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zstartrixxx · 29 days ago

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𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍’ 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍’ (𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑨𝑲𝑬 𝑬𝑨𝑺𝒀!)

ʳᵒʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵈᵉ ˣ ᶠᵉᵐꜝʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: 𝐘𝐄𝐒 | 𝐍𝐎

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: [...] "Nuh-uh. Shut up. Let me ride you real nice, but shut up." You smirked, retrieving the discarded bandana and tying it over his mouth like a gag. [...] or To show your unwavering support for this cowboy, you decide to gently demonstrate just why he's the best damn rider in La Belle—hell, in the whole damn territory. 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: so, this request was extra special 'cause i’ve been dying to write roy goode fanfic for ages—he’s yet another one of those fascinating characters from jackie: sweet, shy, even though he’s a goddamn gunslinger, somehow still manages to be a soft, angelic little weirdo doing his own thing—AAAAARGH *bites fingers while kicking feet*. if you haven’t watched GODLESS, let me just say: WATCH IT!!! it’s on netflix, the plot is addictive, the female characters steal the show, and goode is so goddamn perfect it HURTS!!! 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: +18 ADULT CONTENT. a lil' of fluffy and smut: fingering, cowgirl (trad & reverse), dirty talk, kind!roy, kinda a dom!reader. (i'm really bad to tagging, i'm learning how to does this properly ;) 𝐖𝐂: 2.6k for whoever is going to read it, a great read! <3 likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

ROY GOODE PLAYLIST (not yet) | ��𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳

"you say it's big, but you take it! ride cowgirl, but your love ain't free no more, baby." (pyramids, frank ocean)

A thick trail of dust followed the heavy gallop of the black steed. Gripping the brushed leather reins tightly in his hands as he rode hard over the sheepskin-covered saddle, Roy Goode kept his bloodshot, tear-filled eyes fixed on the road ahead—the blood radiating the adrenaline coursing through his body, the tears those of sheer exhaustion. He'd been tracking Griffin for at least two, nearly three weeks now, trying to drive him away from La Belle and its outskirts, terrified the worst might happen: not just the devastation and carnage that always followed his false father, but the imminent danger of you becoming that bastard's target.

Even though you'd learned to shoot and ride better than him, his protective instincts—coupled with the trauma of facing loneliness again in this godless world—compelled him to take the reins of his horse, give you one long farewell kiss, leave a handwritten letter filled with all the affection and vocabulary he'd gleaned from the almanacs and books you'd lent him (tucked beneath your pillow), grab his black-handled pistol, and hunt down his tormentor.

Roy wore a red bandana around his face—a gift from you—covering half of it, the other half hidden beneath his black hat, velvet with a leather strap at its base. Dressed head to toe in black, he carried that mysterious, dangerous aura people judged him for having. He let out a scornful chuckle beneath the fabric, its edges fluttering with his horse's rhythm as its pace began to slow, stopping at the entrance of the small town where, by dusk, most residents had already retreated into their homes.

Winn crossed Roy's path, bringing him to a halt. He gave a nod, his pistols on full display, grinning smugly:

"Goode. Any news on those outlaws? Managed to shoot 'em in the ass yet?"

"All I can say is we're safe for now, Winn..." Roy hissed from behind the bandana, tipping his hat at the young man, who mirrored the gesture before patting his horse.

"Alright, Goode. You did right coming back. Folks've missed you somethin' fierce..." He shot an amused glance toward the schoolhouse you'd taken over after Callie Dunne left for a quieter life away from La Belle's chaos—same as Mary Agnes, who'd packed her bags for New York.

Roy, grinning just as smugly, tried to deflect:

"Bill back yet?"

"Nah... Still holed up at Mrs. Fletcher's ranch," Winn shrugged, stepping back with hands on his narrow waist. "Ain't nobody can tame a lovestruck man's heart, Goode."

"I got my doubts," Roy snorted, nudging his stirrups and making his horse let out an agitated whinny as it trotted ahead, leaving the deputy sheriff eating dust.

Roy stopped near the schoolhouse entrance, where the last of the children were leaving, greeting "Mr. Goode" with excited giggles, thrilled to see him after weeks without a trace. He returned their enthusiasm with touches to his hat brim. Dismounting, he led his horse to the small pen with a makeshift stable he'd built behind the house—just big enough for his horses—and found his gray gelding resting in its corner. He gave it an affectionate pat before heading back to the door, his pulse quickening at the thought of seeing you again. Pausing before the double doors, he could hear soft humming through the wood. He dusted off his shoulders before stepping inside, already removing his hat but leaving the bandana out of habit.

You'd heard the door open and then be locked. Thinking it was a child who'd forgotten something, wondering why he heard her being locked, perhaps by mistake, you walked in with a gentle smile—only to freeze in shock at the sight of the man clad head to toe in black, the crimson bandana the only splash of color on him, staring at you. And just by his gaze, you knew everything he wanted to say. Roy smiled beneath the fabric, opening his arms for an embrace full of passion and longing. You leapt into him, wrapping your legs around his waist, exclaiming:

"Roy! You're finally back! God, I was starting to worry..." You cupped his face, your oceanic eyes searching his up close.

"Missed you like hell, darlin'—" His voice was muffled, making you laugh.

"Let's get this off..." You tugged the bandana down, exposing Goode's perfectly shaped lips, then held his face—the same hand that had just unmasked him—and kissed him tenderly. Roy carried you in his arms, bumping into a table leg, nearly tripping over a stray book on the floor—you both laughed at the clumsiness—before finally collapsing onto the purple velvet sofa. You settled atop his hips, palms flat against his narrow shoulders as Roy let out a long sigh against your lips, tilting his head back against the couch and tossing his hat aside.

"What's wrong, cowboy? How'd the hunt for that bastard go?"

"Went fine... I just—" He hesitated, shyly avoiding your hungry gaze. His large, calloused hands—worn from hard labor—rested on your waist. He smelled pleasantly of soap and fresh breath—likely stopped at an inn to clean up before coming to you, wanting to return presentable.

"You just...?" You encouraged, fingers tracing every detail of his face: the forehead creases beneath his fringe, the strong, upturned nose, the Cupid's bow lips that always made you feel struck by his arrows, the stubble pricking your skin, the warmth in his drained eyes.

"I... shit. I'm just... tired of this life, y'know? This endless chase after murderous outlaws, keepin' up this damn gunslinger legend, never knowin' if I'll make it back to you. It's messin' with my head, darlin'. Bad. Really fucking bad…"

You bit your lower lip, sudden pity swelling at his soft, accented voice—so unlike the man you knew. Adjusting yourself on his lap (your light pink cotton dress bunching around your hips), you cupped his face firmly:

"Roy Goode, you're the baddest sonuvabitch in this territory. Don't you dare feed me that defeated talk."

"It's just... ever since I lost my shot at Griffin and started patrolin' La Belle, promisin' folks freedom... I'm worn out, sweetheart. Real worn out." He closed his eyes again, lips twisting. You sighed, stroking his cheeks before pressing your forehead to his, whispering against his mouth:

"You'll kill that bastard yet. And that ain't a promise—it's fate. But even so, Roy, you're the goddamn best gunslinger in this whole damn town! The best!" You bounced slightly for emphasis, the movement making him groan beneath you. "In all these godless lands! And if there's one thing I can show you right now—besides makin' up for all this missin' you..." Your hands slid down his shoulders, intentions crystal clear in your hungry gaze and wicked smile. "...it's how much this cowboy here needs a good ride. Just to remind you you're this town's goddamn hero."

"Mhmm, that so?" he murmured, leaning into your touch. You grinned, already grinding against him, feeling his cock harden between your thighs.

"Yep. My favorite cowboy to ride." You laughed at your own silliness, earning a rough groan from him.

He was still fully dressed—pistols heavy in their holsters, leather belt digging into your thighs—but you couldn't care less, attacking his lips with desperate kisses, pouring weeks of longing into every movement. Roy matched your intensity, his calloused hands roaming your body with tenderness before sliding under your skirt to grip your thighs. Breaking the kiss, you smiled dopily at him before stripping off his coat, unbuckling his gun belt, and letting it drop with a metallic thud. Roy's eyes widened, and you just giggled:

"Oops!" You kissed him again, unbuttoning his black shirt while grinding against his deliciously hard cock. Roy voiced his need for you, guiding your hips into a slow, deliberate rhythm, letting you feel every inch of him as your wetness soaked through your panties.

"Think we oughta lose the rest of these clothes, hm?" you murmured against his lips. He nodded, both of you laughing at your fumbling—his hands flew to the buttons of your dress, impatiently tugging them free before showering your exposed chest with kisses, cupping your breasts like it was the first time, kneading them greedily, sucking your nipples until you arched into him with a wanton moan.

"L-let's get these off, baby," you stammered, reluctant to pull him away. Laughing, you both managed to undress between messy kisses and clumsy hops—you stepped out of your dress, now naked before him, then knelt to tug off his boots and pants.

Roy was left in only his half-unbuttoned shirt, his cock throbbing and begging for you.

"Goddamn, Roy. You're a sight." You couldn't help yourself, climbing back onto his thighs, positioning yourself over him. His hands found your waist, your eyes locked—and with a slow, deliberate motion, you sank onto him, taking him inch by inch with a long, sweet moan. Roy melted into the couch, watching you through half-lidded eyes, lips parted.

"What?"

"Just thinkin' you're missin' somethin'..." He grinned, reaching for his discarded hat and plopping it onto your head. "There. Now you're ready to ride me proper." He gave your ass a playful smack, making you gasp before bracing your hands on his shirt-covered shoulders. Roy shifted beneath you, finally shrugging off the last of his clothes—but you still felt something was missing.

"Hey, what—?" he started, but you clenched around him, drawing a ragged groan from his throat. You grabbed his black coat, shoving it at him.

"Put this on. No questions. Just obey, cowboy." You laughed at his confused pout. Roy groaned as you deliberately tightened around him while he struggled into the coat—finally dressed, he opened his mouth to complain about the wait, but you silenced him with two fingers against his lips.

"Nuh-uh. Shut up. Let me ride you real nice, but shut up." You smirked, retrieving the discarded bandana and tying it over his mouth like a gag. His expression darkened, but when you gripped the coat's lapels like reins and picked up the pace, he seemed to understand. Relaxing. Letting you take control, setting the rhythm as you rose and fell on his cock, milking him with each movement.

His hands gripped your hips, thrusting up to meet you, sweat beading on both your bodies—Roy panted, his gaze never leaving yours, full of desire. One hand slid to your throat as you threw your head back, lost in the feeling of him filling you completely. He wanted to whisper filth in your ear, but the bandana muffled his growls, drool soaking the fabric as he marveled at how perfectly your pussy fit around him. Slick, sweaty, fucking you hard. Your moans were music to his ears, your body moving in perfect sync, sweat glistening between your breasts, hair sticking to your face... God, Roy Goode was the luckiest man in the territory.

You slowly opened your eyes, his grip on your throat loosening as he focused on your ride. Gently, you tugged the bandana down, brushing your fingers over his lips, smiling lovingly as you slowed to a stop. Foreheads pressed together, sweat-slick and breathless, you kissed him softly. Roy tangled a hand in your hair, tilting your head to kiss your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously:

"Wanna feel you ride me from behind, darlin'..."

"Mmm, sounds so good..." you purred. With some effort, you turned around, his hands guiding you back onto his cock. "C'mon, sit that pretty pussy down on me," he rasped, making your legs tremble.

You resumed riding him, using his thighs for leverage, one of his hands on your waist while the other gripped your neck possessively.

"You're so big, Roy, so good—"

"That's it, ride me just like that..." His voice was wrecked, barely holding back. You bounced so perfectly, your ass slapping against his balls, it was a miracle he hadn't spilled inside you already. Suddenly, he hooked his arms under your knees, lifting you effortlessly (those hard labor muscles paying off) before slamming you back down, fucking into you with deep, punishing strokes. His breath was ragged against your back as he growled:

"Gonna fill you up, darlin'. Gonna put a baby in you. That alright?"

You choked on a moan, stars bursting behind your eyelids as he hammered that sweet spot. Roy laughed darkly, repeating:

"I asked you a question, sweetheart..." He stilled, making you whimper.

"Why'd you stop!?"

"Folks say I ain't no good. Just provin' 'em wrong—" He smirked at your desperate squirming, holding you still with a firm grip. "—if you want me to fuck you proper, answer me: you want me to breed this pretty cunt or not?"

"Yes, goddamnit, Roy, yes!"

Roy smiled beneath you, victorious. He grabbed your other leg again, adjusting himself beneath your body, sliding back into you slowly—in and out, holding himself deep inside you for seconds at a time, drawing whimpers from your lips as you scrambled for purchase with your hands. He repeated the motion once, twice, three times… so many times you lost count.

Then Goode thrust up hard, his own rough groan building as he shuddered beneath you, spilling—hot pulses of cum filling you up. He stayed buried inside you for long seconds, both of you panting, your own climax still coiled tight and throbbing low in your belly. He knew you hadn’t come yet, but that wasn’t a problem.

When he rolled you onto your side, slipping out of you—still half-hard from the thorough fucking he’d given you—he pulled you close, kissing you hungrily, his tongue sliding against yours as he pushed two fingers into you without warning. Just like that. He laughed against your lips at your startled gasp, his hat now tilted sideways on his head, his bandana loose around his neck. His fingers worked into you with the same ruthless precision as his cock had, hitting that same sweet spot until you were squirming, grinding down against his hand, helpless to the pleasure building—and the inevitable orgasm you’d been denied earlier.

When you least expected it, your body locked up, a full-body shudder wracking through you as electric pleasure shot from where he touched you all the way to your fingertips. You cried out, gripping his wrist to push him away, eyes wide, legs trembling uncontrollably.

Trembling, gasping, nails digging into his shoulders as electricity shot through you. Roy looked smug, bringing his fingers to his lips with a satisfied lick.

"Delicious. As always."

"Jerk," you huffed, both of you now tangled together on the sofa, sweaty and spent. His hand traced lazy circles on your back as you nuzzled into his chest, breathing in his scent—musky, natural, oddly comforting.

You glanced up. Roy looked thoughtful.

"And now...?"

"And now what?" you teased. He rolled his eyes, shifting beneath you.

"Now you convinced yet that you're one hell of a cowboy? A hero?"

Roy raised an eyebrow. Outside, night had fallen, La Belle's streets empty—as if the two of you were the only souls left in this lawless world. He pulled you into another searing kiss, murmuring against your lips:

"If this is how you prove I'm a hero... darlin', I'll need convincin' every damn day."

Playful, you could already feel his cock throbbing between your pressed pelvises, casting him a look full of intentions, love, and longing.

Roy raised his arms to the sides in an amused gesture of surrender, commenting:

"I was told earlier today that no one can tame the heart of a man in love..."

"Oh really?" you retorted, your mischievous hands already sliding down his torso toward the hardened length between you. Goode swallowed dryly:

"Yeah..."

"And what did you say?" You paused dangerously close to his cock. Roy made a pleading expression, silently begging you to keep exploring him with your hands. He gazed at you deeply, pupils dilating as they met yours:

"That I seriously doubted it... since mine is completely tamed by you."

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: i have this fanfic to write with him, now i only have a good amount of time to focus on writing with this man, because just like Jackie's other characters, he deserves all the spotlight!

#[★] zstartrixxx #roy goode #roy goode fanfic #roy goode x reader #roy goode x you #save a horse ride a cowboy #☝️🤠#roy goode smut #jack o'connell imagine #jack o'connell x reader #jack o'connell fanfic #jack o'connell #jack o'connell x you #[⋆♱⋆] zstar fanfics #[🦇] zstar jack o'connell #Spotify

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cameronsbabydoll · 6 months ago

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“you make me wanna be like one of those girls from the 1950s wearing those big pearls”

call me naomi or babydoll ♡ early twenties. in love with old movies, shopping, and daydreaming ♡ i love frank sinatra, old hollywood and heart-shaped candies.

before asking a question check my faq. you can get to know me here! take a look at my blog rules and venture on to my masterlist.

if you like my stuff and want early access to my upcoming fics join my community and if you want to be a regular, see my emoji anon list!

find out which of my !readers you are here!

you can also find me on... @bunnydollys for my visuals, @vogueprincess for my reblogs, and @luvbabydoll if you want to see who else i write for!

thank you @cherrygirlfriend for the layout!

#cameronsbabydoll ⋆. 𐙚 ˚#intro ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱#rafe cameron #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x yn #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe obx #rafe cameron x female reader

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misteria247 · 2 months ago

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Afternoon reblog yippee!

Frank could admit to his supposed flaws. Out of all the neighbors, he was the one who was the most prickly, so to speak. He went with logic rather than feelings and was the polar opposite of his best friend Julie. He could admit that his snippy personality could make him difficult to be around. That it could make him unapproachable to some. Yet he wasn't an unreasonable man or puppet. But at the moment.....

'I'm gonna start killing people.'

The grey puppet thought briefly as he grounded his teeth to not get into an argument. Praying to any deity out there to give him some patience. To spare his last nerve that was on its last leg. Across from him was Barnaby, the large blue dog puppet looking just as annoyed despite his easy-going grin.

"I just don't think it's a good idea exposing us."

The larger male said his tone lazy but firm. Frank took a deep breath, reminding himself that Barnaby was only thinking about the others. Just like himself.

"We can't keep this hidden forever. Sooner or later (Y/N) is gonna find out about us. And I think it'd be wise if we eased them into this rather than spring it on them."

Frank explained, trying to get Barnaby to see what he was saying. Just as he'd been trying to in vain to get him to see for the past two days.

"And what makes you think that we can trust (Y/N)?"

Howdy piped up, ever the question asker as much as a salesman. His eyes were narrowed a bit, staring Frank down. The smaller puppet wasn't phased, but he didn't respond. He didn't know how to convey that just from watching you for these past few weeks, he'd just got this gut feeling that you were trustworthy. Not in a way that was the logical manner that he was known for.

"Because they've been fixing us up! Despite all the bumps and road blocks, (Y/N) has done nothing but put us first! If they're willing to fix us old puppets, then I'm sure they're trustworthy!"

Julie chimed in, speaking Frank's thoughts exactly.

"I mean, look at my dress! My hair! Eddie's mailbag and Poppy's feathers! For goodness sake, they'd cleaned you up Howdy! And they just finished Frank's vest!"

The chipper puppet explained, holding the end of her red dress to show your handy work. The tears and holes that once littered the skirt were now patched up with adorable flower styled patches that were sewed on and ironed on. Some of them looked a bit bad, but they were stable enough to stay in place until you could figure out how to make them look better. Yet it was clear that they were done with care. And you'd gotten quite a few burns and pricks from trying to fix it. Poppy, who'd been quiet, jumped a bit, her feathers looking much better since their arrival to your home.

'Countless hours spent preening and fixing those feathers.'

Frank noted remembering how long it'd taken you to get the worst ones out.

"Julie darling....just because they fixed us doesn't mean that they're trustworthy with this."

Sally replied, sounding like she was exhausted and uninterested. The actor was next to Poppy, looking rather unimpressed with Julie's arguments.

"Now, now, let's not fight, please. This is a discussion, not an argument."

Poppy said, ever, the motherly one, as she sensed the possibility of an argument brewing. Julie, who had opened her mouth to reply, closed it, and Sally just sighed, not commenting.

"Well.....I don't know about you and Ms. Starlet, but I agree with Mr. Frankly and Ms. Joyful. (L/N) has been nothing but thoughtful. I think if we just explained, they'd understand."

Eddie, who hadn't really given his stance, put in. Frank looked at the larger mailman, who was nervous but steady in his words. Not wanting to stare too long, he quickly looked away.

"This could end badly if we tell them, you three realize this, right??"

Howdy asked his tone, judging.

"Howdy is onto something, pal. I'm not saying that (Y/N) is a bad person, but they're not him. Humans aren't always nice."

Barnaby threw in, looking a bit regretful at Julie and Eddie's expressions falling. Poppy and Sally didn't say anything else, but by their expressions, they were taking Barnaby and Howdy's words into consideration. Frank wanted to tear his hair out because he understood where they were coming from. He knew humans sometimes were not kind, especially to people or things who were different. But he couldn't give up. Something within him just couldn't let himself completely agree.

Not after watching you fix and clean them. Not after having you talk to him, always friendly save for when you were tired from work and other things. Not after watching you burn, cut, and prick your fingers and hands so much just to make them look better. Everything you did, it just screamed kindness. He wanted to give you a chance to be eased into this, not be taken by surprise.

You deserved that much, at least.

Frank steeled himself to again argue his, Julie, and Eddie's case on trusting you when a voice spoke up.

"No, they're not him. (Y/N) won't ever be him, but........they have his kindness. They've spoken to us and treated us like living beings. I think.....that they can be trusted."

Wally, who had been silent the entire time, had caused them all to quiet down and look at him. The smaller yellow puppet was calmly sitting on your armchair, a thoughtful expression on his face. Frank could see the others' expressions becoming resigned despite their displeasure. While Julie and Eddie perked up immediately at another one of their group agreeing.

"Wally buddy...."

Barnaby started to say, but Wally looking at him with a head tilt, quietly listening to his best friend, made him stop. The dog puppet just gave a sigh, knowing that Wally wasn't one to put his opinion in unless he was sure. And trying to change his mind was futile.

"I don't like this. You better think of a plan on how to do this, Frank..."

Barnaby said, gaze boring into him. Frank just thinned his mouth, meeting it head on.

"I always have a plan, Barnaby. I'm a bit offended you'd think otherwise."

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ghoulishhx · 3 months ago

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ohhh number 4 from the prompt list you reblogged screams frank castle!! I would love it if you could write it, please!

4.) slow sex while one or both are injured (bonus points if it’s after a battle or after they’ve patched up each other’s wounds)

arghh this is so cute, i can imagine it so vividly with him. he's perfect for this prompt, thank you for suggesting it !!

18+ MDNI !!

My Masterlist!

──── ୨୧ ────

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: MDNI, SMUTT, thigh riding, oral (m recieving), unprotected p in v sex (dont do this irl please and thanks), cockwarming, VERY fluffy, mutual pining, praise (phrases such as good girl and whatnot), choking, injured frankie

TW: discussions of cuts and stitches

Wordcount: 2.2k

──── ୨୧ ────

✦ seven stitches

“Hold still baby, I’m almost done with this stitch.”

You’re standing hovering over your boyfriend’s left thigh, giving you a better angle of the deep gash on his shoulder. You’re used to this routine with him, he comes over almost every night injured and bruised, you tend to his cuts and grazes, he stays for dinner and for dessert he has you coming undone on his cock, wakes up in the morning and rinse and repeat. You love your routine, he’s started keeping his weekends open from ‘work’ to spend more time with you.

Tonight is different however, he’s more hurt than usual. He struggled walking through your door, you had to wrap his arm around your neck to lug him into your small apartment, dragging him to the bathroom to tend to a whopping seven injuries, a new record, as opposed to the regular three or four.

All are littered across his toned chest and large arms, leaving you with a gorgeous view of Frank man spreading on a chair in your bathroom wearing nothing but his jeans. The sight causes a hitch in your breath, a wetness instantly blooming in your sleep shorts.

“Ah shit.. Doll ya almost done?” he winces in pain as you push the needle and thread through his skin for almost the final time, his hands flying to your hips holding you firm in place, feeling your heat on his thigh causes his cock to twitch.

“Almost Frankie, you’re being so brave for me.” you coo, taking a moment to turn your head and lean down to give him a quick peck on his cheek, giving him a perfect view of the valley between your chest. He can’t help the way his eyes instantly lock onto your breasts, the way your chest goes up and down with each breath, the feeling of your pebbled nipple on his arm. It’s almost comical how hard he is just from this passing moment, he blames the adrenaline from the events of the day before coming home to you.

“My eyes are up here, Frankie.” you giggle as you stand up straight again, getting back to work. Blush creeps up his neck as you resume your position. You look down meeting his eyes, giving him a little wink and smirk. If he wasn’t unbearably erect before, he is now. Shifting his position again, he bumps his thigh between yours, meeting your clothed core, the sensation sending a jolt up your spine and you have to bite your lip from whining out. You’re just as desperate as he is. Noticing his affect, he offers you the same wink and smirk as you did seconds before. You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you go as red as a tomato, as you go back to work.

After a few minutes, you finish putting him back together, covering all the stitches in gauze, kissing all seven after they are firmly protected.

“All better now baby, don’t go moving around too much for a few days, ‘kay? You need anything, you ask me, got it?” you state, still in the same position, looking down at him.

“Yes ma’am.” He says, grabbing your hips and pushing you down onto his thigh, straddling it. You cannot control the whine you feel at the sudden movement, the friction of his tensed thighs rutting against your dripping centre so perfectly. “I do need somethin’, now that I think about it.” His jaw ticks as his eyes stare deep into you, you know this look.

“Shit Frankie, I don’t wanna hurt you anymore than you already are.. Fuck.” Mid sentence he starts maneuvering your hips to rub against his jeans, a wet patch on the dark denim already made apparent.

“Shh darlin’, I can handle it.. We’ll just go slow okay? Need you sweetheart, need you so bad.” he glances down at the stain and smirks “Looks like ya need it just as bad huh doll?” his lips attack your neck, as you start grinding down with him as he helps, guiding you.

You throw your head back as you let the pleasure take over, reaching up to the straps of your cami top, pushing them down your shoulder as you let your tits bounce out, nipples hardening even more than they already were as the cool air of the bathroom hits them. He takes one of his hands from your hip and greets your left breast, kneading the flesh and twisting your nipple between his fingers. You wrap your arms around his neck, being careful as to not disturb any of your handiwork. You run your hands through his hair, pulling him into you to steady yourself. The rough texture is causing delicious friction where you need it most, reaching down to pull your shorts aside so you can feel him even more, he leans down to take your right breast into his mouth all while guiding your hips with his right hand, his left kneading into your ass.

After a few minutes of fucking yourself on his thigh, his hands moving all over you slowly as to not disturb the stitches, you feel yourself getting close.

“That’s it doll, you look so pretty makin’ yerself feel good on my thigh, cum for me angel let me have it. Let it allll out.”

You listen obediently, feeling your clit throb deliciously, whining his name and a string of curses under your breath as you ruin his denims.

“That’s a good girl, atta-fucking-girl baby, shit I needa feel that sweet pussy on my cock now ok?”

“A-are you sure you’re up for it baby? I don’t wanna hurt you..” Interrupting you, he pulls your face down to his into a bruising kiss.

“Never been more sure of anythin’ in my life doll, I don’ care if I lost both of my fucking legs there’s nothin’ I’d rather do than be inside ya.”

You lift yourself off of his leg, embarrassed by the wet patch, his reaction opposite as he whistles at the mark, roughly palming himself through the material.

You take his hand in yours as you guide him off the chair, he stumbles a little, muttering to himself an abundance of curse words, as you help him into your bedroom. He sits on the edge of your bed as you kneel down to help take his confines off, unbuckling his belt for him as he places both of his hands on your cheek, kissing your forehead. You reach down and take your small tank and pull it over your head and slip your shorts down your body and toss them to the other side of the room.

After wrestling with the fabric, you slip the denim down his legs, and then his boxers, leaving you with his thick, throbbing member only mere inches from your face. You’re both naked now as the days you were born. You get comfy on your knees and take it in your hand, he can't help throwing his head back, knowing what's coming.

You place your thick lips around the head of his cock, licking up his pre-cum. You begin bobbing your head, humming at the heaviness of his member in your mouth. His arms move to put his hands in your hair.

“Shit baby just like that, you’re fuckin’ perfect.”

Lifting your head up and down in a slow, passionate way, you swirl your tongue around his sex, enjoying the symphony of groans coming from his mouth. He helps with the pace, maneuvering your head softly on his cock. You continue for a few minutes as he taps your chin to get your attention.

“C’mere doll, need you now.”

He lies back on the bed slowly, on his side where the fewest of the injuries sat. You join him, carefully situating yourself in front of him, placing your back to his chest. Apprehensive of your position, you look to his face to try and sense if you’re causing him any discomfort. You look into his eyes and you see nothing but lust and adoration. You know he’s feeling fine.

He reaches down to his throbbing cock, taking the base of it and pushing the tip through your slick folds, collecting juices as lubrication. You whine as he passes your clit, kissing and sucking in the crook of your neck. He pushes down to meet your entrance.

“Tight squeeze now baby shh.. You can take it.”

Pushing inside of you agonisingly slow, your hand reaches behind your head to his, pushing your fingers through his short hair, pulling him into you, deeply exhaling as you feel the full eight inches inside of you, the head kissing your cervix.

Frank fucks you slowly, knowing his body couldn’t handle anymore than this. The long, deep and passionate thrusts have you moaning his name as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. The pleasure for him is elevated by his pain in his injuries, oddly enough, but he always knew he had a masochistic side to him.

Sex with him like this you’ve always held close to your heart, the passion as he pours his love into with each individual thrust, time stands still and there is nothing in the world but you and him, making love in such an intimate way.

His free hand is situated on your waist and the other is under the crook of your neck, on your breast. He moves the hand from your waist to your throat, gently squeezing and your eyes roll to the back of your head. His teeth and lips delicately grazing the back of your neck, his breaths erupting goosebumps on your skin while his cock fills you to the brim with every push of it. It’s not long before you’re coming undone with him inside of you as deep as he is, pushing your spongy spot so sensationally.

“That’s it baby, you feel so fucking good stuffed with my cock like this. I love ya honey, lemme feel you gush around me.”

His words push you over the edge into a shaking orgasm, trying your best to stifle your movements to not hurt him. The quickness of your orgasm approaching is ironic considering the slow pace of which you’re being fucked. He continues this way, fucking you so tenderly, pulling himself almost fully and then pushing himself back into you fully, feeling your dripping cream on his balls.

You both stay like this for a while, slowly fucking for, what feels like, a few hours, losing count of the amount of orgasms you have both shared. He would finish, draining his cock with an abundance of cum each time, cockwarm inside of you for a few minutes until he’s rock hard again ready for the next round. Boty of you are so addicted to the feeling, the sensation of being as close as humanly possible that it's almost impossible to stop. Neither of you realise how much time has passed or how long you’ve been here like this, until you see the sun rising past your curtains. The sight paints the room with beautiful shades of oranges and reds, illuminating your bodies in such tantalising ways.

You giggle to yourself at the realisation of how long you two were going for, and you look back at him and he’s smiling too. That perfect, cocky smile. It had felt like 2 hours tops you were there, interlocked, but time always flies when you’re with him (as corny as it sounds). He places little kisses along the side of your head, his arms pulling you even closer, suffocating you with his grip.

“You always take such good care of me, sweet girl. I dunno what I did to deserve ya.” he whispers into your hair. He pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, and goes to get up but you stop him.

“Just a little longer, please? Just wanna lie like this for a while more.”

He chuckles, getting back into position,

“Of course doll, not like we’ve been here for hours or nothin’..”

His sarcasm makes you laugh as you look over your shoulder, checking the condition of his injured body. Somehow all of his bandages are still intact, not really having moved all night. You sigh in relief as you cosy into him, starting to feel your eyelids grow heavier as you fall into a deep sleep, waking up for a second about 10 minutes later to the sensation of a warm washcloth between your legs.

“Just cleaning you up doll, won’t be two minutes.” he whispers, cleaning your mixed juices from you before tossing the towel into your wash basket as he resumes the spooning, pulling you into his chest.

“I was supposed to be taking care of you Frankie, not the other way round.” you mumble, sighing and yawning.

He chuckles, kissing you on your cheek,

“Shh darlin’, go back to sleep. You took such good care of me already ya hear me? Wanted ya to be comfortable.”

You hum at his words and within seconds you’re sound asleep again.

“I love ya sweetheart, so much.” he softly utters into your ear as he joins you in deep sleep.

a/n: im not gonna lie yall, i couldnt think of a name for this for the life of me so please don't be surprised if it changes lol. i hope u enjoyed!!

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