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goingsunnythousandmerry · 10 hours

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Reunion Post-Time Skip- Will the Romance Re-Dawn?

Monster Trio (Sanji, Zoro, Luffy) + Bonus- Law x Reader

Author's Note: So I've been listening to “Guilt as Sin?” by T. Swift on repeat and came up with this idea, based around this one lyric:

“What if he’s written “mine” on my upper thigh only in my mind?

The oneshots are not actually what’s in the song, but just an idea from. Let me know your thoughts, suggestions, or other One Piece oneshot ideas I can help bring to life. Comment down below! Thanks!

P.S. Let me know if you want me to actually write out oneshots for the pre-time skip moments instead of just summaries or if we want some NSFW from this scenarios.

Features: Monster Trio- Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, and bonus- Law

Summary:

You, a member of the Strawhat crew, had a romantic moment with one of your crewmates while at Sabaody. This was prior to Luffy punching a celestial dragon, the navy invading, Kuma blasting everybody to all parts of the globe, and the two year training time skip. Now, two years later, you’ve reunited with the Strawhats to continue your journey into the New World.

You’ve spent two years replaying the romantic moment you had with your crewmate. None of the other crew members know about it. You’ve daydreamed about what could have been and what could be when you reunite with them. However, you can’t help but think, two years is a long time, and maybe it was nothing, or maybe their feelings have changed. Maybe they will pretend nothing happened when you see them again.

Bonus with Law: You and Law had a moment on the polar tang before he left for Punk Hazard and sent you and the rest of the Heart Pirates to Zou. You have just learned Law has made it to Zou after the events of Dressrosa. You wonder if your captain will pretend nothing happened before he left, or if you will get to resume where you left off.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Hints at NSFW, Hints at sexual interactions in past or in future, Accidental ass/panty flash, lap sitting, nosebleeds, pet names

FLUFF, SFW

General Moment Monster Trio:

You and the crew have just left Thriller Bark and are on your way to Fishman Island. Along the way you meet Cami, a mermaid and are reunited with a former enemy Hatchan. After saving these two and being fed by them to fortify your friendship, they instruct you to head to Sabaody Archipelago. Once there, you set out to find Rayleigh, a friend of Hatchan, who will hopefully coat your ship, allowing you passage to Fishman Island and, thus, the New World. Prior to the major events of this arc, you share a kiss or more with one of your favorite members of the monster trio.

Sanji:

Pre-time Skip Moment Summary:

You were helping Sanji prepare a meal in the kitchen. The rest of the crew were repairing the ship or searching for Rayleigh. While reaching for something that was too high on a shelf for you to grab, Sanji grabbed your waist and assisted you in retrieving it. The intimacy of the close proximity led to the two of you kissing. Unfortunately, you were interrupted by a transponder snail call. The call was from Chopper, Brook and Luffy informing you that Cami was kidnapped.

Post-time Skip Reunion:

Sanji arrived at the Sunny to drop off his gear before setting off to the market. Already on board the ship were you, Usop, Franky, and Chopper. You chose to wear a light blue sundress that was low cut in the front and hit just below your ass. The dress cinched just above your waist and accentuated your breasts. This outfit was ideal for showing off how your curves had grown and changed in the two years you had spent away from the crew. It also showed off how strong you had gotten. Sanji had been yelling back and forth discussing something with Franky as he began to walk aboard the ship. Not noticing the voice, but coming to assist Franky, you had exited the kitchen and dropped something you were carrying. As you leaned down to pick it up Sanji stepped aboard the Sunny. Thinking no one was there as you were distracted by the joy of being reunited with your crewmates, you bent down sloppily allowing your dress to rise up. Sanji’s eyes widened as he was awarded the visual of more of your ass than he ever had before and your pink underwear. Sanji’s eyes turned to hearts, his tongue fell out of his mouth, and blood shot out of his nose like a geyser.

“Y/N-Swan!!!” You heard Sanji call as you shot your head around to look at him.

You quickly grabbed the item you had dropped and stood up, readjusting the bottom of your dress as you did. Your face grew a faint pink hue at your cheeks as you stared at the curly eyebrowed man. He took in the full sight of you, cleavage and all, and the blood from his nose jetted out faster, causing him to faint. You and Chopper rushed to his side and tried to rouse him. Franky and Usop stood behind you and looked down at the fainted Sanji, attempting to cover their mouths to hide their laughter. Sanji’s eyes opened gently and looked up at him.

“I just saw a goddess… I can die happy… Y/N-Swan… is that you..? He asked as he tilted his head to look in your direction. “The goddess! Y/N-Swan it’s you!” He muttered as blood shot harder from his nose and his eyes closed again.

“Sanji!” You yelled.

“Sanji! You have to get yourself together! If you keep bleeding like this you’re going to be in big trouble fast!” Chopper begged.

Sanji took a deep breath and blinked his eyes open again. He slowly cocked his head to look at his crewmates individually. He first looked at Chopper, then Franky, Usop, then back at you. You smiled at him causing his breath to catch in his throat. He gritted his teeth and his eyes grew wide as he looked at you. The color slowly faded from his skin and a small drop of blood dribbled from his nose.

“Sanji!” Chopper yelled. “You have to keep it together!”

Sanji finally regained his ability to breathe and took a deep breath. As he did, he raised a hand to caress your cheek.

“Y/N-Swan… my beautiful Y/N-swan… I didn’t think you could get more beautiful, but here you are. I’m sorry for my behavior…” He began to speak as his hand fell from your cheek.

Sanji looked up at the sky above him, then turned and glanced back at you. You grabbed his hand in yours.

“Are you okay, Sanji?” You asked, eyes glistening with worry.

Sanji closed his eyes and returned his gaze to the sky above him.

“I was in Hell for 2 years… All… All that got me through was the thought of you… the thought of you and our kiss. You’re what got me back here today, Y/N, you’re what got me out of hell.” Sanji said, as he moved to sit up on his elbows and look deeper into your eyes.

Your eyes watered as you stared into his gray-blue orbs and pale face. Chopper wiped away the blood from his face as the two of you continued to look at one another.

“Hold on, wait a minute, did you say "kiss”?” Franky interrupted.

“Sanji… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that day. I… was worried you’d want to pretend like it never happened..” You said as you broke eye contact with him.

“So you two kissed? When!? Where were we?” Usop urged.

“Never, Y/N.” Sanji replied, lifting your chin and pulling you into a soft kiss.

“AHHH! What is happening?!” Chopper eyes popped out of his head as he screamed.

Sanji pulled you into his chest and the two of you continued to kiss. Chopper slowly backed up into Franky and Usop’s legs. Chopper and Usop sighed and shook their heads.

“It’s okay little buddy. It’s a super thing, guess these two have been lovebirds the whole time and we didn’t know. Come on. Let’s leave them to it.” Franky said as he picked up Chopper and walked away from you and Sanji kissing.

Usop shrugged his shoulders and followed behind Franky. Once they left, you pulled away from Sanji and whispered in his ear.

“I’ve been thinking about a lot more than just kissing over the past two years… Nami is in town and Robin isn’t back yet… should we take this to my room?”

“Shopping can wait!” Sanji said shakily as blood shot out of his nose again.

You stood up and pulled him to his feet. Once on his feet, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind you to your bedroom. His eyes were full of hearts as you dragged him away.

Zoro

Pre-time Skip Moment:

You and the crew were on your way to Sabaody Archipelago after Thriller Bark. At Thriller Bark Zoro got badly injured, due to a run in with Kuma. Chopper had asked if you would help keep an eye on Zoro because he loved to take off his dressings to train. One afternoon on your way to Sabaody Chopper and you hadn’t seen Zoro in awhile and well, that made you both nervous. You went on a hunt for the swordsman and you found him training away in the crows nest. The two of you got into a heated argument and well… one thing led to another and the two of you fucked.

Post-time Skip:

Zoro was the first to arrive at Shakky’s bar. He waited for hours for anyone else to arrive, but eventually, he grew bored of waiting, so he decided to head to the Sunny. As he opened the door, you were reaching for the doorknob to the establishment. You looked up and smiled at him as the door opened. You were wearing a dark green spaghetti strap dress. The dress was cut to highlight your curves and muscles that had grown and changed over the past two years. Zoro gasped as he saw you.

“Hey Zoro! Been awhile, good to see you!” You said as you stepped back to let the swordsman outside of the bar.

“Y/N.” He said plainly, barely making eye contact with you.

As he began to step out of the doorway, you lept at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. His body tensed as yours hit his, his eyes widened, and his teeth clenched. He inhaled deeply taking in your scent, as he exhaled, he wrapped his arms around your waist. A few moments go by as you both rest in one another's arms.

“I missed you.” You mutter. “I missed everyone. Is anyone else here yet?” You added as you pulled away from him and dropped your hands to rest upon his muscular chest.

You lift your head to gaze into his dark eye and gaze upon the scar closing his other. He loosened his grip on your waist and looked down at you, his teeth clenched harder at the intimacy of the moment.

“Damn forward as ever woman.” He said with a smirk as he directed his gaze to your arms on his chest, causing you to chuckle.

“How have you been Zoro? What did you do for these last two years?! What happened to your eye? Where are you going?” You ask as you reach a hand up to touch his cheek.

“Wow. Slow down, woman. It’s just you and me here so far to answer your first question and well, the rest is a long story.” Zoro interjected.

As he spoke you lifted your hand to touch his left cheek, below his eye, where part of his scar rested. As you did so, the door to the restaurant opened and out stepped Rayleigh. Rayleigh’s face formed a large grin when he saw Zoro holding your waist and you reaching for his cheek.

“Well what do we have here..? Rayleigh asked with a laugh.

Zoro jumped back from you and crossed his arms over his chest. His gaze averted to the ground below him, allowing him to not make eye contact with you or Rayleigh. You blushed and turned to Rayleigh with a soft smile.

“Well, you didn’t have to stop on my account… Y/N, you’re looking as lovely as ever. It’s wonderful to see you again.” Rayleigh said.

“Thanks, Rayleigh. It’s nice to see you too! How have you and Shakky been?” You questioned, with a deepening blush.

“We’ve been good. I just came out to make sure Zoro was finding his way to the Sunny. I remembered he had some issues with directions and thought it might be best if I took him myself. You should come with us, Y/N, I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to the past two years.”

“That’d be great!” you say with a nod.

“I would’ve found the way on my own. I got here on my own.” Zoro mumbled to himself.

You, Rayleigh, and Zoro made your way to the Sunny together. Rayleigh shared tales of training Luffy and you talked about what you were up to. Zoro stayed silent for the most part on your journey, but peered at you through stolen side glances along the way. He was not subtle, so you of course caught them. He occasionally smirked at what you and Rayleigh said, but not much in terms of information sharing on his adventures for the past two years.

Back at the Sunny you ran into a few more members of your crew. Franky was inspecting the ship and Nami was stopping by to drop off her things before going to meet Usop. You greeted them both with hugs and began to catch up a bit. Rayleigh took his leave of you all to go make sure other members of your crew weren’t waiting back at the bar. While you caught up with your other crewmates on deck, Zoro had found a place to nap nearby. While you conversed, you occasionally felt a gaze upon your back.

While Nami informed you about new weather phenomena and navigation techniques she had learned, you glanced over at Zoro and briefly made eye contact with him. You shyly grinned in his direction, he shook his head, smirked, then closed his eye again to return to his nap.Nami of course, noticed all of this and rolled her eyes at you.

“Y/N?” Nami angrily urged.

“Oh sorry Nami, I was just thinking about a funny part of my journey getting here. How’d you get back?”

“Sure you were.” She replied. “Well I better go meet Usop. You can tell me all about your trip when I get back.” She said with a wink.

You waved goodbye to her and she headed off the ship, toward the island. When you looked back in Zoro’s direction he was gone. You talk with Franky for a few more minutes, then finally excuse yourself to go unpack. You couldn’t wait to get settled and reunite with the rest of the crew. In the midst of unpacking you suddenly felt a presence behind you. You turned around and sure enough Zoro was standing in your doorway. His arms were crossed and his gaze directed at his arms in front of him.

“Hey.” You said as you refold a shirt and set it on your bed.

“Two years is a pretty long time…” Zoro began.

“Yeah, it is… but being back on the Sunny… it feels like we left only yesterday.”

“I couldn’t agree more, and well I seem to remember us doing an interesting workout before we left….”

Your breath caught in your throat. Zoro’s blank expression formed a cocky smirk as he noticed your body tense up. He stood tall from leaning against the doorway and pulled the door shut behind him. He walked toward you as you turned to face him head on.

“Zoro, I…” You start.

Zoro walked past you and sat down on your bed, still not looking at you. He leaned back on his hands.

“Two years, and I haven’t been able to do a workout as well as that one… Think maybe we could try it again?” He said as he glanced at you, with his one eye to see your reaction.

“Two years is a long time to go without a proper workout… Guess we have a lot to make up for.” You said as you moved to stand in front of him, your lips twisted devilishly as you stared down at him.

He reached up with one hand and grabbed you by the waist. You gasped as he pulled you to sit upon his toned lap. His chapped lips pressed against yours. Fingers danced up and down your torso. Your hands wrapped around his neck and started fingering through his hair. He pulled back from your lips a string of saliva between you. You both chuckled as you stared at one another. He was more muscular than he was two years ago and maybe a bit rougher around the edges. You weren’t sure what he had been through these past two years, but in that moment you realized he was still the same Zoro from two years ago.

“Let’s see what two years of training has done for you…” You begin with a smirk.

Luffy

Pre-time skip Moment:

Luffy had ridden the ferris wheel alone with Cami, your fear of heights prevented you from joining them. After his ride with Cami, Luffy insisted on taking you. Luffy asked Chopper, Pappagu, Hatchan, and Brook if it was okay, and if they would look out for Cami while he was gone, they agreed. You rode the ride alone with him only to freak out at the ride's peak height. Luffy had no idea what to do, so he kissed you. He quickly pulled away apologizing to a stunned you. Once you had realized what had happened, you pressed your lips back against his. The two of you shared a passionate makeout session, but were interrupted by the sound of Chopper yelling about a yummy snack as the ride got close to the ground. Luffy rushed to the window to see what the ruckus was and he got too excited about food, to talk with you about what just happened. When the ride docked, he grabbed your hand and pulled you off the ride towards the food. Then while you and your crewmates were distracted by food, Cami got kidnapped and well the rest of the events of the arc occurred.

Post-Time Skip:

Luffy was the last to arrive at the Sunny, and he was being chased by the navy when he arrived. You watched him from the deck as he ran towards the ship. You couldn’t help but grin at seeing your reckless captain getting himself into trouble again. You stared on in awe as he, Zoro, and Sanji approached the ship. Your thoughts were interrupted by Nami yelling for assistance to prepare for departure. You and the rest of the crew quickly sprung into action to help prepare the Sunny for your ocean descent to Fishman Island.

Zoro and Sanji made it to the Sunny and you greeted them both with quick hugs. Luffy made it on board, but before you got the chance to hug him, cannon fire began to target Sunny. You and some of your crewmates started to panic. Zoro and Sanj prepared to begin deflecting the cannon fire. You looked out at the encroaching ships and noticed another one nearby that was not one of the marines. One of your crewmates mentioned it, because it moved into the path between your ship and the marines, causing the marines' cannon fire to stop. That’s when Luffy informed you all he had spent the past two years on or near the Island of Women with the Pirate Empress, Boa Hancock.

Usop and Sanji took turns trying to see the pirate empress with their binoculars and swooning at the idea of being stranded with her. This information and watching your other crewmates melt at the idea of Luffy’s adventure made your heart ache with jealousy. Yes, you’d been apart from Luffy and knew you hadn’t talked about your kiss, but it had meant something to you. Two years hadn’t changed your feelings, frankly seeing Luffy only rekindled them. Maybe though, two years and losing Ace had changed things for him. More gun and cannon fire awoke you from your thoughts and you helped the crew protect the Sunny. Thankfully Luffy’s friend, Boa Hancock, helped you all escape.

As you descend into the depths of the ocean, you and the crew caught up a bit. You learned more about Luffy’s adventures. You wandered towards the Sunny's figurehead. The rest of the crew chatted on the main deck or went to finish unpacking their things for the next leg of the journey. You stared into the abyss that was the ocean in front of you and thought of your dreams, and of Luffy. Your thoughts were shortly interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Y/N.” Luffy said with a large grin.

You felt his stretched arms wrap around you and pull you across the top deck into his embrace. You softly laughed at the familiarity as you turned to look into his eyes, his arms returning to normal at your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace. After a few seconds, you dropped your hands to his chest, gazing upon his new scar before returning your gaze to his onyx orbs.

“Luffy… Luffy I’m so sorry about Ace. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” You sais as your eyes started to glisten with tears.

Luffy pulled you back into his chest. Your smile widened at his action causing you to let out a chuckle, as a few tears dripped down your face.

“You shouldn’t be comforting me! I should be comforting you.” You added, pulling back from the hug again. “I know how important he was to you.”

“Thanks, Y/N. The past two years haven’t been easy.” Luffy said, as he still held onto your waist, but directed his gaze into the ocean. “I’m sorry I selfishly took them. A friend of mine reminded me, I still had a reason to pursue my dream… this crew… So I took two years to get stronger to make sure that could never happen again… because, Y/N… Y/N if I lost you…” Luffy looked down at his hands and he gripped your waist tighter. “My dream couldn’t come true, because my dream isn’t my dream without you by my side.” He said as he looked back up to meet your stare.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You replied as a soft smile grew upon your pink lips.

“Good. Then I’ve been waiting two years to do something.” He said, a devious smile forming across his face.

Luffy pulled your waist against his with one hand and placed the other on your cheek. He gently pulled your lips to his. His lips were warm and soft against yours. Once the initial shock wore off, you kissed him back, settling your arms around his neck to pull him deeper into you. Your lips parted slowly allowing his tongue to slip inside. Your impassioned kiss on the top deck of the ship lasted a few minutes only to be interrupted by Nami.

“Hey lovebirds! There’s something following us!” Nami yelled.

You looked past Luffy’s shoulder and noticed a ship quickly approaching the Sunny. Luffy stretched his neck to look behind him, a big toothy grin forming on his face as he looked out. He laughed.

“I can handle anything the New World throws at us, as long as you and the rest of this crew stay by my side. It’s good to be back.” Luffy said as he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the rear deck.

Law

Moment before Dressrosa:

Law had just announced to you, and the rest of the Heart pirates, that he wanted you to take the Polar Tang to Zou, while he dealt with an important mission elsewhere. He left out a lot of details, but he informed you that the next day you’d be dropping him off at Punk Hazard then continue on to Zou without him. The entire crew gasped at the announcement and grew upset. Law in classic Law fashion, reminded them it was an order and as members of his crew they had to do as he instructed. The crew agreed, but reminded him they weren't happy about it. You, being especially close with your captain, as the only nurse on his crew, went to his quarters that night to demand more of an explanation. However, many of your crewmates, mainly Bepo, had the same idea. You didn’t get a chance to confront Law until the next day. You caught Law in his quarters and he allowed you to come in to talk to him. The two of you got into a heated argument about his plans, which ended with a passionate kiss initiated by him. Unfortunately, your kiss was interrupted by the Bepo knocking on the door to inform Law you’d arrived at Punk Hazard. Law stepped away from you, apologized, and exited the ship. You chased after him yelling, but you were ignored and Law exited the ship. Once on the deck, he used his room ability to teleport himself to the island. You, Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo all cried as you watched Law walk off.

Reunited at Zou:

You had gotten word via News Coo of the events at Dressrosa and were proud of your captain for his actions. He was alive and that was the most important thing. However, it had been months since he had left you and the rest of the Heart Pirates to go off on his own. You were still missing a lot of information on why he left. He didn’t explain why he had to go, where he had to go, or why he had kissed you before he left. Had he only explained that kiss, maybe you wouldn’t have been so mad. When news reached you from the Minks of the arrival of some intruders and to be on guard, you knew it was him. Your heart warmed at the thought of being reunited with your captain. Butterflies danced in your stomach and your thoughts soared into hopes of getting an explanation for that kiss. You finished tying the string around your neck of the tightfitting yellow dress one of the minks had given to you and walked outside at the sound of cheers.

Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin found him first, no surprise. You allowed the rest of the crew to swarm him when he made it to the Guardians layer. You watched from afar as your crewmates hugged Law, his body tensing with every touch. You smiled and giggled as they began asking him a million questions about the Strawhats and Dressrosa.

“That’s enough. Meet me inside and I’ll answer all of your questions. I’ll put my stuff down then meet you in the main room.” He said shortly as he tossed his sword back over his shoulder.

“So glad to have you back, Captain!” Bepo called as he headed into the Guardian’s layer.

“Yeah, Captain. Can’t wait to tell you about what we’ve been up to.” Penguin said.

“Glad you’re okay, Captain.” Shachi added.

You walked inside with Jean Bart, both of you guessing at what could be the next adventure for you and your crew. The crew had planned a surprise celebration for Law’s return once you’d received news about the events at Dressrosa. The early warning of intruders on Zou, that the minks had received that morning provided you and the crew ample time to cook and decorate. You had been the mastermind of course, and you knew Law would pretend to hate it, but he’d actually appreciate it. Besides, it had been so long since you had seen him, you had started to wonder if he would come back at all. Planning this event gave you and your crewmates a glimmer of hope. Before you could go check on the final details, you noticed a blue circle form around you. Suddenly, you were in a hallway standing in front of Law.

“C-C-Captain.” You stuttered, surprised to suddenly be looking in the face of the man who crossed your mind every second of every day for the past year, since you had joined his crew.

“I didn’t see you when I first arrived.” He said flatly as he stared at you blankly.

“Yeah, well, I hung back, I thought I could catch you later. Everyone was so excited to have you back. I….” You replied, rubbing the back of your head as the butterflies in your stomach frenzied.

“You weren’t?”

He glanced down at the space between you and placed his hand in his pocket. You took a step closer to him.

“Law… I” You started, tears beginning to form in your eyes. “I just needed a minute to know that it was real… That you were real.”

He looked up at you, breath catching in his chest as he saw the tears forming in your eyes. You took a deep breath.

“I’m so happy to see you, but I’m pissed at you.” You said as you shoved his shoulder. “How could you leave like that? We saw the alliance in the papers and… I.”

“I said I’d come back.” He replied, his eyes darting to meet yours, then to study the ground before him.

You sighed and turned your head. He looked exhausted. Taking down Doflamingo couldn’t have been easy, you had just wished he had let you be there to help.

“I haven’t been on this crew long, Captain… but Law, I like to think I know you a little bit… and you didn’t mean it.” You voiced with furrowed brows.

You stared at him longingly, heart sinking as the silence grew around you in the empty hallway. You wiped a tear from your cheek and swallowed hard, stepping away from him.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Captain.” You said with a sigh. Now, the crew has planned a celebration for your return, try to be nice”. You replied as you wiped your cheeks and began to walk away from him.

A hand caught your wrist causing you to gasp. The hand whirled you around and moved to your chin, where suddenly, soft chapped lips were against yours. Your chest tightened and heart soared as his other hand moved to rest upon your waist. You blinked your eyes a few times, letting them soften closed as you tilted your head into his kiss. The rise and fall of your chest accelerated as you parted your lips open and began pressing back against his. Your hands wrapped around his neck and pulled him deeper into your embrace. A few minutes passed before the two of you broke apart gasping for air. A string of saliva still connected your lips.

He dropped his hands to your waist and watched the rise and fall of your chest. You stared at his lips, desperately wanting them back against yours, but you knew you had to return to your crew. Law’s teeth clenched and he tightened his grip on your waist.

“I just needed you safe. It was my mission. I was willing to die for it, but I wasn’t willing to take you down with me.” He spoke between pants.

“Captain, don’t I get to decide who and what I live or die for?” You responded as you rested your forehead against Law’s.

“I thought… I told you to call me Law in private.” He said with a smirk.

“Don’t think that…one kiss gets you off the hook. You better behave yourself at this celebration and tell us everything.” You raised your eyebrows at him sternly as you spoke.

“I thought I was the one who gave the orders around here.” He replied as his hands began roaming your waist and torso.

“You’ve been gone a long time and someone had to take charge. Maybe I don’t want to give it up?” You replied with a laugh. “Well behave and after the celebration, I’ll let you order me around back in your quarters. You are the only person I take orders from.”

You deviously smirked at Law and walked down the hallway.

“Y/N, nice dress by the way. Suits you… But I think it will look better on my floor.”

“As you wish, Captain.” You replied, turning around to salute him as you did.

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qveerthe0ry · 3 months

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Lions Ain't the Kind - Part One

Summary: Frankie hasn't dated in years, but now he knows what he's looking for. He's just not so good at asking for what he wants, and you're willing to help him work on it. Word Count: 8,156 Pairing: Frankie Morales x NB/Gender-fluid! AFAB! Reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, subby!Frankie, soft dom! reader, talks about gender non-conformity, sickening fluff, Frankie is way too cute and sweet for his own good, kissing, making out, handjob (m receiving), anal fingering (m receiving), dirty talk, Frankie has a praise kink, no use of y/n, no physical descriptions of reader Beta: @perotovar (my angel ilysm) A/N: Sorry for talking about this for a month straight without posting it lol! The title is from the song (Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear by Elvis Presley which I admittedly haven't listened to but I saw the lyrics and knew immediately it was my Frankie. I hope you enjoy, and I'm always open to criticism and thoughts and thots!

Frankie hasn’t dated in years. He hasn’t really had the time, between his first child being born and navigating co-parenting with his ex, along with healing some very deep trauma and getting and staying clean.

It just hasn’t been on his mind, if he’s honest. He’s been busy finding himself, as Pope calls it. And he’s not wrong. It’s taken a long while for him to be comfortable in his own skin, to come to terms with the things he’s done and the baggage he can now store in an overhead bin, rather than carry it around with him at all times.

But now, he’s ready. He knows himself, and as a result, he knows what he’s looking for.

Someone kind-hearted and down to earth. Someone who’s independent and established, but not just looking for a hookup. Someone with a sweet smile and a desire for enjoying the little things in life.

Someone like you.

He’d swiped right and left dozens of times on men and women alike, but as soon as he saw your profile on whatever dating app he’d downloaded, he was hooked.

You were gorgeous. He felt the heat from your smile through his phone screen, so happy and genuine and sweet.

You were funny, the answers to those weird icebreaker questions full of witty remarks.

You were smart, clearly, from your shoutout to your alma matter and the ‘boring’ job you mentioned in your profile.

He honestly figured he had no chance at all. His face is only getting more wrinkly, and his hair more gray, and he’s never been the sharpest or funniest guy in the room.

So when he swiped left and you matched, he was stunned. He was even more shocked when you messaged him before he could even think of what to say to you.

Hi cutie 🥰

Despite the fact that he was home alone on his couch, he had the sudden urge to look behind him, as if you’d be talking to someone else. The back of his neck got so warm, and your boldness only made him more into you.

So he messaged you back

Hi :) how are you?

I’m surprised we matched, honestly. Pleasantly surprised 😊

Same here :) Why the surprise though? I’m sure you match with everyone

Not at all, it’s hard to find people whose type I am on here. I usually use the queer dating apps but I opened this one out of boredom. What are the chances?

What are the chances, indeed, Frankie thinks, as he gives your profile another look over. Frankie doesn’t understand how you aren’t everyone’s type. He feels a little bit like he’s talking to a celebrity, looking at your pictures and just a snippet of who you are on this reductive dating app.

I like the odds :)

——

As your conversation continues normally over the next few days, Frankie learns a lot about you. He also learns a lot about himself.

It’s been so long since he’s played the field, so to speak, that he’s rusty as all hell and a bit awkward. He’s afraid to flirt too much, every message deleted and re-written at the risk of sounding too cheesy or too forward or too much.

You aren’t afraid to flirt. You send ‘good morning, handsome’ and ‘sweet dreams, pretty boy’ texts every day and night. You tell him your day would be better if you could cuddle someone, you tell him when you’re taking a relaxing bath that you wished he were there to join you.

And to say that Frankie likes it is a massive fucking understatement.

He adores it, he thinks about you constantly, all day long while he works without access to his phone, all evening long while he waits on your replies, all night long, when you’ve bid each other goodnight out of nothing but courtesy for each other’s sleep schedules.

You lead him along like a timid puppy on a leash, showing him new things with patience and care and it drives him insane. He wants to meet up with you so bad, or even just call you on the phone to hear your voice. He thinks about it, late at night, if it’s higher or lower in register, if it’s smooth or raspy. He wants to learn everything about you.

That being said, he’s not sure if he’s ever met someone who’s ‘non-binary/gender-fluid’ before. He doesn’t get out much, he hardly talks to anyone who he hasn’t known for years.

So he googles. It doesn’t really help. He understands what it means, but he doesn’t know what it means to you. He wants to ask you a million questions, but is afraid to bring up even one, and ruin the moment, or sound like an idiot.

You’re so kind though. So he bites the bullet.

Can I ask you a question?

Your response comes almost immediately, now that it’s evening time, both finished with dinner— his takeout vs. your leftover spaghetti.

Of course, pretty boy ❤️

He still flushes deep when you call him that, heat spreading all throughout his face and neck and chest.

How did you know you were non-binary/ gender-fluid?

He frets over the text a bunch before he sends it, making sure he worded it the same way you did in your profile. His heart pounds as he waits for your response.

I’ve always just kind of known I didn’t feel like a man or a woman. I used to think everyone felt somewhere in between, and it was just normal to not feel like I checked either box, but then I realized no one else around me felt the way I did. And then I learned all the terms and whatnot, later on, and knew that’s what I am. Just kinda in between, neither and both, sometimes one and sometimes the other. If that makes sense?

His smile splits his cheeks as he reads your in-depth response, eating up every bit of information you’re willing to give him.

That makes perfect sense to me. Thank you for sharing :)

It doesn’t scare you off?

Frankie scoffs, as if anything about you could scare him off. At this point, you could show up on his doorstep with a dead body in a bag, and he’d throw it in his trunk, dispose of it, and then ask if he could maybe kiss you.

Not at all. Nothing about you scares me :)

——

It’s a few more days before Frankie works up the courage to ask for your phone number. You tell him you were wondering when he was going to finally ask for it. It makes him itchy to think about you waiting for him to ask, making him be the one to do it. In a good way. In a way that kind of makes him stiffen up in his briefs if he thinks about it for too long.

But now, as he settles in from a long day at work, his grin splits his face from ear to ear as he reads your text.

Can I take you out tomorrow night?

He likes it… a lot. He feels so fucking new to all this, like a fumbling newborn calf taking its first steps, and how forward you are eases him so thoroughly.

I’d love that :)

Meet me here at 5 for dinner. Casual dress, but I’m sure you’ll be handsome in anything 😘

It’s the longest 22 hours of his life, and it’s the shortest, all at the same time. Texting you, making funny jokes like his bones aren’t about to creep right out from under his skin with all the nerves buzzing his body. Thinking about you, dreaming about you, one right after the other. When he wakes in the morning it’s like he didn’t get a wink of sleep, his anxiety drumming up a million different scenarios of how it could go right and wrong.

Calling Santi mid-morning on a Saturday when he knows he’s spending time with his family, because if he doesn’t talk to someone about this he may just float off into the ether.

“I’m so fucking nervous, Pope, what do I do? How do I act? Can you just stake out at the bar and feed me lines through an earpiece?”

“Pendejo, fucking— grow a pair man. You’re cute and funny, you’ve got this.”

Reading your texts with pupils shaped like hearts:

I can’t wait to see you tonight, cutie ❤️

and

I finally settled on an outfit

and

Is it weird that I’m not even nervous? I’m just excited to finally meet you

It is weird, Frankie thinks, but doesn’t dare tell you. It’s weird how he can’t even eat the plain toast he made for lunch without feeling bile rise in the back of his throat, and you’re just excited. It’s weird how he’s never, ever felt so gone over someone, and you haven’t even met yet.

It’s not weird, it’s sweet :) I’m excited too <3

It’s not a lie, but he’s omitting the truth a bit. He’s excited but he’s nervous, picking meticulously through his closet to find something casual but not too casual, something he likes the look of himself in, something he thinks you’ll like the look of.

It only gets worse as he stares at google maps. The restaurant is 2.6 miles away, 11 minutes from his house. It’s 4:30, and he wants to leave already, but thinks maybe it’s better to deal with the anxiety in the comfort of his home rather than the parking lot, in case you’re there early too, and you can see how much of a fucking wreck he is.

He watches the minutes tick up in the corner of his phone screen. At 4:36, he gets up, fusses in the mirror one last time, and leaves.

When he parks in the lot in front of the bar & grill, you’ve already texted him.

I’m here a little early, got all green lights. Saved us a table near the back. See you soon!

It’s 4:52.

He takes a deep breath through his nose, closes his eyes as he lets it out gently, counting just like his therapist taught him. And again. And one more time, and finally that anxious tingling in his fingertips is muted a bit and his heart rate is only slightly above normal.

4:54.

He pulls the key from the ignition, gets out of the car, and makes his way to the door.

He finds you instantly.

You’re looking at him, and you’re smiling, and getting up from your chair as he approaches you. He barely even hears you greet him with all his blood rushing in his ears.

“Hi, Frankie,” you say, and your arms stretch out to invite him in for a hug.

He melts into your arms, his strained “hi” muffled in the crook of your neck. You squeeze him tight to you, and he hears you chuckle next to his ear.

“Knew you’d be even cuter in person.”

He huffs out a laugh as you release him, and the tips of his ears burn. But you’re smiling so sweetly at him that it eases his nervous bones.

“You look— can I call you handsome?”

Fuck, he thinks, so fucking awkward.

But your grin gets even wider.

“Only if you mean it.”

“I do,” he sighs, “like straight out of the cologne ads I’d rip out of my older sister’s magazines.”

He holds his breath as you react, the flutter of your eyelashes and the quivering of your lips and your laugh, bubbly and bright and soothing.

And he isn’t lying, not even a little. You’re rugged but soft, romantic and alluring, and he can’t take his eyes off you.

Even as you take your seats across from each other, and the waiter comes to take your drink orders, and as your gorgeous eyes flit across the pages of the menu. He can’t stop looking, watching your mouth curve into a smile as you talk about your week and ask him about his.

It’s pathetic, really, when the waiter asks if you’re ready to order, and you ask if he knows what he wants, because he hasn’t taken a single glance at the menu himself. He just hopes to god the dim lighting of the bar hides his flushed face and tells you to order first while he skims the menu.

He ends up ordering exactly what you got, and floundering when your hand finds his on the tabletop. He watches your fingers trace his own from his nails to his knuckles, and flips his palm up for you to rest your hand in his.

“I’m glad you came out with me tonight,” you tell him.

His eyes flicker up from your joined hands to your smiling face, and his nerves completely melt away from the heat of your gaze.

“Thank you for asking me,” he says.

“Would you have asked me, if I hadn’t asked you?”

He bites the inside of his cheek, and there’s a teasing glint in your eyes.

“Eventually,” he nods, “I mean… probably.”

Your eyebrows turn up in question, and he realizes how that sounds, jumping to backtrack.

“Not like that! I just mean— You know… You’re uh… well, I feel like you’re way out of my league. And so maybe I’m a little… intimidated.”

You smile, then, and sigh, and squeeze his hand as you call him a sweet boy. It makes the room feel like it’s a hundred degrees warmer, like Frankie’s clothes are suddenly two sizes too small.

“You aren’t so good at asking for what you want, are you?”

He laughs then, and shakes his head.

“Not really, no.”

“We’ll have to work on that, then.”

He clears his throat, and tugs at his collar with his free hand, breaking his gaze away from your face as you chuckle. He looks to find a waiter, or maybe an HVAC guy that could crank the AC to sub-zero temps for the remainder of the date.

No luck.

The rest of the date goes well. Surprisingly well. Frankie was worried that he’d be so out of practice that he’d freeze up, or say something stupid, or do something stupid, like knock over a drink or get food stuck in his teeth.

But you’re just so easy to talk to, to click with. Of course, you’re the one who facilitates the conversation, asking him about his favorites— movies, TV shows, music, time of year.

But he likes to think that he keeps the ball rolling well enough, is aware enough to remember to ask for some of your favorites— holiday, food, cocktails.

By the time the check comes, he hardly realizes you’ve both had empty plates in front of you for a while, talking and laughing through your meals like you’re just catching up with an old friend.

He protests when you grab the check, because of course he does. You’ve given him this incredible night, your comfortable company, your sweet smiles, and he feels like his offerings pale in comparison.

“I asked you out, Francisco,” you tease him, having just learned his full name a mere 20 minutes ago.

And he can’t really protest anymore, what with the shiver that’s tingling his spine and the goosebumps he tries to hide by gripping the chair underneath him. So he lets you pay, and thanks the waiter, and feels a rush of sadness when they come back with the check to sign. He really doesn’t want this evening to end.

The apprehension falls second to the sensation of your hand on the small of his back, leading him out to the parking lot.

“Where’s your car? I’ll walk you there,” you say, your thumb pressing a soothing circle into the base of his spine.

So he walks to his truck, a little self-conscious about the out-of-dateness of it, and how he didn’t think to run it through a car wash before this. But mostly he’s just nervous about ending this date on a good note.

“This is me,” he says, barely above a whisper, stopping at his driver’s side door.

You smile at him when he turns to you.

“Thanks again for coming out with me. I really did have a great time.”

This makes him smile through the unease, even as your hand drops from the small of his back.

“I did too. Would you uh… wanna hang out again soon?”

Your face lights up, and Frankie wants to capture it in a bottle and take it home with him. Keep it at his bedside to use as a nightlight.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

He chuckles and looks down to his feet like maybe it’ll redirect the flush in his face. You grab his hand, hanging by his side, and luckily you don’t make him speak again because he doesn’t know if he’s even able.

“I’d love to. Really.”

He smiles when he looks back up at you, only briefly, because you drop his hand and take a half step back.

“Call me about it.”

“Wait!”

Your brow arches at him, because you weren’t really going anywhere, but Frankie’s mind is running a thousand miles a second. He thinks back to all the times you’ve goaded him into asking for what he wants, so far, and how it hasn’t bit him in the rear yet.

“Can we— I… Can I kiss you goodnight?”

Your smile softens, and you take that little half-step back closer to him, and he feels all the tension leak from his shoulders.

“Yes, you can. Thank you for asking.”

He huffs, and smiles at you, and you’re reaching out to cup his jaw and grab his hip, and Frankie closes his eyes far too early, but it’s okay, because he feels your body heat and then your lips.

He can’t hold back the hum that rumbles from deep in his chest, or the way that he goes a little boneless in your grasp. He finds your forearm and squeezes it, and your bicep too, anything to ground himself as your lips part and your tongue teases the seam of his lips.

But then you’re pulling back, and it’s over far too quickly, and Frankie is also acutely aware of how tight his jeans feel. His face feels like it could melt right off of his skull.

“Call me soon, Pretty Boy.”

He nods, speechless, and watches you disappear between the cars of the parking lot. On his way home, he’s already fretting over whether or not he should text you tonight, and what kind of date he should plan, and if his breath was okay when you let him kiss you.

——

Frankie is perfect.

You’re still not sure how you found this diamond in the rough that is Tinder. You thank every god you know the name of that you got bored and opened the app on auto-pilot that night.

First of all, he’s so cute. He’s handsome in such a boyish way, with his dimples and unruly curls and patchy beard.

But he’s also so kind, the way he talks to you like it’s a privilege, the way he asks careful and curious questions about you like he truly wants to know the parts of you that are deeper than what’s on the surface.

Every simple text from him makes you smile, the way he always tries to make you laugh or cheer you up when you’re overwhelmed with the demands of life, as you often are.

And meeting him in person solidified everything you thought about him.

He seems like the textbook definition of a golden retriever boyfriend, if you ever get to call him that much. You hope you do.

In fact, it seems like it’s moving quite quickly in that direction when Frankie asks if you’d be down for a movie night. Some blockbuster he missed in theaters is finally streaming, and he thinks you’ll like it.

You don’t tell him that you didn’t miss it in theaters, or that you thought it was just okay.

You do tell him you’d be down to watch it, only if he came to your place, where the walls are thin and your surrounding neighbors all know you and watch out for you. Just in case he’s really good at acting like a sweet, safe guy.

You find yourself giddy as the weekend approaches, daydreaming at work about how the night will turn out. You tell him to come in comfy clothes, because you’ll be damned if you wear jeans in your own home, even for this sweet man. He doesn’t seem to mind one bit, that’s my favorite kind of outfit :) is his cute response.

You get everything ready the day of; your coziest blankets hang off the arms of your sofa, your fridge is stocked with fresh fruits and your pantry with candy and microwave popcorn and chips (I’ll eat whatever you get :) his answer to your questioning of his favorite movie snacks, of course.)

And then you sit around and wait, excited nerves coaxing your body to straighten things up that have been straightened up a million times already. When Frankie texts you his ETA, you park yourself on the couch by the door and stare at it until there’s a knock on it.

You may count to ten before you get up to open it, just to hide how eager you’ve been to see him again.

Your throat does get a little dry when you answer it to find him in a dark blue t-shirt that hugs his arms and light gray joggers that hug… Other things.

“Hi handsome,” you smile, pushing down all the nerves and the less-than-PG thoughts.

“Hi. I um… I brought these. I noticed you ordered them on our uh– well, at the restaurant, and I didn’t want to show up empty handed.”

You watch a flush break out on his face, and his neck, and wonder how far under his collar it actually spreads.

He’s holding up a six pack of your favorite beers, and he’s smiling so shyly, and you have to crowd in closer to him to press a kiss to his heated cheek.

“That’s so thoughtful, thank you.”

He giggles— giggles, Jesus Christ— and you take them from his hand to let him come through the door.

You set the beers in your fridge to let them chill as he kicks off his shoes. You watch him from the kitchen as he takes in your place with his pretty brown eyes.

“It’s really cozy in here,” he tells you as he fiddles with his own hands.

“Snuggle up, get comfy, I’ll bring us some snacks.”

He nods, so obedient, and hovers by the couch before settling on the seat in the middle.

Sly move, you think, and you can’t hide your stupid grin as you gather some snacks.

When you turn off all but one lamp and deposit the junk food on the coffee table, you notice he’s inched himself closer to the arm of the couch, like he was second-guessing himself. That just won’t do, you think, as you settle in right next to him, so close that the length of your body is pressed against his.

He doesn’t look at you, just stares at the Roku City scrolling across your flat screen. For a second you think he might be uncomfortable, but the way his breathing is uneven clues you in on his nerves.

You reach over him to grab the blanket in the arm of the couch, and you feel his muscles tense up when you press against him.

“Frankie?”

“Huh? Sorry, yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head and sighs, heavy and long, before looking at you.

“I’m so nervous.”

He smiles in spite of it, lopsided, dimples so cute that your lips quiver with the urge to kiss them.

You smile back, and drape the blanket over both of you, patting his leg through it.

“Nothing to be nervous about, Francisco.”

It gets a laugh out of him, a huff through his nose, and his shoulders lower the tiniest bit. You slowly reach up to cradle his jaw in your palm, careful not to spook this little baby deer of a man, but his face leans into your touch.

“If it helps, I think it’s really sweet that you’re nervous.”

“Thank you… I think?”

You laugh at him, and watch as your reaction makes his eyes brighten. You want to kiss him. You want to smooch the absolute daylights out of him, but there’s still 3 hours of a pretentious movie to watch, and there will be plenty of time, if he’s amenable.

So you just pinch his cheek before you let go, and try not to look so smug at the heat that consumes his face as you get the movie up and running.

Fifteen or so minutes into the film, Frankie has relaxed into the couch, though he’s stock-still beside you with his arms glued to his own sides. You just want to cuddle, at least. You’ve been thinking about it for weeks— getting his warm, solid but soft body against your own.

You’re certain he won’t be the one to initiate it, but that’s all fine and dandy. You rearrange yourself a bit, and sling an arm over his shoulders. He looks away from the movie towards you, and you give him a smile that must be comforting.

He sinks lower on the couch, and leans against you, his messy curls pressed against your shoulder while his arm drapes over your lap. You think you hear his satisfied hum under the dialogue of the characters, and you let your head rest against his.

This is nice. Frankie’s so warm against you, the most comforting weight all lax against your side. Your hand creeps up from his shoulder to his head, and his hair is so silky when you finally work up the gall to run your fingers through it.

You can feel the way it affects him when he shivers and presses even closer into you. You watch the movie like that for a while, snacks untouched, fingertips stroking his scalp as his soft curls slip through your digits. Every once in a while his head tilts to look up at you, piercing brown, and each time you smile back down and ruffle his hair.

It’s just after the first big conflict of the film when you feel Frankie shift against you. His arm moves in your lap, and you watch his thick fingers grab your thigh over the blanket.

It shocks you how such a simple gesture makes your temperature rise. You hum and let your nails scratch more firmly against his head. You can hear him gasp, and feel him move impossibly closer, like he’s trying to fuse the two of you together. You glance down at him, past the curls you’ve lost yourself in, and his eyes are closed. Further, the curve of his nose and pout of his lips, his chest that’s heaving with his excited breaths, you notice a suspicious tent in the blanket, and you don’t want to assume, but the context clues are all there.

Frankie is hard.

You can’t blame him. You’ve been aroused since you pressed his body against yours, a slow simmering underneath the surface that’s made you feel so comfortably warm and relaxed.

You shift, and you swear you hear a barely-there whine leave his lips. You move just enough so you can press your free hand to his chest. Under your palm, you can feel his heart beating, a pace that’s concerningly higher than appropriate for sitting and watching dialogue in a movie.

His head turns toward you, his hair slipping through the grasp of your knuckles. He looks up at you with those puppy eyes and his pupils are so dilated that it makes you take a deep breath. He turns his body toward you next and there it is the hard line of his cock pressed against the outside of your thigh. You see him shudder at the friction, watch his eyes grow droopy as they flicker down to glance at your lips.

“Can I kiss you again?”

And he asks so sweetly, voice a little hoarse from the silence, that you couldn’t dream of denying him.

“Yes, Frankie.”

His lips tremble until they meet yours, so soft and chaste, a stark contrast to his scruffy beard and mustache. His breath hitches; you can hear it and feel it. His chest shudders under your palm and pushes air out to gust against your cheeks. You feel his prick, too, twitching against your thigh as your tongue peeks out to tease his pouty bottom lip.

He pulls back so much quicker than you want him to, but it’s also such a reward to look at him this close. His lips shiny, his cheeks flushed, his irises completely usurped by his pupils. His mouth hangs open and you can’t help yourself as you slide your hand from his chest to his jaw and pull him into you once again.

A surprised little noise works its way out of his throat, and his hips jerk forward, and then he’s groaning as his cock throbs against the outside of your thigh. The noise makes that feeling in your gut draw deeper, lower, and you make one of your own in response.

His hand rests dutifully still on your thigh, but you can feel his fingers twitching as your taste buds rub against his– a friction that has no right to be as delicious as it is. You want him to feel you up, to touch you all over, to give in to the desire that’s blatantly pressed against you. You want to hear these noises he seems to be holding back, the whimpers that just barely make it past his vocal chords before he cuts them off.

You pull away this time. Pride swells in your chest as you look at what you’ve already done to him. His curls are even messier now that you’ve run your fingers through them over and over. His eyes are all glassy when he looks at you, pouty lips slick and red.

He sits so still, aside from his heaving breaths, like he’s waiting for your command.

“Tell me what you want, Frankie.”

His eyes widen and christ, if they get any wider they’re going to suck you in like a supermassive black hole.

“I– I’m okay, I like this.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. He nods, trying to convince you, as he not-so-subtly pulls his erection free from its trap between his body and your thigh. His eyes cast downward, but you swiftly grab his chin in your hands to bring them back to you.

“Francisco,” you mumble, “ask for what you want.”

He gasps and bites his plush bottom lip, hard enough that there’s little indents when he opens his mouth. He shuts it again, and squirms against you, and finally opens it once more.

“I want you to touch me.”

His request comes out hardly above a whisper, all broken and breathy, and his gaze settles somewhere behind you.

“Is that all?”

He nods quickly, eyes snapping back to you.

“I swear– I just wanna feel your hands on me.”

Your smile widens as his face gets so serious, eyebrows knitting together.

“That’s good, that’s really good,” you mumble.

The shudder that visibly rolls through him is like a shockwave, sending every one of your nerve endings on-edge. You huff, an amazed little breath at this fucking guy in front of you, so responsive and timid and utterly fuckable.

“You like that? Like being good for me?”

He nods again, more apprehensive this time, but he can’t hold back his whine when his hips press against you. The possibilities of all the things you could do to this man stretch far and wide; it’s entirely overwhelming.

“Sweet boy,” you whisper, because he is, “c’mere.”

You pull the blanket off of you both, and Frankie reaches down to adjust himself so it isn’t so obvious, like you haven’t felt his cock twitching against you this entire time. It’s so endearing you think you could cry, but you’re much too turned on for sentiment at the moment. Instead, you guide him to straddle you, hands on his slender hips until his thighs cage your own.

For a moment you just watch as he sits patiently, obediently, waiting for your next words like his cock isn’t leaking a pretty little damp patch into his sweatpants. His chest heaves with every breath, and his tongue licks and bites at his swollen lips, and his eyes stay trained on your mouth in anticipation.

“So pretty,” you whisper.

His long eyelashes flutter at your compliment, and he turns his head to try and hide his reaction, but it doesn’t mask the way his prick twitches under gray fabric. Your hands find his waistband and tease the edge and you delight in the way he shivers.

You need to feel more, so you press your hands under his shirt and hum at what you find. A soft tummy and smooth skin that makes way for a small trail of wiry hairs. It’s all revealed to you a moment later when you hike his shirt higher, reach for pecs that are more solid than you imagined, and the smallest nipples you think you’ve ever had your hands on.

You look back up to his face for permission with a quirked brow, and he nods eagerly, grabbing the back of his collar to shed the material and bare himself and it’s so lovely. There’s so much tan skin, hardly any of it is obstructed by hair, just the errant freckle here or there. And you can’t help it, you have to lean forward and take one of his nipples into your mouth.

He gasps your name, but one of his hands finds the back of your head to keep you in place. You hum around the little nub, so small you have trouble getting your teeth to bite down on it, but you do and then he groans, his hips jerking in your hold on them.

“Is this how you wanted me to touch you?”

You lean your head back to look him in the eyes, to watch a pained expression flit over his face as he tries to come up with an answer he thinks you’ll like.

“I like this too,” he nods, “but I, um… fuck–”

He cuts himself off to hide his face in his hands. He is so cute and so sexy at the same time, it’s making your brain go haywire.

“Tell me, Frankie. Be good for me, Pretty Boy.”

He shifts on top of you as he looks up at your ceiling. You soothe your hands up and down his flanks and wait patiently for him to find the words.

He drops his hand from his face, fists clenching down by his sides, but he finally looks down at you and smiles, shy and sweet, just a hint of that dimple you adore rearing its head.

“Touch my cock? You got me so hard.”

You smile bright at his request, and nod, and press a kiss to his sternum.

“Anything you want,” you mumble, “just gotta ask. Just like that.”

He looks pretty proud of himself. There’s a twinkle in his eyes as you look up at him, and you take a playful bite of his skin and savor the gasp it coaxes out of him.

“Let’s get these off, yeah?”

Your fingers sneak under his waistband and his skin is so hot under there, searing. You only have a few moments to bask in the warmth before he stands up to remove his pants and briefs in one bashful move.

Jesus.

He’s so gorgeous, bare for you, vulnerable, excited. His foreskin is all pulled back, revealing a delicious looking string of pre-cum from his slit. You desperately want to lean forward and taste— but he didn’t ask for that, and you won’t give it to him unless he does.

Stunned a bit silent, you pat your lap, urging him to settle back over it. Much to your delight, he does, quick and obedient. An approving hum bubbles up out of your chest, and he preens as he sits on your thighs.

There’s a very wicked feeling in you as you stare at him, completely naked, while you haven’t shed a single layer of clothing. Control, and trust, and power. It’s overwhelming in a way that makes your lungs feel too inflated for your rib cage, to know you could take advantage of it, and to know you never ever would.

“Good boy,” you whisper, finally, testing those waters.

Frankie’s dick twitches between you two, and you huff and smile and wonder how something so perfect and precious has literally landed right in your lap.

He’s been more than good, and so with one hand you grab his hip to steady him, and the other takes his cock as gentle as ever. A sharp inhale inflates his chest as you stroke the smooth skin, a teasing, feather-light touch that makes his legs tense up in your lap. You watch him disappear and reappear through the loose circle of your hand, watch another clear droplet bead from his slit when you squeeze him tighter.

“Does this feel good?”

He’s watching your hand work when you look back up to his face. He nods, a jerky movement that seems to shake his entire body, and he’s so on-edge. You feel it in the way he shifts his weight on top of you.

“Words, Frankie,” you urge, a soft smile on your face.

“So good.”

You hum, taking in the way his eyes flutter open and closed, the way his adam’s apple pokes out when he leans his head back.

You reward him by speeding up your strokes. You squeeze his hip with your free hand, kneading at the soft flesh there, while you lean forward to press kisses into his virtually hairless chest. His skin is so hot it feels like it could burn you, flushed such a pretty color, just like you knew it would be.

He whines when you gather up more pre cum with your thumb and gently massage it into his frenulum. You look up to find him staring down at you with glassy eyes, bottom lip tucked tight between his teeth.

“Can we kiss more?”

His voice is breathy, and you nod, and a fresh wave of arousal flushed through your system when his lips eagerly meet yours.

It’s sloppier, this time. Noisier, too, as you tighten your grip on his cock and begin to properly work your hand up and down his length. You steal his breath and his noises straight from his lungs, feel every shudder he pushes out when you twist your wrist just right or squeeze tighter.

His hips start to meet your thrusts, rutting into your hand, such a desperate little thing on top of you, all for you. You want to encourage him to take his pleasure from you, and so you slip your hand back from his waist, find the perfectly pert globe of his ass with your palm.

“Haa— shit.”

His words muffle into your kiss as his hips stutter in rhythm and you lean forward to smirk into the bald patch of his beard.

“Yeah?”

A gasp wrecks through his heaving chest as he nods.

“Please, fuck— please.”

You hum into his jaw and squeeze his cock and his ass respectively.

“Please what, Pretty Boy?”

He leans back. You watch him squeeze his eyes shut and shake his head from left to right.

“Tell me what you want, Frankie. Know you can.”

A big gulp of air, and then he opens his eyes to look at you, then blinks them shut again as his head lolls back in his shoulders.

“Touch me there. I— I can’t—”

“Shhh,” you take mercy on him, bringing your hand up from his backside to cradle his jaw in your palm. He tilts his head into your touch and opens his eyes.

“I got you, sweet boy,” you remind him.

He nods in understanding, shifting to kiss the heel of your palm. You let him rest his lips there as he catches his breath, feel them quivering every other upstroke of your hand on his prick.

But as he makes to move, you hold his jaw steady in your hand. His eyes flicker back to your face, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, if he can tell how beside yourself you really are.

Slowly, so he can pull away if he wants, you trace the pad of your middle finger along the seam of his lips. You’re awestruck at how they instantly fall open for you, greedy, something you’re definitely looking forward to exploring more later.

For now, you watch with hooded eyes as he takes it into his mouth, tongue curling and lapping at it. You briefly wonder if fingers are erogenous zones, beyond turned on at how warm and wet the inside of his mouth feels, how he suckles and releases, bobs his head over and over until you snap out of it.

“Good boy. Fucking perfect,” you sigh.

He gets a cocky little goofy grin on his face at the praise, but his prick twitches against your grasp. You squeeze it for good measure, and more of his pre-cum dribbles over your knuckles.

You lean into him again, and he leans into you, holding each other up. Your mouth finds his pebbled nipple once again as his prick drags across your shirt and saturates it. He hisses at the friction, then gasps when your hand grabs his ass cheek again.

You pull it as best as you can with one hand. It isn’t too difficult with how it fits so perfectly round in your palm. You squeeze it, massage it, note how the littlest hint of peach fuzz feels against your clammy hand. You wonder how it would feel under your tongue, too, how it would taste, how the fatty flesh would feel between your teeth.

His hips stutter forward when your finger, slick with his saliva, strokes the very top of his crack. And you don’t mean to tease too much, but his jerky movements and satisfied sounds when you do are like music to your ears.

Finally you find his hole, fluttering around nothing, so little and tight, all for you.

“Ohmygod.”

Frankie sounds pained, so much so that you look up from nuzzling his chest to watch his face. His brows are drawn tight with how his eyes are squeezed shut, and his mouth is hung open, slick with a little drool around the corners of his lips. Without context, maybe he would look pained, too, but the way his cock throbs and dribbles in your hand paints a completely different picture.

And what a pretty picture he is, gulping for air above you, thrusting his hips back into your finger and forward through your fist, like he’s so out of his mind that he can’t even make it up.

You apply more pressure to his impossibly tight pucker and sink your teeth into his skin at the way he whines for you. You do it again, and again, a patient little rhythm until it relaxes and the very tip of your finger slips into his warmth.

He groans, clenching tight around you.

“Okay, Frankie?”

He laughs, a little puff of air, and you feel it where you’re inside him.

“Gonna make me come,” he chokes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, don’t— fuck— please don’t stop.”

You hum into his chest, squeeze your hand tighter around his prick as you speed up your strokes. He’s groaning now, deep and low and constant, like he couldn’t hold it back if he tried.

You wiggle your finger against his rim, tugging him open for you, toying with the elastic muscle. He’s so pliable everywhere, opening up to you, happily taking what you give him.

In a stiff moment you think he isn’t into it, because he freezes up and goes silent. You make to slip out of him, but his warmth just drags you in.

And then his cock jumps in your grasp, and his hole clamps around your finger as he gasps your name, and he’s coming.

He shakes with it as he soaks your shirt and drips over your hand. You stroke him through it and marvel at the way he feels in your grasp and around you, violent waves of pleasure that you can sense where you touch him.

You look up to watch him tremble through it and he’s gorgeous. Sweat drips from his messy curls at his temple and paints a glimmer down his neck, all pulled taught as his head hangs back. His chest tastes salty under your tongue where it heaves, you can’t get enough of the flavor, or the wicked beating of his heart under your lips.

And his noises, fucking delicious, wrung-out curses that just keep tumbling from his red lips. His stomach trembles with his shaky breaths, and he sounds so wrecked as the last bit of his orgasm tricked down the back of your hand.

His whispered chants of “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” slow to a stop just as his joints unlock and his muscles relax. You take it as a sign to loosen your grip on his spent cock and carefully slip your finger back out of him. It earns you one last whimper before he sags into you, a boneless little heap in your lap.

You unhand him to hold him against you, wipe your hand on the discarded blanket beside you so you can stroke his back with one hand and his fuzzy little buttcheek with the other.

You tell him how good he was for you, how pretty he is when he comes, how much you loved getting to do that to him.

It takes a while for him to catch his breath, and his huffs tickle that sensitive spot on your neck just below your ear.

“Holy shit,” he sighs.

You nod, because he’s correct. Holy shit, indeed.

His voice is a little hoarse, and you’re conflicted. You want to hold him as long as he’ll let you, but you know you should get him some water and at least a towel.

You shift under him and he whimpers, wraps his arms tighter around your shoulders.

There goes that idea.

You hold him closer, and smirk at the contented sigh that leaves him.

“I think… I think I just imprinted on you.”

It startles a laugh out of you, and he chuckles too, a tiny happy sound against your collar bone. You turn to kiss his heated cheek, and he lets you, before he turns his own head to fuse his lips to yours.

This kiss is lazy, unhurried, and the adrenaline from making him fall apart is slowly making way for more of that sticky-sweet arousal from earlier.

“I wanna make you come,” he mumbles against your lips.

You shake your head, but kiss him some more, as to not give him the wrong idea.

“Another night, Pretty Boy.”

He makes a disappointed sound, but continues to kiss you until you have to part for air. His brow is turned upward in question when you pull away.

“Did I do something wrong?”

You’re shaking your head before he even finishes his question.

“Not a single thing, Frankie. Just wanted to take care of you tonight.”

His shoulders relax at that, but his face is still confused. It’s a cute look on him, with his pouty lips and big brown eyes.

“You’d tell me right? If I made you uncomfortable? You can tell me. I don’t wanna upset you.”

And christ, you feel your heart melting and oozing through your rib cage at how earnest his voice is.

“I promise, I’ll tell you.”

That seems to quell his nerves, as he sinks back into you again with his sweaty curls pressed against your shoulder.

You’re sticky in more ways than one, and Frankie’s only getting heavier in your lap the sleepier he gets, but a giggle bubbles up out of you when you realize you’ve never been more comfortable than you are right now.

Frankie huffs in response, and you press him even tighter against you.

You don’t know where one-and-a-half dates and one sickeningly hot orgasm places the two of you. And maybe it’s greedy to think about with a handsome, sweet man in your arms, but you can’t push down the overwhelming feeling of wanting more.

next part

#x reader #sub! frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #nb reader #gender-fluid reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe #frankie morales smut #triple frontier fanfiction

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chvoswxtch · 8 months

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hi :) congratulations on 3k! can i ask for midnights (from the vault) with frank based on the lyric

All I ever wanted

All I ever needed

Is here in my arms

from enjoy the silence - depeche mode

thank you very much nonnie!

I love depeche mode. I hope you don't mind that I started with angst (it's just who I am as a person) and then ended it with some fluffiness (not exactly spicy, more like mild sauce) bc frankie is a hopeless romantic sometimes and that's just fact

as a reminder, from the vault means it's spicy! (minors dni)

blurb below the cut

enjoy the silence (frank's version) (from the vault)*

all i ever wanted / all i ever needed is here in my arms

Frank Castle had never truly known peace. He had been fighting internal battles long before he joined the Marines, and in the interludes between tours when he got to go home, he was still haunted and lost in combat in his mind. After losing his family, Frank sought bloodthirsty revenge against everyone involved. Discovering the betrayal of his best friend in the midst of his vengeance, he felt the lashes of treachery against his soul.

Even though his hands were stained with blood and he had personally made sure that everyone who played a part in his family’s murder had paid the price, he couldn’t stop. Frank continued to wage war against the wicked, and the Devil himself couldn’t help anyone who got in his way. But the amount of lives he collected did nothing to bring back those that were ripped away from him.

For years, Frank brutally slaughtered the wicked anywhere he went to try and tame the bloodthirsty thing inside of him. He thought combatting the evil he saw in the world would make him feel better, but it only made him feel more hollow. He was reckless, impulsive, and had no regard for his own life. He didn’t care if he made it out of a dangerous situation. He didn’t think he had anything left to live for, and was surviving purely out of spite.

Until Frank met you.

Out of the endless corruption he had endured, he finally found something good. You were patient and gentle with him, and thoughtfully warm and loving. You saw him in the same light Maria had, and you were the only thing that had felt like home after losing his own years ago. With you, Frank felt like he could breathe again. There was no longer a demon in him demanding a taste of flesh. There were no more blooming bruises and crimson dripping wounds. He came home wearing marks on his body that you had made during an intimate moment of passion. When he woke up in a cold sweat from a nightmare, you were there to hold him and lure him into a peaceful slumber with your nectarous words and the lullaby of your heart’s rhythm.

Piece by delicate piece, you helped put Frank back together. He started to recognize his own reflection again. All the heaviness he had felt over the years slowly started to melt away from his shoulders. Frank started to smile again. He laughed at your silly jokes. He offered to help with dinner, and then would interrupt the cooking to twirl you around the kitchen. He taught you his favorite songs on guitar, and even learned your favorites to surprise you with. Finally, Frank had a reason to live again.And he finally found peace.

Everytime you let him inside your body, Frank felt like he was being granted the greatest gift. He was constantly grabbing at your pliable thighs and rubbing his rough palms along your silken skin, just to remind himself that you were real. He wrapped his hand around your throat, and felt your heart pounding against his fingers; tangible proof that you were here with him. He stared deeply into your eyes, watching the way your face contorted in pleasure when he pushed himself as deep within your warm walls as he could.If making love to you was as close to Heaven as he was ever going to get, he never wanted to stop.

Because you were here in his arms, loving him unconditionally, trusting him with your body, and you were all he needed to be happy.

#court's 3k friends celebration #the eras tour (court's version)#court’s 3k followers celebration #frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #frank castle request #frank castle blurb #frank castle smut #the punisher #the punisher request #the punisher blurb #the punisher smut

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romanarose · 2 months

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Hey, I love your HCs of the Triple Frontier boys <3 I was thinking about what are some of their hobbies/interests and what kind of music they like to listen to. What do you think?

excellant question nonnie!!! I have LOTS of hc's, thanks for asking!!!

Santiago Garcia

We know Santi loves Metallica

And the sountrack to TF has Fleetwood Mac and Bob Dylan

I think Santi just loves music! He flies a lot so he spends time listening to full albums.

He doesn't have a lot of free time

Despite everyones teasing, he's not here to fuck pretty women. He's here to work.

Still, despite onl a few personal items he does have his guitar. Plays it a lot.

It does help with women

When he was a kid he thought he'd become a singer, he loves Vicente Ferdanez and Juan Gabriel

Alas, for a poor immigrant family Santi couldn't abandon them to persu wishy-washy dreams, he needed to work. Hence the military.

Still, it makes him happy when he sit and play guitar, watching people smile.

He learns songs from all his friends and families favorite bands.

William Miller

Will hates modern country.

Growing up in the yee haw south I think he hates what it's become

Was not upset when Tobey Keith died at all, think he ruined the genre in the post-9/11 nationalism

He enjoys thegrassroots rock movement (springsteen, melloncamp, petty) and the blues.

Him and Santiago both love Fleetwood Mac. It combines Santi's love of rock and Will's love of the blues.

Enjoys jazz but also classical music. He has more interest in the instruments than the lyrics of music anyway.

Him and Frankie both love love love Johnny Cash (who doesn't?)

Will loves suduko

He loves things that calm his mind.

Will likes sports, it was how him and Ben spent a lot of time on the farm.

To this day he likes going out to play ball with Ben. It helps Benny with his ADHD.

Benjamin Miller

Benny does not find tossing a ball around or playing basketball helps his ADHD at all

What he does find is that is helps Will's obbsessive obsessive worrying about him.

So, in that sense, Ben likes it because 1. it's fun and 2. it's a rare chance where he can help Will. Will doesn't let people help him much

Benny looooooves trash TV

The Bachelor, Love after Lockup, Love is Blind

He likes shows he doesn'thave to pay a whole lot of attentionto.

Not that Benny isn't smart bc I haaaaate when people act like he isn't.

But with his ADHD (which I hc he has) he tends to have a lot of things going at once. He's not going to be able to sit down and fully commit to something like The Handmaid's Tale.

Will go head to head on country music with Will and Frankie

he likes the bro country like Florida Goergia Line, Jason Aldean

No one ever accussed him of great taste, okay?

He's here for a good time, not a long time.

He doesn't like the racist or anti-lgbt artists and won't give them his money for concerts

But you can't fauly him for getting don to Red Solo Cup

Also loves classic hair metal (wore an AC/DC shirt most of the movie)

Francisco Morales

Frankie loves country music and grunge

His favorite Benny singing tho

Favorite is anything Chris Cornell and I'll stand by that!!!

Soundgarden, Audioslave, Temple of the Dog, his solo work

Frankie is a busy man, but I like to think he likes lego's

He's an enginier, so you know he's a smart man. I bet he loves making lego sets come together

Frankie has very strong opinions on children's television.

Bubble Guppies > Paw Patrol

Hates Paw Patrol but his daughter likes Skye becuase she's a hellicopter/pilot dog so he allows it.

Loves being out in nature. He's trying ot instill a love of the outdoors in his daughter, but also loves pending time with the guy, or even by himself

When he's overwhelmed, Frankie likes to go for a walks in the woods.

Will fuck up a farmers market all DAY

Oddly enjoys mowing the lawn

My man is Hank Hill

"Why would anyone do drugs hen they could just mow their lawn."

Now that he's sober, he finds lawncare is a great way to distract himself while still being a present father. He can do that while his daughter plays.

******************

thank you so much for the ask!!!! i love chatting about my boys <3

#frankie morales #francisco morales #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #triple frontier #will miller #william miller #ben miller #benjamin miller #francisco catfish morales #oscar isaac #garrett hedlund #charlie hunnam #pedro pascal

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reveluving · 6 months

Text

come fly with me

summary: the beauty of your first dance with Trystan!

pairing: m!trystan thorne x f!mc (written as ‘you’, no name usage)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff & spoilers from book 2!

a/n: seems like we’re not done with the wedding wonders, and I’m all up for it! Consider this a continuation of this piece, so thank you dear @starsarewithinme for your curiosity! 💗 don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» fancy reading another choices fic? check out my m.list!

Learning the dance would be easy, not necessarily because you know how to dance very well but because Trystan is the only teacher you will ever need for it, so you don’t feel as hesitant or shy as you’d probably be with an actual instructor. Just imagine him offering you his hand for a quick dance practice during sleepless nights or when just can’t progress in your work as the two of you are cooped up in the office all day. Despite the hustle and bustle outside of the company or your apartment, it pales in comparison to the very room you’re in.

All but one light as your guide in the dim as the song plays on the speaker of your phone.

But that begs the question; what kind of song would it be?

Whether or not it is your first relationship, there is no wilder partner than Trystan Nikolay Zabolutnikov Thorne. Your lives have been a whiplash. One moment, it's fast-paced, and then, it eases. Oftentimes melodramatic along the way. Here, your song resonates with you. The kind where you can just see glimpses of your past and how the worst have nearly bested you, if not for the other. The kind that would have you tear up at the very end, remembering those who are unable to see how far you’ve come not just in terms of the relationship, but what made you you in the first place. But you know you have nothing to fear when you feel the comforting lips of your now-husband. It’s the kind of moment that could make Astrid or Patryk gag but also bring a tear in Uncle T’s or Ruby’s eye.

— Golden Hour by Jvke • Amusement Park by Baekhyun • Only by Lee Hi

How about something more lively? Upbeat, sentimental to your relationship, where despite the few bumps on the road, something better awaits for the two of you, just enough to make you forget your worries, even for a little while. The world can be a nasty one and it may not always be good to you, but all things come to those who wait. You may not show your love as easily as he does, and that’s alright. He already knows just how much you care, and how blessed he is to honour the sweeter side of yours that many others don’t have the privilege of. Life may not always be about rainbows and sunshine, but who is to say you and Trystan can’t work the rainy days to your advantage?

— Je T'aime by Joy • Can't Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli & The 4 Seasons

Relaxing at a café is one thing, but when there is good jazz or R&B music? Perfection. So, who wouldn’t love a jazzy number to go with the tiramisu that they’ve gotten off at the buffet? Fitting with the outdoor-at-dusk aesthetic, you may want a song that doesn’t overdo the flair but the lyrics speak for themselves. The intimate eye-gazing, the sharing of smiles, the quick peck on the forehead. Though the least of your concern, it may be the song most generally appreciated by the guest, because what’s more romantic than swaying with your partner to a soulful blues?

— (There Is) No Greater Love by Amy Winehouse • Blinking Game by Jonghyun • In Love by Vietra • Try Again by d.ear x JAEHYUN

Bonus! About you!

You may have gotten your love for R&B/Jazz/Soul from Jimmy, with his collection of vinyl records organized in its very own storage shelf. Trystan enjoys listening to you hum a random tune of one of the songs as you dust the collection every few weeks, ensuring your father’s prized possession doesn’t collect too much dust.

The once depressing memory of your father dispelling your worries about his career by playing his vinyl player and dancing with you slowly has now turned into a happier one as you get to share the moment with Trystan!

Bonus! About Kimi!

Slowly yet surely when her heart mends over Jimmy’s passing, she collects her own set of music, arranging them with her father's shelf. Though not always as vinyl records nor necessarily in English (thus, the recommendation of K-R&B songs you see above), it also pays homage to her Japanese mother, who was an avid fan of both R&B beyond The United States and her utmost favourite, Citypop!

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» I may be geeking a little. Ehehehe! I admit, I fear some songs may not fit for a first dance since it’s not the most common wedding culture here, but the nature of the music is too good to pass up, so take it as a form of inspiration, or the kind of songs that you would dance to after, and I’d highly recommend giving them a listen!

» Or if you have a couple of songs that you would waltz with Mr Thorne to, I’d love to hear it below! I can’t thank you enough for reading and sharing. Enjoy your weekdays!

» tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for fic of the week ;; & the gorgeous dividers by @firefly-graphics ♡

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nyxcharliechaos · 3 months

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What the name of the webcomic you want to make and what the plot about

it's called The Arcania Project (Arcania being the name of the island the story takes place on), it's about this group of dumbass gay theater kids that are friends and keep either getting attacked by the chapters villain or go seek the threat because some of them are smart enough to make a RWBY style weapon that goes from a needed cane one character refuses to use to 3 types of swords all of them are dumbasses...this is a rather goofy and simplistic description but each chapter is a new threat and I don't want to give away too much, I will say it's revealed that the villains are more connected than they initially seemed and some have connections to the main cast.

speaking of the cast a quick run down

Nyx Chaos: a shadow puppet hybrid that's most easily described as a disney/musical villain put into the role of a hero, and a punk working as a radio host at a local dinner (they/them)

Lucy Harvestar: a Scottish/Irish werewolf that adores all things musical theater (except RENT) and is the resident bad ass lesbian (and is dating Nyx) (she/they)

Virgil Creek: the literal antichrist who's a goofball that loves polka music and the colour pink and is just here for friends (he/him+any)

Frankie Hitchcock: a western green mamba with leucism that's almost never seen not smiling, and loves old media and photography, works at the dinner I mentioned earlier (they/them)

Xzim Jones: an original creature of mine called a lewlridge (a hybrid with who knows what), he likes playing detective and tends to be the go to when solving a mystery and well there's quite a bit of that so (he/him)

Courage Thompson: a dream spirit in the form of a dog that has an interest in psychology, botany, and horror movies (he/him agender)

Lyric: technically a human though with the dna of several animals, they're flirty, the most likely to make a sexual joke/reference, and really like soft thing and plushies (any pronouns, usually referred to with they/them)

Gala: a dream/nightmare spirit hybrid, a petty bitch that will hold a grudge, she's quite proud of her Romani heritage...her English heritage not so much lol (she/her)

if a lot of these characters seem to be nonbinary it's because I'm nonbinary and I like making my characters fellow enbies, if you want to learn more just check out the tag oc on my blog, just take anything pre 2022 with a grain of salt

#oc #ocs #i should probably start tagging the arcania project #...yeah #the Arcania Project #sorry if it's taking me a minute to get to your ask #I keep getting to them before I have to do something and then I get busy and forget #I'm working on it though

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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years

Text

Love In The Time of Covid: Chapter Two

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

chapter rating: M (talk of Covid/early pandemic, one racy picture, dad!frankie, talks of lockdown, mentions of a previous addiction, i think that’s it?)

word count: 3.6k

authors note: this story is set literally right before the world was sent into full lockdown (march-ish), hence why Frankie is still hanging out with Santi. also, as a swiftie i know Folklore came out in July of 2020 but we’re gonna pretend like it came out in March instead bc i can’t get enough of folklore!frankie :)

series masterlist

Today was the first day after Frankie’s two week quarantine, the negative test result sheet in his hand bringing a smile to his face as he left the clinic to head back home. He had a very busy weekend ahead of him, but before he could enjoy it, he had to break down and clean up his now trashed apartment.

The first thing he did when he got home was fix himself a bowl of cereal, devouring it in record time—something he never seemed to unlearn after his time in the military. After he was finished, he turned on his speaker and connected his phone, his music shuffling until he landed on his favorite song at the moment, singing out the lyrics unabashedly.

“SWEET TEA IN THE SUMMER, CROSS MY HEART WON’T TELL NO OTHER—“ Frankie was in the middle of scrubbing the pile of dishes in his sink when his phone stopped playing music, his ringtone blaring instead. Wiping his hands on a paper towel, he walked over to it on the table and grabbed it, seeing his ex’s name on his screen. With a sigh, he slid the green arrow and lifted the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, you’re supposed to have Alondra this week.” He rolled his eyes at her tone.

“Yes.”

“Okay…so…where are you? I’ve got shit to do, Frankie. Can’t wait around all day for you to decide to pick up your daughter.” Frankie lifted the phone from his ear and flipped the screen off before bringing it back.

“I’m cleaning my apartment up, Viviana. I’ll be at your place in a fucking hour. Is that fine? Can your shit wait until then? Or would you like our child to come back to my dirty apartment?” He only heard a sigh in response before she ended the phone call, tossing his phone back onto the table and pressing play. “PACK YOUR DOLLS AND A SWEATER. WE’LL MOVE TO INDIA FOREVER.”

He shuffled around his one bedroom apartment with purpose, excited to not only have Alondra back in his arms this weekend, but also because of the park date he and Mariposa—a nickname he so lovingly bestowed upon his new love after learning that she had not one, but five different butterfly tattoos (though he had yet to learn their locations)—set for the next afternoon.

Walking into his bedroom, he scratched his head as he took in the boxes of un-assembled furniture—a crib, a changing table, and a dresser. He let out a huff and rubbed the hair on his chin, feeling that familiar itch to soothe his stress with illegal substances. He shook his head at the mere thought of relapsing and turned around, heading into the kitchen to grab his phone, ignoring the urge to call Mariposa up—he didn’t want their first date to be assembling furniture—and instead choosing Santi’s contact.

“Look who it is!” Santi beamed through the video call, Frankie chuckling at his enthusiasm. “You covid-free finally?”

“Yeah, I’m picking up Alondra in a half hour, but I still need to put together the furniture I got for her. You get tested recently?”

“Yeah, me and la novia went yesterday because we’ve got a flight to Texas coming up this week.”

“Could I possibly steal you away from her and get some help tonight?” Frankie asked with his best smile, Santi groaning dramatically. “C’mon, I have beer.”

“Oh, sure then, yeah. I’m down. Come pick me up after you secure the bebé.”

“Alright be there in about an hour.”

•••

“Frankie,” Viviana greeted him with a glare, arms crossed over her chest as she stood in the doorway. “You’re late.”

Frankie looked down at his watch, brows furrowed.

“I’m three minutes late.” He argued through his mask, only receiving an eye roll before she was walking him inside the home he used to share with her.

It hadn’t always been this way with Viviana. When they first met five years ago, she was a carefree grad-student studying to be a veterinarian. Kindness and affection radiated from her, catching his eye immediately at some house party Benny dragged him to. What began as a coked-up fuck in a strangers bathroom soon evolved to a full on relationship full of a lot of ups and downs—mostly downs—until the surprise conception of their baby girl. Now, all he could see when he looked at her were the many red flags he chose to ignore right up until a few months ago when she made the choice for him—and thank god she did.

“Oh hey, man. Nice to finally meet you.” Frankie’s jaw clenched as he spotted his replacement sitting at the kitchen table he helped pick out feeding his daughter with a casual smile. Frankie turned to Viviana, whispering to her with his back turned to her boyfriend.

“I asked you to not bring him around—“

“You’re not around, Frankie. I needed help.” She spat, Frankie scoffing at her argument.

“I was sick. With fucking Covid. Remember? The shit going around killing people that we know like nothing about?” She breezed past him, ignoring his valid defense and lifting Alondra from her high chair. Frankie accepted his daughter into his arms gladly, kissing her cheek through the cotton of his mask a few times before looking down at her, her grin growing wide until she let out a laugh. He kissed her forehead again, having missed the sound of his happy baby girl more than he’d ever missed anything.

“Remember, she’s allergic to bananas so look at all the labels before—“

“I know, V.” He shrugged on her diaper bag, allowing his ex to say goodbye to their daughter before the two were on their way.

“Hola cabrón!” Santi greeted Frankie with a smile, slipping into the passenger seat and patting his shoulder before turning around to look at Alondra in the backseat, reaching to pinch her foot. “Hola, muñecita.”

“We gotta stop at the store so I can grab some baby shit.” Frankie was still tense after his not-so nice reunion with the mother of his child, Santi quickly taking note of his attitude.

“Didn’t go well?” He asked carefully, Frankie looking over at him with an unamused look.

“She had her guy over. Fucking feeding Alondra like he’s her dad.” He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove to the nearest Target. “And V was finding any fucking reason to make me feel like shit. I never realized it back when we were together, but she’s so fucking…annoying.”

“Yeah, we all caught onto that pretty early on.”

“And yet no one thought to tell me?” Santi couldn’t help but chuckle at the question. They all very much had told Frankie about their distaste for Viviana, he just never listened.

“You’re ridiculous,” he chuckled again, shaking his head as he looked back at Alondra squawking in the backseat. “Que pasa, niña? What’re you squawking about?”

Frankie’s phone lit up as it rested on the dash mount, Santi chuckling and teasing him as he read the contact name, “Mariposa 🦋”.

“Who’s that, huh? Frankie’s got a girlfriend?” He teased, nudging Frankie’s side with a shit eating grin, Frankie rolling his eyes and chuckling against his will.

“It’s the delivery girl,” he told him your name and Santi ooo-ed at the blush on his friends face. “Can you stop smiling like that and be useful? Open it for me, man.”

“Sure thing, pal.” Santi kept his grin on as he lifted the phone off the mount and opened it up, his eyes going wide at the sight of a racy photo on the screen. “Jesus, Fish!”

“What?” Frankie looked over at caught a glimpse of the picture, quickly snatching it from Santi’s hands and locking it. “What the fuck man?”

“What the fuck to you! You told me to open it!” He laughed through his defense, Frankie’s cheeks now flushed red.

“I didn’t know that…I—fuck off.” Santi looked back at Alondra, getting the baby girl to join him in his laughter.

“Papá tiene una novia, mija.” Alondra giggled without having a clue what he was saying. “Yeah, that’s funny, huh?”

“I shoulda called Benny.”

•••

You weren’t exactly sure what came over you.

Frankie had been a complete gentleman the entire week that the two of you had been talking, never once pulling anything or pushing you into the typical sexting shit that men usually tried this early on. He was consistent and honest, interesting and funny—checking every single box you had, which wasn’t an easy feat.

Somehow, your appreciation for him turned into horniness which then turned into a mini-photo shoot in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, eager to reward him for his very gentlemanly behavior and possibly get a glimpse of what he was like beyond it.

Your modesty was covered only by a skimpy thong and your arm over your breasts, your makeup and hair done up more than it would usually be on a Friday afternoon. You took a few different photos from different angles, but landed on an angle that showed off your curves best, pressing the blue arrow without second thought so that you wouldn’t lose your nerve.

“What the fuck did you just do, idiot?” You scolded yourself as you laid face first on your mattress. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off or come across as a creep who only wanted to fuck.

Thirty minutes had passed, your hands busy baking copious amounts of banana bread to keep the anxiety at bay. You felt like shit, ruining the first genuine connection you’d felt in a long time because you were horny? Idiot.

Right as you stuffed the next few loaf tins in the oven, your phone buzzed on the counter, your heart sinking to your feet at the sound. You almost didn’t want to look at it, your hope far too high to be let down by someone else’s name on the screen, but you couldn’t keep your curiosity at bay. Reaching for the phone, you gasped at the sight of “Rocketman ✈️” gracing your screen, your nickname for him after the two of you watched the film together over Zoom a couple days ago.

F: Mariposa, you’re so fucking beautiful. You trying to give me a heart attack in Target?

You giggled, looking around you at the mess of your panic baking as you thought up a witty response.

M: No heart attacks until you see me in person.

F: Deal.

F: What kind of wine do you like, bebita? I’m getting stuff for our picnic tomorrow.

You melted onto the counter, groaning at his sweet thoughtfulness.

M: Are you real?

F: Unfortunately yeah

M: I like you a lot, Rocketman. And anything pink, please!

F: I like you, Mariposa. A shit ton. My friend is here laughing at me as I type this because of my stupid fucking grin.

F: And you got it, anything else you want? Fruit, sweets, cheese? You name it, bebita.

M: I’m blushing like a fucking idiot, Frankie. You’re too cute. And no, your company and a glass of wine is perfect.

F: Sounds good, sweetheart.

A half hour passed before your phone buzzed again, Frankie’s contact on your screen again. You bit your lip as you opened the message, chuckling when you read it.

F: Hey this is Santi, Frankie’s real novia. Here’s your man.

M: Tell the guy on the right he’s hot

F: He’s blushing

F: Now he’s trying to take the phone awafbdhsu

F: Santi is an idiot, sorry you had the misfortune of talking to him, Mariposa.

M: Sounds like I’m gonna have to share you 🤨

F: He wishes.

F: I’m driving right now, but I’ll call you later on, pretty girl. Miss your voice 💞

M: Miss your voice, too. Be safe, pretty boy. 😘

•••

“Did you hear they’re talking about forcing everyone into fucking quarantine? Like shutting shit down?” Santi asked as he and Frankie sat together on his sofa, Alondra bouncing in her playseat while the boys drank beer and watched Frankie’s current comfort show, Nathan For You. “Can you imagine? Not being allowed to see anybody, having to stay in your fucking house all day long?”

“Sounds like what I’m already doing,” Frankie shrugged.

“No, puto. You wouldn’t get to hang out with me or the guys, wouldn’t get to see your girl, and I’m sure it’s not gonna make your split custody situation any easier.” Frankie turned to him with a concerned look. “Hey, but it’s all just talk for now. I’m sure it’s not gonna get that bad.”

“Let’s hope,” Frankie turned back to the screen, lifting his beer to his lips before pulling his phone out of his pocket. The realization that there might come a day soon that he wouldn’t have physical access to Mariposa made him all the more excited for their date tomorrow. “Hey, I’m gonna go down for a smoke. Can you watch Alondra?”

“Sure thing, Fish.”

Frankie made his way downstairs to the parking lot of his apartment complex, taking a cigarette out and lighting it as he waited for her to pick up his FaceTime.

“Hi, Rocketman.” Mariposa beamed at him through the screen with a playful grin.

“Hey, Mariposa,” he smiled back, leaning against the bumper of his jeep. “Are you busy?”

“No, just finishing up a paper. What are you up to? Is Alondra settled in?”

“Yeah, she’s inside with Santi. We just put together her crib, her changing table thing, and now we just have to finish up with the dresser.” He took an inhale of his cigarette and breathed it out, eyes fixed on her undone state, blown away that she somehow looked even better like this—hair in a bun, reading glasses on, an oversized sweatshirt with a stain on it. “Santi, uh, he just killed my mood a bit. He’s pretty good at that, you’ll come to realize when you get to know him.”

“What did he say?” She asked with a furrow in her brows, tone laced with concern.

“He just reminded me about the fact that we might all go on lockdown soon. Gonna make it a bitch to see Alondra…and to see you.” Mariposa gave him an empathetic smile, tilting her head at him. “If that happens, you know, mandatory quarantine or whatever…I guess I just wanted to let you know that I’m not going anywhere. You know? Even if we can’t see each other in person for a while, I, uh…I really like you, so—I guess I just wanted to tell you that I’m here. I’m in it.”

“I’m in it too, Frankie,” she beamed again. “Seriously, I…haven’t ever connected like this with someone before. So…a little lockdown isn’t gonna change that.”

“Good,” he chuckled shyly and nodded, eyes bouncing across her features adoringly.

“So…about that picture I sent earlier,” she bit her lip and looked away from the camera as she chuckled. “It wasn’t too much, right? I don’t want you to think that’s all I’m after or anything. I just…was in a mood, I guess and you’ve been such a gentleman, I just got a little…worked up over the thought of you.”

“Worked up, huh?” Frankie smirked and looked around at the empty parking lot before speaking again. “No, bebita, it wasn’t too much. Believe me when I say I’ve been thinking about it since you sent it.”

“I could…send another? If you’d like?” She gave him a hopeful smile before biting her lip again, Frankie having to calm his lower half at the sound of her voice turning just a bit more sultry than usual. As much as he wanted to see more of her, he also wanted to take it slow, not rush into anything and ruin the good thing that they were building.

“Mariposa, I’d love to see more of you, but what do you think about us taking it slow for now?” She looked shocked by his response, his heart rate speeding up as she went speechless. “Trust me, I want to see you. You’re so beautiful, baby, but…I’ve jumped into a lot of shit in the past really quickly and I don’t want this to be rushed like that, you know?”

“No, I get it,” she nodded, her eyes meeting his again. “I’m just not used to men treating me as good as you do, Frankie. Gonna take some getting used to.”

“I just care about us creating something lasting, Mariposa. I like you too much to risk ruining it for sex,” she smiled at him, all trace of her earlier disappointment gone. “So…on another note, tomorrow we’re gonna have a third wheel, I hope that’s okay.”

“Well, it depends on if it’s Santi or Alondra. Santi—not okay. Alondra—very okay.” He chuckled and asked out his cigarette, smiling at the thought of Mariposa and Alondra together. If Viviana was going to have her partner around their kid, he no longer felt guilty over the thought of his new love meeting his daughter.

“Bebe, I can promise you, I wouldn’t subject you to Santi this early on.”

“How’d you two meet?”

Frankie sat outside for another half-hour talking to Mariposa about his past in the military, how he met Santi and the rest of the boys, how he ended up here in Florida. It wasn’t until Santi came walking over with Alondra in his arms that he realized how long he’d been gone, suddenly feeling incredibly selfish for leaving his baby girl with his friend for so long.

“She made a poo-poo,” Santi whispered, handing over the stinky baby to his friend.

“Is that Santi?” Mariposa asked and Frankie sighed.

“Yeah,” Santi looked full of mischief as he plucked the phone out of Frankie’s hands and ran through the parking lot, knowing that his friend wouldn’t try to chase him with his daughter in his arms. “Well, hello there,” Santi greeted with his winning smile. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Did you just kidnap me?” She asked with an amused smirk, eating popcorn.

“Yeah, he’s keepin’ pretty mum about you besides the blushing and grinning. So I guess I gotta figure out if you’re a killer or something myself.” Santi watched as Frankie walked at a careful pace towards him. “You collect dead animals or anything like that?”

“No, no dead animals, unfortunately. Just one live one.” Santi watched as the camera was flipped around to show off her cat that Frankie had already come to love, Miles.

“Frankie’s a dog guy, babe. It ain’t gonna work.” Santi shrugged, unimpressed.

“Oh yeah? Frankie says otherwise.”

“Well, yeah, he’s trying to butter you up. Trust me, sweetie, daddy knows him better than you do.” She laughed at that, Santi taking it as a green flag that she was so at ease with his teasing.

“Are you daddy?” Frankie reached him in time to hear her question, giving Santi a confused smile and a head tilt.

“She keeps calling me daddy, I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

“Yeah, right.” Frankie heard her scoff as he took his phone back, shaking his head into the camera, watching proudly as her eyes lit up at the sight of him. “I’m so glad you’re back. I think Santi’s trying to scare off his competition.”

“Yeah, he’s obsessed with me.” Frankie pushed Santi away from him playfully as they reached the stairs up to his apartment. “Mariposa, I gotta finish up this dresser so that I can send Santi back home and out of my face.”

“Okay, tell daddy and Alondra I said goodnight.”

“He’s not daddy. Don’t—that’s gonna go straight to his fucking head. Already too big,” Frankie chuckled and set Alondra down on her playmat. “Goodnight, mi Mariposa. I’ll see you tomorrow at 10?”

“Can’t wait, Rocketman.” With that, Frankie reluctantly hung up and tucked his phone back into his pocket, feeling a little better about his lockdown panic knowing that she was on the same page as him. It didn’t feel like they had a ticking countdown on their budding relationship anymore, both in it regardless of how often they got to see each other in person.

“I like her,” Santi spoke up as they started back on the dresser.

“Shut up.” Frankie was used to Santi’s sarcasm, not once hearing him genuinely compliment one of his past girlfriends aside from their looks.

“No, seriously. I like her. She’s funny, she seems like she’d be cool to hang out with. Nothing like the girls you usually go for.” Frankie smiled to himself, his friends approval meaning more to him than he’d ever care to admit.

“She just like…gets me? And likes talking to me? It’s wild.” Frankie focused on twisting the screw into place as he spoke to prevent a boyish grin from creeping onto his lips. “Just feels like her and I could sit and talk forever, you know? Haven’t had that kind of connection before. Like…Viviana? That was just sexual and coke-fueled, but I swore it was love. This isn’t like that, and it’s really nice.”

“Does she know about all that? The coke and shit?” Santi asked, dropping his typical playfulness to have a real conversation.

“Yeah, told her about it the first night we talked.” He set down the allen-wrench and looked at his friend with a smirk. “She was so understanding. Her parents were both addicts so, she gets it, ya know? And, anyways, it just makes me want to not slip back into all that even more. I don’t want her to have to deal with that shit from me.”

“That’s good, man. I’m glad you’re with someone who brings out good shit in you rather than…well, whatever Viviana brought out.” The boys stood up to lift the dresser upright, moving it from the living room and back into the bedroom. “Also doesn’t hurt that she’s hot.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Frankie chuckled and rolled his eyes.

Mariposa was hot. And nice to talk to. And fucking funny. She was the total package and there was no way he was letting his ghosts or a little bug going around ruin that. He wasn’t about to let something this good slip from his fingers. He’d cure Covid himself if he had to.

•••

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