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onepiece-fics · 2 months

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Strawhats' reaction to their S/O napping randomly in weird places

Summary: Strawhats reacting to their partner falling asleep in weird places in positions randomly.

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader. General fluff. Mentions of gaslighting but in a joking way (incredibly unserious).

Word count: 1126

Luffy

Honestly, he’s too stupid to consider that it could be a health issue so he just kinda thinks it’s cute

It’s not until someone like Chopper or Nami asks him if you’re okay that he’s like “Wait a damn minute…. Is my partner okay???”

He’ll confront you about it, super concerned, asking if you’re dying and you’ll be like “ ??? what now???”

He’ll sit with you as Chopper examines you with very stern eyebrows. When Chopper tells him that you’re fine he has the BIGGEST smile on his face.

Would probably either join your naps (and also sleep in weird places/positions) or poke you until you wake up lol.

Zoro

Dude will join your naps, no questions asked.

He’ll ask you if you’re okay, but once you tell him that you’re fine he shrugs his shoulders and just lies down near you.

If you look particularly uncomfortable if you’ve somehow squeezed yourself in between two boxes or something he might pick you up and plop you down in a hammock instead.

Most of the time though he just sits or lays down next to you, with an arm around your shoulder or waist.

He knows you think it's adorable to wake up with him half-snuggled into you <3

Nami

Before you start dating she might judge you a little. She might give you a weird look when she finds you hanging from your legs in her tangerine trees lmao.

When you start dating though she’ll find it cute as hell. Whenever she’s just walking around on the ship and finds you in the most random places it’ll make her giggle.

When she finds you she’ll squat down beside you, move your hair from your face, and give you a kiss on your forehead as you wake up.

“Wake up sleepyhead, surely this can’t be comfortable?” she’ll say teasingly as she pulls you up on your feet (and drags you away to go cuddle somewhere)

Usopp

He thinks it’s soooo cute but…. He might jokingly gaslight you about it.

“Oh Y/N? Remember that time I found you sleeping in the Cola barrel and you heat all of Franky's cola up with your body temperature? No? Dang, and Franky got so sad about the Cola too…”

He’ll only gaslight you for a little bit though before kissing you and telling you it’s a joke. He’s not doing it maliciously, he just thinks it’s funny to tease you and make up stories (and tell them to Chopper who totally believes it every time)

Honestly, I feel like Usopp would be the type to tuck blankets and pillows away in the most random places that you tend to fall asleep in, in hopes that you would use them.

He would also tell you to call for him if you start feeling sleepy so he can wake you up!

In reality though, if you do call for him he’ll just get super soft and cuddly with you and you’d both end up napping together.

Sanji

He’d be SO worried about you it’s not even funny

Would be sprinting to Chopper with you in his arms the first time you fall asleep in a weird place asking him to cure you immediately

After an intense check-up from Chopper (with Sanji crying, holding your hand) he’ll be so relieved that you’re fine.

He might scold you if he finds you in positions that look particularly uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t ever wake you up. He’d just pick you up and place you on a sofa somewhere and wait until you woke up to scold you.

Like Usopp, he would also ask you to tell him if you were feeling sleepy, but with cuddling 110% in mind.

If you ever come over to him and tell him that you’re sleepy you best believe this man is dropping WHATEVER he’s doing to pick you up and run somewhere you two could cuddle.

Chopper

As a doctor, he’ll ask you some questions about it and be able to give you some advice on what to do.

Might prescribe you melatonin pills to take when you go to bed at night in hopes that you don’t nap at weird times/places.

Would definitely keep an eye on you and might get upset if you nap when he tells you not to (how could you do that to the poor doctor T_T)

Robin

I don’t think Robin would be all too worried honestly, I think she’d just find it cute

Similarly to Zoro, I think she might sit/lay next to you if she finds you and just read for a bit, stroking your hair if you’re lying in her lap.

She trusts that both you and Chopper know what’s healthy or not regarding your naps.

She might propose a daily naptime for you lol. Like, just a 40 min nap time where you’re leaning against her in the hammock or something like that.

Franky

It takes him a while to notice at first, and when someone tells him they found you under a carpet in the dining room he doesn’t believe them at all. When he goes to look for you and finds you under the dining room carpet though…. He loses his mind.

Honestly, I feel like Franky would just be baffled more than anything.

“But why would you nap there?? Aren’t there better places to nap? What if someone steps on you?” Mans is just incredibly confused.

Might make you a smartwatch that gives him a notification whenever you fall asleep so he can go get you and put you to bed lol

After it happens like 10 times he just starts joking about it even though he still doesn’t really understand.

Brook

Another one that doesn’t really reflect on how weird it is lol

If he sees you lying somewhere random on deck he might just laugh at you

Will tease you about it when you wake up, might even make a stupid rhyme about it and get Luffy and Chopper in on the teasing as well

But it’s all lighthearted at the end of the day!

Jinbei

I feel like Jinbei would be very confused like Franky, but would ultimately find it kind of cute.

Might pick you up and carry you to your or his bed and tuck you in with a little kiss on the forehead

More than anything I feel like if another strawhat found you sleeping somewhere weird they would come up to him like “Jinbeiiii, they fell asleep on the stairs againnn” like it’s his duty to go pick you up lol.

He might tease you a little bit about it because he finds it silly, but more than anything he finds it cute.

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thinkofahappyplace · 4 months

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♡ Some time together

♥ Roronoa Zoro x reader ✎ FLUFF ✎ Synopsis: just a short fluffy zoro thing ✎ WC: 1k

It's a beautiful day, the birds call to each other over the ship, deep blue waves crash against the sides, the sky is spotless. You stare wistfully at the picturesque scene the porthole creates. The hammock you and your boyfriend share sways with the boat and you tighten your grip on his hand each time you feel yourself begin to tip-- and each time, he smirks. You knew he wouldn't let you fall, but it really wasn't up to him, and the way the hammock turned sometimes you felt you were about to crash to the floor if you made any larger movements. "What are you doing tomorrow?" Snapped out of your thoughts, you peered up at the swordsman.

"What do you mean?" you ask. Normally you don't exactly plan to do the things you and the crew get up to. "Nami told me there's a market in the port, gave me a list. What's your job?" Zoro replies, mumbling the last parts in annoyance. "Oh," you say, glancing from the shiny gold pieces dangling from Zoro's ears, to the small potted plant you had picked up in a previous port-side town that now sits on the table. Giggling, you say to him, "I didn't get assigned something to do tomorrow, but Nami did tell me there was a market if I wanted to go get anything." "What?! Do you think she told Sanji or Usopp to do anything?!" He asks, obviously annoyed. "I don't know," you reply, "but I can go with you." It sounds nice actually, maybe it'll be just you and him, a date. "No, it's fine I don't need any help," Zoro says-- you could be offended by how he put this, but you know he just doesn't like unnecessary help and it's the only reason that crosses his mind of why you'd want to go. It's not romantic, you're running an errand that could literally be done by anyone else, he could attempt to help Franky and Usopp build another contraption, or explore the town with you and Luffy, let Sanji get the groceries! He adjusts his hand and sweeps his thumb across your knuckles, letting out a huff of frustration. "What if I just want to spend time with you?" you say, sliding the hand Zoro's not holding, over his bicep and givng it an affectionate squeeze. You press your lips to his warm skin, pulling away and looking up at the swordsman you see he's turned as red as Luffy's shirt. "We- I-... We'd just be getting groceries. I-it's not fun o-or romantic.. or.. anything..." he mumbles.

You really want to laugh, really, really want to, but you don't. You feel your heart swell and it feels like it's going to burst out. Zoro's face is still bright red but now your cheeks start to flood with color too. Leaning up, you capture Zoro's lips in a sweet kiss and feel his free arm come up to steady you as the hammock still sways, placing his hand firmly on your waist. You're just pulling away when a large wave rushes under the boat, rocking the hammock. You fall against Zoro, though it went unnoticed as he'd already pulled you against him when he felt the hammock jerk. "Be careful," Zoro mumbles, cheeks burning as he looks down at you with your face pressed against his bare chest. "Sorry~, but let me come with you tomorrow," you say smiling up at the swordsman. Pushing yourself up carefully on your elbow, you settle into a more comfortable position and continue. "It'll be fun if we're together, and it'll be so nice to have some time together off the ship again." You say. It's not often that you and Zoro get time alone anywhere, normally you'd have a task or chore or something that kept you apart and busy, and when you didn't you usually weren't alone. "...Okay-- but tell Nami to give Sanji the list next time, he's the one who cooks!" Zoro says with a huff. You put your head down on his shoulder with a laugh and Zoro can't hide the smile that tugs at his lips. -- The next day -- The morning fog had cleared by the time you landed in the port, revealing a bustling community with a port-side market lined with colorful stalls of fresh foods and intricate crafts. The dock grew closer and as Franky maneuvered the Sunny into place, Zoro came down from the crows nest. The crew met in the kitchen. It'd be a two day stay, a quick stop for food and fuel and a bit more time to let a passing storm go by. "Zoro, I want you to look closely at each item I've written down and each item you pick up." Nami says, pointing to the paper in her hand that she then folds and hand to an annoyed looking Zoro. "I'm not a kid! And I only messed up once!" He claims. "Three times." Nami says glaring stiffly at him. "Then don't send me to do it!" Zoro shouts, his ears turning red with frustration. "ZORO! Do not shout at Nami-chan!" Sanji shouts back at the swordsman, fists clenched. "Shut up!" Zoro responds. "Maybe I should send someone else..." Nami begins to say, looking around the room. "No it's okay, Zoro and I can do it," you say, eyeing your boyfriend and the cook who are getting a little too aggressive with their argument in the corner. "Oh! Y/N you're going with Zoro? That'd be perfect-- here!" Nami says, grabbing the note back from Zoro and taking out another, noticeably longer one and folding it. She hands it to you and smiles, "I trust you! Watch him!", Nami points at Zoro who's grabbing Sanji by the shirt collar. You laugh and grab Zoro's arm, dragging him away from the cook. "You can count on us! Be back soon everybody!", and with a smile you push Zoro out the door.

#zoro x reader #zoro fluff #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro fluff

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oonajaeadira · 5 months

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For the Love of Fic: December 9

I'm doing my best to get through my massive reading list by the end of the year, so buckle up, fam, you're about to get served a buffet of fic. There's so many tasty morsels here, even Mama Flores has to appreciate this feast.

🪐 = Year of Themed Creation Fics!

FRANKIE MORALES

Sheer Desire by @the-blind-assassin-12 Okay so imagine you're Frankie's +1 to a Millerboy wedding. And there's dancing and yearning and flirting involved. And the knowledge that after the reception, you're going to have him all to yourself. Now add in black thigh-high nylons. And the desire to see them in his hands. And his desire to have those lacy tops pressed against his ears.... IT'S HOT LIKE FIRE. DID YOU THINK IT WOULD NOT BE. GO GET IT.

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #2: Frankie Morales - Kiss in the Hammock by @something-tofightfor I mean, who doesn't want to be cuddled up in a hammock with Frankie? Who doesn't want those soft curls and soft lips and warm arms all pressed up against you?

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #12: Frankie Morales - Kiss in the Dark / Break Up Kiss by @something-tofightfor A little angst and a lot of love are on display here. Frankie's here to show his responsible and protective side, and while there's plenty of hurt, he does it oh so softly and I'm just glad we are left with hope.

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #14: Frankie Morales - “I miss you” Kiss / Angry Kiss by @something-tofightfor So remember that hope I just mentioned up there? Same pairing here, and the hope pays off. It's not without some real talk, but perhaps that's what makes the love even more deliciously sincere.

The day Frankie both loves and loathes the kitchen counter by @undercoverpena This is such a wonderful domestic Frankie POV piece. The way he wants to be better for reader, to provide more, to keep promises...the way he adores everything about her, including how she loves to bundle up in his clothes... Getting a peek inside a man who is sweet and loving and seeing the motivations there is such a treat. I really got swept up in this one.

MARCUS PIKE

The Thing About Second Chances by @artemiseamoon 🪐 This is exquisite. The pain of walking away really hurt. But then, when they met again it is so masterfully done...there are all these little impulses of his, wanting to do everything for her that could easily be overbearing except that he's just so damn loveable and it's hard to watch two people who clearly live each other be denied. I'm not sure he can really change all that much, but I am really pulling for them. Sometimes a little time apart can really drive home how much you can miss someone. Beautiful.

The Moon in May - Full Moon by @hopeamarsu Alpha Marcus. and. sitting on lap. purring and. teasing and soft and spreading you open but requiring go slow. is a tasty treat. brain mush. purring chest at my back. yes please.

JOEL MILLER

Something Wild and Unruly by @ezrasbirdie Okay, remember when I said that there was a fic that was so beautiful it made me want to quit writing? This is it, and I mean that as a high compliment. Like, I finished it and just put my head in my hands and stared out the window with a big smile on my face. It's outlaw!Joel and old west sex worker!reader with a heart of gold and a good attitude about what she does. It's got so so so much feels and yearning and softness and bathing and the ending is beautiful and full of hope...this fic is up all of my alleys and making all of my jams and is my entire life mood. It is my new official Fave Birdie Fic™️ and I need to sing that to the world.

Small Joys: Wheelbug by @keldabe-kriff 🪐 The whole point of Lyr's Small Joys series is just that--joys. So it seems antithetical for Ellie to have found a bug that's big and bitey and for Joel to freak out about and try to bat it away. But the joy part of it comes from reader's reaction--to the wonder at finding a wheelbug in nature where it wasn't expected--and Ellie's, who of course will always find wonder in something new. Simple and beautifully done.

Small Joys: Leaf Pile by @keldabe-kriff 🪐 Yes, the joy here is jumping in a leaf pile, but the joy I got from it was being able to hear Joel and Ellie perfectly in this. I also love the process Ellie gets to have in collecting the leaves and talking to a neighbor. It's really delightful.

The Sun Will Shine Again by @foli-vora I can't imagine dealing with crippling depression during the years after the outbreak, how hard and crippling it would be. And yet, I think I'd be able to manage if Joel was on my side, telling me he'd carry me as long as he could just to make sure I made it through. This is just such a beautiful piece. I want to curl up in it like a blanket.

Tangled Triumphs by @planet-marz1 I think my blood sugar levels hit an all-time high with this one and I ascended into the heavens. Joel learns to do Sarah's hair and it's so sweet and precious and I love them. Please read this. I need other people to share my squeals.

JACK DANIELS

Cast Iron Sunshine part 1: Think I'll Call You Sunshine and part 2: Daisy by @blueeyesatnight Color me intrigued. We got ourselves a cocky cowboy in the wild west and a female doctor reader with some determination, sass, and willingness to sport a revolver, and I want more of that push and pull I'm sure is coming. The first meeting is just enough tingle to rub my hands together with glee. HE'S SUCH A SHIT. But then comes Daisy and she's here to lay some hearts open...

What Happens in Vegas.., ...Never Really Ends in Vegas, and Forever by @wildemaven A beautiful drabble trio that encompasses the realization that you've accidentally-in-Vegas married Jack, trying to quit him, and being unable to do so. Do yourself a favor, don't think about it too hard, and give into your cowboy.

Remember Me by @toomanystoriessolittletime This twisted my little heart and melted me in so many ways. When Jack is brought back and can't remember his girlfriend? Can I just cry a river? No worries though, the ending's a happy, hopeful one.

DIETER BRAVO

Thought That I Was Dreaming by @haylzcyon Salty, spicy, and sweet all at once...this may just be my dream Dieter smut. I very much love a "did he really say???" but then the reason for her not asking was perfect. How does Haylz make the very filthiest filth the sweetest sweet?

Sleazy Santa by @morallyinept This what happens when Dieter's not an actor, just a tremendous sleezebag working as a mall Santa (he's respectful to the kids) and you can't stop wanting that scummy D and go bang dirty in the Grotto. There's candy cane action. It's real nasty. And written like a fkn gourmet meal. The sweatier Jett writes this slimeball, the more I want. I don't know how. It's like Christmas magic. Delicious.

Crawling Back to You by @prolix-yuy This fic is a feast and all of my favorite dishes are on the table. Monsterfkn. Demons. Blasphemy. Sexy contracts. Dieter being a menace. And softness????? This is smut and it is hot hot hot, but there's enough here that's sweetness and fondness that it's going straight to my forever faves list. HE RUINS HER SO NICELY. UGH!

Rendezvous in Reno by @theywhowriteandknowthings A Dieter with small-dick insecurities? Please and thank you, this is super cute. I'd love to get called out for describing his junk wrong in my fics and get a personal correction.

It's Never Over by @pennyserenade We don't get enough exes-to-friends fic around here, and this one is really nice. As much as I hope for them to connect again, I respect their love for each other and their need to just let themselves be special to each other. There were moments here that were bittersweet, but I really loved that about it.

DIN DJARIN

Birfday--Din by @writeforfandoms Listen. Is it so wrong that I want to cook a nice breakyfast to show Din how much he's loved? Is that too much to ask? Thanks, Jen, for something soft and sweet.

Then We'll Find Out Together by @missredherring A lovely little drabble about settling down in a new home with Din, getting used to the slowness and softness and niceness of everything. And when reader can't sleep, the one thing that's familiar--Din himself--is what calms her down. A lovely little drabble that I would like to live in.

Bounty and Hunter by @never--doubt 🪐 A soulmate fic wherein soulmates can't hurt each other. How interesting then that one of you is being hunted...and makes quite a game out of it?

Significant by @softlyspector He's been calling you riduur for months and you still don't know what it means. Once you find out, that's when the fireworks start. I don't know that I've read dialogue for Din and his sweetheart that affected me the way the last two lines of this fic did...... *swoons*

PERO TOVAR

Watercolor by @iamskyereads I mean, give a sellsword a bath and you may be in for trouble. But not this man. This man just needs a little care, and while he may not say much, he make good on all kindnesses. I would do anything to give this man a bath and have him speak kindly to me.

Date or Inseminate by @sirowsky Now listen. You're gonna have to read the warnings on this, because I for one get really squicked by dub-con mixed with medical malpractice. I didn't read the warnings and it came out of nowhere....but I'm telling you my eyebrows shot up and then I just giggled through the whole thing like WHAT IS HAPPENING. Sometimes fic is just there to be fun and slap you silly. IRL? No please. But this? Go in with the right mood and it's just strangely and shockingly delightful smut.

JAVI GUTIERREZ

Formula 101: December to Remember Part 2: Take What Comes by @littlemisspascal There's a lot to love about Rae's F1 media fic. Even outside of the easter eggs in the worldbuilding and the lovely way Javi and Oddball's relationship develops, there are the delightful media interludes--emails, texts, instagram posts complete with character comments--that use pictures and dialogue to move the plot along in a unique way. I love how a short text chain not only sets up a later story locale, but illustrates a history and relationship between two characters so fluidly. Every chapter is a delight to see how the media enhances the storyline...a storyline that is moving in a very interesting direction...

SPECIAL GUEST CORNER

BO KATAN KRYZE

Hiding Away from the Galaxy by @ghostofskywalker 🪐 I love a good reunion story. Here, you're an ex-Jedi who has a past with Bo and come to find her when all the wars are done. I'd agree that it's worth the wait when she takes you in her arms....

MARC SPECTOR

My Knight in White by @flightlessangelwings 🪐 Jey's been doing a year of protectiveness, and you know I don't mind that AT ALL. I would love nothing more than to have Marc follow me home and protect me. And then, yeah, if he let me follow him home...and into his bedroom....I wouldn't complain..... *swoon*

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cyborg-franky · 2 years

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Ello Franky, how are you? If your request are open can i please request some sweet time with zoro? maybe kisses and huggies from the sworman (gn please) i just going though hard time now and things could be really better

Thanks you so much and have a good day

I hope this helps you feel a little better <3<3 and hope you find comfort.

You weren’t entirely feeling yourself tonight and he could tell, he also wasn’t the type to bring it up first. If you wanted to talk, you would, simple as that.

You were in his hammock with him, shocked you could both fit with how broad he was.

But somehow, you did.

And it was nice.

His arm was around you, keeping you close to his side as you let your fingers trace patterns across his chest, following the line of his scar and lost in your own world.

Just being here like this with Zoro already helped your mind, soothe the ache of the negative thoughts.

Just enjoying the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the gentle sounds of the world outside as the Sunny bobbed along the ocean.

You enjoyed when the arm around you pushed up your shirt, his rough and calloused hand finding your skin.

Gentle strokes across your skin as he hummed in thought.

You could feel your eyelids growing heavy as the familiar sleepy ache tugged through your bones and muscles.

You closed your eyes, for just a second and filled your mind with thoughts of Zoro, focusing on the hand that stroked softly despite the roughness of his skin, and you were brought peaceful thoughts, drifting away.

Zoro watched you falling asleep, hearing your breathing change and he smiled.

Keeping you close he soon joined you for a much-needed nap.

#zoro one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #one piece x reader #one piece x you #sfw #gender neutral reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x you

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yourlocalweirdo-3000 · 2 years

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Sleeping with the Straw-Hat Crew (SFW)

+Smoker bc I love him

What it's like to sleep with them, are they big or little spoon, what they sleep in, etc. (Let's just imagine they all use beds of some sort for this, and not a hammock.)

Completely Gender Neutral but romance-oriented

(There will probably be a part two eventually :) )

Assorted characters: Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Usopp, Robin, Nami, Smoker.

Missing: Franky, Brook, Jinbe

WARNINGS: non-sexual, consensual groping; non-sexual kissing; I think that's it but let me know if I missed something :)

Luffy

His ADHD affects his sleep, as ADHD usually does, so he doesn't fall asleep easy. You help him set up a routine, remind him to take his medication, and soon his sleeping patterns are much healthier for him, and he's able to do these things for himself.

Big and little spoon; you never know with him. Sometimes you'll fall asleep in his arms, only to wake up on the floor with him in your arms. Loves to be cuddled and loves to cuddle you.

Trying to sleep with Luffy is pure chaos. He's a sleep-talker and a sleep-walker. His noises are so cute though, so you find it in your heart to forgive him.

Wakes you up when he leaves the bed for a midnight snack, too. Tries to get you to join him.

Y'know how he eats in his sleep? Yeah....hope you aren't super attached to your bedding. Nibbles on you as well— you'll wake up with hickeys in odd places because of this.

Keeps his PJs under his pillow like a little kid lol, if he even remembers to change into them before bed.

His bed had crumbs (he eats in bed) so make sure to shake the sheets out before you lay down with him.

Originally he didn't have sheets at all, the barbarian, but you got him some cute ones. Currently the patterns on his sheets are monkeys, meat, and plain colors like red and blue.

Sanji

However you want him to, but he loves little spoon a whole lot more than he'd like to admit. Likes to face your chest when being little spoon.

Loves sleeping in the same bed as you; he wakes up earlier than you since he's gotta make breakfast for the crew, and it gives him a chance to admire your physical appearance.

A quiet sleeper. Sometimes (consensually) gropes you though.

He sleeps in fancy pajamas; like a full set, matching top and bottom, everything. Slippers as well.

Likes to buy matching sets of PJs for you and him.

If it's too hot for his matching set, he'll sleep in his cute heart-patterned boxers and a t-shirt.

His sheets are never dirty, and they're heart-patterned too.

Usopp

Brags about being big spoon; is actually little spoon most the time.

He thoroughly enjoys the feeling of safety it brings him.

A sleep-talker, and moves a lot in his sleep, but you manage somehow.

Might drool on you a little bit.

Loves it when you kiss him awake.

Sleeps in pajama pants; usually shirtless.

His bed is relatively clean; it's no more dirty than the average person's bed.

His sheets are plain or bug-themed.

Zoro

Seems to sleep like a log, but in reality he's actually a light sleeper. Snores.

Not really into cuddling so much but enjoys sleeping next to you anyways.

Little spoon by default because while he may not initiate the contact, he lets you touch him however you want.

Also a consensual groper. You'll usually wake up with at least one of his hands under your shirt/in your pants, unless you don't like that sort of thing.

Zoro is very warm; you can't sleep with too many blankets when you share a bed with him.

Sleeps in the clothes he wore that day, or his underwear only.

Bed is very clean bc he doesn't use it much, usually falling asleep in the crow's nest, y'know how it is.

No sheets, you had to get him some. He's got plain colors now, like tan and pistachio.

Robin:

Robin's an insomniac. Having a load of mental health issues messes with her sleep cycle.

Having you and the crew though motivates her to take better care of herself though, so she establishes a sleep cycle with the aid of a prescribed medicine. She also feels safe enough to sleep with such strong comrades.

If she sleeps in bed with you, she has to really trust you. Sleep is a vunerable position that she doesn't let many see her in.

She loves being big spoon, and thought she'd prefer it, but she actually prefers being little spoon. It makes her feel safe and loved

She's a great cuddler, and she sleeps as still as corpse when she's truly asleep. She will not stir unless physically prodded to do so.

The first couple times this happened you were almost afraid she was dead; but thankfully not.

She's perfect to sleep with though because she doesn't disturb you at all, and she's very soft, so she's comfortable to sleep with, too.

Her pajamas are soft yet elegant. On hotter nights she'll take off her pants and just sleep in panties.

Bed is always clean. Royal purple, silk sheets. She's a classy lady.

Nami:

Nami is firm on her boundaries, so if she shares her bed with you, you must really mean a lot to her.

She's selfish to some, but to her partner she is generous. She'll share the bed with you and give you plenty of room.

Has a good sleep schedule; she values her beauty sleep.

She prefers little spoon, and she wants you to hold her boobs too. It's just a comfort thing.

Loves when you scratch her head until she falls asleep.

Her PJs are skimpy and cute. She knows what it does to you 🥴

Her sheets are moderately clean; they would be clean if she didn't sometimes draw in bed and get the eraser crumbs on her sheets.

Her sheets are pink and turquoise; she's got orange-themed (the fruit) and other neat patterns on her sheets, too.

Smoker

This man doesn't know how to show love 😔🤚

You'll have to initiate everything and he'll be nervous at first, so you've gotta take it slow.

But eventually, he learns to love the way you casually touch him. He starts to expect it. And in a little while longer, he'll start trying to initiate it too.

A light sleeper, and an insomniac. Many a time you'll just sleep in his lap, leaning against him, until he finally decides he's done with all his work. Carries you to bed when that happens.

Sleeps better with you around and comes to enjoy sleeping.

He's not much of a cuddler, cause his body temp is pretty high, but you still enjoy the closeness of sleeping in the same bed.

He's used to sleeping in his day clothes, considering he just passes out at his desk, but your insistance about his comfort is endearing.

He tries the PJs you got him, but they make him sweat. He also tries to put up with it, but you notice immediately and ask if he'd be most comfortable without his shirt, at least. You make sure to let him know that you'd be fine with it, and he admits he would feel better that way.

So he usually sleeps shirtless.

His sheets are plain white or gray. No crumbs; he doesn't eat in bed or anything of the sort.

Finished January 1st, 2022

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starsinalocket · 2 years

Text

Summer Peace

pairing: frankie “catfish” morales x afab!reader

warnings/tags: talk of pregnancy, fluff, frankie being a sweet dad

word count: 859

{if i miss any warnings, please let me know. i want this to be a safe space}

{my blog is an 18+ only space because of mature content. please do not interact if you’re a minor. some works will be explicit some will not and be straight fluff, but i will reinforce the 18+ only on my entire blog}

a/n: just a little short, sweet fic after i had a thought of frankie in a hammock with his baby girl during the summer. i associate frankie with the summer idk :)

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

In the months that you were pregnant, Frankie doted on you and always expressed his excitement to meet your daughter. You could see the light in his eyes every time he did something for the upcoming baby or talking about everything he wants to do with her as she gets older. As excited as you were to meet her and to see Frankie as a dad, the first trimester wasn’t easy for you with how often you got sick and felt tired and drained. There were days when it clouded over the excitement, and it saddened you. It wasn’t easy for you to go through, and it definitely wasn’t easy for Frankie to see.

Frankie has spoken about some building projects for the house for your daughter to really make your home a family home, and one of the projects was hanging a hammock in the backyard. It was simple enough to hang, and he thought it would be nice to have sooner rather than later. You beamed at the sight of the hammock when Frankie uncovered your eyes after leading you outside. Your first trimester was during the early months of summer, and having a cozy hammock in the shade during the warmer weather was exactly was you needed. If Frankie was looking for you during the weekends when you both had work off, that hammock was where he would find you more often than not. Sometimes you were even there during the weeknights if it was warm enough.

As you progressed in the pregnancy, it became more difficult to climb in and out of the hammock, and the weather started to cool down so you couldn’t spend as much time outside. Frankie saw how sad you became, but you reassured him that you were fine because it helped you tremendously during those first few grueling months. You would be able to visit again during the summer.

Once your baby girl came along, Frankie would not let go of her. You always laughed to him saying that you wondered if you would ever get to hold her. Frankie read a lot about skin to skin contact, so that’s how he spent a lot of his time with her. Once summer came back around, you became excited at the chance to lay in the hammock again, back in the comforting swing. You were walking through the kitchen tidying up after making some snacks when you caught the most heart aching sight you had ever seen. Tears started welling in your eyes when you walked to the sliding door and saw the sight of a shirtless Frankie with his eyes closed laying in the hammock with his daughter in a pair of shorts and no shirt laying on her father’s chest fast asleep. One hand held her close to him while the other arm was propped behind his head and one leg was popped out of the hammock to lightly rock it back and forth.

You walked out of the house into the backyard with some strawberries and a blanket to lay down on. How could you be disappointed at the loss of a chance to lay in the hammock when the two most important people in your life looked that peaceful. You leaned down to kiss your daughter on the cheek and lightly played with the dark curls on her head before moving up and kissing Frankie on the forehead. He opened an eye and smiled at you before opening both eyes.

“Hi.” He beamed at you.

“Hi.” You smiled at him and moved to kiss him gently.

“Sorry for taking your spot. It was really nice out, and she wasn’t going down for a nap, so I thought this would help.” He said softly.

“It’s ok. You look really cute laying there with her.” You moved to spread the blanket on the grass and sat down facing them.

“She fell asleep immediately.” He chuckled. “Reminds me of how relaxed you were in this thing.”

“God, that was amazing.” You laughed. “That thing was a lifesaver, you don’t even know.”

“I think I got an idea of it. I thought I was gonna go to bed alone for several nights.”

“Well, I’m glad she likes it as much as I do.” You looked to her sleeping body.

“She’s perfect, babe. I can’t get over it.” Frankie moved one of his hands to glide it over the back of her head which caused her to stir a little and rub her face with her tiny hand before immediately going back to sleep. You both stayed there in a short comfortable silence just glancing down at the life you had made together, still stunned at how she was the combination of you both.

“So, when are you going to get started on that tree house?” Frankie had talked about having a treehouse for her your entire pregnancy. He wanted her to have a space to hang out and express her imagination.

“Might be a mistake.” He teased and smiled a big smile. “I’m gonna come out to see her asleep in the treehouse and you asleep in the hammock all summer.”

#frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier #frankie catfish morales x reader

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freelancearsonist · 3 years

Text

Wait for Me

Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!Reader

Rated MA for graphic sexual content, unplanned pregnancy, bad language, and angst with a happy ending

3,899 words

You close your eyes for a second and take a deep breath, letting everything sink in. All of the sounds and smells and feelings of the evening soak into you, simultaneously warming you and fueling your melancholia.

You’re trying to stay positive. At least he told you this time. Last time he left, he didn’t say a word and you worried he was dead for three months. At least this time, you know that he’s leaving.

But you can’t help worrying. Because if he’s telling you he’s going somewhere, there’s got to be a worse condition. He’s not going to have any way to contact you, or he’s going to be gone way longer than usual, or he’s never coming back. There has to be worse news coming with this.

But you’re trying to stay positive, so you push those thoughts to the back of your head. The sun’s just about completely set, and you’re almost out of beer. Still, you’re desperate to keep the party going. Your chance at finally confessing that you have feelings for Santi before he goes off to prance around in the jungle dies with the fire.

Frankie leaves first. His new girlfriend is blowing up his phone, and from the blush on his face, the messages aren’t exactly safe-for-work.

And then Will. His fiancé asked him to stop at the grocery store on his way home, and he had to leave a little early if he wanted to make it before they closed.

Benny was the last to go. He didn’t really have anything to do or go home for, but he could tell something was brewing between you and Santi, and he wasn’t about to cockblock you on Santi’s last night in America. He told you as much, low in your ear when he hugs you and thanks you for hosting.

“He’s head-over-heels for you, Tigerlily.”

You smile softly at the moniker that Santi coined for you.

“Seriously. Just go for it. This is your last chance. He’s been in love with you for years, and I know you have a thing for him, too. Just go for it. He won’t turn you down.”

Your face heats at his words, and you’re glad that it’s too dark for anyone to see.

You clear your throat and pat him on the back. “Thanks, Benny. See you later.”

And then it’s just you and Santi.

You settle into the hammock next to the fire, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself.

“I guess it’s a little cold for a bonfire,” you laugh softly, watching as the glow of the flames shift and crackle and cast beautiful shadows over your beautiful companion.

Santi chuckles quietly at that. “I don’t mind, honestly. It’s the last time I’ll be cold for a while.”

Right. He leaves in the morning. For a very, very long time. For all you know, this might be the last time you ever see him. It’s a very real possibility that the only way he’ll return to you is in a body bag.

“You mind passing me another beer, Tigerlily?” He asks sweetly, nodding to the cooler set beside your hammock.

You clear your throat as you stand and pass one to him.

“Why do you call me that? Tigerlily? I like it, I’ve just... never really understood the meaning.” You laugh a little bit, because you’re so nervous you’re almost rambling.

He smiles softly and looks up at you like you’re the only other person in the universe. He’s always made you feel like that—like nothing matters but being with him.

He clears his throat. “Because you’re strong and ferocious, but you’re also beautiful and... really fucking perfect.”

You reach for each other like two atoms of the same element, desperate to be bonded together. You collide like particles traveling at a high velocity, melding together and shifting until you’re not two parts but one whole.

His mouth fits perfectly to yours, his hands set just right on your hips. He is perfectly contoured to you, as if built specifically to kiss and touch and hold you. As if he is the other half of you, in soul and body.

You gasp when you shift and one of his firm, muscular thighs slides between your legs to press directly against your heat.

“Shit,” he pants, his lips traveling down your neck and nipping at your collarbone. “Are... please tell me this isn’t just because I’m leaving.”

“No,” you whisper, your fingers traveling up to settling in his soft curls. “No, I’ve... I’ve wanted this for so long, Santi. I’ve wanted you anyway you’ll let me have you.”

He chuckles morosely at that. “I... I have too. I had no clue you were interested... we should’ve done this a long time ago. Now... you don’t want to come with me, do you?”

He wears a soft smile, but you can tell that he’s genuinely asking. And you would, if you didn’t have a very important job and a very important house mortgage. You never expected yourself to become so unintentionally domestic.

“I can’t,” you tell him reluctantly. “I would. Believe me. But... there’s too much here. I have a life, and... I’m tired, Santi. I love working with you, but I just can’t do that stuff anymore. We’re too old.”

He chuckles at that. “Don’t I know it. Okay. Then... are you comfortable with this?” He flexes his thigh beneath you, and you gasp again.

“Yes,” you pant, subtly grinding yourself into the meat of his leg. “Fuck, yes. Please... I want you, Santiago. So bad. Even if... even though you have to leave tomorrow.”

His hands slowly slide up your thighs and over your hips, snagging under your shirt and pushing it up as he goes.

“Can I?” He asks hesitantly as he tugs on the garment.

“Please.”

He tugs your shirt over your head gently, his hands immediately roving over all the new skin presented to him. Even though the cold night breeze surrounds you, you feel nothing but warmth in his embrace.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Tigerlily,” he breathes, somehow sounding both reverent and morose. He’s excited to finally see you, and pissed that he’ll have to leave you.

You flush under his praise as his hands slide behind you and quickly unclasp your bra.

He gasps as you let the fabric slide down your arms, bottom lip pulled between his teeth and eyes so dark with hunger that they look black.

“I haven’t... done this in a while,” you admit sheepishly.

“If you wanna stop, we stop,” he tells you, voice firm yet somehow soft at the same time. “All you have to do is say the word and we won’t go any farther, okay? I want you to be good with this. Can I touch you?”

“Yes.” It’s a breathless whisper that turns into a moan as his warm palms cup your breasts and squeeze gently.

Your hips buck against him, drawing the most beautiful and sinful moan from his lips.

“God, you have no fuckin’ clue how long I’ve wanted you,” he gasps.

“A really long time, if it’s anything like how long I’ve wanted you.”

Santi takes you slowly and gently, rocking his hips up into you to meet the pace that you slowly drop down onto him. He’s big and thick and everything you’ve ever wanted, and you try not to think about how this might be the last time you get him when he takes you inside and guides you into your shower.

He takes you again in the shower—pins you to the wall and thrusts into you urgently. He’s starting to realize that the hours are trickling away, and he’ll have to leave you much sooner than he wants to.

He spills into you one last time when he finally gets you in bed, crying out hoarsely as he empties himself into you for the third time.

He smirks playfully as he pulls you to rest against his chest.

“There,” he grins. “Should be enough cum inside you now to last until I get back. And I promise I’ll fill you up first thing when I get back. If... if you wanna wait for me. And if you don’t...”

“I’ll wait,” you promise without really thinking about the implication. “There’s no one else I really wanna be with, anyway.”

Santi leaves a kiss on your forehead and a note on the pillow when he wakes up.

I’m sorry. I wish we had more time. Wait for me, Tigerlily.

You want to cry when you wake up and feel that the other side of the bed is cold. You wanted to give him a proper goodbye—but then again, he’s never believed in saying goodbye. Always said it felt too permanent. And especially now, he didn’t want it to be permanent. Him refusing to say goodbye to you was a sign that he would come back to you even if it killed him.

You go about life as normal without Santi—you don’t even tell the boys about the glorious night that the two of you shared.

You see them less and less without Santi around, which isn’t entirely surprising. He’s always been the glue of the group, the one who brought all of you together. It just doesn’t feel right to be around the others without him there.

But then you start to feel off. Off in a way that terrifies you to your very core.

Will is terrified when you call him at midnight, nearly two months after the bonfire. He can’t hear your through your sobs, but the fact that you’re so upset scares him more than anything ever has before. He’s worried that you’ve received news about Santi somehow—bad news.

It’s even worse when he shows up at your house, though. You’re curled up on your bathroom floor when he finds you and scoops you into his arms. He holds you for a long time—an hour, maybe even two—before you calm down enough to tell him what’s wrong.

Of course, he figured out the second he stepped foot in your bathroom. He saw the three positive pregnancy tests on the counter.

You cry yourself to sleep in his arms, and he’s gentle as he carries you to bed. He doesn’t get any information out of you—who the father is, how long it’s been. But he has a sneaking suspicion. It adds up just a little too conveniently.

Will sleeps on your couch and wakes up early to make you breakfast. Eggs and bacon and toast and fruit—a little bit of everything because it’s important that you eat well. He’s so remarkably kind and patient, and you wish there was a way to repay him.

The next seven months go by quickly. The boys are by your side more than ever now, helping without your request when your yard needs to be mowed or you need to go to an ultrasound appointment. No one asks to know who the father is, or comments on your lack of explanation. There’s an unspoken knowledge and agreement between the three of them.

When you finally go into labor, all three of them are there for you. The only problem is that only one is allowed in the delivery room with you. Benny is anxious and Frankie has a weak stomach, so Will holds your hand and helps you breathe as you push out a little girl with dark hair and beautiful brown eyes.

She looks exactly like her father. But the boys don’t say anything. They don’t say anything when you name her Lily, either—but they all make the connection to the nickname Santi always used for you. They especially don’t say anything when you decide to give her his last name.

Frankie stays with you for nearly an entire week when you get discharged from the hospital. He gets up in the middle of the night when Lily cries and brings her to you to feed, or he changes her diaper, or he rocks her back to sleep. He becomes your right hand man—he and his new girlfriend are always at your beck and call, no matter what time.

They stay late after Lily’s first birthday party and help you clean up—actually, they do all the cleaning up while you sit on the back porch and stare down the place where your daughter was conceived.

Frankie comes out after a while and sits next to you, and the silence is thick enough to cut with a knife but it’s somehow comfortable at the same time.

“She looks exactly like him.”

It’s the first time anyone’s brought him up around you in more than a year, and you’re not sure why it hurts as much as it does.

“She does, doesn’t she?”

“You haven’t heard from him.”

“No.”

Frankie sighs deeply. “He doesn’t know?”

“How the fuck was I supposed to tell him?” You sigh, but there’s no venom in your tone. You just sound tired. “It’s not like he left a forwarding address or a phone number or anything. I... I wouldn’t know how to get ahold of him if I wanted to.”

“You don’t want him to know?”

You pause contemplatively. “No... it’s not that easy.”

“Tell me right now what you want. Don’t think about it, don’t tell me it’s complicated. Tell me what you want from him.”

You don’t hesitate before you answer. “I want him to be here.”

“But he’s not,” Frankie states sadly. “Maybe you should at least try to reach out. He might come back if he finds out.”

“That’s... that’s the problem,” you sigh. “If... if he hadn’t left, I would want nothing more than to do all this with him. But now that he’s gone... I can’t be the reason he comes back. He... he’d say he wouldn’t, but a part of him would resent me for stopping him from seeing this job through. Even if it was unconscious. I know how this life works.”

Frankie doesn’t argue with you. He can’t argue, because he knows you’re right. Pope is entirely dedicated—he’s like a horse with a blinder. He focuses on one thing at a time and throws himself entirely into it. He needs to see this through so that his dedication can shift and he can devote himself entirely to his daughter.

Benny’s the one who tells you when he hears from Santiago for the first time in over three years.

He sits on your couch with a soda in hand, watching with a soft smile as Lily draws. She’s only two and a half, but she’s already doing a remarkable job of staying inside the lines. In a metaphorical sense, too. It’s a trait that she definitely didn’t inherit from her father, and the thought makes Benny chuckle.

“He texted all of us,” he explains quietly. “Says he has a job.”

You shake your head. “He didn’t text me.”

It hurts more than you think it should. It’s been three long years—why aren’t you able to move on? You had one night with him. You shouldn’t be this hung up over him.

But you didn’t have just one night with him. You had fifteen years with him. Fifteen years of loving him and dancing around the fact that he loved you too.

Or, you thought he did. But he comes back without so much as a word to you, and you’re running out of excuses to tell Lily why you’re so upset.

Four of the five come home. You sympathize with Tom’s family, but you can’t deny that you’re glad all of your boys made it back. You don’t know what you would do without them.

It’s well past Lily’s bedtime—well past your bedtime—when you hear a quiet knock on your front door. Years of proactive paranoia from being in the military tell you not to open your door, but then the late-night visitor knocks again.

Time seems to move slower when you open the door and see Santiago standing there, hands tucked into his pockets.

You’re not sure who moves first. One second you’re standing there in shocked silence, and then next his arms are wrapped so tightly around you that you can barely breath and you’re sobbing into his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and even though he’s shivering in the cold night air he wouldn’t dream of pulling away from you or moving in any way. “I’m so sorry I left you, Tigerlily.”

You pull him inside when the chilly night breeze is too much to handle, telling him to settle on the couch while you put the kettle on the stove.

His heart shatters a little when he sees the toys and other pieces of evidence that you have a kid scattered around your living room. He tries to be happy that you’ve moved on, but it breaks his heart. You promised to wait for him, but maybe it was naive of him to believe you would. he can’t blame you. You deserve stability.

He clears his throat at least three times once you’re sat down in front of him, trying to find the words he wants to say. But what is there to say after so long saying absolutely nothing?

“You had... you have a kid?”

You let out a shuddering breath at his statement. You hadn’t even realized that it was so obvious—you’ve gotten used to the clutter that comes with having a child.

“Mhm.”

“That’s... that’s great. I’m happy for you.” He clears his throat again. “How old?”

“Two and a half.”

That burns. You moved on fast after promising him that you would wait, apparently.

“That’s... wow. W-what’s... what’s their name?”

You take a deep breath and close your eyes to fight back the tears that threaten to spill over. “Her name is Lily.”

It’s silent for a long time. Minutes pass as it settles and Santi puts two and two together.

“Sh-she... she wouldn’t happen to be... she isn’t...” He doesn’t know why he can’t say it. Why he can’t ask you for the answer to what’s becoming so apparent to him.

But you know what he’s asking. It doesn’t take a genius to know. “Yeah. She’s yours.”

Santi lets out a shuddering breath as he folds in half, arms propped up on his knees as he buries his face in his hands.

When he feels your gentle touch on his shoulder, a sob wracks through his body.

You pull him tightly into your chest as he falls apart, tears soaking your shirt and his voice mumbled in your chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Never would’ve left. I... oh, god.”

You hold him tightly as he cries, like he might slip away or evaporate into thin air if you loosen your grip at all.

And then you hear tiny footsteps in the hallway.

“Momma?”

Lily’s tiny little hands rub at her tired eyes, bottom lip trembling. Telltale symptoms of a nightmare.

Santi wants to start sobbing all over again when he sees her. She’s absolutely perfect in every way. She has your nose and skin tone but Santi’s eyes and hair and lips and if he had any doubt that he was a father, it’s gone the second he sees his little girl.

You open your arms to her and she immediately burrows into your chest, shyly peaking at Santi over your arm.

“Momma?” Her little voice makes Santi’s eyes well with tears all over again.

“Yeah, baby?” Your voice is quiet, weak. Full of emotion and tears yet to be spilled.

“That daddy?”

The air catches in Santiago’s throat at her tiny question. You’ve told her about him. Clearly you’ve shown her lots of pictures if she recognizes him so readily.

You exhale shakily before you answer her. “Yeah, baby. That’s your daddy.”

She wiggles out of your embrace carefully, footsteps tentative until she stands right in front of Santiago. She’s so small, and Santi nearly sobs when one of her tiny palms comes to rest on his knee.

“Hi.”

He lets out a shaky breath and extends his hand to her. “Hi.”

She only hesitates for a moment before accepting his invitation and using his huge hand as leverage to crawl into his lap.

A quiet sob wracks through his chest as Lily’s tiny arms wind around his neck, and she pulls back to look at him. Her little hands rest on his cheeks, her fingertips hardly the size of his tears. He can’t get over how small she is.

“Why cryin’, daddy?”

He buries his face in her hair as another sob forces its way out of his throat. “I’m just so happy to meet you, mi flor.”

Your daughter is a natural caretaker, just like her father—she refuses to go back to bed until she’s sure that Santi’s okay. When his tears finally cease, she takes his hand and reaches for yours and guides the both of you down the hall to her room.

Your heart swells with emotion as you watch Santiago tuck your daughter into bed for the very first time.

Still, her little eyes refuse to close. Now that she’s been in her father’s arms, she doesn’t want to go without them again. You know the feeling.

“You’ve gotta go to sleep, honey,” he whispers as he brushes her curls out of her face. “It’s important for little girls to get lots of rest so they can grow up big and strong. I’ll be here in the morning when you wake up, okay? Lo prometo.”

“Mommy?” She calls to you, peeking around her father to see you leaning in the doorway.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Promise daddy will stay?”

Your breath catches in your throat for the umpteenth time that night. You want to promise her he’ll stay. You want to believe that he was being honest when he left—when he told you that it would be his last job.

You catch his dark eyes, and he doesn’t hesitate to nod at you. This time, it’s the truth. He wouldn’t dream of leaving again now.

“I promise, baby,” you tell her as calmly as you can, even though you feel like jumping for joy. “Daddy’s staying.”

Santi collapses into your arms again the second Lily’s bedside light is turned off and the door is closed behind the two of you.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. He knows the words mean too little, too late, but he’ll never stop saying them. “I’m so sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have gone. I’m sorry.”

You brush your fingers through his hair as you gently lead him down the hall to your bedroom. “I know.” You know he’s telling the truth—you know he never would’ve left you alone like he did if he had known about your little girl.

“Do you remember what you told me? Do you remember the note you left?” You ask softly as you tug him under the covers. He just nods as he curls into you. “You told me to wait for you. And I did. I waited for you.”

You fall asleep in Santi’s arms for only the second time in your life. This time when you wake up, though, they’re still firmly wrapped around you.

THE END

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moralesispunk · 3 years

Text

How they react when you cry at a TV show/ Movie

For: Frankie Morales, Din Djarin, Marcus Moreno, Pero Tovar, Marcus Pike, Agent Whiskey, Dave York and Oberyn Martell

x Gn Reader (Pero x afab reader)

Summary: how the Pedro boys would react when you get upset watching your favourite TV show or movie (this may or may not be inspired after I watched the Flight episode of Greys)

Warnings: reader upset over their favourite character death/ one mention or pregnancy with Pero

Frankie

You had finally convinced Frankie to watch your favourite show with you, starting from the beginning again. You had only made it a few seasons in before starting again with Frankie so when one of your favourite characters died it was your first time watching this part. He was so engrossed in what was going on that he didn’t realise you had been crying until you were gasping for air and shaking next to him. At first he panicked thinking something had happened to you.

“Whats wrong, baby?” he turned to face you.

When you couldn’t talk through the tears but waved towards the TV he realised you were crying at the show and so he pulled you into his side, cradling your head and shoulders as he gently rocked and hushed you. He did have to bite back a smile, knowing he would definitely tease you later about this.

“It’s okay, let it out.”

When you tried to say you were sorry through the tears, that you were being silly and it was just a show he told you that you weren’t being silly at all and asked if you wanted to put on an episode of something funnier before bed. He gently held you against his side until the sniffling stopped, then he started to tickle your side to really make sure the tears stayed away.

Din

The long journeys through hyperspace could be boring sometimes and so whenever you went into the bunk to relax you would put on an old show on your holo projector. Once Din had the ship settled in hyperspace, he climbed down the ladder to check on you and the kid. When the bunk door opened he saw the kid happily asleep in his hammock and then you curled up in the corner with a hand over your mouth trying to keep your tears in. He panicked thinking you had been hurt the last time you were off the ship and didn’t tell him but as soon as he seen you watching the show you had told him about he put his hand on his hip and beckoned you out the bunk.

“I thought you were hurt,” he said, “come on, lets not wake the kid up.”

He helped you up the ladder but as soon as you went to sit in your seat he gently gripped your arm to stop you, moving your bodies so he was on his seat and you were lying across his lap, curled into his chest. He let you mope around for a while, gently holding you against his chest, before distracting you as he spoke about the next planet you were going to.

Marcus M

You felt Missy was now old enough to watch one of your favourite shows with you and so started from the beginning for the third time to watch together. You knew one of the saddest episodes were coming but thought since this would be the third time watching it you would be fine. You were wrong. Missy was a little upset but no where near you so you managed to hold in the tears as you walked out her room and climbed into bed with Marcus. You let the tears flow and he chuckled quietly, putting down his book and taking off his glasses as he pulled you onto his chest.

“Oh honey, still as sad as the first time?” he rubbed your back.

“Sadder! How can it get sadder every time?” you cried, your tears now leaving a wet patch on his grey t-shirt, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it is a sad episode. Remember I cried when I watched it too!”

“Oh yeah, you cried like a baby,” you laughed.

The both of you stayed curled up like that as he put on a funnier TV show for you both to have on in the background as you laughed at his reaction when he first watched the show.

Pero

Pero had never been to see a play before; mercenaries do not have that much downtime. Recently Pero decided to “hang up the sword” and take over the Blacksmith shop since he did not want to leave his wife for prolonged periods of times, especially since you were not carrying his child. As soon as you said you had to visit the nearby town for materials for your seamstress shop, he had the horse and cart packed for the journey. It was a short journey and easy enough to collect all the materials you needed. On the walk back to the cart, Pero saw you watch the people fill into the theatre to watch a play.

“Do you want to go watch as well, mi amor?”

“Its okay Pero, I know it is not how you would wish to spend your afternoon.”

“I wish to spend my afternoon with you, that is all,” Pero took your hand and walked you towards the theatre.

You hadn’t been to see a play since before you met Pero and were happy to be back in the excited atmosphere. It was a play you had never seen before, one that had you in tears by the end. Pero hadn’t noticed, his eyes half shut with sleep, until the play ended and he turned to face you. Your face was tear stained and eyes puffy.

“Mi amor?”

“It’s fine Pero, hormones,” you tried to laugh it off but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

He gently took your hand, placing a kiss to the back of your knuckles and helping you out of the seat, wrapping an arm around your waist in an unusual public display of affection as he walked you back to the cart. He let you sleep against his shoulder the whole way home, tired from tears and carrying his child, pressing kisses to your head and squeezing your leg every so often.

Marcus P

This man will be crying with you. With your work lives quite hectic for now, the both of you decided to find a TV show to watch together when you got home to spend some time together after work, curled up on the couch with a takeaway. This night you watched a particularly sad episode as you lay between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. You tried to hide your tears, facing forwards and letting them run down your face, but when you heard Marcus sniffle from behind you decided to turn and face him. The both of you laughed hard at how puffy each others eyes were, his arms tightening around your waist as he pulled you tighter against him.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one crying,” he spoke into your neck, his voice a little muffled.

“Me too,” you laughed, the tears still falling down your face.

“I think we should put something a little more lighthearted than this now, hm?”

“I think thats a good idea,” you laughed, turning your head to press a kiss to his cheek.

Whiskey

When Jack got home from his mission the last thing he expected was you curled up on the couch with a box of tissues and crying at the TV.

“Sweetheart, whats wrong?” he walked over to you, placing his hat on the rack and sitting by your side.

“This show! Why do they make it so sad?”

“Well, I could ask why you keep watching it if it makes you this sad?” he teased.

When he saw that your lips didn’t move from their pout, he gently pulled you onto his lap, your legs straddling his waist as you pressed into his neck. He kissed down your neck until your breathing calmed down a little and he finally pulled you back to look at him.

“How ‘bout you let me make you forget all about that show, hm?”

Your face finally cracked into a smile, leaning forward and taking lips in yours. After a minute of breathless kissing he stood up and wrapped your legs around his waist, walking towards the bedroom.

“Hell, why don’t we see if ol’ Jack can make you forget your own name...”

Dave

When Dave came home from work and noticed the light was still on in the living room he knew you would be watching your favourite show because you preferred watching it on the big TV. What he didn’t expect was to find you hysterically crying on the couch. He dropped his briefcase, quickly by your side and holding your face.

“What happened?”

“They-they-”

“Shhh, its okay deep breaths you can tell me,” he rubbed his thumbs back and forth over your cheeks.

“They killed him off!”

“Who did?”

“The show! They just- they just killed him off!”

“I thought you were hurt!” Dave’s suddenly worried face was covered in a grin as he let his back fall against the couch.

His hand came up to his chest, literally breathing out a sigh of relief as he laughed.

“Its not funny,” you sighed, letting yourself fall back next to him.

“Oh, honey,” he moved his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side and rubbing circles on your bare shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

He reached for the remote, clicking off the paused show you had been watching and putting something funnier on the TV as he let you curl up into his side, chuckling every so often but also pressing kisses into the top of your head.

Oberyn

He hadn’t expected you to cry so much at the play, almost regretting bringing you as he watched you wipe away the tears that were flowing down your cheeks. You turned to him, cheeks red and slightly embarrassed as you huffed a laugh. Oberyn reached out and wiped some of the tears with his hand before wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

“It’s okay, my love, I’ve got you,” he whispered into your ear.

He sat back in his chair more comfortably, letting you curl into his chest as he rubbed your back while you watched the rest of the play.

Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes @dihra-vesa @evyiione

#frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales x you #din djarin x you #marcus moreno x you #pero tovar x you #marcus pike x you #dave york x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #din djarin x reader #marcus moreno x reader #pero tovar x reader #marcus pike x reader #dave york x reader #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #headcannon

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onepiece-fics · 7 months

Text

Nami x reader; hammock cuddles

Summary: Nami and gender-neutral reader cuddling in a hammock. Thats the whole story.

Word count: 473

Content warning: Just wholesome fluff, reader gets flustered, mention of food and slight mention of alcohol/getting drunk.

Thank you so much anon for requesting<33

As Nami’s partner, you were, quite understandably, very touchy with her. You were always holding her hand, hugging her, reaching up for a kiss, or cuddling into her in one way or another. You always found a way to be close to her, and Nami of course didn’t mind at all. In fact, she found it a great way to tease a certain cook or to make the other crew members awkward.

You’re both laying in a hammock on deck, your head resting in the crook of her neck as she reads a magazine out loud for you. Her tangerine-coloured hair is tickling your face but you don’t mind, you just snuggle closer to avoid it.

“Oooh, honey, look at this! There’s supposed to be a big event on the next island we’re visiting! Do you think we should go?” she asks excitedly. You look up to her and see her wide smile, the thought of a party making her face light up, eyes exploring the pages of the magazine. You hum as a response and she looks down at you, reaching down to kiss your forehead.

“Do you think they’ll have free food there? I don’t wanna have to pay for everyone again…” she sighs. You giggle and reach up to kiss her jawline and cup her cheek with your right hand.

“Mmm I’m sure there will be a big buffet, it looks like a really big event, no?” you say. She hums in agreement and puts the magazine down to wrap her arms tightly around you, pulling you on top of her and giving you a quick peck on the lips. You both smile before you pull her back in for a proper kiss, her hands on your waist and yours cupping her blushing cheeks.

Cough.

You break apart quickly, embarrassed to know that someone was right there without you noticing. Nami rolls her eyes before asking Usopp what he wants.

“Uh well, its just that we’re approaching the island you were talking about. Franky wanted to talk to you before heading towards it” he says, avoiding both yours and Nami’s eyes. He was quite clearly embarrassed too and Nami smirks at him.

“Tell Franky I’ll be there in a minute” she says and Usopp quickly turns on his heels, walking awkwardly towards wherever the cyborg was at the time. You both laugh at the man and Nami gives you a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll be right back okay? You just wait right here” she says and gives you another peck on the lips and smiles. You nod and lie down, with a blush all over your face. You can’t wait until tonight, cuddling with Nami when you’re both tipsy after a party is the best, both sleepy and loopy. You sigh with a smile on your face.

“I can’t wait…”

#one piece #op #nami #nami x reader #nami fluff #nami reactions #one piece x reader #one piece reactions #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #nami fanfic #nami fanfiction

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radiowallet · 3 years

Note

Congrats on 500, Cat!! 🎉

So we know about the hammock in Marcus‘s backyard but I think I remember you also mentioning something about a tree fort? Any HCs you’d like to share?

💙 @patternedlantern

My beloved @patternedlantern First of all, thank you! You always remember these little things I say, and there is nothing in the world that makes me smile more. You are correct my dear, I did mention a tree fort. And he definitely built it himself.

"Marcus?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Why is there a pile of lumbar in our driveway?"

Marcus looks up from the newspaper and shoots a shy smile at his wife where she's regarding him with narrowed eyes, one hand resting on her stomach. It's merely a small bump at this point, but it gets bigger every day, and she glows brighter and brighter for every minute that passes. He steps around the kitchen island and kisses her soundly on the lips, before giving the same treatment to her tummy.

"Don't tell Mommy, princesa, but today I'm building you a tree fort."

"Marcus, we talked about this. A tree fort? The kid won't be able to use the thing for years. Plus, when you fall and break your neck I'll have two babies to take care of."

He ignores her and continues to talk only to her stomach. "You're going to have the best tree house in the whole neighbor, baby girl." He then presses one more quick kiss to Marina's cheek before he's backing out the kitchen and towards the front door, her fiery words following close behind.

"Marcus Moreno- This conversation isn't over! Come back here and face me like a man, idiota! And stop calling it a girl! We agreed we would be surprised! Marcus!"

"Marcus?"

He shakes his head and turns to look at you where you're leaning against the old wooden ladder leading up to Missy's tree fort, regarding him with quiet eyes.

"Where'd you go?"

He shakes his head and smiles before pressing a kiss to your lips.

"Just thinking that we should probably clean this up a little bit," he answers, tapping his knuckles against the tree for good measure.

You turn and look up, eyes squinting at the skyline, the late afternoon sun wrapped around you in a beautiful glow.

"Just do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Please don't fall out of it."

Tag List under cut

Tag List: @honestly-shite @shadowolf993 @agingerindenial @the-feckless-wonder @spacenerdpascal @tobealostwanderer @startrekkingaroundasgard @remusstark @thou-creature-of-the-deep @uncle-kenobi @janebby @spideysimpossiblegirl @day-off-inkyoto @anaaaispunk @codenamewife @writeforfandoms @phoenixhalliwell @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @rebel-fanfare @amneris21 @lawfulgranola @leias-rebelion @vibin-hippie @hnt-escape @leelee28901 @mandocrasis @patternedlantern @kaqua @voteforpedro09 @gingersnappe-9 @thirstworldproblemss @elinedjarin @jazzelsaur @hoff-mommy @paperbag33 @the-fever-of-mankind @thetypewriterimproviser @loserrlauraa @disgruntledspacedad @theamuz @sabsunflowergirl @librariantothejedi @juletheghoul @nerdthickly @andiesturgss @frankie-catfish-morales @dihra-vesa @asta-lily @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan@magnanimousmuse @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @anditsmywholeheart @justnat15 @frenchyjuju @notagamersdey @princess76179 @riddikulus-obsessions @popinahat @what-iwish-you-knew @sarasapen @lowlights @kesskirata @sarahjkl82-blog @heavenseed76 @Roxypeanut @princessxkenobi @djarinlatinlady @likes-good-reblogs-even-better @morenoswife @rosie-posie08 @tintinn16 @sherala007 @dobbyjen

#Marcus Moreno Head canon #Marcus Moreno x wife #marcus moreno x reader #ooops i made myself a little sad #and happy #it's a big bag of emotions #Cat's 500 Follower Celebration

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thosewickedlovelies · 3 years

Text

The answer | Frankie Morales x GN!Reader x Santiago Garcia

Summary: Questions are asked and answered. Takes place immediately following “Ask me”

Rating: E for Explicit

Tags: SMUT, threesome, reader is penetrated; best friends who have always been a little bit in love with each other vibes (inspired by this photo)

Word Count: 1,743

A/N: I’ve been kinda wanting to challenge myself to do a gender-neutral smut piece, and I thought this would be a good opportunity to do so :) I’ve never written anything like this before (in terms of both the gender-neutrality and the gay vibes), so I’m open to (gentle) constructive criticism <3

“Worry about me later, baby,” Frankie urges. “Right now what I want is to take care of you.” Nectar drips from his voice like that fateful fruit, slicking your descent toward sweet surrender.

"Or watch me take care of you, anyway,” Santiago adds. Still crouched on his knees before you, lips glistening, the round of his spine suggests laser-focus, a predator about to pounce. There’s a hint of a smirk on his face, but the look in eyes is deferent as he glances over your shoulder to Frankie.

Your partner’s body enfolds you like a silk hammock, a warm, rippling sea in which you have no fear of drowning. Frankie’s chest is bare and smooth against your back, supporting you as if he’s only here to reinforce your pleasure, and not partake of it himself. Although if his words from moments ago were any indication, he was indeed getting his own enjoyment:

“Too good to me, baby,” murmured through sloppy kisses and removing clothes.

“Fuck, you look so good between us,” groaned into your ear while you squirmed, callused fingers on your nipples and Santi's mouth on your neck.

“Yeah, let me hear you,” satisfaction barely audible over the irrepressible moan that Santi drew from you as he slowly worked you open.

Meaningfully Frankie skates his palms down over your hips, dipping tantalizingly close to the burning between them before winging away. Fingers digging into the plush flesh, he spreads your thighs for Santi.

Again. The air vanishes from your lungs at Frankie’s gesture.

He keeps you pinned open as Santiago inches forward and you’re certain you’re trembling, even as fresh arousal wells in anticipation. This feels so much more, somehow- suddenly immediate and undeniable that you’re really here, about to be fucked by your boyfriend’s best friend while said boyfriend holds you open for him.

Perhaps because this isn’t just affecting you. You note, through the throbbing heat demanding your attention, the tension in Frankie’s body framing you. How careful Santi is about where he places his hands- on you or the couch, no longer bold and teasing with Frankie. The skitter of his gaze, like he doesn’t know quite where to focus now that he’s facing both of you so directly. You wonder where Frankie is looking.

When Santi is finally nestled to the base inside you, an inch for every panting breath, you’re not the only shaky one. His muscles quiver with the effort of holding himself over you, the feeling of you engulfing him threatening to overwhelm his good sense. For a moment there is only the strained rise and fall of your chests as both men wait for you to adjust. It’s akin to being rocked by the swells of an ocean, only in this case your anchor is Santiago, keeping his hips flush with yours, keeping you present on the delicious, searing stretch of his cock.

Frankie’s tongue on your neck makes you shiver, and Santi gasps when you clench around him. Smiling, you admire the gleam of sweat at his temples, the desperate lines around his squeezed-shut eyes. It’s difficult to maneuver yourself in this position, but you arch your body into his as best you can, giving him permission to move with a squeeze of his muscular ass.

A raspy laugh slips from him. It’s a bit clumsy at first- accommodating to the weave of limbs in which the three of you are entangled. Possibly this would be easier on a bed or even the floor, but it’s far too late to move now, lost in each other as you are. You know the boys would agree- even if you had the opportunity to be transported with merely a snap of the fingers, it feels right that this should happen here, on a slightly cramped couch, stifling smiles and snorts of laughter but never your eagerness for each other.

Santiago is impossibly beautiful like this. Every hard-earned muscle on display, working in harmony to the cadence that’s always swayed the three of you, however unconsciously. His eyes half-lidded and hazy, his little groans of effort and pleasure complementing Frankie’s caresses. It’s clear from Frankie’s own awed murmurs that he’s experiencing the same bliss you are, and he lets his hands linger on your front so his knuckles brush Santi’s torso. Like strings on a loom pulling gradually tighter, the design you three are creating becomes steadily clearer.

“Damn,” Frankie says hoarsely. The angle of your head prevents you from seeing his expression fully, but you make a wordless sound of wholehearted agreement.

“Mm?” Santiago hums in question despite his own daze, spying something in Frankie’s face that you missed.

“Just…it’s obvious which one of us aged better.”

Frankie’s voice is strained, his body tense. He’s been hard since the moment Santiago said yes, but a tangible slippery patch has grown against your back while the other man rocked in and out of you, long, measured strokes making an easy smear of Frankie’s cock.

Santi looks up, startled. Then his smile crooks. “Shut up, Frank,” he laughs, and the kiss to your shoulder doesn’t feel like it’s for you.

Frankie chuckles, raspy and affectionate, and it’s like the picture is finally identifiable, an outline of this potential future woven clear.

The turn of your head gets their attention. Santiago slows his hips as you stretch your neck toward Frankie, his lips just reachable in this position. But Santi’s thrusts still entirely when you face him next, your kiss brim-full of the same contentment you’d given Frankie. Something fraught flickers between the two men when you pull back; Santiago looks almost shy as, hesitantly and then all at once, he presses his lips to the corner of Frankie’s mouth for a lingering, reverent second.

Frankie’s eyes close and his head tips back as Santi drops his forehead to your shoulder. His curls catch on the bristly hair of Frankie’s jaw, steady, rhythmic again, and you’re not sure of the delineations between your bodies anymore. You feel full, in more ways than one, surrounded both physically and emotionally.

Frankie’s moans are music to your ears as you reach behind you, stroking his cock as best you can while semi-laying on it. Fuck, his husky sounds never fail to heat your blood- a new experience for Santiago, you’re guessing, from the way his eyes flare, fixed on his friend’s dropped-open mouth. There’s been no particular hurry to your activities thus far, but a sense of urgency is growing now, blossoming with every drag of skin on skin, every throaty plea weighting the humid air.

It’s not long before Santi’s grasp on your shoulder slips, flushed with sweat as you are. Fumbling, he braces himself on Frankie’s broader frame, and your partner holds his hand in place, unthinking. Santiago swears. He looks you over, eyes a little wild, then back up at Frankie, imploring.

Obliging, Frankie’s other hand snakes down your front, fingers searching, circling where you’re most sensitive. Distantly you’re aware of him rutting against your back, tiny whines scraping his throat with a familiar desperation. Everything in you tightens around the slick jerk of his fingers.

You cry out as you come, hips arching into Santiago, flattening Frankie’s hand between you. Santi gasps ragged and guttural as you spasm around him, and your rapture careens abruptly higher at the speed and force with which he’s suddenly slamming into you. A jumble of hands hold your shuddering frame in place as Santiago finds his own release, shoving the three of you impossibly deeper into each other.

For a moment it feels as if you’re floating, your body tethered only by the bruising clutch of your hands and theirs. As your awareness returns, you notice that Frankie is rigid behind you, still quivering, his lower half contorted as if to gain as much contact with your skin as possible.

Oh. There’s far too much wetness against your back for it to just be sweat.

A giddy, dreamy laugh wisps from your next exhale. Frankie doesn’t react, but Santi rolls his head to face you with a drowsy hm?

You disentangle one of your hands and lift it to gently rub Frankie’s scalp with your fingertips, tousling the curls as if scratching a pet’s ears. “Just glad we were all able to make it.” Your still-breathless tone carries your meaning. You twist your head to kiss the nearest bit of him, which happens to be his jaw.

Santi lifts his head, his expression somewhere between surprised and smug. Frankie only gives an airy shrug, inclining his head to mouth at your shoulder; the space now shared by both men’s faces.

“Meant what I said,” Frankie offers in his low voice. His gaze flits over what it can reach of Santiago’s naked body.

Surprise completely overtakes the smugness in Santi’s face, his mouth curving up as if he’s powerless to stop it. You observe in delighted disbelief. You know from experience how much it normally takes to make Santiago blush- yet here he is, all afluster at a few words from Frankie. Chuckling, Santi ducks his head again.

You wriggle sideways slightly so as to better see more of Frankie’s face, a shift that results in Santi leaning on him with his whole arm and flank. The thoughtful flicker of his eyes over Frankie’s further exposed torso doesn’t go unnoticed.

“We’ll see,” is all Santiago says; but his contentment is palpable, his tiny smile a confession. Frankie relaxes as the other man collapses again, this time with his head more on Frankie’s shoulder than yours.

The sun is past its peak now, longer shadows interrupting its shine through the windows, but the three of you don’t need it. You can all but see the afterglow illuminating, the way the filaments of a lantern gradually brighten as they warm, casting gentle light on the possibilities presented here.

You regard Santi with an indulgent smile. You sweep it up to Frankie next, softening at the sight of his unruly hair and the relief with which he returns it. There’s an unspeakable kind of gratitude mingling with the adoration in his eyes. As if his thanks could possibly be necessary; as if you would have ever denied either of them the opportunity to explore such long-contained feelings, no matter what your original proposition for this afternoon may have been.

“Next time,” Frankie murmurs, his lips brushing Santiago’s brow, “we’re doing this in a bed.”

Taglist: @thirstworldproblemss, @leonieb

#triple frontier fic #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #frankie x reader x santi #triple frontier imagine

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thefloorisbalaclava · 3 years

Note

Man I wish Frankie existed right about now- I need some cuddles 😔

You and me both, anon!

A/N: Just something short and sweet! I really needed this today.

[Frankie masterlist]

---

On clear days like this you usually find Frankie in the backyard. Sometimes he's in the garden, up to his elbows in dirt. Sometimes he's fixing something (or trying to) and you just sit back and watch him work, loving the look of concentration etched on his face.

Today, you find him in the hammock, swinging left and right slowly. He has his cap pulled down over his face, one hand is at his side and the other hanging is off the hammock. You are sure he's sleeping so you watch him quietly for a little while. As you pull out your phone to take a quick photo, he speaks.

"You gonna join me or just watch?" he asks and you jump.

"I thought you were sleeping." You put a hand over your heart. "I'm not getting in that hammock," you tell him.

"Not even to cuddle with the love of your life?" He lifts his hat off his face revealing a pout.

"Don't even try it." You point at him. "We're gonna go flipping out that thing..."

"Tell me, is that like...an actual phobia orrr...," he teases and you roll your eyes. "Come on. Try it. For me." Another pout.

"...damn you," you huff as you put your phone away and walk closer to the hammock. He sits up a little and reaches for you. "Frankie..."

"You got this." He helps you get one knee up then suddenly grabs you around the waist and pulls you into the hammock, making you yelp. It swings left to right and wiggles precariously as you hold onto Frankie.

"Why would you do that?!" you scold. You look at him and he's smiling brighter than ever. "It's not funny."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry." Frankie puts his arms around you and the hammock eventually slows to a calm swing. You glare at him but eventually you both laugh and you rest your head on his chest.

"You did it, baby," he says quietly before kissing the top of your head. "I got my baaaby and we're cuuuudlin' in a hammmmock," he sings.

"Oh, that's gonna be a number one hit," you joke.

"Damn right it is." He moves a little and you gasp, clinging to him tighter.

"Are you doing that on purpose?" you ask.

"Maybe. I really like the way you hold me tighter whenever I move the hammock just a little." He does it again to demonstrate and you cry out.

"Frankie! You know if we fall off you may not be able to get back up," you say.

"Yes we-- wait, did you say I wouldn't be able to get back up?"

You play with the hem of his v-neck as you smile to yourself. "Yup. You'll fall and your back will be hurting for weeks. Then you'll walk around the house like an old man all week." You're holding back a laugh now.

"Not if I use you to break my fall," he chuckles before making the hammock tilt a little too far to one. You scream and hide your face against his shirt as you hold onto him for dear life. "Who are you calling old man, huh?" he asks, holding onto you. You giggle but your heart is beating out your chest.

"Cut it out, Frankie. I don't wanna fall."

"Fine, but only because I love you." He rubs your back and you sneak a hand up under his shirt to rub on his tummy. He hums happily. "Is this your way of apologizing for calling me old?"

"Nope. I just love this tummy." You poke it and he chuckles. "So soft." You close your eyes and sigh, running your fingers along the waist band of his jeans.

"Careful now..." He pulls your hand away then laces his fingers with yours. "I love cuddling with my baby on a beautiful day."

"We should do this more often."

"Well, since you seem to have gotten over your fear of hammocks, we can do this whenever you like. Can I have a kiss?" he asks.

You lift your head and pucker your lips. He kisses you once, twice, three times.

"What happens if I do fall out though?"

"I'll always be there to break your fall, baby," he says, squeezing you a little. "Always."

frankie taglist: @fakenoods @oldstuffnewstuff @the-bird-suit @lestrange2703 @findhimfives @windfallss @limenlimon @66wookies @rach7 @surfsup666 @theghostwiththemost-babe @marshmallow–3 @mrschiltoncat @aplaceofpeace @josepedropascal @mitchi-c @panda-angela @jeeperky @allthingsnarcos @laymegentlytorest @stanfordscrush @fangirlingss @damerondjarin @darthdumbasss @helga1031 @triggerhappyflygirl @master-obi-wan-kenboneme @ladybeediva @heythere80sbaby

permanent taglist: @gallowsjoker @magicsuperheroes @feelmyroarrrr @the-dazzling-urbanite @phoenixhalliwell @liveloudwriteloud @tumblogbykarapaloma @jaime1110 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @pascalz @blancatobarxoxo @dazedrhapsody @pascalisthepunkest @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @cryptkeepersoul @tiffdawg @freak-of-nature2002 @kingpascals @saltywintersoldat @theocatkov @babybelou @mandilflorian @aeryntheofficial @cyaredindjarin @winters-buck @the-feckless-wonder @loki-098 @arabellathorne @giselatropicana @dindisneydjarin @punkpascal @opheliaelysia @takens-world @huliabitch @stardelic @kandomeresbitch @havenforafrazzledmind @thisis-theway @stardust-galaxies @mrsparknuts @jedi-mando @frankiemorales @edencherries @lilkermit14 @virtualxjournality @ladytrashbird @thirstworldproblemss @emesispo @heresathreebee @tangledlove27 @marvgrrl @clydes-hole @hayley-the-comet @insoucianttt @witchyavenger @coaaster @starless-eyes-remain @wanderlustmags @wonderfulfluffer @lv7867 @lovelyasfcuk @pedropasscals @talesfromtheguild @pedroepascal @wigwitch @seasonschange-butpeopledont @theoria850 @roxypeanut @justanotherblonde23 @autumnleaves1991-blog @kenedyybrooklin @artsymaddie @dindjareen @silverfish-kingdom @heyitmelexie @gredandfeorgesgirl @mandaloriandindjarin @andriecastana @rosiefridayrogersunday @ssppoorrkk @amalie-buch @lucifer- @mstgsmy @randomness501 @max–phillips @darthadeline @youarenewformetoo @thehippiequilter @whovian-gurl @neverlandlibrarian @chibi-liz05 @dragons-of-the-usa @over300books

i hope everyone is where they want to be! let me know if you want to be changed around! join a taglist here!

#frankie morales #headcanon

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pikemoreno · 4 years

Text

colors

pairing: catfish morales x reader

summary: a summer with frankie, as told by colors

word count: 5k

warnings: mentions of drug use (but no actual use!), talk of frankie’s past (so there’s some violence, death, ptsd), there’s some fluff, some angst, what can ya do!

a/n: an idea brought about by a similar fic i’d written for another fandom + talking about what summer with frankie is like with @lesqui.

i liked it for a while. now i’ve stared at it so long that i kinda hate it. but hopefully you enjoy it at least a little!

( @hdlynn, this is me tagging you as requested. ily.)

Summers with Frankie were green.

Frankie was ever the outdoorsman. He would spend every single hour of the warm days outside if he could, sleeping with the canopy of leaves as a ceiling, the soft grass as a floor, and a hammock strung between trees the only thing separating him from either. He did it on multiple occasions over the warm days: spending the night in the backyard. The less-than-luxurious sleeping arrangements weren’t exactly doing wonders for his aching, overused joints, but it did wonders for his mind. Disconnecting like that calmed him in ways nothing else ever could. Sometimes he’d go by himself to get away, but he didn’t like it nearly as much as when you or Santiago went with him. (He had found too much time in complete solitude outside had the opposite effect; too much time to think.) You were, of course, more than happy to oblige and go with him.

“It includes a nice view. And you... An even nicer view,” you would tell him, “Of course I wanna join.” That always sent warmth right to his cheeks.

The views were nice: wispy clouds and darkening skies interrupted by the trees that stretched overhead, their colors muting as night overtook the forested backyard; and beautiful Frankie, setting up his hammock. You watched from your hammock as he pulled his own taught, admiring the muscles in his back that were visible beneath his henley. You didn’t think you were staring that hard but then...

“Admiring that view, sweetheart?” he asked as he turned around, pleased with his work and the way your gaze rested heavily on him.

“Mhmm… Why are you bothering with that one anyway? You know you’re not gonna be using it. You’re gonna be over here in mine--” You didn’t finish. He’d sauntered over, hands resting on the fabric on either side of your head.

“Go on. What am I gonna be doing instead?” he breathed, teasing.

“Probably me.”

“You think so?” he hummed, “Maybe I should be bringing you out here more often.” His arms still supported him as he hovered above you just out of reach. You were growing painfully impatient

“Oh, just shut up and fucking kiss me already.” You swatted at his arm to get him to come down to your level and he took no more time in-- finally-- meeting your lips. You snagged the cap off of his head, letting it fall to the grass below. He was already too entranced to notice, but he certainly did notice the way your fingers tangled in his hair, the way your lips parted upon contact. He deepened the kiss in response, shakily getting himself onto the hammock to kneel over you and free up his hands. The kiss only broke when he let out an:

“Oh shi--”.

In a split second, you felt the hammock tip precariously to one side before it returned to normal. You opened your eyes to find Frankie, still hovering just above you, looking as though he’d just escaped death: wide eyes, heavy breaths, hands gripping the edges of the hammock’s fabric. You felt the breath of his laugh against your lips and a mumbled:

“Whoops.”

You laughed too. The kissing resumed, full of life and breath and utter joy, eventually travelling to your jaw and neck, hitting every spot he knew so well. Both of your hands travelling lower, lower…

You were right, of course. There was absolutely no need for the second hammock. It hung lamely from the two oak trees, moved only by strong breezes and not the shifting weight of a body. As expected, Frankie never left yours.

“I almost died getting up here. There’s no way I’m pressing my luck by trying to leave tonight,” he argued as he pulled you in to himself.

“Sure,” you quipped back, letting your head rest on his chest. The henley had long since been discarded, laying on the grass with the cap. You sighed at the closeness: legs tangled; an arm, gentle, but strong around you; fingers drawing light patterns on your own bared shoulder. The trees above you and the stars just past them seemed closer too, all wrapping you up in serene safety as you drifted off.

Summers with Frankie were green. Green like the trees and the grass that surrounded you that night. Green like the feelings of safety and harmony that bloomed in your chest.

Summers with Frankie were blue.

There was a creek near the house Frankie grew up in. It was the last stop of many on the grand tour he had taken you on through his old childhood haunts, and it was probably the one he was most excited for. Sure, he was excited that you’d gotten to meet his parents for lunch and see his old house and all of the memories with it, but his old creek. This was hallowed ground.

He led you over rocks and down slopes to the “best spot” on the creek. Despite the way the creek you sought was rushing mere feet away, you continued farther and farther down the cragged, unforged path.

“I promise, this other spot is way better. It’s calm and it’s not as rocky and there’s this rope swing we put up one summer and--” He went on and on, praising the place of his childhood. You didn’t understand the difference between here and there, but you trusted the enthusiasm in his eyes and his years of experience, which he obviously had. Frankie’s feet still knew every step as if he could see a trail where you couldn’t. With every “careful here” and “hold on let me go first,” as he slid down a steep slope, it was as if he’d carved the path into the earth himself. He pointed out memories to you as you walked on.

“This scar here?” he briefly pointed to a raised mark on the back of his calf and then a boulder more than twice your height to your right. “My best friend in 5th grade dared me to jump off it. Fell on my ass and a rock stuck in my leg at the bottom.” You winced at the thought. “Yeah, it felt like it sounds. Cracked my tailbone too, couldn’t sit right for a month.” He fell into step with you and laced your fingers together. “But... “ He turned toward the river now, taking you through the patch of trees to where the forest floor sloped down to meet the bank.

It really was better here.

The harsh rocks gave way to soft, silty ground and then quiet, lapping waters. It really was the perfect spot for a lazy swim and a jump from the rope that hung from a solitary tree, grown sideways over the bank. Otherwise, the tree canopy fell away here to the brightest skies that warmed the current-smoothed rocks further down the way. It took your breath away, not the way the Grand Canyon does, or the beautiful clear seas of some far off island paradise, but in its own little way, especially as you saw it through Frankie’s eyes. It was the rose-colored view of a boy grasping onto memories that were kinder to him than these recent years had been. You memorized the brightness of his face, the glow had little to do with the summer sun warming his cheeks and everything to do with worlds colliding: the pure joy of bringing his favorite person to his favorite place, like a child dragging you to the toy store window. You ran down to the water like those children, leaving socks and shoes and cover-ups strewn in your wake.

Your newly bare toes sank into the muddy, silty bank. It squished in a gross way, but the cool earth felt so good. The light waves lapped against your toes and little minnows swam up to check you out, darting away in scaly flashes when you took a step. Frankie was quick to get right into the water, testing his old beloved rope swing. The branch creaked with the unfamiliar weight, but held strong as he flung himself into the water, creating unnatural waves in it that raced all the way to you, where you were thigh deep in the cool depths now.

Five seconds… Ten… Then twenty. You looked a little nervously to where the rings had now diminished, but you were looking in all the wrong places. Frankie had swam over to you, using the opacity of the water to sneak up on you. You were none the wiser when he grabbed your ankle, causing you to gasp with a few choice expletives as you fell into the water with a splash. You could hear Frankie’s muffled laugh as he rose from underneath the surface as you became submerged in it. You shot back up, spluttering.

“What the hell, Frankie?” He was still laughing.

“Sorry,” he managed to wheeze out. He wasn’t. You narrowed your eyes playfully as he finally calmed down. “Really. I didn’t think it’d scare you that badly.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped yours around his neck as you both drifted further into the water.

“What did you think would snatch you in a 7 foot deep creek? A shark?”

“A catfish?” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. “I guess one did.”

“I’ll always snatch you up.”

“Nerd.”

“Dork.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You couldn’t tell if the kiss or the creek made you feel like you were floating.

After fingers and toes turned pruney you laid out on the pleasantly warm, almost unnaturally smooth rocks to dry. The deep sky above went on forever and left you with eyes half-lidded, warm and happy.

“You know, I had my first kiss on this rock,” Frankie broke the comfortable silence.

“Is that why you brought me here? This where you bring all the girls, casanova?” He gave you a little shove.

“Jealous?”

“Of your, what? 9th grade girlfriend? Absolutely not.”

“8th grade, actually.”

“Was that before or after your 5th grade best friend stole your date to the 8th grade dance?” you teased, turning on your side to look at him, head resting on your hand.

“After.” he grinned at the memory, “It was Sally Mason. My rebound,” he teased.

“An 8th grade rebound,” you mused.

“Yeah, not much to be jealous of. The kiss was pretty bad anyway. We knocked our teeth together, eyes open,” he shook his head, “I’ve gotten a lot better since then.”

“Oh have you?” He gaped.

“Have I not?”

“You should probably remind me.”

“Not after that comment.” He pouted, but the dimple that rose in his cheek ruined the act. He couldn’t stop the grin.

“Come onnn, don’t you wanna take this old rock for another spin?” you crawled over until your face was hovering above his. You kissed either cheek, then several more pecks in quick succession when he didn’t respond. He broke, pulling you down to bring his lips to yours.

“Much better,” he murmured against your lips before leaving another quick peck.

Darkening skies eventually sent you home, delightfully tired. Frankie was quiet on the way back, but you chalked it up to the exhausted bliss you also felt. The long day in the sun had you passing out immediately after falling into bed. You were so utterly dead to the world that you didn’t notice when Frankie didn’t immediately join you.

***

He sat on the edge of the bed for a while, hoping your soft breathing behind him and the darkness and the comfort of the mattress would bring some semblance of peace.

It didn’t.

His thoughts were so very loud they woke him right back up; and worrying about sleeping made him spiral that much further, just another thought racing around and around with the others. He needed to be busy, to work himself into exhaustion like forcing a computer to power down. He moved to the kitchen to pace without disturbing you.

He hated what life had made of him.

He hated how his favorite place had seen him like this. The place he spent all of his school years living and breathing in had seen an entirely different man than what he had remembered. It had remained the same: steadfast, reliable, safe. Every tree and hill and hole was exactly the same.

But it felt so different, foreign. Like the woods he loved didn’t quite recognize him the way he recognized them.

It was hallowed ground and he was a sinner.

He’d seen war and death-- caused war and death--, and he still saw it everywhere he went. The creek looked red with the blood he spilled.

Not its fault, but his.

He hated how different it was. This was supposed to be a special day, sharing a place so full of fond memories with the person he wanted to make a life’s worth of new memories with. Instead, it left him wanting, wishing he was still the person he was: a little older, sure, maybe a little smarter, but with the same curiosity and innocence and joy, the same zest for life. Not this man who was so hurt and untrusting and angry. He wanted to be like that boy again. He wanted it for her, she deserved better. For his favorite place, so that it would remember him the and, he guessed, for himself too.

His hands rested on the cool countertop, trying to get his breathing under control, willing the threat of tears away. This was bullshit. Things were how they were, he was who he was, and it was just a fucking creek. He shouldn’t be fucking crying.

He’d be fine in the morning, he decided, but for now, he needed to numb it. He debated for a moment, fingers gripping onto and then relaxing against the edge of the counter before he pushed away from it and to one long-forgotten little cabinet in the kitchen.

He’d fully kicked the coke habit months ago. After coming back from South America for the last time-- the actual last time-- it just didn’t matter so much anymore. Being that close to his death once again reminded him just how fragile his life was and how much better he could be doing.

In its wake, it left a lot of problems that he didn’t know what to do with. You were always there; and it meant more than you could ever know, really. But even your soft touches and listening ear-- and some well-placed tough love-- could not drown everything out.

He needed to be numb again.

If he remembered right, he had the tiniest amount of the substance left in the back of the cabinet. There wasn’t really a reason to keep it, but just knowing he had it if he needed it made him feel safer in some crooked, fucked up way. He didn’t tell you about that part.

He had barely begun to walk away from the cabinet when he heard footsteps on hardwood. He met sleepy eyes that looked between the clear bag in his hand and his grim face. He watched the heartbreak take root in those eyes he loved. Your shoulders slumped a little and your hand gently, sleepily reached out to him,

“Cat,” you whispered. You were so clearly disappointed. You had been his biggest cheerleader in this and now he was going back to square one. He was such a screw up. All at once he realized what he was doing. The baggy fell to the floor and he crumpled onto his knees behind it, sobbing into his hands in a way he hadn’t done in months.

“I can’t do it,” he mumbled. He felt your presence now on the floor next to him, felt your hand as it lovingly rubbed his back.

“What can’t you do, my love?”

Anything.

He didn’t respond. He just cried as your hand kept rubbing soothing circles. You were too good to him. You knew exactly what he needed, of course. He didn’t need overbearing attempts at comforting, he didn’t need a solution, he just needed a comfortable, patient presence until he could figure out what the hell was wrong with him.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffed, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” you pressed a feather light kiss to his hair, “You have nothing to be sorry for, you hear me? You’re ok, baby. Just take some deep breaths for me.” He did. “Good, that’s good. You’re alright, Frankie.” His breathing evened and the two of you sat on the floor, backs against the counter. You gently played with his fingers as the last remaining sniffles subsided.

“I-- I’m,” he started trying to explain, but there were no words.

“Shh,” you soothed, “Not a conversation we need to have tonight. Let’s go to bed, yeah?” You stood with him, arms around each other as you walked back to bed.

When you were both laid down, lights off, your back against his chest, his arm laying over your waist, you whispered his name.

“Hmm?” he answered, dreamily.

“You know that I’m here for you right? For whatever you need. You don’t need to try to get rid of it with that shit? I’m here to work through anything with you.”

“Yeah, I know.” The silence after demanded more be said, but nothing more came.

“Yeah, I know.” I know you’re here, but I don’t want your help. The quiet taunted you.

He finally let sleep take him. Yours came uncomfortably.

Summers with Frankie were blue.

Blue like the easy lapping waters and the blazing blue of the sky on a sunny, lazy day. Blue like his memories, now tainted with time. Blue like the sinking feeling in your chest when you realized there was nothing you could do about it.

Summers with Frankie were red.

You woke up groggily to beaming light and an empty bed. As the memories of the early morning hours flooded back, you panicked, wondering if he--

Fear won out over exhaustion and you ran to the kitchen.

The bag of white powder was gone from the floor. Frankie was at the sink, scrubbing fiercely at a mug. That couldn’t be good.

“I took care of it,” he stated blankly over his shoulder. He was already so embarrassed, so angry at himself. He didn’t want to have this conversation.

“Took care of it, how?” He all but slammed the mug down. That was the wrong question right about now.

“I didn’t use it, if that’s what you mean.” There was an unmistakable bite to his tone. It startled you a little. Frankie was as mild-mannered as they came. You’d seen him angry, sure; no one was perfect. But it had never before been directed at you. It stung.

“Frankie, I-” you tried to backtrack

“You think I’ve been using again?” He was turned fully now to face you, but his fingers gripped the edge of the counter behind him, knuckles turning white with the pressure: angry, panicking.

“And what the hell am I supposed to think after last night? Hmm? I found you in here taking--” you froze then bolted to the cabinet. Frankie tried to argue, to stop you, but it was too late. You had the offending substance in your hand, and your frustration was burning as hot as his now. You stomped to the bathroom.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“What you should’ve done months ago,” your tone was poisonous.

“I need it!” He tried to yank it out of your hand.

“No you don’t!”

“I need it! Just in case. Just in case I-”

“Why am I not enough Frankie?” you finally yelled out. He dropped his hold on the bag. It fell back into your hand. It felt so incredibly heavy. You dropped it.

“What?” All of the anger was gone from his voice. It was light as a whisper. “Shit, do you think that’s what this is? That it’s your fault?” His expression grew softer, contrasting the prominence of the crease between his eyebrows as he tilted his head at you. You ran your hands through your hair in frustration, walking out of the bathroom. He followed.

“We’re not done here, baby. Don’t walk away from me.” The hallway had never felt more constricting. His hands came to your waist, spinning you to face him. Eyes searched your face, waiting for your answer

“Yes, Frankie. Yes. I feel like I failed you. I feel like I haven’t helped you like I should. That’s how most people deal with their problems: they talk to someone, they work through it. Obviously I’ve done something wrong here because that’s not what happened. You shouldn’t have to turn to drugs instead of me.” You shook your head, trying to clear your watering eyes. “You got help. You don’t need this anymore.” The breath he took in was sharp.

“I know… I know.” Hands squeezed lightly against your waist. “But what I was feeling yesterday. I- I can’t put that on you. What I’ve seen and done and how that affects me… It’s not always something I can just talk about. It’s a lot, it’s heavy. You haven’t experienced it and I don’t want you to, even second-hand. It’s not a you thing. It’s just a-- thing.” Your eyes went to the floor, but he lifted your chin back up to meet your eyes. “It’s not on you, you got that? You’ve done so much for me. More than you know. Sometimes it’s just… Too much for either of us. It can’t be solved that easily all the time.” You nodded.

“It still doesn’t mean that should be your go-to instead, Cat.” He sighed.

“You’re right. It shouldn’t. I gotta find a better coping method when I can’t talk to you, or it’s too late to call one of the guys about it. But for now,” he punctuated by taking you by the hand, walking you back to the bathroom, and picking up the bag that started all of this. He held it up, presenting it to you before flushing every last bit of it. He smiled back at you. He looked so proud of himself. The weight that he carried on his shoulders looked as if it’d become twenty pounds lighter.

“That’s for you.”

“No…” Your arms went around his neck and his found your waist once again. “...It’s for you. That is the best thing you could’ve done for yourself. Proud of you, Cat.” You brought your foreheads together, resting there a minute.

“I love you.” It was so lightly whispered that you might’ve missed it completely if you hadn’t felt it on your lips. “And I’m sorry I got angry. It wasn’t at you.”

“I love you. I’m sorry I got angry too.” You stole a quick, forgiving kiss, then pulled back. “Now, I don’t know about you, but my sleep last night was terrible.” He nodded in agreement. “Care to join me for a nap?”

“Yes please.”

The rest of the afternoon was full of soft embraces and apologies for misunderstandings. You floated in and out of consciousness, broken up only by instances of “more strenuous activities”, quick kitchen runs for snacks, and one shared shower.

Day blended seamlessly into night until your dreams were interrupted by a far off whisper and a vague feeling of being shaken. You blinked awake and met Frankie’s grinning eyes. It was still pitch black outside.

“C’mon,” he whispered, clambering back to the edge of the bed to lace up his shoes.

“What time is it?” you murmured.

“Late,” you heard the grin in his voice. “Well, early, actually, I guess.”

“What are we doing?”

“Don’t worry about it. That’s my job.” He looked back at you, “Hungry?” You considered a moment.

“Yeah, actually. Is this a Hal’s run?”

“Shhh.. You’re ruining it. What are you still doing in bed? Go get ready!”

“Alright, alright. Sheesh. Wakes me up at,” you finally looked at the clock as you crawled out of bed, “4am and now he’s all bossy.” He threw a pillow at you; you laughed.

Twenty minutes later you were sitting in Frankie’s pick-up, windows down as he drove. The rush of wind against your face brought the smells of the fields you passed: grass and wildflowers and something distinctly summer. The crickets were chirping loud and proud, a perfect compliment to the soft music from the radio. There was no talking, but it was a comfortable silence. The most comfortable you’ve ever felt. Sodium vapor streetlights intermittently interrupted the darkness behind your eyelids as you closed your eyes to take it all in.

“You ok?” came a whisper as light as the breeze.

“Never been better,” you whispered back. You heard him chuckle as musical as the crickets.

The best diner in the city coming into view was by far the most beautiful sight you’d seen in weeks. You’d seen it often during the evening hours, as the sun went down and the last remains of the “dinner rush” finished (which consisted of fifteen parties in the tiny place instead of the usual five). It was kind of beautiful like this. Hauntingly beautiful. It looked like one of the places where time doesn’t exist. Its neons flashed between “Hal’s Diner” and “Open 24 hours” in gaudy fashion for no one in particular-- there were no cars in the lot and none on the road at this hour

You liked to think Hal’s single handedly proved the theory that hole-in-the-wall places always serve the best food. The sign on the window read “Hal’s: Since 1962.” You thought it should read “Hal’s: Has not updated since 1962.”

But none of that mattered once they put down that plate of just-greasy-enough diner food. As you popped a fry in your mouth you decided that if torn and re-taped leather booths and old light fixtures meant they could keep serving food like this, then that is perfectly fine with you.

You really tried to keep your voices hushed in reverence of the graveyard shift employees who looked utterly exhausted, but you couldn’t contain your laughter as you watched Frankie bang on the back of a ketchup bottle, only to have nearly a quarter of the bottle splatter onto his plate. He gaped at it as you cackled.

“Gee, Frankie, want some fries with your ketchup?” you teased once you had control of yourself again. You dipped one of your fries in the pile.

“It’s too early for this shit,” he muttered to himself, closing the bottle and putting it back. But the grin you shared told you he wouldn’t give up these silly little 5am moments for anything.

When you’d devoured all of your food-- and some of the ketchup-- you left a generous tip on the table for the poor waitress and headed back out into the balmy summer air. The clock on the dash read 6:15am and you found yourselves passing the beginnings of morning commuters. You looked at him as you passed by the road to go home, about to question him, but he only smiled back at you with a look that said “trust me.”

Summers with Frankie were red. Red like deep hurts and anger at what can’t be changed. Red like danger signs. Red like diner neons and a gratuitous pile of ketchup. Red like love blossoming after a harsh storm.

As Frankie drove up a mountain pass at 6:45 on one of the last summer days, you thought about the summer spent with him. It was all of those colors: harmonic greens, calming blues, and overwhelming reds; and as you looked at the man next to you, putting his pick-up into park and telling you to “c’mon”, you decided he was too. He was all of those colors.

He was softly green. He preferred to be surrounded by green, after all; it was no wonder that it bled into him so effortlessly. He was so easy-going and mild-mannered, seeking peace and happiness with those around him. To you, he was safety; reliable as the grass beneath your feet.

But he had his blues. He was calming and joyful, free as the birds in a light blue sky. You saw that in him as you watched him tumble off of the rope swing or crack jokes with his dad. It was light and breezy, but too soon followed by blues of darkest night. You wished you could take the dark blues right out of him. Someone like him should never have to face dark blue feelings and dark blue memories. All you could do was stay with him in the storm.

But he was red too and it was a double-edged sword. He was one of the most passionate people you’d ever met, for better or worse. His usual mild-mannered attitude could not hold its own against the fury of injustice or bitter wishes that the world be different or, heartbreakingly, unbridled anger at himself for the pain he’s inflicted. But oh was he just as passionate about you: loving you, laughing with you, making things work with you. That passion that lead to anger was the same passion that loved you more deeply than anything.

But then again, no.

You sat in the truck bed with your Frankie, watching the sun rise over an untouched valley. The view was absolutely breathtaking. All of the sunrise’s swirling hues melted together so they were inseparable from one another, making a new color all its own. You decided it then:

Frankie wasn’t just green, blue, and red, all separate and incompatible with one another.

He was so much more, a swirling shade all his own.

Every bit of it was him, and it was your favorite color.

(Moodboards by @aerynwrites)

#frankie morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #bri writes

299 notes · View notes

edourado · 4 years

Text

Together, ch. X

Who is tired of Frank marveling about Karen? Too bad, because I’m not!

(If you’re nice enough to me I’ll throw some smut your way)

Stay safe, wear masks, and avoid crowds, will ya?

Much love.

---

Karen, Frank come to the conclusion, is a feast.

He learned that pretty soon. Suspected it, days after he met her. He was surprised to find himself thinking about her sometimes during his brief stunt in prison.

She was always plural, since the beginning. Her voice could be sweet, and she could smile at things he said about his children, all blonde hair and blue eyes, the figure of softness, a poster girl for fragility. And then, one second later, those same blue eyes would shoot daggers, her manicured fingers would pull the trigger with conviction, righteous aim, she would break into the house of a convicted murderer who had fired multiple shots in her direction.

Karen was stronger than him, he admitted it, she was stronger than all the men he had met, you have to be the toughest motherfucker in the world to go through what she did and not turn into him, into a bitter shallow of a human being. She didn’t need anyone to do what she had done for him, she didn’t need anyone to rescue her, Karen picked herself up off the floor, from rock bottom, and rose higher than them all.

And rescue him she did. Like he had done with Lady, Karen picked him off the street, bruised and traumatized, she rescued him and fought, fought for him, fought him, fought the world to bring him back, to make him whole again, to keep him.

And there he was. After all that shit, after losing his babies, after losing the only woman he had ever come close to loving, after knowing, deep in his bones, that he was nothing but a dead man walking, that there was nothing left for him in the world if not rid it of the people that took his heart right out of his chest and shot it dead in a park. There he was, potty training a baby pitbull, house training a former fight dog, organizing the spice rack in a tiny kitchen in the middle of New York City, swinging in a hammock in a fire escape, swapping Harry Potter stories with the neighbors’ kid, sorting laundry, pulling blonde hair strands from his shirts, watching as Karen did her nails on the coffee table (green nail polish, because he had mentioned it was Frankie’s favorite color, and she remembered that is was supposed to be his birthday, asked if he minded.

“He would find it funny”, he said, after shaking his head. “Lisa painted his nails once, made a mess of Maria’s things, it was a whole situation”).

And it was all because of her. Because of Karen, who saved his life in so many ways, so many times, who gave herself to him so fully, so openly, so honestly, who sometimes would fall asleep on the couch, hugging a pillow to her, her shirt riding high on her waist, leaving her bottom exposed to him, covered in flimsy underwear, her hair spread around her head, tumbling over, tips almost touching the floor, socks on her feet.

And oh, Lord, he loved her. Loved her like he didn’t think he would be able to love anymore.

Different than the love he felt for Maria. That had been new, his first time ever loving someone so fiercely, their future a promise he never questioned, it was pure, dare he say innocent. Maria showed him everything that was beautiful in the world, she gave him his children, she taught him how to love.

Karen found him in the dark, she found him broken, torn apart beyond repair, but still she picked up the pieces, helped put him back together, held his hand through the pain, she bled and cried for him, with him, the love he felt for her was no less worthy, it saved his life.

And he would protect it. With his life if he had to, enough of running.

“Enough, now”, he said against her hair, and she stirred, turning around in her afternoon nap, cracking an eye open to look at him.

“What?”

“D’you wanna go to bed?” he said instead of voicing his musing.

“Hmm. No”, she sighed, turning to face him, eyes remaining closed. “I want to stay here”, she decided, settling more comfortably, already falling back asleep.

Frank sat on the floor in front of the couch, lifted his hand and moved some of her hair off her face.

“Me too.”

.:.

She sat on the couch with Lady one afternoon, a blanket around both of them, and watched some romantic movie on TV.

“This is in London”, she told Lady, who looked up at her with interest. “It’s very far away, across the ocean. Remember when I showed you the ocean?”

By the time the movie was ending, she was lying on the couch again, on her stomach, her shirt again riding up, leaving her bottom exposed, a feast for his eyes.

Hugh Grant was making a speech in front of a crowd, and Julia Roberts was sitting there listening, Karen was watching, and didn’t see when Frank walked behind the couch, bent and bit down on the flesh of her ass.

“Ouch!” She complained, turning around, looking at him while he placed a kiss on the same spot, to soothe the sting. “Frank!”

“Sorry”, he said, moving towards her face, placing a kiss on her lips this time. “You were kinda asking for it.”

“Oh, sure”, she said, a slight smirk, moving back towards her movie. “Blame the victim.”

She lied back down, and Frank moved his hand to turn her face to his, for another kiss. She blinked at him when he let go of her.

“You’re beautiful”, was his explanation.

She smiled, and turned to lie on her back, to better look at him.

“I’m also just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to bring her some Oreos”, and a look of utter innocence and manipulation.

Chuckling, he squeezed her ankle and moved towards the kitchen, to get said Oreos.

He would give her the world, if she asked him.

#kastle #kastle fluff #kastle fic #frank castle #karen page #the punisher #daredevil #quarantine drabble

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pastel9girlbunny000die · 3 years

Text

{I was reading this other fic & I really like the idea of the reader getting pushed down to thinking their not good enough for the anime character then they run off later on get encourage words from their friends, I really loved it so I tried it with one of my long time OC character}

***

Zoro x OC (Zay)

Humans were disgusting in every way possible. It was a normal thought for Zay a demon and literally only himself.

Of course, there were some humans who could regain his mind to morals and right ways, but then again…

Luffy a silly childish Captain, and a overpowered rubber man the strongest on the crew, the childlike boy was able to make him join the straw hats

Most of the crew where normal well maybe, not counting the devil fruit users

Zay a demon.

Franky is half cyborg not normal, Sanji is basically human?

Nami I don't know that woman can rob you faster than you could say "Fuck!"

Usopp... I don't think a long nose like that can be counted as normal

And then there was Zoro. He is 100% pretty much human...

Well maybe?

In other words, this man was unbelievably attractive. With his sexy body and the way he train none stop letting sweat drop from his well built chest and abs, it made Zay's heart beat out of his chest getting all Sanji-like.

Well maybe only in Zay's eyes.

Zay has the most attractive boyfriend in exsistins. But sometimes, not so much could be said the same for Zoro's personality.

When Zay asked Zoro to be with him, it came as a surprise, he didn't have any talent he has a shitty personality and well his looks... well?

Zay is a tall man about same as Sanji's height, His whole body is covered in bandages which are used to hide his burned skin. With his short black hair and his sharp yellow eyes.

In the end Zoro said yes.

It was a normal hot summer day, on a summer island the straw hat crew decided to dock at, the whole island just being a tavern where by passers can stop to restock booze or sit back and relax with thier own BBQ near the tavern.

The hot sun high in the sky the tavern was stopped out on a small hill near the ocean waters as there where many customers pirates civilians and some marines.

The island welcomed any costumers along as thier a paying costumer.

Many at the bar drinking till thier hearts satisfied, some cooking up thier own little feast. One rare sight that there where many people laughing and chatting along with each other,

The Tavern owner let the bar out side multiple tables and seats set out for all the customers, the bartender refilling drinks giving them too waitress who's handing out drinks to the others that where outside the tavern.

The Straw hat crew decided to grab thier own little table near the shoreline setting up lawn chairs under an umbrella, Nami and Robin relaxed drinking and chatting with each other.

Luffy, Usopp and Chopper ran off to explore the small island running around like silly children.

Franky and Brook was all up in thier own conversation at the table.

Sanji at thier little table with a grill, cooking up some delicious mouthwatering BBQ, dress in a apron without a shirt and some short pants.

He was sipping his wine glass eyeing all the girls who were walking pass the table in their bikinis while doing his work.

Zay and Zoro laid a blanket under the shade of a tree nearby drinking from thier mugs enjoying the taste of booze on thier tongues, sitting next to each other, Zoro in his swimming shorts, exposing his bare chest with a large scare bare into flesh it kinda gave into his attractiveness.

Zay was just looking at Zoro from time to time when he gaze away Zoro would also be taking a few glimpses next to him at Zay who was dress only in his swimming shorts his whole body covered in bandages not a peek of skin showing

The scent of his delusions cooking traveled through the air making Zay a little hungry.

The Straws, being the some famous pirates, drew some attention from the people there.

Zoro facked a loud yawn slowly placing an arm around Zay's waist, the faking made him chuckle, he and Zoro bordly took another sips of thier drinks. Just enjoying thier drinks and each others company

That’s when the whispers began to float from a table near them, all girls.

Being Zay also known as the thriller of death, and from the demon race Zay gained a big reputation before joining the straw hat crew, by terrorizing towns and being Heartless.

His sensible hearing was able to immediately pick up the whispering

“Is that Roronoa Zoro?”

“The pirate hunter?”

“Is that Zay? I tought that weirdo died in a crossfire back ages ago?”

“Why would the fuck would a demon like him be with Zoro?”

“You think his dating that Mummy?”

“He’s a beast and just eww. Of course his going to leash on the nearest person he could find.”

“In reality all the rumours about an Psychopath and bloodlust killing machine, all lies bet he only hide and pretend to play it big?”

Zay quietly placed his drink down, taking a glance at Zoro.

The look in his eye showed that he wasn't happy mostly pissed but he kept his cool, so there was no doubt that he heard them too.

His eye narrowed at thier table as more whispers about the Zay left thier mouths. The black haired Male let out a small breath, more of a sigh trying to calm himself down. They were just a bunch of jealous whores, Zoro wouldn’t think any less of me… would he?

A memory flashed past Zay as he moved away from Zoro taking off his hand from his. Kuina. Of course, Zay remember the name, Zoro childhood friend.

Not long after they fell in love..

Zoro trusted Zay very much he even opened up to him about his past, until a girl Zay doesn't know of came up the way Zoro spoke about her made him unsure about Zoro's feelings toward himself.

Zay would have understood if Zoro loved her. After all, not only was she described as pretty, but she kind and nice at the same time. Zay, on the other hand was the exact opposite rude and careless, would probably lose half himself in bloodlust nearly 10 seconds of a battle killing who ever gets in his way.

“Babe?” Zoro's voice brought Zay out of his thought. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Whatever.” Zat growled before standing up walking off not hearing Zoro's questions. Leaving the swordsman.

Zay passed Robin and Nami both girls saw the look on Zay's face, he walked off to the Sunny it was a short walk as he went to the boys room slamming the door shut falling onto his and Zoro shared hammock.

The black haired Male felt his heart sink. Heavy breaths began to escape his mouth. Not only were he on the edge of riping off those girls heads and furious thinking so, but he couldn’t stand them.

Zay thought that maybe with Zoro there he would just drink the night away and stay at the swordsman hip being lovavble. He definitely helped, but the whispers that filled his ears were the last things he wanted to hear.

“Zay? Is everything okay?” Nami's voice traveled through the door as she knocking, Zay forced himself to look at the closer door, not a second later he flopped his face into Zoro's pillow with his hungry bloodlust grin.

“What? what do you want Nami?” Zay huffed an even more annoying thing to deal with.

“Is this about those annoying girls?” Robin questioned. “You don’t deserve that, Zay. No one does!”

“But their right,” Zay mumbled. “I’m rude, heartless, probably dengerous… Zoro deserves someone better, someone nice, cute, and more human girly someone who could be of actual love.”

“You’re actually very helpful, if it not for you Zoro would probably be training or sleeping himself to death.” Nami exclaimed, determined to prove Zay wrong. “You might not know the whole story. Zoro has never been happier ever since he met you! You take care of him, love him and you’re always there for him!”

“Zay you probably haven't heard what he says about you?” Robin asked, a gentle smile “He’s always telling everyone, Zay is mine and no one dares to take him from me I'll cut anyone down. Zay he loves you so don't push him away”

“Sush it you idoits-”

“They're only jealous, your the most basass bitch there is.” Nami and Robin said together and the two of them burst into giggles and Zay let out a loud hateful laugh.

He wanted to beat them up so badly, words ain't gonna cut it.

Zay let out a small sigh thankful for such good words. “Yeah. You useless girls are right for once.” and with that the blacked haired man slamded open the door waking pass them, Nothing left to say to the two.

***

Zoro found Zay in about an hour or so, after Zay left the boys room. He was a little worried but. He knew he should have told those girls off, after all, they were the reason Zay got angry.

“Hey, are you- oof!”

Zay clenched his eyes closed as he pressed his lips to Zoro's. His hands found Zay's waist as he pulled him closer to himself.

Feeling their tongues dancing with each other's the taste in thier mouths mixing and the biggest was the booze. The heat rising Zays fingers ran through the green hair of the swordsman, Zoro tightly wrapped his arms around Zays hips pulling him closed leaving no space between them they're skin would've been pressing together if it wasn't for Zay's bandages in the way.

Zay slowly pulled away not really wanting too, his cheeks a little blush and his eyes not leaving Zoro's.

“Well damn, ... your so fucking sexy”

Zay let out a low moan and buried his face in Zoro's neck. As the swordsman let out a low chuckle, kissing Zay's cheek softly.

“I love you.”

“You better cause you belong to me... and I love you too.”

***

(Almost to what Zay looks like {and Yes I know who this is}🖤❤🖤)

#roronoa zoro #Zoro x oc #one piece #anime #fanfic #oc character

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