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#I missed frankie
lowlights · 3 months
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Hi. I'm back, and I wrote this in about an hour so be nice. This is 100% inspired by @ezrasbirdie's Twinkle and the very lovely dream it gave me. So this is Birdee's fault.
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Perfect Fit
Frankie Morales x plus size f!reader // 1.3k
Warnings: Reader is a curvy lady with big titties and a belly, f receiving oral, mutual masturbation, cum eating, lots of praise, language, a smidge of insecurity but it doesn't last long, reader borrows Frankie's shirt, a very feral Frankie who has got it BAD for reader. Use of good girl and bebita. I also maintain that Frankie is a babbler during sex. Oh also Frankie is in sweatpants, which is a gift to us all.
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The flickering lights of the TV lit up your face, an old rom-com from the '90s that you had seen a million times playing on the screen. You laughed at every joke, even though you could recite every line if asked. Frankie heard you mutter them under your breath sometimes, which he would have found annoying if it had been anyone else. Never with you though. 
He wasn’t paying a damn bit of attention to the movie, though.
Not for the past twenty minutes at least. Not when you were wearing those leggings and his threadbare grey t-shirt which you had borrowed for the night. Frankie could barely drag his eyes away from how his shirt pulled tight on your gorgeous tits or how the hem had rolled up just enough to show your soft tummy. 
He felt like a pervert ogling you like a fucking teenager who could barely control himself, even though you had been dating for more than six months. He was allowed to ogle, but you had just had a week from hell at work and had been looking forward to a relaxing night at Frankie’s place. He could keep his hands off of you for a couple of hours so you could watch your favorite movie in peace. 
You shifted slightly on his brown leather sectional and leaned into him, tucking your legs up and under you. Frankie stiffened, and you noticed. Normally he would put his hand on your knee or his arm around your shoulder. Instead, his hands flexed as he straightened out invisible wrinkles on his sweatpants.
“You alright, babe?” You pushed a stray curl behind Frankie’s ear. You made a mental note to give him a haircut this weekend. You’d been putting it off; you liked his hair on the longer side. 
“Fine, fine. Just, uh- gonna go get a glass of water.” He stood up so quickly that you practically fell over. 
“I…okay?” you mumbled as he made a beeline for the kitchen. He was gone long enough for the movie to culminate with the big romantic kiss and the happily ever after, making his way back to the couch as you clicked off the credits. He settled back next to you but a little further away than before and stared straight ahead. 
Doubt gnawed at you. “Are you upset with me, Frankie? Is it because I made you watch this dumb movie again?” you asked softly, fiddling with one of your rings. The relationship was still new enough that you didn’t know how to read all of his emotions just yet.
His head whipped around. “What? No! Not at all, baby. I’m just- tired. You’re tired too, yeah? Should we go to bed?” His eyes darted down to your shirt, which made you realize how far it had ridden up. 
You pulled down on it out of habit, and Frankie frowned. “Are you sure?” you asked. 
Frankie shook his head. “C’mere,” he instructed as he helped you over to straddle his hips. You draped your arms around his broad shoulders, gasping slightly as he rolled his erection against you. “You’ve been driving me fucking crazy, baby. Do you know that? Feel what you do to me?” 
“But I haven’t been doing anything?” You were genuinely confused. 
Frankie nuzzled his nose against your chest, breathing heavily. “You look so good in my shirt. Damn, it fits you just fucking right.” 
You cupped his face and pulled him up for a kiss, his tongue immediately begging for entrance. Frankie kissed you like it was his last chance, like you were the last gasp of air he would ever take. “This shirt barely fits,” you admitted when you both broke to catch your breath. 
“It’s perfect,” he said adamantly. “Don’t ever wear anything else.” 
You giggled and kissed him again before he lifted you off and leaned you back so you could stretch out on the chaise portion of the couch. He had fucked you more than once here in the months since he had bought it. A christening, he had called it, the night it had been delivered. 
Without a word, Frankie helped you shimmy out of your leggings and underwear, stopping to stare at you as he tossed them over his shoulder. You smiled, and felt powerful. No man ever looked at you the way Frankie had looked at you since the first night you met. He was enraptured, enthralled. And he looked like he wanted to feast on you. You bent one knee up and let it fall against the couch. His cock noticeably jumped, pressing against his sweats. 
“Oh fuck. Look at my girl, she looks so pretty.” Frankie settled on his belly and pulled your leg up over his shoulder. He left a trail of kisses up your inner thigh before softly kissing your cunt. He buried his nose against your curls and inhaled deeply. “Smell so fucking good for me.” 
Frankie wasted no time and licked a slow and tortuous stripe up your slit before flicking his tongue against your clit. He built a steady pace, pushing you to the edge and easing back over and over again. 
“Christ, Frankie, oh my- Frankie, Frankie, Frankie,” you babbled as you threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling him against your cunt as it clenched around nothing. He licked up everything you gave him before standing up and ripping off his clothes, his cock bobbing as he stepped out of his pants. His chin was wet with your orgasm, and his pupils looked blown out. 
“Bebita, I need you to touch yourself. Rub that gorgeous clit, please? Please, baby,” he begged, stroking and squeezing himself as you gently rubbed circles on your sensitive clit. “Such a good girl, doing just what I ask.” 
His praise made something low in your stomach clench and you arched your hips up, eyes fluttering closed.
“No, bebita, look at me, please. Lemme see those eyes. Yes, yes. Can you put a finger inside?” he practically begged, hand quickening over his leaking cock. 
“Yes, Frankie,” you shuddered as you exhaled, slipping one finger easily into your relaxed cunt. 
“Another, baby, please?” He moaned, never taking his eyes off you, as you complied and added in a second finger. He watched you move them in and out, snaking your other hand down to rub on your clit. “I’m so close, where- where can I? Quick, tell me.” 
You pulled your fingers out and spread your legs wide. “Here, Frankie, here.” The words had barely left your mouth before he was standing over you, one knee resting on the couch as he decorated your pussy with ropes of cum. You gripped his thigh and watched as he worked himself through his orgasm. He was always so pretty when he came, mouth open and dark brown eyelashes grazing against his cheeks. 
Frankie bent over to where you leaned against the cushion so he could kiss you, whispering praise between each breath and lick of his tongue. “Gonna get you cleaned up,” he said finally. 
You expected him to go get a washcloth from the bathroom - he always made sure it was nice and warm - but instead, he settled back between your thighs. “Frankie?” you squeaked as he started licking your inner thigh. 
“I said I need to clean you up, baby. Now take off that shirt and let me see those pretty tits?” He looked up at you with pleading eyes. You would do anything he asked, and in this moment he knew it. You tossed your shirt over your head and Frankie rolled your nipple between his thumb and finger as he dove back down between your thighs. 
“Good girl, always so good for me,” he hummed as he licked himself off of you. “Gonna make you come again on my tongue, then I’m gonna make you come on my cock. Gonna have you all night, bebita.” 
You threw your head back as he sucked gently on your clit. “All this because I wore your shirt?” you chuckled. 
Frankie was too busy to respond. But he made good on his promises that night. 
And always left the shirt out for you to wear whenever you wanted. 
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wondrousmay · 6 months
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One of the things that I really love about Anya is how empathetic she is. While she doesn’t really understand Yuri’s complicated thoughts, she knew he need comfort and she offered it to him in a way she knows how: giving pats.
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She did the same with the cow, Yor and Franky too. I love Anya a lot!
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utterdrip · 4 months
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hello darling
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mintypsii · 20 days
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usopp and his thing for blondes who are protective of him
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alazystranger · 2 months
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another scene of luffy drawing something can fix a lot of my problems tbh. because look at this(also, the way robin is watching on so fondly <3)
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i love how terrified they are lmao. we need more of these .
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lukasbestgirl · 10 months
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Statement pieces!!! ✨⚡💎⚡✨
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lhonert · 1 year
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bored 
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dameronscopilot · 7 months
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triple frontier 2 wouldn’t even need a plot. no stakes. no worldly, near-death adventures. no helicopters to wreck. bags of money abandoned in a ravine, who?
just give me the most self-indulgent, slice of life, buddy comedy about those four idiots going about their daily lives. film it with an iphone for all i care. a script? just let them wing it.
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luffy1fan · 1 year
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i love him though
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wigglesdtuff · 1 year
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A little Frobin for your Saturday
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diver5ion · 3 months
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frnkiebby · 1 month
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more of that pretty smile~🎃
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utterdrip · 4 months
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sharing some new dialogue with astarion and us discussing the gur children that i found. so incredibly heartbreaking aha
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loronoazoro · 1 year
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I think the thing I liked most about Franky’s pre-timeskip design was that he more or less looked like a Regular Human Man at first glance. Like yeah he’s got giant forearms and wacky hair and a silver nose but the one piece world has seen weirder things. 
So we get to have the experience of watching a world government goon go okay I’m going to shoot at this man. Wait why aren’t the bullets working. Wait why is he raising his arm like that. Wait wHYS THERE A GUN IN THERE. WHERE DID THAT MISSILE COME FROM. 
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a-dauntless-daffodil · 7 months
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The Question of Cleo's Night Light!
Clawdeen: Uh, Cleo? Why are you carrying a nightlight?
Cleo: Wh- tHIS nightlight?! Oh it's uhhh, just, like um, an accessory...?
Draculaura: Are you scared of the-
Cleo: Pfft, who me? A fully embalmed mummy? Scared of the DARK? Nooo, of course not! This is-
Clawdeen: Cleo-
Frankie: IT'S MINE! It's for me, I mean!
Clawdeen: Say what?
Draculaura: What?
Cleo: What.
Frankie: Cleo carries it around when we hang out because I'm the one who's scared of the dark.
Daculaura: Oh! Oh Frankie, I had no idea. You hide it so well...
Clawdeen: Boo, what have we said about hiding stuff that upsets you?
Frankie: Errr, not to? Heheheh...
-LATER-
Cleo: Frankie, that was- very sweet of you-
Frankie: Anything for you, Cleo!
Cleo: But! I can't have you lying to your friends for me like that. I mean monsters always think it's no big deal, and the next thing you know-
Frankie: Don't worry, I didn't lie.
Cleo: Okay, I know I put my inner ears in a jar, but the rest of them are totally fine. And I totally heard you fib for me, Frankie Stein.
Frankie: Nope! I didn't! Anything that makes you sad really IS scary to me too!
Cleo: .... really?
Frankie: Yup! Cross-stich my heart!
Frankie: Well I mean actually it's kinda your heart now, I guess. Or your family's tomb's heart? Is that how giving a heart works?
Cleo: Okay seriously, how are you REAL?
Frankie: Oh oh OH, I love this story! It started out one daaaark and stormy night, when a bunch of monsters died. Turns out they were all organ donors! Sooo my parents were like "Cool! Free organs!" and....
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undercoverpena · 2 months
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not me waking up and thinking about bookshop! reader and frankie morales. turning the sign so it reads “closed” on the anniversary of their first date. the two of you all set to reenact it—but sexier. I’m talking his hands pressing you to bookshelves, asking you to grab things from lower shelves and you flirting with him using titles of books with suggestive wording. but even in the midst of pretend, he can’t stop looking at you in the way he has done since the first meeting—all in awe, completely infatuated. and honestly, you can’t help but look at him the same.
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