives you his anger and his terrifying devotion, and as far away as his eyes get you’ve never been wetter. It’s so good, it’s so rough, it’s so fucking consuming you think he might eat you alive.

It was only a scratch.

He disappeared for three days. The moon is full, but your bed is empty and something in you is frozen with fear. He’s never been gone like this, your Frankie has never just left without an explanation. Something howls outside while you worry about him in bed and the sound is so sad, it raises the hairs on the back of your neck.

It was only a scratch.

He comes back and it’s like the sun touches your face for the first time because it’s him. The real him. The smiley, soft, caring man you love and you’re so happy you forget all of the worry, all of the strangeness and bask in the safety of his arms. He keeps touching his shin, rubbing at a spot under his sweats.

“Everything okay?” You ask him.

“Yes, it’s only a scratch.”

-

[teamghoulstudiosmx]

monster high GX project - G3 height comparison with GX

A comparison of the heights of G3 with GX

The versions of Monster High G3 will be used for an episode where the ghouls of the GX universe will help them with a problem with a kaiju