#frankie adam’s is fucking gorgeous

[ive-fallen-and-i-cannot-get-up]

for your viewing pleasure

#i don’t love the hair #but honestly #idc #frankie adam’s is fucking gorgeous #no matter how her hair looks #i had a great time drawing this #bc it gave me a reason to look at the reference image for prolonged periods of time #big win #bobbie draper #the expanse

[lavendertales]

Sweet lies: Chapter 5

pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

summary: the Millers invite everyone over at their place for Valentine’s day, and things have never felt lonelier for you. But the end of the night has a surprise twist for you.

word count: 5k

A/N: now we’re getting into the juicy part. huge thanks to @cheshire-noir​ for helping me with a good part of this!

Comments & reblogs are forever appreciated 💕 

gif: @pascalsky

series masterlist | AO3 

As much as you tried to remain the professional and hardworking person you have always been, that Friday had your mind spinning relentlessly.

Last night’s dinner was still fresh on your mind, taunting you alongside Frankie and Andrea. Worst part was that you actually liked Andrea. It was virtually impossible to nest any negative feelings towards someone so incredible. 

But then you recalled Frankie’s hesitant side glares, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each nervous gulp he took, the sheer regretful expression on his face whenever the two of you locked eyes, and you wondered if somehow, maybe, he wasn’t so confident in his relationship. 

It couldn’t have been. It was just your jealousy talking deep in your subconscious, giving you false hope. You’ve been down that road before, being fed up lies by your own mind and tricked by your heart. You did not need that again, and certainly not when Frankie was engaged.

You had to be on your best behavior. The two of you were no longer friends, but merely old acquaintances, so you shouldn’t have had an issue with giving him the cold shoulder. The farther he was from you, the better. Even if you had foolishly agreed to go to the Valentine’s Day bash that Will and Benny were throwing, that didn’t mean you could act reckless. 

So you came up with a plan.

“Good news, your girl finished her presentation early, which means I am available for some weekend fun,” Rose’s confident voice giggles over the phone.

It’s a little over eleven p.m., and you’re already half asleep in your bed, but as luck would have it, Rose’s timing is impeccable. 

“Congratulations,” you say, genuinely impressed by her work ethic. “At least one of us was professional today.”

“Uh-oh. I take it dinner was awkward last night?”

“Frankie came with his fiancé.”

Silence. You can hear Rose’s jaw drop and her steady breaths. If you listen closely enough, you can hear her processing what you just told her.

“They both came?” she asks.

“Yeah. It was dinner with friends and their significant others, of course he would’ve brought his fiancé. It was stupid of me to think he wouldn’t.”

“Still, I can’t imagine it was pleasant to just have her in your face like that.”

“She’s actually pretty awesome.”

“What?!”

Rose’s indignation actually steals a chuckle out of you, for which you are thankful.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” she continues.

You scoff. “I’m serious! She’s an incredible, accomplished woman.”

“I don’t care, that is the enemy!”

“She’s really not. If anything, Frankie is. He’s the one who fucked it all up.”

“Fair point. What’s so incredible about this woman, anyway?”

“Well, her name’s Andrea and she’s a dermatologist, she regularly volunteers for different charities, she’s hilarious and sweet… oh, and she’s unfairly gorgeous.”

“How gorgeous are we talking here?”

“Green eyes, light brown hair with cute bangs, caramel skin… and she smells great.”

“Shit, that does sound great.”

“So you see my problem.”

“I do. But I can hate her.”

“What—Rose, you don’t even know her.”

“When has that ever stopped us? We’ve hated people for no reason before.”

“Yes, but those were celebrities. And it was usually because they either had something we don’t have, or because we just didn’t like them.”

“Hello! How is this any different?”

You chuckle again, your chest growing heavier with concern regarding tomorrow’s plans.

“Hey, listen, since you’re free this weekend,” you start, “how do you feel about spending Valentine’s Day with me tomorrow?”

“Uh… okay, I really appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not sure what kind of message did I send to you before.”

You both laugh. “Will and Ben are throwing this little Valentine’s get-together between friends—and their girlfriends too, I guess—and I could really use a friendly shoulder there.”

“Hmm. So everyone’s gonna be happily nuzzling next to their significant others?”

“All, except me and Frankie. Andrea can’t come apparently.”

“Gotta say, I’m a little relieved, I thought I was going to have to show some PDA in order to be able to stay.”

You laugh some more, eagerly anticipating her response.

“Won’t it be awkward?” Rose asks.

“Possibly. Every interaction I’ve had so far has been more or less so. Please, you gotta come with me.”

“I will, I will. Just gotta stop by at my grandma’s first to check in on her.”

“How is she doing after the hip replacement surgery?”

“Pretty good. More mobile each day.”

“Oh, that’s great!”

“Yeah. But after that, I’m totally gonna be there for you.”

“Good. Cause I’m your best friend, and you have to help a friend in need.”

“True.”

“Also, Santi will be there.”

You can tell that has Rose’s attention. Hell, even you smile. You’ve been hoping for a long time that she and Santiago would act upon their feelings, but clearly they both had been shy to initiate.

“I was gonna come anyway, just to clarify,” Rose pushes, to which you smirk.

“Mhm.”

“This is just… an added bonus.”

“Of course it is. I’ll see you tomorrow then, at the Millers?”

“You got it. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. Oh, and thank you, Rose. I love you.”

“You don’t have a thing to thank me for. I love you too.”

Knowing that Rose will be there makes it easier for you to fall asleep, and to navigate through next day’s tasks. You wake up pretty early in order to go your grocery shopping, your cleaning and your cooking, and when the clock strikes five p.m., you are in your bathroom, showering and putting a little makeup on.

It’s not a party, you keep reminding yourself of Will’s words. So you don’t overdress, and you don’t overdo it with makeup. Just something cute and casual for a night out with your friends.

And their girlfriends. And, with Rose there, probably making heart eyes at Santiago, that means it’ll be just you and Frankie.

Okay, so maybe your plan wasn’t so well thought. Maybe you could back out of going. Who would really care, on Valentine’s, no less?

Oh, but they would. You knew the guys, you knew your friends, and you knew how relentless they could be about group hangouts and such. You knew they would bother you consistently, bombard you with questions about why you were a no-show at the very last moment.

Honestly, the idea of free drinks kept you motivated enough. In the event of Rose disappearing somewhere to snuggle with Santi, you’d have your trusted companions, the beers.

But you refuse to show up empty handed, so you carry with you a big plate of sandwiches and a bottle of wine. You put in the location on the GPS and drive through the snowed streets.

You’ve been to Will’s and Benny’s plenty of times, but you felt safer having the address right there in front of you, especially on an icy evening like that. Even on a tender day such as Valentine’s Day, February knows how to remind you of its cold, cold wrath.

Standing on the doorstep of the Millers’ humble bungalow merely twenty minutes later, your warmest clothes prove nothing on that bitter evening. You rang the doorbell once and are now anxiously waiting for either Will or Benny to let you in.

Soon, waiting becomes a daunting task. But not only because of the bitter wind chills.

Will and Benny are hosting this party—scratch that. A get-together. Friendly faces, and yet all of them seem to belong to mere ghosts of your past. For them, Valentine’s Day didn’t need the frills and ties, but rather friends and stiff drinks. Plus, they had their wonderful girlfriends by their side, so even the most mundane tasks could be deemed as romantic and well-thought. Will reassured you it would be a smaller gathering, just the lonely ones and the dorks who actually managed to score someone. Still, the sight of the cramped cars in the driveway spiked your anxiety when the GPS told you “arrived at your destination”. But you prevailed, and marched to the front door nonetheless. You had made a promise, after all. 

Hurry up, guys, your mind begs, huffing into your hands to keep you warm. Finally, you see a familiar face grinning from the door window. Not Will, rather Benny. Your eyes soften, eagerly pushing your way in, even as Benny already starts fussing over how long you waited.

“It’s fine,” you tell him sincerely.

“I shouted at Will to open the door a dozen times,” he seemingly apologizes. “I had the glasses in my hand, but no, I gotta do all the work. So much for big bro duties. Here, let me take that.”

You chuckle as Benny takes the plate and bottle of wine from your hand, and you take a look around. You were swathed in warmth as soon as you crossed the threshold into the home. Something about being inside made you relax much more. It could be the coziness of the two-story living, where every room in the house bled into each other. Or it could be that the furniture choices were plump and rosy leather adorned in animal themed blankets, tapestries and cushions. In the living room, MTV is playing on the television, the soft drones of Robert Smith from The Cure filling you with the melancholy you had come to associate with the holiday.

From the couch, Will greets you, inviting you to sit as you hand your jacket off to Benny. Will and Mia are sitting over at one of the two olive couches that surround the fireplace. Benny has no problem plopping himself next to his brother and his girlfriend, the latter having his own significant other join in, but you decide to pick the couch across from them, the one closest to the kitchen. Not just because it might be useful should you require more drinks, but also because you think five’s a crowd, and couples need their intimacy.

The light in the kitchen is on and you can see two shadows bouncing across the walls. They are talking about something, but you can’t pick up on any of it, not when you have Will and Mia’s conversation ringing in the other ear. Although, you still can’t help but stare at the shapes.

One looks stocky, and seems to be the one making the most noise out of them. But the other. The other has a cap on, larger arms, a deeper voice, dripping with age like a fine wine. He and Benny are the youngest among the boys, but his voice is coarse and thick with plenty of emotions that still have a grip over you.

You shake your head briefly, forcing yourself to smile and even giggle at the excited voices in front of you. It’s a favorable situation rather than staring at Frankie the whole time, which you swore you wouldn’t do, no matter what.

You fleetingly check your watch, wondering when Rose will get there. You grow to hate this feeling of helplessness when it comes to being around Frankie. It’s not that you are not strong, quite the opposite: you are more than capable of being cold and distant, but gazing over at him, looking and longing at the same time? A whole other story.

You’re not quite sure what it is about Frankie that still has you in a chokehold. Actually, you do know, you just like denying it, especially now given the circumstances. In every way, Frankie is the embodiment of your dream partner. He’s kind, funny, sweet, smart, protective, and just overall a warm person that once made you feel like you were truly yourself, and not just playing a game.

After all this time, your feelings for him have not vanished as you had hoped. You foolishly thought distance would help you forget, but now that you have been thrust back into your old life, you see things are no different than when you left.

At least in that regard.

Looking at Will and Benny happily sharing with you stories of their adventures with the girls, you sport a sincere smile. You have never seen them so fulfilled, so blissful, and it makes your heart tremble with joy. Yet there is a permanent ache in your heart that you cannot deny, one you doubt anyone would fully understand.

“Hey, you’re here!” Santiago says, pulling you in to hug you tight.

You reciprocate, eyes landing on Frankie’s figure in the background. He seems apologetic, averting your gaze as much as he can, as if he’s guilty of something. Deep down, you do understand his reaction and, oddly enough, you are thankful that he’s not pushing the note in any way.

“I heard Emily made heart shaped cookies, and you know I’m a sucker for cookies,” you joke.

“You have to try them, they are out of this world,” Mia fortifies.

You all chuckle, and you do in fact stretch your arm towards the coffee table in the middle to grab one of the cookies on the plate and take a bite out of it, instantly melting.

“Oh my God,” you nearly shout, immediately taking another bite. “These are heavenly!”

“Thank you!” Emily smiles, her cheeks now flushed. “I don’t make them that often though.”

“I can see why! It’s tough to stay away from them, shit.”

You finish the cookie and grab another one, causing everyone to giggle.

“It’s also why I told her to never, under any circumstances, share the recipe,” Benny adds. “This is cause for fight.”

“It sure is,” Will says.

You don’t realize you’re still in Santiago’s arms; when you do realize that, you inch away in the slightest, right under Frankie’s studious eyes. Curiosity has him by the throat, yet he can’t bring himself to ask you or Santiago any questions. He’s not sure he wants to know.

“Hi,” you finally greet Frankie, voice small and anxious.

“Hi,” he replies.

You’re tired of this; you are so tired of walking around on eggshells, measuring your words and actions and trying to stay away while also wanting to be part of the group again. It’s absolutely exhausting.

“You want something to drink?” Santiago offers, and you nod.

Frankie’s eyes don’t leave the two of you, silently studying you from the corner of his eye. He watches you go into the kitchen, exchange some words as Santiago opens up a beer bottle and hands it to you, and then he sees you lightly touching his arm.

He doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to know. It’s none of his business. He has no right asking or even caring anymore.

Then why does his chest ache so? Why does it feel like there’s a beast trapped inside of him that roars and scratches violently at the simplest of sights?

He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

“Okay, so,” Will announces, standing up now that you and Santiago return to the living room. “Now that we are all here.”

“Actually, Rose should be here any minute,” Santiago intervene.

“Oh. That’s okay, we can wait then.”

“What’s going on, guys?” you ask.

Will and Benny exchange a glare, as well as Mia and Emily, and you instantly know both couples have news. The options are limited, although you can pretty much figure out what’s going on before it’s even said.

And before you know it, you’re halfway through the beer bottle, wishing you had called a cab instead of driving to the bungalow.

“Well, uh… Mia and I are engaged,” Will says, reaching to grab his now fiancé’s hand.

It’s then that you notice the ring on Mia’s finger, shining as brightly as her eyes when she looks at Will. Laudatory exclaims burst among you all, and you’re quick to finish your beer before hugging Mia and then Will. Your heart swells and trembles with even more happiness, admiring them as Santiago and Frankie congratulate their friend.

“Benny has some news too,” Will chuckles.

All eyes turn to Benny, who instead looks over at Emily. Her cheeks burn auburn still, indicating nervousness and flattery.

“We’re moving in together,” she says.

More congratulations are being shared, the entire group hugging the other happy couple. You don’t think you could be any happier than you are at this very moment.

Or lonelier.

What a fascinating mixture, that of delight for your friends and loneliness for yourself. Contradictory, opposing poles, yet equally true.

You don’t let it show, though. Tonight it’s cause for celebration, and you are too focused on your friends’ fulfilled lives to allow any negative emotion impact it.

Although you can’t help but think that your steps are guided by some sort of negative emotion when you find yourself into the kitchen, grabbing another beer to toast to your friends.

“To Will and Benny, finally committed and off of our hands,” Santiago toasts, and you all laugh. “Girls, best of luck.”

“Here, here!”

You feel your phone buzzing in your pocket, and you swiftly notice a text from Rose: “Be there soon, max one hour. Sorry for the delay!” You don’t know why, but your stomach drops. Rose will be there soon, why do you feel so disarmed and hopeless? It doesn’t make much sense, and you don’t try to dig deeper. Not tonight.

You’re feeling a bit of a mess, so the best you can do is smile and nod along, drinking cheerfully along your very joyful and gratified friends. You look at them all, admiring and holding out hope for all of them, so much so that you forget about yourself momentarily. Just for one moment, you forget about the confusing mixture of feelings and how it fucks you up in this very moment.

So Will is engaged, Benny’s getting his own place with his girlfriend, and Frankie is engaged. That leaves you and Santiago as the lonely bachelors in the group.

Except Santiago’s smitten with Rose, and vice versa, and you have a feeling those two will end up together. Which means, when that’ll inevitably happen, it will be just you. Stuck in the same cycle, no matter how hard you have tried to run away from it or tell yourself you changed.

Definitely should’ve taken a cab. Tonight requires a whole lot more drinking.

Music starts blasting in the speakers, with the two happy couples and Frankie settling for an excited talk regarding the upcoming nuptials and move-in. You settle in the kitchen, taking a seat and sipping from your beer while your eyes remain on the five people on the couch. There is an odd sense of melancholy washing over you, like you are an intruder in all of those people’s lives, and that they’d be much happier without you. Like their lives would also be easier without you.

“Hey,” Santiago’s voice brings you back to earth. “You okay?”

He takes the seat next to you, nudging you with his shoulder. “Yeah,” you reply flatly, voice a little shaky, too. “So many good news tonight already, it’s… a lot.”

“I’m pretty surprised myself. More by Benny, not Will. Will’s got this commitment thing covered. Benny, on the other hand…”

You chuckle, staring at the bottom of the beer that’s dangerously close now. “But look at him now. A grown man, our Benny.”

“They’re all moving on, building their lives.”

“Yep.”

“Guess it’s just you and me now. The last two bachelors of the group.”

You purse your lips together, staring at him in a haze. “Maybe you and I should’ve given this a proper go.”

Santiago smirks, eyeing you up and down.

“Is that so?” he smiles.

“We might’ve actually had a real shot a while back.”

“At the very least we could’ve followed through with that little moment in the car.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“One complete and good memory from back then.”

You nod, reminiscing of the time when you returned to town for a few weeks, a couple of years back, and decided to try something new. You thought it was the right thing to do, but the short-lived romance proved otherwise for you both.

“Or we might’ve screwed things up completely,” you say.

“Or that.”

“I mean, look at me and Frankie. One wrong move and it’s all fucked up.”

You sigh deeply, your head now resting in the crook of Santiago’s neck. He smells of cologne and forest, fresh and… uncomplicated. His arm wraps around you, pulling you in closer.

All under Frankie’s eyes.

He can’t stop staring at the two of you, so close and intimate in the kitchen, and his mind starts to wonder, to fabricate little scenarios that make the room spin around him. It all comes crashing down on him when he starts to acknowledge the fact that you and Santiago make perfect sense.

“You good there, Fish?” Benny asks, hand on his shoulder.

“Hm?”

He’s blatantly staring and he didn’t even realize it till then. Now, his gaze returns upon those in the living room.

“You good?” Benny repeats the question.

“I’m good, yeah,” he replies.

“Cause… you were staring.”

“I was just… curious.”

Mia and Emily look over to the kitchen as well, then back at Frankie. “Oh, those two?” Mia chuckles. “Yeah, we’re curious, too.”

Frankie, instead, frowns.

“They’ve gotten very close in the past few years,” Will admits. “Not sure to what extent, but they sure are close.”

“I for one think that if there is something going on, we should give them some space,” Emily says. “Friends dating… it can be tricky to navigate. Let’s leave them alone in the meantime.”

Frankie gulps, finishing his beer, eager for another one. He stands up, heads to the kitchen, where he locks eyes with you and Santiago. The two of you separate, staring at him, but Frankie doesn’t say a word. He just reaches in the fridge for another beer, opens it and walks away, right outside into the cold.

He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. He definitely shouldn’t care.

“What’s with him?” you ask.

“I have no idea.  Maybe it’s the stress of planning a wedding.”

“Right.”

The doorbell is heard, turning towards Santiago with a smile. “That’s Rose.”

You see him take a deep breath, his mind clearly racing just as much as his heart, and you know he’s overthinking the moment. You have the same look on your face when you do it.

“Go,” you nearly push him off the chair. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m going, okay? I don’t wanna seem too eager.”

“You’re reeking of neediness already. Go.”

When you’re alone in the kitchen, you have the nerve to finish the beer, then raiding for another one. You’re probably going to regret this, but you need something to take the edge off.

You spy into the living room, noticing Santiago and Rose emerged into a conversation filled with shy smiles and flushed cheeks, and you smile. God, I hope this works between them. They’re too good for each other to not make this work.

But life sometimes has a funny and cruel way of pulling two perfect people apart from each other. You’ve experienced it firsthand, and you’d hate seeing this happen to two of the dearest people in your life.

You keep hearing music, and after a while, those in the living room start dancing with each other and you take that as your cue to leave. You feel like an extra there, just looking at the happy couples giggling and talking to each other.

Before you know it, you find yourself outside, slowly inhaling the cold air. You’re a bit tipsy, so this is just what you need to remain grounded in the present. A present where you’re basically left behind, alone, just you and the professional ladder you are desperately trying to climb in order to feel like you are achieving something.

By all means, you are happy. You have a great new job, great life, health… everything is good. So there is no reason for you to be feeling like this, is there?

“It’s freezing, you should get back inside,” a voice shouts.

You come to realize that it’s Frankie. He’s on the porch, few inches away, barely staring at you.

“Could tell you the same thing,” you say.

“I happen to be okay with the cold. I know you hate it.”

You tsk, hating how much he still knows about you. You stare into the far off distance, beer in hand. Luckily the alcohol keeps you a little warm, so you don’t really care about the freezing temperatures right now.

“Needed some air,” you say.

“Aka a break from all the happy inside.”

“I didn’t say—“

“You didn’t have to.”

“Would you just—knock it off?”

It is now that you turn to meet his gaze, fury radiating from your eyes. He can feel it, too; you see it in his body language, the way he’s trying to make himself seem smaller next to you. But he doesn’t avert his eyes. Instead, he seems to be staring right at you, with a certain darkness in his eyes that you fail to recognize.

“Look, I’m tired of this, Frankie,” you surrender. “I am sick and tired of trying my hardest to be distant and keep you at bay… and I’m sorry I’m acting like a bitch. I am not, I’m really not.”

“I know you’re not. You got every right to act this way, though.”

You chuckle. “Well, at least you understand what the situation is.”

“Of course I do. I’m not an idiot, okay? I know this is… fucked up and hurtful and messy… but I miss you.”

The moment he says that, your heart begins to race like crazy.

“As a—friend,” he clarifies, gulping.

“I want us to function normally too, like we used to, but I don’t know if it’s possible, Frankie. I gotta respect you and Andrea’s relationship, and… a single woman is not to be around a committed guy.”

Frankie scoffs, finishing his beer and putting the empty bottle on the porch, half in snow. “Single? Really?”

“Yes, really. Why?”

He falters, trips over his own thoughts, and he keeps quiet. It’s his best play at this very moment.

“I missed you too,” you confess shyly, in an almost non-existent voice.

But he hears it. He hears and sees you crystal clear, burning and aching with his whole body. He should not be feeling this way. He should not be surprised that you’d be interested in Santiago. He should not be upset by it, nor should he be feeling this way around you. It’s not okay. It’s not normal to burn this much for someone.

And yet here he is, secretly doing it anyway, and shoving it deep down with every ounce of strength imaginable.

You sneak a peek through the window, noticing Rose still talking to Santiago, seemingly laughing out loud, and your heart quickly swells and then deflates. When you finish your beer, you find Frankie to stand much closer to you, cutting out the air from your lungs. You barely feel the cold anymore, even if your fingers turn purple and your face is red with something you can’t quite discern.

“I’m really sorry that I let you go,” he mutters. “I was a dick. Pope reminds me once or twice a year.”

You actually chuckle. “Good.”

“He’s a great friend.”

“That he is.”

“And you guys seem to be very close. Kind of like…”

“We used to be?”

He nods. When your eyes meet and neither shies away, it’s electric. It’s a rush, a moment filled with unspoken emotion. You want to look away, you know this should not be happening, and yet you can’t look away. It’s years of deprivation, missing him and missing the two of you, but you just don’t want to look away from him.

You just want to look at him, admire him for the man that he’s turned into. Nothing more.

“I missed you,” he repeats, his voice almost like he’s begging. “So much.”

You don’t reply. You can’t really focus; your mind is foggy, clouded by all sorts of emotions tonight, and you know you should back off, act with respect. Because, at the end of the day, you do respect Frankie and his relationship with Andrea, and you respect Andrea just as much.

Every cell in your body screams at you to just back off, go back inside to your friends and celebrate alongside them. You swear you moved your feet in the desired direction. You start to feel warm again, warm all over, particularly your face.

Seconds later, you realize that is because there is warm breath all over your face, and your lips become swollen, reddened with a foreign, yet familiar and much needed touch.

Another few seconds later and you realize that Frankie’s lips are on yours, and his hand cups your cheek, pulling you in.

The worst of it is, you kiss him back. You kiss him back till you’re running out of air and Frankie’s breath is the sole source of air that you have. You kiss him back till you become fully aware of the implications, and then, before you can pull away, Frankie does it first.

He pulls away from you, his lips just as swollen and red as yours, and he stares at you in shock. Truthfully, you’re just as shocked, unable to utter a single word.

“I’m so sorry,” he coos, looking around in disbelief. “I am… so sorry. I shouldn’t have… I should go.”

You still don’t say anything. You simply stare at him, incapable to remove the feeling of his soft lips pressed hastily on yours.

He’s slowly backing away from you, eyes locked with yours, as he keeps muttering “I should go”. So he goes, leaving you half frozen on the porch, with a taste on your lips that nothing would ever wash away.

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[pilothusband]

fly me to the moon

Rating: M-ish (a lil spicy at the end)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Swearing, boner mention, a douchebag, a little hint at food shaming

Word count: 2.5k

Description: You go on a date with a complete asshole. He takes you on a helicopter tour, not expecting the pilot to be the one to sweep you off your feet.

Author’s note: Probably should have edited this more but meh. This was completely self-indulgent. Unbeta’d. Let me know what you think!

gif by @pedroispunk

Why did I agree to go out with this jackass in the first place?

Your eyes were starting to feel sore with the amount of times you had rolled them throughout your date. He hadn’t noticed the exasperated movement of your eyes, too swept up in talking about the summer he spent in Ibiza with his former fraternity brothers, his medium rare, overpriced ribeye untouched.

So far, everything had felt off. The way he pulled up outside of your apartment and honked his horn to signal his arrival, the anchor cufflinks in his freshly pressed suit, paired with a pair of leather boat shoes and a salmon-pink button down. You loved a man in pink, but the rest of the outfit just felt like it didn’t fit together. Was he going to a wedding or going to party on a yacht? You had glanced down at your own outfit, a simple black dress that stopped mid-calf and hung loose, just barely hinting at your curves.

God, you hoped he wasn’t going to take you on a boat.

You had only agreed to this date in the first place because Liam, an investment banker who worked in your office building in the suite below yours, had asked you nearly every day for a month in a row. He was persistent, kind of like a mosquito, but you figured you were being too picky and needed to expand your horizons a bit. Maybe you would learn more about him and actually have a good time.

Not so much.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his brows knit together when you had ordered the fettuccine alfredo. The restaurant’s menu was pretty limited, and you didn’t recognize most of the items. This place was just too fancy for your comfort. You had wanted to call the waiter back to the table and change your order to a cheeseburger, just to embarrass him further.

As Liam droned on about how his father had taught him how to manage his finances, you let your mind wander to last weekend. You had gone out with your friends, Benny and Will, a pair of brothers who were each other’s polar opposites, yet they had a bond that was stronger than any other siblings you had ever met.

You were already well acquainted with their other friends, Santiago and Frankie, affectionately known as Pope and Catfish. Pope had a magnetic personality– he commanded the room without meaning to, sometimes to the detriment of others around him, who were trying to get a word in edgewise. 

Frankie was complicated. He was quiet, a little rough around the edges, and a little gruff, but so soft at the same time. His eyes gave way to a deeply settled kind of hurt. They had drawn you in almost right away. It only took one glance at his smile, brilliant and boyish, with a hint of a dimple gracing his cheek, before you were hooked.

You had only known him for a few months now and only saw him when the guys got together, but you couldn’t deny the desire that clutched at your stomach whenever his deep brown eyes met yours.

You heard your date call your name, snapping you out of your daydream.

“You ready for part two of the best date ever?” Liam asked. His smirk was all wrong. It wasn’t soft or playful. It was polished and practiced. He reminded you too much of Patrick Bateman.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you said, pasting a smile onto your face, inwardly wincing at how fake it was. You could not wait to go home and put on your sweatpants.

Shit. Holy shit.

He was taking you on a helicopter tour. The same company that Catfish worked for. Your stomach was in knots, threatening an unwelcome return of the alfredo you had for lunch.

Maybe he’s not working today, maybe we’ll get a different pil–

Of course you had no such luck. The guide ushered you both over towards the launching pad, where Frankie stood, wearing a tan flight suit. His hair was tousled, likely from being up in the air for most of the day and he had a pair of aviators on. He looked delectable.

His eyebrows shot up in recognition. He cocked his head to the side, glancing at your date, then back at you, a grimace set on his face.

Frankie schooled his expression and walked up and gave you a side hug, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently.

“Good to see you,” he said, giving you a small grin.

“You two know each other?” Liam asked, his eyes shifting between the two of you.

“Oh, yes, Liam– this is Frankie. He’s one of my friends.” 

Friends.

“Nice to meet you, Liam,” Frankie said, shaking his hand politely.

Liam gave Frankie one of his wide, practiced grins. “Likewise.”

You could have sworn you saw Liam wince a little during the handshake, but you chalked it up to pre-flight jitters. Liam slung an arm around your shoulder possessively and chuckled.

“Excited to show this pretty lady some pretty sights.” His fingers curled into your shoulder, a little too hard, and he jostled you a little, trying to come off as a cute gesture. It had you feeling like a rag doll. 

The smile you gave him must have been pretty forced, because Frankie coughed, interrupting the moment.

“All right, folks. Ready to get going?” 

You nodded, feeling a fluttering in your belly. Despite not wanting to be stuck in a helicopter with Liam, you were excited to finally see Frankie in action.

Frankie handed you both a pair of headsets and instructed you to buckle up. Before climbing in himself, he checked Liam’s belt, tightening it a little and then came over to your side, adjusting your belt as well. You risked a peek at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. 

“All set,” he murmured, giving you a soft smile.

Before you knew it, Frankie was in the pilot’s seat and the helicopter roared to life. The blades were whirring above your heads, making your hair whip around your face. You tucked the sides of your dress under your legs, silently cursing Liam for not warning you of this afternoon’s non-dress appropriate activity.

The swoop you felt in your stomach was unlike anything you had felt before, more intense than a commercial flight. You tried not to fidget, knowing you were in good hands with Frankie piloting, but fuck, were you already high up, and only climbing higher by the second.

You briefly wondered how high up you were now, how high up Frankie had ever flown. You planned on asking him once you were all safely back on the ground.

A large gust of wind made its way into the helicopter, forcing a shiver down your spine, goosebumps rising on your woefully unprotected arms.

“You cold, sweetie?” Liam asked. “I would give you my jacket but I need it to stay warm. You should have planned better, gorgeous.”

You instantly clenched your teeth, wishing murder was legal at this very moment.

“Well, Liam, I would have brought a jacket if you had told me we were coming here,” you said, voice dripping with a sarcastic, syrupy sweet tone.

“I have a jacket in the compartment in front of you,” Frankie said, glancing over quickly. “Go ahead and put it on.”

You obliged, opening the compartment and bundling up in the oversized jacket, instantly feeling better once the corduroy material covered your arms. You wrapped it around your torso and took a deep breath, hiding your grin in the sherpa collar. It smelled like him.

“Thank you, ‘Fish,” you said softly. He didn’t respond, but you saw his dimple appear out of the corner of your eye.

“All good back there?” You heard Frankie’s voice in your ears. You looked over to him, only catching a glimpse of his hands and the side of his face, partially obscured by his headset and his baseball cap.

“Doing fan-tas-tic, Frank,” Liam whooped. You couldn’t help but wince at how loud his voice was, and how he intentionally pronounced Frankie’s name incorrectly.

“Great,” Frankie sounded unamused.

You huffed, annoyed at your date’s bad manners and looked out the window. Terrible date aside, you had to admit the bay from above was absolutely gorgeous. You looked down at the ocean, so expansive and eternally blue. Your eyes skimmed over to where water met land, at the soft sand on the beach, turning into a thick forest.

“Frankie, it’s beautiful,” you gasped.

You looked over at him briefly, seeing a hint of a smile on his face.

Liam was momentarily forgotten, until his hand snaked its way onto your thigh, giving it a little squeeze. Instinctually, you moved your leg at the unwanted contact. Liam looked over at you, an ugly scowl marring his face.

“Careful with the turns in this thing,” he said, addressing Frankie. “Our girl here ate about 15 pounds of pasta before this.”

You felt a hot wave of embarrassment wash over you, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. They streaked down into your hairline from the force of the wind around you. You had already realized Liam was a bit of a douche, but you hadn’t thought him to be cruel.

“The only thing we have to worry about bringing this thing down is that big head of yours,” Frankie quipped back.

Biting back a laugh, you looked out the window so Liam wouldn’t see your reaction.

You could tell Liam wanted to argue back, but he stayed quiet, since the man he wanted to lash out at was responsible for keeping you all alive at the moment.

The rest of the ride was pretty quiet, other than the persistent chopping of the helicopter blades. The views were beautiful, but you found your eyes wandering back over to Frankie every few minutes. The tanned skin of his hands as he deftly worked at the throttle. Every time he pulled on a control you saw the veins in his forearms strain with the movement. You wondered what else those hands could do.

Before you knew it, the bird touched down and you unbuckled your seatbelt, removing the tight headset from your ears. You had a slight headache and you could tell getting down was going to be a struggle.

Frankie seemed to have no issue, jumping out of his seat with grace and walking over to your side to help you down. Your legs were shaking, so you stumbled as your feet hit the ground, grabbing onto his broad shoulders for dear life.

“I– oof, sorry,” you laughed nervously, rubbing your nose. You had bumped into his chest nearly smashing your face into his sternum. Frankie bit his lip and chuckled in response, squeezing your waist. You felt dizzy with his arms caging you in like this. It gave you an overwhelming desire to wrap yourself around him, to feel him pressed against you.

“It’s okay, I got you.” His voice rumbled in your ear, absolutely sending your senses on a tailspin. His strong, quiet voice was doing something magical to your already weak knees.

You stepped away before you fell over, remembering your date after a moment. He was about ten feet away, arms crossed, his face pinched in an angry expression.

“I don’t think this is working out,” he said as you walked over to him.

“I couldn’t agree more,” you said, giving him a sickly sweet grin. “I’ll find another ride home.”

Liam scoffed and made his way back into the tour center to grab his belongings. You instantly felt a weight lift off your shoulders. Thank God he left.

“So, why did you go out with that asshole, anyways?” Frankie asked, a bewildered expression on his face.

You sighed, feeling embarrassed.

“I honestly don’t know. He wouldn’t leave me alone so I decided to give him a shot.”

“I can’t say I blame him for being persistent, but seriously, fuck that guy.”

You huffed a laugh. 

“Seriously, when he made that comment about what you ate for lunch I wanted to throw him right out of the helicopter.”

You bit your lip and sniffed, feeling the embarrassment wash over you at the memory.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” your voice was small and you rubbed at your arms nervously.

Frankie had a hard, angry look on his face. It made you feel a little giddy, that he was so angry on your behalf.

“He should have never talked to you that way. He’s lucky you agreed to go out with his sorry ass.”

“You’re right. And God, I can’t believe he took me here, of all places,” you laughed. This really was surreal.

“Feels kind of like fate, huh?” He said, giving you a boyish grin.

“How so?”

“Well,” he stepped towards you, arms sliding up the material of his jacket. “I’ve always wanted to see you in this jacket.” His gaze made its way down your figure. His eyes were dark as he swallowed heavily.

“And I’ve always wanted to go on a date with you, though not while you’re on one with another man.” The smile he gave you was shy, searching, as if he wasn’t sure how you’d react.

“Well, I won’t be making that mistake again,” you replied, stepping closer. 

Your tongue came out to wet your lips and Frankie watched with rapture. 

“I’d like to kiss you now, if that’s okay.” His mouth was an inch from yours, and his large, calloused hands cradled your face gently.

“Please, Frankie,” you sighed.

His lips were soft, despite the bruising urgency in his actions. Your hands immediately tangled into his hair, knocking the cap off his head. You melted against him and licked his bottom lip, asking for permission. He immediately complied, licking into your mouth. Your tongues found a delicious rhythm, tangling together. You moaned into his mouth, spurring him on further. His hips pressed into yours. You could feel how hard he was, even through his flight suit.

“Fuck, baby” he rasped, pulling away. His chest was heaving, breath ragged from your kiss. “The things I want to do to you.”

You slanted your hips back into his, pressing into his erection. “Then do them.”

Frankie bit his lip and groaned, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re absolutely perfect for me, you know that?” 

You grinned, leaning forward to capture his lips again.

“I want to do this right, though,” he said. “I’m going to take you out on a better date. Show you how first dates should go. And then I’m going to take you home and show you how much I’ve wanted you for months.”

You felt as if your heart had stopped momentarily.

“That sounds perfect to me,” you said, kissing him again.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo​ @recklessworry @wyn-dixie​ @manalg14​ @codenamewife @comphersjost​ @princessxkenobi​

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #tw food mention

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

The Only Living Thing

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: Language.

Synopsis: You’ve been friends with BIlly Russo for as long as you can remember. Then, on that one night in New York, feelings get mixed up with the liquor that burns and everything spins out of control. So much for being the only living thing that Billy Russo has ever cared about... Or is it?  A/N: This just sort of happened. I may be writing more if you guys want, I think I can definitely take this further? I have a pretty hectic schedule but I might make it happen x

Song : Adam French - The Only Living Thing

New York, November 2019. 
 

Breathtaking. 


You are breathtaking, like the most beautiful view from atop the mountain or his biggest fear coming alive under his stare. 
 You’re a mix of excitement and terror, and you are enchanting enough to keep him on the tips of his toes, second-guessing everything, his every decision and every word... 

You are meant to leave him wanting more.

The night New York has never looked so good on a woman before.

Billy’s vision goes blurry for a second, his stomach hot and heavy.

You are glowing.

You radiate a kind of a warm sepia glow, so beautiful and genuine and so fucking effortlessy...

Smooth and unapologetic.
 


Messy strands of hair framing your face, your blushing cheeks, as you laugh your heart out, throwing your head back. Your pearl teeth flash in the dimness of the bar. Your thin black tights are torn at the thighs, your lips are red and irritated as you sink your teeth in, again and again.

Your laugh is flamboyant, intoxicating. Raw.

You are something else...

When suddenly, you see him, your black eyelashes fluttering as you wink at him. Billy’s chest feels too wide, too fragile and too hot. Do you see those unspoken words shining out of his drunken eyes?

When you make your way to him through the crowd, he’s paralyzed, afraid to move forward, afraid to scare you off, but mostly, afraid to let everyone see how desperate he is for your touch.

This is wrong, so fucking wrong, but why in hell when you come over, throwing your elegant arms around his neck, your cute perky nose touching his chest - it feels so. fucking. right?! Like you were custom-made for each other?...

Before he can stop himself, he slides an arm around your waist. You say something to him, something funny, for everyone around him snorts and chuckles, but his mind, his entire world - suddenly comes down to that spot just below his cheekbone where you plant a soft peck of your velvet pouty lips.

“Those twenty bucks we bet on? I win,” you half laugh, half exhale in his ear, your lips brushing against the lobe. “Madani is fucking obsessed with you”.

“Ah,” Billy smiles, both of his hands snaking around your waist now as he looks down at you.

...And I am fucking obsessed with us.

“And you just enjoy rubbing us - this! in her face right now, aren’t you?” he mutters instead, his temples buzzing with the gin and tonic he has been downing all night. 

God, he hopes you’re too buzzed to have noticed his slip of fucking epic proportions.

He promised himself he wouldn’t drink, not with you still around - because whatever it was that he felt for you mixed with liquid that burned equaled a very bad outcome. 

He might be well into the tipsy territory by now but Billy isn’t delusional. The chances that you would go back to his place or even kiss him back are entirely too slim.

Because friends don’t do friends.

Friends might as well become a new f-word for all Billy cares at this point.

When you throw your head back in an explosive laugh, Billy’s distracted. He gets an extensive view of your elegant neck, your delicate collarbones, but mostly - of the swell of your mouthwatering breasts, as your black silk top tightens over them. 

Fuuuuck him.

“Fuck you, Russo”, you echo his thoughts somehow as you wink at him once you’ve restored your breath, not stepping away from his embrace, however, letting him keep his hands on you. 

It’s always like this between the two of you. You’ve known each other for a while now - four, five years? After Billy bumped into you at a brunch at Liebermans’ and spilled his frappuccino all over your gorgeous rack. He wasn’t even going to come - but boy, was he glad he did - even though you wasted no time opening that sassy mouth of yours and verbally eviscerating him.

This wasn’t a love at first sight. 
 For you, at least.

“At least buy me a dinner first,” Billy barely manages, his vision a tad blurry.

He notices you giving him an unimpressed stare. Feeling stupid all at once, Billy blinks quickly and lets go of your waist...

Only to tremble on his feet and almost fall on his face.

“Heyyy,” he registers your breath on his cheek before he hears what you’re saying, your small hands holding him in place. Your touch burns through the fabric of his button down shirt as your palms slide up his sides to his shoulders. “You okay there, Russo?”

Billy squirms, chomping on his bottom lip as he grabs you by your elbows.

‘’M fine”, he says quietly, but doesn’t let go. When he lowers his stare to meet your eyes, he almost wants to cry. There’s concern in their bottomless depths, worry for him and desire to make it all better. He just wishes there was more heat there, and less of that f-word that ends with -riends.

“You don’t look fine, lover,” you retort, wiggling and pushing and pulling onto him until you’re snug under his arms and carrying his dead weight to the exit. “Let’s go get some fresh air, come on.”

Billy utters something half-heartedly, his head feeling like it’s filled with cotton. He didn’t even drink that much, as least he doesn’t think so. Must be your fucking intoxicating perfume, sweet but voluptuous and so fucking tempting...

Pure sin. 


Even drunk out of his fucking mind, he’s still the envy of every guy at that bar because he’s with a stunning, breathtaking, prettiest woman in the whole damn world that is you.

“If you were able to stand right now, that line might have gotten you laid,” you inform him with a laugh, basically carrying him to the exit on your shoulders.

Through the drunken haze, Billy realises he might have spoken those words out loud, but the terror is quickly replaced by...

“Are you shitting me?” He slurs, trying to stay vertical. “Are you saying you want me?”

By the time the words escape his mouth, you have pushed the exit door wide open and nudged him to step out. Losing his balance, Billy crashes into Frank, Stein and Madani, smoking outside.
 Dina’s eyes flash mischievously as you step out of the bar, immediately throwing your arms around Billy protectively, helping him to steady himself.

“Oh, so it’s common knowledge now, then?” Dina ventures, licking her lips bloodthirstily, her eyes never quitting yours. “You’ve finally admitted you want to drag that fine Caspian ass in your bed?”

The running joke aimed at Billy looking like a Disney prince feels out of place; all conversation is silenced out as you narrow your eyes at Madani, your grip around Billy’s waist instantly becoming tighter. Frank clears his throat in an attempt to defuse the awkwardness, but doesn’t intervene.

And Billy is... well, happy. Over the moon, actually, and still drunk off his ass.

Apparently, you have been wanting to drag his ass into your bed for a while now!

That does mean you see him more than a friend, right? 

What if... What if all this time you were just as hung up on him as he was on you, but neither of you had the balls to say anything?

In his picture perfect drunken world, Madani makes sense and his heart sings.

You want him.

If it were a Disney cartoon, animals would be singing and dancing around praising your couple. 

Frankie would have probably made a sick unicorn.

“Oh Dina”, suddenly your voice cuts right through Billy’s happy fantasy, and there’s way too much sass in that voice for it to belong to a Disney princess. “Just because your friend Sam here and your own desperate fan-girling ass carry a boner for some fucked up teenage fantasy that involves boinking Prince Caspian, doesn’t mean all women have that same one-track mind. Some of us can actually look past a dick and see a friend. So why don’t you lay off that Cosmopolitan and fuck off, vodka-cranberry sure ain’t making you brighter”.

Billy frowns, deep lines creasing his forehead.

Frank snorts with laughter, not even bothering to conceal his reaction. 
 
 You hold Dina’s hateful stare.

“Whatever, bitch” the latter one finally utters, throwing her cigarette away. “I never fucking liked you. Maybe after this your little fanboy here will see you for what you really are - a fucking coward and a tosser”, Billy’s stares at her in disbelief, his mind still foggy. Madani’s dark eyes flash dangerously in his direction. “Of all women, Russo... Karma is a bitch, isn’t she? Your little princess here only loves herself, lover. Get out while you fucking can”.

Smashing her shoulder into yours, Madani goes back into the bar, leaving equally dreary and awkward silence behind.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Frank isn’t laughing anymore as he folds his hands on his chest, giving you a questioning eye. 

You roll your eyes dismissively. 

“Well, she’s obviously shit-faced,” you shrug, sliding your hands off of Billy. “What, you’re surprised she hates me?”

It’s a whole another world there, in Billy’s head. Have you just distanced yourself from him after what Madani said? What, you thought he’s so drunk he wouldn’t fucking notice?

“...so just because I have basic restraint and actually appreciate a man as a friend, I’m a damaged bitch with a twisted sense of humour? Look, I don’t know, Frank”, you rub your eyes tiredly with the back of your hand.

“I do,” Billy suddenly chimes in hoarsely, his eyes bloodshot and dark, darker than usual, as they narrow at you. “Know. I know.” Billy stutters, then takes a deep breath. “That’s all I am to you then, sweetheart? A friend?”

Billy wavers a bit as he speaks, but his words are deadly. Your eyes pop wide open at his words, like Russo has just grown a penis on his forehead. Frank’s mouth forms a silent O.

And just like that, the tension is back.

“Well, of course you are my friend,” you say slowly, stretching out your hand in an attempt to grasp Billy’s wrist. Your eyes are searching his face, but he’s locked, like a goddamn prison cell. “You’re my friend and I love you”.

Wrong answer, if Billy’s expression is anything to judge by as he recoils  from your touch. His face is a mix of disappointment and anger, his lips a thin line as he turns away.

“Fucking idiot,” he mutters under his breath as he turns on his heels and makes a tentative step towards the bar. Only his body is ruled by gin and whatever shit he chased it with, so his feet get mixed up together. Billy trips over his own shoes. 

“Hey, easy there, tiger”, Frank, who’s been standing closer, grips Billy by his arm to help him keep his balance. “What’s gotten into you, man?”

Billy chuckles, throwing his head back, and that has got to be the most bitter sound you have ever heard. You shudder involuntary, watching Russo like a hawk.

“I would have given you the fucking world, you know that?” Billy stares you dead in the eye, grabbing the door handle in front of him. “You just keep fucking with my head like a fucking sadist, and I live by the shit you give me!” you blanch as Billy goes on with the program, hurt dripping from his mouth. “Must have always thought that should be some spectacular pussy you’ve been packing, totally worth all your shit”.

“Bill!” Frank calls him out sharply, his expression terrified. 

But the damage is done. 


Your eyes are brimming with tears, but you stay silent, unblinking. Your chest seems a little caved-in, but you hold your chin high as your trembling lips start to move.

“Fuck you, Russo”, you spit, “Fuck you, friend”.

The next thing he knows, Billy explodes in a fit of bitter laughter - even though all he wants to do is fucking cry.

This just goes to fucking show there’s no such thing as Disney fairytale in real life, is there?

“Oh don’t worry, friend, somebody will,” he promises you, swinging the door to the bar wide open. “Gonna go help Madani fulfil her teenage fantasy. While you can stay here, think about us fucking like rabbits and feel better about yourself”.

With those words thrown over his shoulder, he steps into the crowded bar, the sound of the door shutting behind him sounding final. 

Plot twist. Curtain falls.

Frank can’t even venture a look at you - he doesn’t even hear you breathing.

“He’s just piss off drunk, that’s it. He doesn’t mean it,” Castle attempts to do some damage control, even though he knows that that ship has most definitely sailed.

“Thanks, Frank,” he hears you say quietly, and as he raises his eyes, he catches the sight of you wiping your cheeks quickly.

You inhale slowly, closing your eyes and fisting your hands.

“Tell Karen and the guys I wasn’t feeling so hot, okay?” you ask, and there’s definitely pleading in your voice.

You never plead.

Before Frank can ever mutter anything about Karen having his head if he lets you walk away at night all alone, you wave at him dismissively. 

“I’ll see you”, you say as you collect your hair in a ponytail and walk off, your silhouette soon lost in the bustling New York night.

#billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #billy russo #billy russo angst #the punisher imagine #billy russo imagine #billy russo story #billy russo au #the punisher story #the punisher

[pascalpanic]

Pilot’s Hands (Frankie Morales x f!reader)

Summary: Frankie takes you up flying in his helicopter. You can’t help but focus on those goddamn hands of his.

W/C: 2.4K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), finger penetration/fingering, language, lots of dirty talk and innuendos, please forgive the multiple puns I made, a singular smack to the ass. afab reader. talk of flying in helicopters and being rlly high above the ground. reader is nervous about heights.

A/N: Frankie smut is the best smut. This was requested by @notabotiswear!! I hope it’s what you were feeling, love!

Your hands grip the chair as the helicopter slowly lifts from the ground. There’s an urge deep inside of you to jump from it now, while you’re low, so that nothing can happen, that you can’t be lifted up. You want to scream and shout and rip these headphones from your ears and make it all stop, but you don’t. You grip the seat even harder and squeeze your eyes shut as you feel the pressure in your ears start popping and changing.

The anxiety eases instantly as you look to your left. There sits Frankie, guiding the helicopter. He looks absolutely fucking gorgeous, as usual. Today he wears a warm flannel over a t-shirt with his favorite beer’s logo. On top of his brown waves, which were extra unmanageable this morning, sits his favorite ball cap. He’d spent an unhealthy amount of time picking out just the right outfit today, since it was technically a date.

You smile a little at how focused he is. There are lines of concentration between his two thick eyebrows, his stubbly jaw clenched in concentration. His large hands navigate around the dashboard, controlling the massive machine as it pushes you up into the sky. It’s soothing when he’s the one doing it.

Frankie has always talked to you about his love of flying. It’s something you’ve never quite understood. He talks about it like it’s beyond any other experience. Flying is his happy place. He’s never more content than when he can control the big machine and soar through the sky. You’re the opposite. Flights usually required you to take an anxiety med and pass out. The feeling of being so far above the ground makes you panic and fills your brain with the worst possible scenarios.

There’s something better about it when the man you’d trust with your life- are trusting with your life- is the one piloting the machine. He sneaks you a smile as he notices you staring, but in an instant is back at the controls. You giggle and lean back in your chair, enjoying the view. Frankie’s got you.

The ascent continues. You’re still gripping the sides of the chair with all of the force your hands can create, and the anxiety seeps in. You close your eyes and force yourself to focus on your breathing. Even this high in the air, Frankie is your solid ground. You reach over and grab his thigh, knowing his hands are too busy to hold. Your fingers dig into his leg, but it’s no distraction.

Finally, Frankie slips one hand beneath yours and laces your fingers together. “Open those eyes, baby,” he asks, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “We’re at the cruising altitude.”

Your eyes open and are filled with nothing but blue sky surrounding you. Looking to the sides, you can see your city surrounding the two of you. Everything looks so small. You’re unconsciously beaming, and when you turn to look at Frankie, he’s grinning back. “Cool, right?” He asks with an equally big smile.

“The coolest,” you nod in agreement and laugh. It’s astounding, really.

“Just one second, babe,” he tells you and drops your hands, pressing some buttons and flipping some switches. His hands are skilled, flying across the controls with practiced ease. His voice is smooth and even in tone as he talks to someone in his headset. He continues even as he talks to the controller, reaching over you to hit a far button.

He’s good to just steer now, you can tell, and you wrap both of your arms around one of his. He signs off from the call and looks over at you, then down at the arms on your hands. “You need something to hold onto?” He asks, leaning over and kissing your head briefly.

“You look sexy flying,” you chuckle and slide your hands down to his, holding it happily as you look around. “You’re just… so good at it,” you shrug and look around the cockpit.

He laughs softly. “I wonder how it happened,” he teases, pulling his hand back to he can use it to navigate. “Are you okay? Sure you’re not too anxious?” He asks. His eyes aren’t on you- they can’t afford to be right now, while you’re in the air- but his words are sincere.

You nod, beaming. “I trust the pilot more than I ever have.”

He shakes his head and smiles, adjusting his cap before flipping a few more switches. “You just keep telling me, okay? Let me know if you wanna be done early.”

“I think I can handle thirty minutes in the air, watching you be all cute and smart.”

“Smart? I don’t know about that one, baby,” he shakes his head but smiles down at the gauges he checks.

For a few minutes, it’s silent between the two of you. The hum of the engine and the spinning blades fills the space between you. You’re content to look around while Frankie pilots the two of you, snapping photos. At one point, you sneak a few photos of him, giggling at how cute he looks. You lean over and kiss his jaw through the stubble, which makes him grin and blush slightly. “Babe, I’m working,” he whines, but it’s all teasing, you both know. Frankie loves nothing more than some physical affirmation.

You chat quietly when he has the time to do so, when the machine doesn’t require as much of his attention. He’s fantastically skilled at multitasking, you notice, which makes you smirk a little. He’s so fucking good at what he does, those calloused hands dancing around the dash like a skilled piano player reciting a sonata, like an artist creating a masterpiece. And you suppose, to Frankie, flying is like an art.

“Do you know any tricks?” You ask at one point.

Frankie nods. “I can do barrel rolls and shit. I don’t think you’d want to feel that,” he chuckles, his hand resting on top of yours, which sits on his thigh.

“Oh fuck, not now,” you laugh softly. “But that’s really cool.” And hot, your primal brain, the one that seeks the best mate, tells you.

As the time in the air dwindles down to a stop, Frankie once again has to pay full attention. You return to your previous position: gripping your chair. Your hands aren’t as forceful now, far more trusting of Frankie and his skills. You can even look around as the world grows bigger and bigger as you approach it. Not long after, the helicopter lands, and you let out a deep sigh of relief. “Wow,” you laugh, a little bit of anxiety still in your voice. “Now I can tell you everything that I wanted to say in the air.”

Frankie looks over at you, tilting his head in confusion. “And what was that, exactly?”

“That you look so fucking hot,” you grin at him. “You do, really. You know what the fuck you’re doing, and that’s hot. And your hands, you’re so good with them,” you muse as you pick one up and play with the thick fingers attached.

This time, Frankie’s smiling. “Oh yeah?”

You nod happily. “Mhm. Just look so good when you’re using them. Makes me think of other things they’re good at.”

He’s a little red, but he grins. “Really?”

“You know that. I’m never quiet about how good you are with them, am I?” You tease and laugh.

Frankie’s face tinges with red, and his Adam’s apple bobs hard with a gulp. “Don’t do this to me yet, baby,” he chuckles and shakes his head. He removes your headphones once the blades have stopped rotating, then his own, and unstraps the both of you.

Frankie gets out then helps you down from the chopper. One of the other men who works at the field comes over to say hello, and he snaps a photo of you and Frankie for you.

The picture is perfect: the blue skies in the background contrast the dark metal of Frankie’s helicopter. He has both arms around you, and you have one hand pressed to his chest. You’re both grinning, both wearing flannels and each in one of his ball caps: you stole one this morning before you left his house.

He walks away after you both thank him, and Frankie leans in close. “Gotta get some shit done in the hangar. Won’t be more than ten minutes. Go wait for me in the car, baby girl,” he murmurs in your ear. He gives you a little smack on the ass, which makes you start to scamper off.

You grab his keys from his pocket, then toss a flirty smile over your shoulder as you walk to the parking garage.

-

Twenty minutes later, you’re sitting shotgun in Frankie’s truck. He removes his cap and runs a hand through those curls before putting it back. You watch it, noticing the way the knuckles bend and fold. He looks over at you and notices the expression on your face. “You still thinking about them, baby girl?” He asks with a growing smirk.

You nod, the wetness in your panties growing. “Mhm. Think you could pilot me?”

Frankie rests a hand on your thigh, tracing circles into the skin. “Unzip those jeans for me, baby. Let’s find out.”

You’re in a parking garage, and no one else is around. It’s early on a Saturday morning, but the risk is just as exciting. You do as he says, and Frankie slides his fingers beneath your panties.

The pads of his ring and middle fingers start at the top of your folds, tracing down the damp skin until they reach your entrance. “Fuck,” he groans at how wet you already feel. His fingers swirl around just millimeters inside of you, taking the wetness and removing his hand, bringing it up to your mouth. “Gotta get them ready for me first, honey. You’re already plenty wet, but I wanna make it good for you.”

You oblige and take his fingers in your mouth, sucking on them dutifully and moaning around them. They’re so thick and strong, and the thought makes you spread your legs wider. “Good girl,” Frankie almost growls before bringing his fingers back down to your entrance and slipping them inside of you.

You cry out, your hand gripping the side of your seat once more; this time, it isn’t from anxiety, but from pleasure. They scissor you open slowly, those thick digits reaching deep inside to that spot you can never quite reach with your own. “Ah, fuck,” you whimper as the heel of his palm grinds against your clit. “I was thinking about this the whole time we were flying, Frankie. Your fingers and how good they feel inside me.”

He bites his lip, curling his toes in effort to not get hard right here and now. As much as he loves doing this, loves the risk, this is all the two of you can afford. It’s too late: he’s already got a semi tenting in his jeans.

“Yeah? That’s what you were thinking, dirty girl?” He almost purrs, his voice deep and desperate. “I’m trying to keep us from falling and dying, and all you could think about was how good it feels when I do this?”

As he says this, his fingers curl deep inside you and brush against your g-spot. “Fuck, yeah,” you nod, panting now. You’re sweating, probably through your t-shirt, but you don’t care. It feels too good. One hand of yours grips his wrist, as if it could keep him from pulling away. As if he ever would in the first place.

“Such a good girl, so wet for me,” he groans as he forces himself to stop his hips from bucking into the air, against nothing. “I could do whatever the fuck I wanted to you and you’d let me, couldn’t I?” He murmurs. “You’d even let me fuck you in that helicopter. No anxiety when you got my dick inside you, huh?”

You nod. “You could, yeah,” you groan, your other hand digging into the leather seat. “Anything you want, you got it,” you nod. “Feels so good, anything you do does.”

He smirks. “Maybe I’ll have to try that sometime, huh? Have you keep my cock warm while I fly?”

“Anything,” you repeat breathless, shuddering beneath him. The heel of his palm grinds harder into your clit and it’s all too much. “Frankie, baby, gonna cum, almost there.”

“That’s it, baby girl,” he nods, working his fingers harder. “Cum for me,” he demands, and who are you to disobey such a wonderful order?

Your walls clamp down hard on his thick fingers, the pleasure overwhelming you. “Frankie!” You cry out, head falling into the headrest of the seat.

Everything in your body is pulsing, desperate, pumping red-hot blood that feels like it’s infused with some kind of illicit drug to produce such a high. You whine his name again and again until it’s all too much, and you squeeze his wrist gently, asking him to be done.

He complies, tracing his fingers through your folds before they press against your lips again. “Clean me off, baby.”

You nod and take them in your mouth, lavishing them with your tongue the way you would with his cock, which you’re now growing more and more desperate for.

He pulls them out with a pop and dries them on his flannel, smirking over at you. “Goddamn, honey,” he murmurs as he looks at how wrecked you are just from his fingers. Before you can say anything, Frankie whips the truck into drive and peels out of the parking spot.

The sound of squealing rubber startles you, making you jump and squeal as you button your jeans and zip them. “Frankie!” You gasp and smack his arm. “What the fuck was that?”

His eyes are dead-set on the road, determined not to look at you, not to detract from his mission. “I’m getting us home as soon as I physically can so I can feel that around my dick,” he says, teeth grit in concentration.

He’s rock hard, you can see, and you offer a soft rub into his crotch. “Oh, baby,” you chuckle excitedly, staring at the road ahead of you. It’s going to be a long ride home for the two of you.

It’s safe to say that your anxiety over flying has lessened.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867

#frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #catfish morales x reader #catfish morales #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pascalpanic

[crazy-hand-official]

so

for years @master-hand-official and I have been writing a story together. we started it maybe in high school (or perhaps early college, I forget). it has spanned maybe 10 or so story arcs, and has been included in tons of word documents, power points, excel sheets(!), and gorgeous art that has been featured in art shows. it has gotten us both through incredibly tough times in our lives and allowed our creativity and skills to grow and flourish in ways we couldn’t have possibly imagined. this story has gone on, back and forth, for years. It means so much to us and is a source of brilliant nostalgia and friendship.

for posterity, we have archived everything including our notes. right now, we are in the process of organizing it all together in a document that makes sense. going through it has been so much fun. it has a lot of bizarre, sometimes completely non-sequitur humor that gives it its shine. That’s one of the things we really adore about it.

so without further ado... here are my favorite out-of-context quotes from the stories. im not done going through them quite yet so I might reblog this with a few more:

“the grandpa lives in the attic of the house, next to a plant and a trash bag.”

“‘I want scrims for supper.’ says the grandpa’.”

“Adam walks in, he explains [the horrible wheezing sound is] his robotic life partner and sexbot.”

“Frankie says ‘guise, guise, I need, I want, some of them CASHEWS! Y’all got cashews? That I can have?’”

“Adam turns his neck around 180 degrees to watch over Mohammad.”

“Roman went next. He was hamming it up and sang his rap — it went ‘GUNS IN MY HANDS, ANTS IN MY PANTS, RUBBER BANDS.’”

“She launched to kick at them but as she did so she farted loud enough for everyone to hear. She tried to cover it up by making noise but everyone knew.”

“The stepdaughter penguin honked.”

“No one was listening to him so he made a ruckus and yelled ‘HEY. EVERYONE SHUT UP AND LISTEN. ~Shawty’s like a melody in my head...’~”

“He looked like Plastic Man in that one meme where he’s eating powder that makes you say Yes.”

“He lit a small fire in the middle of the room using sticks and leaves. ‘Now, okay, normally I’d do this with some ants or a rat or something, but I don’t have any of those on hand right now. So just pretend there’s a rat or some ants in there. Can you just imagine them burning up in the flames?’”

“And so the two gays embarked on a journey to the shoe store, where John picked out some purple leather shoes for Seb so that he didn’t have to look like some mushroom fuck freak.”

“He started dancing to some music that was only playing in his own head (it was a live Gary Numan album from his 1980 tour).”

“Officer Nasty was just spinning in circles.”

“‘It’s 12 PM. That means it’s showtime for my friends, the Enema Tronics. Hit it, boys.’”

“‘My ear reminds me of my son Adam. He’s under my skin right now, talking in my ear. Oh god, he moved! There’s two Adams in my scrotum, I have to get them out!’”

“‘My son, in the future, named Adam, my future son named Adam, he has this triangle of skin too!! But see how mine is flabby? His is going to be bony. He is going to have a bony, chiseled neck triangle. See, I don’t have enough collagen, so my skin is flabby. But he is going to have too much collagen! So his skin will be taut like a drum!’”

“‘I AM HAVING AN OUT-OF-BOBBY EXPERIENCE!’”

“Everyone went [to the local Waffle House] and took up this very long booth and all sat on one side of the table, like in Costagno’s Last Supper, with Jared being the only one on the other side, like Judas.”

“He wore a whole bondage getup with chains and all. He looked like the ghost of Christmas past.”

“‘John bought the New York Dolls as if they were a basketball team and gave them to me as a gift for my birthday and now I need your help getting rid of them!’”

“RJ throws a shoe at Roddie’s head like the Iraqi journalist did at George W. Bush and he dodges it and runs at him like a super bowl and throws him in a dumpster...”

“Bea dumped his ass and started dating a handsome astronaut named Billy Joel Armstrong.”

“...he then takes out a tape recorder and says into it ‘...The Smiths are my new Aerosmith.’”

ok thats it for now

#me personal adam #the story

[mychemicalficrecs]

christmas fics?? everyone talking abt christmas in july has me in the mood for feels

So it turns out there’s a lot of Christmas fic!

Christmas Fic

Frank the crankiest elf by Gorgeous Nerd (gorgeousnerd), Frank/Gerard, 2k, Explicit. There were two things Frank hated: Christmas, and disappointing his mom. Considering his mom's last name had been Claus ever since she remarried, it was a bit of a fucking problem.

Needles in His Hair by jetblackmirror (orphan_account), Gerard/Mikey, 1k, Teen And Up Audiences. Coming home on Christmas.

Like two birds of a feather would be by Pennyplainknits, Mikey/Pete, 8k, Explicit. Hiding places, Santa hats, Pencey Prep, and some really dirty dancing.

Air-Pollution Purple by orphan_account, Gerard/Mikey, 3k, General Audiences. The Killjoys set up a refugee camp for the holidays instead of wasting time finding presents -- except, Poison has always been a rebel.

Everything I Needed to Know About Life I Learned Teaching Kindergarten by bootson, Frank/Gerard, 3k, General Audiences. The last day before Christmas Break should be easy for Gerard and his teacher’s aide, Frank. Teaching kindergarten, though, means never having a dull day. It wouldn’t be Gerard’s classroom if Victoria wasn’t biting Gabe, William and Adam weren’t trying to steal Ryland, Greta and Lindsey weren’t hording crayons, and Brendon wasn’t crying while Spencer glared at everyone

Just For Christmas by pikasafire, Gerard/Mikey, 1k, Teen And Up Audiences. Mikey and Gerard share a kiss under the mistletoe.

Teacherverse by seimaisin, tuesdaysgone, Frank/Gerard, 7k, Explicit. Frank is ranting again. Gerard tunes in from a distracted study of the hair curling at the nape of Frank’s neck and realizes he’s missed about half a train of thought. "I'm just saying," Frank continues, waving around a stack of lined paper like a flag, "they can barely call it the English department anymore, if this is the kind of thing the kids are writing for their other classes. I don't think this sentence even has a verb in it."

White Desert by edy, Fun Ghoul/Party Poison, 3k, Mature. There's something about Christmas—or just any holiday—that makes Party Poison depressed, unresponsive, and stubborn. Fun Ghoul tries his best to make the Killjoy leader feel better.

Secret Santa by wicked, Frank/Gerard, 3k, Mature. For fill in the prompt quote: "If you're gonna buy me a present, don't spend more than twenty five bucks, you'll get a blowjob anyway." (Gerard) Christmas - My Chemical Romance style. It’s Secret Santa time and Frank knows exactly what to get.

'Tis the season by OwlHooots, Frank/Gerard, 9k, Explicit. Frank hated Christmas, but this year, Frank had Gerard.

Secret Santa by orphan_account, Frank/Grant/Gerard, Frank/Grant, 9k, Explicit. Gerard works at a women's clothing shop and designs clothes in his spare time. When they decide to change their usual secret santa traditions up a bit, things don't go quite as planned, but Gerard still gets invited to dinner by the hot guy from the bookstore across the street. Again, however, things don't go quite as planned.

Last Christmas by Lyra (Lyra_87), Frank/Gerard, 7k, General Audiences. A story of heartbreak, love and forgiveness at Christmas

All I Want For Christmas Is A Boyfriend by MyChemical30, Frank/Gerard, 2k, General Audiences. Gerard sort of has a history with sucky relationships involving jerks. He can't seem to keep a boyfriend but it's never really bothered him before now. With Christmas only a few days around the corner his newest breakup was not as appreciated as he would have thought it would be. His only hope to find a boyfriend to spend the Holidays with? Write a letter to Santa of course!

Open Windows (Woke Up And You Were Gone) by blindlyseeking (orphan_account), Frank/Gerard, 3k, Not Rated. A short fic that I began some time ago about recovery and love

Holiday Spirits by missred, Frank/Gerard, 1k, General Audiences. It's Christmas Eve and Frank is being stubborn as ever.

Merry Christmas, Fucker by fvckmefrankie, Frank/Gerard, 3k, Explicit. “A condom..?” Frank asked, and then it clicked.

Totem by RubyTuesday5681 (orphan_account), Frank/Gerard, 5k, Explicit. It's Christmas Eve out in the zones, where the ghosts are gathering strength as the prey on and absorb energy from the living. They are especially powerful on spiritually significant nights such as these. BLI may have succeeded at making the people in Battery City forget about the holidays of the old religions, but the ghosts still remember. Ghosts never forget. This is not a happy story.

Underneath The Mistletoe Last Night by orphan_account, Mikey/Pete, 5k, Not Rated. In which Mikey is a tattoo artist and falls in love with florist Pete in the most awkward way possible.

Merry and Bright by prophetic, Frank/Gerard, 10k, Not Rated. The mall is weird, yes, but even it sometimes has moments of Christmas beauty.

Somebody Needs To Sing a Christmas Carol by ermengarde, Frank/Gerard, 6k, General Audiences. Wherein the local store is personally persecuting Frank by not carrying his favorite soda and Gerard is (probably. HOPEFULLY) not a psychopath. A tale of Elves, veggie lasagna and gender essentialism in the run up to Christmas.

Soon The Bells Will Start by Jiksa, Frank/Mikey/Pete, Lindsey/Gerard, 5k, Explicit. Mikey has a slight melodramatic crisis in the middle of the night, Gerard has a herd of capsized sparkly reindeer in his hallway, Frank has five minutes to apologize, and Pete's got a brilliant solution to all this nonsense.

I Said I Love You by Merkey666, Mikey/Pete, 4k, General Audiences. Pete is awkwardly invited to a holiday party by his crush, and he doesn't really know how to deal with that information. Despite being an absolute mess when around his crush, he goes anyway. It doesn't go as badly as it could've.

snow falls on desert skies by rage_for_love, Fun Ghoul/Party Poison, 2k, Teen And Up Audiences. In which Ghoul sees snow, and everyone else remembers.

Bitterness and Frank Pulls an Oprah But With Basses by Merkey666, Frank/Gerard, Mikey/Pete, 4k, General Audiences. Pete and Mikey definitely didn't fuck in Gerard's bathroom on Christmas Eve.

In Which Gerard Learns About First Impressions (A Very Special Holiday Episode) by coffeewordangel, Frank/Gerard, 3k, Mature. The last thing Gerard wants to do with his Christmas Break is entertain some snot-nosed brat.

All Frankie Wants For Christmas is a Stepstool by Ourladyofresurrection, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Teen And Up Audiences. Prompt! : “I can’t reach the Christmas decorations on the shelf and you look tall, can you help me?”

Christmas Is for Lovers by stoplightglow, Frank/Gerard, 6k, Teen And Up Audiences. “I sort of—” Frank takes a deep breath, looks up, then swiftly drops his gaze again. “I sort of told her I have a boyfriend.”

Even The Snow Falls For You by cemeterycoffee, Frank/Gerard, 8k, Teen And Up Audiences. Okay, Frank is most definitely not Santa, but he did have a very good reason for breaking into the house.

Clutching At Straws by turps, 2k, Not Rated. Mikey/Pete, failboat Christmas shopping AU

There Is Just One Thing I Need by Honestmouse, Ray/Mikey, Frank/Gerard, 13k, Teen And Up Audiences. Just a short, sweet one shot about Mikey Way and Christmas time.

It takes more than Tinsel to keep you warm by ermengarde, Ray/Gerard, 1k, General Audiences. For the prompt: Gerard/Ray, holiday preparations

#frank/gerard #gerard/mikey #mikey/pete #fun ghoul/party poison #frank/grant/gerard #frank/grant #frank/mikey/pete #ray/mikey #ray/gerard #fic rec list #christmas

[sanktaleksander]

Oh and B2 and/or D14 for frankenbilly please, if they inspire you! 💖

I really hope you enjoy this one too!

Frankenbilly + body worship + a bit of face fucking?

In the darkened room, Frank sat on his knees, peering up at the gorgeous man before him. His heart was hammering away in his chest, the opportunity set before him practically mind-numbing. 

He never thought he’d get this chance, never thought this moment would come. He’d spent years hiding from who he was and what he wanted, focusing on everything he could to forget about the desire raging deep inside every time he laid eyes on his best friend. But now, everything was about to change. He’d finally allowed himself to give in, to go after what he wanted and now he was going to have exactly that. He’d wanted Billy for so long and finally, here he was, poised to have the other man in exactly the way he wanted.  

Frank was already naked, his cock standing at attention between his legs as he looked up at the other man. Billy was devoid of a shirt, the moonlight highlighting the hard planes of his body. Frank looked like a man bowed before the idol he worshipped, ready to offer himself up. 

Frank’s hands went to Billy’s pants, slowly undoing the buckle and the zipper before pulling everything down, boxers included. Frank’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of Billy’s erection, his stomach doing a nervous flip. He swallowed thickly, as this was his first time being up close and personal with a dick that wasn’t his own. Still, the sight excited him, overtaking the nervousness he felt. 

Frank had only second-hand knowledge of how to do this but he was more than willing to give it all he had. He took Billy’s length in his hand, giving it a firm stroke, giving him a moment to compose himself before he took the head into his mouth. He tongued over the slit and under the crown, noticing the change in Billy’s breathing almost as soon as he started. He eagerly slipped more past his lips, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucked, beginning to bob his head. 

Billy exhaled loudly, his hand coming to rest on the back of Frank’s head, his fingers tangling in his hair. His eyes slipped closed as he focused on the feeling of the other man’s mouth on him, his lips parted as he panted softly. Frank wasn’t experienced, that much was clear, but he sure as hell had a lot of enthusiasm. Considering how long Billy had been wanting this and denying himself, he was more than willing to look past Frank’s lack of technique. 

Frank’s hands moved to stroke down Billy’s thighs, loving the power he could feel under his touch. His eyes closed as he let himself sink into the rhythm, enjoying the taste of Billy’s on his tongue. A shiver trailed down his spine as Billy’s nails dragged across his scalp, the other man’s pants quickly becoming moans. 

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Billy had opened his eyes and was now watching Frank work with rapt attention, “love watching you like this. You look so goddamn perfect with those lips around my cock.” 

Frank let out a moan of his own, his eyes opening to meet Billy’s, his cheeks warming at the praise. An impish grin slipped over Billy’s lips as he watched, combing his fingers through Frank’s hair, “Such a beautiful boy, Frankie. And you’re my beautiful boy now, aren’t you? Mine and mine alone. Nobody else is gonna get to see you like this, nobody but me.” He groaned as Frank’s tongue stroked along the underside. “Fuck yes, I can’t wait to have your dick inside me.” 

Frank felt goosebumps break out across his skin. His cock ached between his legs, dripping precum onto the floor. Every sweet, filthy word sent another thrill through his body, the heat in the pit of his stomach threatening to boil over. 

Billy guided Frank off his dick then, his cock shiny wet in the dim light. Billy took himself in hand, letting the head drag along Frank’s plump, spit slick lips. “You were made for this, made to be mine. Say it, sweetheart, say it.”

“I was made to be yours.” Frank murmured, lips brushing Billy’s cock as he spoke.

Billy’s grin grew even wider. “Fuck yeah, such a good boy.”

Frank took Billy back in his mouth then, swallowing him all the way down in one go, burying his nose in the neatly trimmed patch of hair at the base. Billy groaned loudly, head thrown back in surprise and pleasure. The sound he made went straight to Frank’s dick and before he knew it his body was shaking and shuddering, just as Billy’s spilled down his throat. 

Frank swallowed everything Billy had to give before slowly pulling back and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Billy looked like he was barely able to stay on his feet. He was panting heavily, his hair a bit mussed, his eyes glazed over. It took a moment for him to come back to himself. When he did, he looked down at Frank, blinking a bit before asking almost curiously, “Did you…?”

Frank swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing as his cheeks began to heat. He nodded, then slowly getting to his feet. 

“Jesus, fuck, that’s hot.” Billy breathed out, reaching to pull Frank in for a kiss. 

They stumbled over to the bed, where Frank soon found himself straddling Billy’s waist. Frank bent over the other man, taking his time as he began to kiss his throat, then down his neck over his shoulders. On and on he went, hands stroking where his mouth wasn’t, pressing kisses to every inch of skin he could get to. He kissed freckled shoulders and the dip in the crease of each arm, as well each of Billy’s fingertips and along his flat stomach, brushing his lips against stubble beneath his bellybutton. He moved to Billy’s thighs then, kissing along the top before moving to the inside, stroking and squeezing. He had been soft but by the time he put his mouth on Billy the second time, they were both growing hard again, Billy fidgeting impatiently as his skin flushed from Frank’s attention. 

Frank took his time opening Billy up with both his tongue and his fingers, making sure the man was absolutely begging for it by the time he finished. When he finally slid inside, they both let out sounds of relief. 

Billy slipped his arms around Frank’s shoulders, holding him close as he let the other man have his way, sweet, hitching moans coming from his lips on every thrust. Frank kissed him every chance he got. “Should’ve been doing this years ago.” 

Billy nodded quickly in agreement, his eyes squeezed shut. “Yes, yes, I should have never thought I could live without this cock.” 

They moved together like they’d been together for years. They were completely in sync, utterly wrapped up in each other. The room filled with sounds of their lovemaking, deep, intense moans and guttural groans mixing with soft whines and muted kisses. 

Billy had never felt anything so intense in his life as when his second orgasm hit. His nails dug into Frank’s skin as he spilled between them, body spasming beneath the other man. Frank soon followed, burying his face in the crook of Billy’s neck as he let go. 

In the quiet that followed, Billy wormed his way closer, seeking Frank’s warmth and his kisses. “You better dick me like that all the time.” He threatened as he nuzzled against Frank’s stubbled cheek. 

Frank chuckled warmly, his tired eyes closing as he wrapped Billy in his arms. “No arguments here.”

They fell asleep like that, tangled up together from head to toe. 

DONATE TO MY KO-FI

#frankenbilly #brank #frank castle/billy russo #frank castle x billy russo #prompts #answered #my writing

[ive-fallen-and-i-cannot-get-up]

some quick bobbie sketches

can’t lie i don’t love some of these but oh well

#i’m working on a bigger bobbie piece so expect that soon #but as i was drawing her i realised just how fucking gorgeous she is #like i already knew that #but drawing her made me see it even more #shout out to frankie adams for those eyes #the expanse #bobbie draper

[ear]

PLEASE share your vld reboot ideas aja the show canon is garbage and your mind is so galaxy brain

OK OK ALRIGHT!!!!!!!!!! alright so idk what kind of. earth landscape this reboot occurs in…. like yallve got this retro 80s/90s neon future verse going on but i didnt think my reboot version would fit into that so yall go wild with whatever hc for this earth reboot thing u want cuz im not creative and i didnt really think that far ahead

ALRIGHT here we go. this is so long i HAVE to put this under the cut but i hope yall enjoy the creations of my MIND……

- akeno “KEITH” shirogane: (age: 19) [gay] hes japanese/black/galran. hes still half galra in this reboot bc i fuck with that honestly but hes got more visible galran traits. his bottom canines are larger than usual and poke out from his bottom lip so he wears a mask to cover his mouth and his eyes r still purple but instead of his sclera being yellow(tinted), hes just like. got some odd golden flecks in his eyes. he normally wears a dirty mechanics jumpsuit with the top half tied around his waist and a black or white tank top underneath (hes still a high school flunk out so he works full time at a car repair shop so hes able to buy food and shit at LEAST + hes still got his motorcycle to keep in shape). his casual clothes r just regular grey sweats, hoodies, and adidas or whatever brand is closest in their future lol. hes blood related to shiro who ill get to in a second.. shiros blood related to him as his uncle (brother of keiths dad) ALSO his hair isnt long in this reboot, hes got a short messy head of hair that he mostly just pulls back into a TINY little pony tail on his forehead (like in the game show ep) so it doesnt get in his face while hes working. he also has goggles bc thats the one thing from yalls reboot ideas i actually like (endgame lion: he momentarily pilots black during shiros disappearance but his permanent and stationary lion is red)

- fal’allura “fala, ALLURA” naguna’ephy: [lesbian] (age: 21 or close to that in alien standards) shes altean on her fathers side and teem (what we’re gonna call nymas race) on her mothers side. she bares more altean features except her eyes are solid yellow and shes only got four fingers on each hand. instead of crescent shaped facial markings, she has painted on red and golden lines across her nose and her upper lip. her hair (very dark purple with silver highlights and literal glowing, twinkling stars) is VERY long, brushing the floor as she walks except and (now bear with me cuz this might be hard to explain) her hair, the farther down u look kind of fades away? like it becomes semi to absolute transparent… idk how else to explain it but i hope u understand…. she does wear a crown but its more like a headdress.. (imagine beyonces headdress).. she doesnt wear it often, usually only on diplomatic missions to greet other worldly rulers bc its heavy and it makes her neck hurt :/.. her dress! looks like this! but a little more spiffy .. u know.. her casual/training clothes are just…. idk imagine a royal looking sports bra and leggings?? i guess … ALSO ALSO ALSO she can still shape shift but instead of limiting her shifting to just the changing of skin tone and height, she can completely mimic different alien species but only humanoid races.. like she can have those indented looking knees and huge ass horns and all that but she cant like. turn into an earth lizard u know what im saying. also also also also she still speaks with an accent just… not a british one….(endgame lion: no lion. she keeps leading and piloting the castle ship until destruction, where she leads and pilots the atlas)

- alejandro “LANCE, ale” reyes-leon: (age: 19 ½) [bi] hes cuban/black/vietnamese. his dad is black and vietnamese and his mom is cuban! hes got longish afro textured hair he keeps back in a pony tail most of the time like this or a bun when training bc hes too lazy to put any actual effort into styling it. hes got a couple moles/freckles scattered across his face and hes got sectoral heterochromiaaround his left pupil so theres a little bit of blue in one of his other wise dark brown eyes (like this).. i havent really figured out what his clothing style is.. i thought about keeping his clothes close to vld canon like his jacket (bc that was a really good jacket) but im gonna go a little wild here so hold on. he wears one of those surfer type looking skin tight turtleneck shirts underneath his heavy bomber jacket.. he wears just regular ripped jeans and hightops like in canon…….. hmm……. he wears a pink bead necklace under his shirt that was made by his little cousin just a couple weeks before he was shot off into space and he hasnt taken it off since…………. he also has a tiny stick and poke tattoo on his ankle he did when he was thirteen bc he thought it would look cool but it turned out kinda lop sided so he never takes his socks off in embarrassment (endgame lion: blue to red (during keiths reign as black paladin) then to black when shiro leaves voltron to lead the atlas alongside allura)

- takashi “SHIRO” shirogane: (age: 31) [gay] hes japanese/black. hes keiths uncle and the only family keith really has .. his design doesnt really change much except hes got long hair (like kuron) but its pulled up into a messy bun or pony tail.. in MY canon hes still gay and married to adam (whos name isnt adam i just cant think of a new name for him yet) (and adam lives dont worry) and theyre working on adopting a daughter before shiro has to leave for kerberos. shiro usually dresses in work out outfits so like. gym shorts… tank tops.. leggings.. imagine those white blonde dudes who always wear a man bun and only eat vegan and drink chai from starbucks bc thats exactly how shiro acts but ONLY ironically ……… when shiros abducted on the galra freighter and forced to fight in the ring, his hair streaks white but instead of just a clean scar across his nose, he has multiple long scars scattered across his face from a one x one between his face and some debris thrown at him by a gladiator. his prosthetic looks and remains kinda the same i guess but this time its decked out with claws on the finger tips so it looks a little more galran yeah? (endgame lion: no endgame lion. he pilots the atlas alongside allura)

- francesca “frannie, frankie, PIDGE” eleonora: (age: 15) [trans girl lesbian] shes . just italian i guess. so anyway shes not gonna be an asshole bitch like canon pidge.. shes gonna be the caring sweet but KINDA mean little sister we always wished we had.. the little sister who would tell u, with all honesty, that ur winged eyeliner was smudged before u hit the town with the girls and made a fool of urself……. ANYWAY shes still gonna be the ‘hacker’/computer geek techno girl but not as much ykno? shes JUST a little girl so she just kinda does her own thing. i rlly like all the fanart i see of her wearing overalls and stuff SO thats her canon design…… she wears faded overall jeans over a short sleeved pale pink tshirt w a dog one it and scuffed up chucks. she wears glasses but instead of just taking them from matt she has an actual prescription and is basically blind without them. i literally cannot stress this enough but shes such a nice girl like the team pretty much adopted her as their little sister the moment they boarded the castle ship. idk what else to add on to her!!!! i literally did not put any thought into pidge at all! (endgame lion: permanently green)

- opetaia“HUNK” tuitama: (age: 19 ¾) [bi] hes samoan/black. hunk was adopted and has two moms and three other siblings, all of who are younger than him. im not sure about his fashion other than i KNOW deep down in my heart that he would wear cargo shorts…. i cant find it in me to get rid of his bandana thing so i let him keep it except he uses it to tie his hair up instead of using it as a head band thing….. HUNK in my au is more of a tech freak/engineer than pidge so he handles most of that stuff with the occasional help from pidge (like wiring… she has tiny fingers that can grab the wires easier) hunk probably wears the crocs/sandals with socks combo but just because he loves hearing lance bitch about it whnever he struts into a room. hunk also looks good in his vest so im gonna let him keep that but it looks more modified… like it has a bunch of pockets and stuff to keep bolts and nuts and other stuff he needs to work with.. thats also why he wears cargo shorts; just for the pockets.. (endgame lion: permanently yellow)

also ur probably wondering “if lance is in black and keith is in red and allura doesnt pilot a lion, THEN WHOS PILOTING BLUE????” …….. heh… peep this………..

- ADAM elsammak-althani(thank u mal @fuckvld for ur gorgeous arabic adam hcs..): (age: 32) [gay] i dont have much to say about him other than read mals hc lists and that ADAM LIVES IN MY REBOOT and he also joins the voltron team and pilots the blue lion (i FIRMLY hc that hes a very free/wild spirit and just loves to make jokes and is just.. a really fun guy to be around and obviously blue would open up to him in a SECOND. dont even @ me) (endgame lion: BLUE!)

#VOLTRON #this is SO long im sorry mobile users :^( #ALSO..... HEH...... ill draw them soon...... someday... i promise.. #also if i messed anything up just tell me and ill fix it.. muwah #Anonymous

[chemicalconnection]

Vampire tinder

Tinder. Not that Frank was opposed to the new age techniques of flirting, but.. it felt odd. Really, really odd. He was swiping through the app, seeing some pretty girls and guys, but nothing that really cracked his core and got his interest.

He was aware of the "necking" thing, humans looking for vamps to bite them.

So he was sitting there, on his big ass motherfucking fluffy and marshmallow-ey chair, his legs hanging off the arms, and swiped.

Cat woman? Nah. Tasted too much like cat.

Really burly guy with awesome tatts? Intresting, but nah, his blood would probably be watered down.

Cute, twinky boy with an undercut? Too sweet tasting.

Old grandma? Erm..

That's how it went for a while until Frank was bored as hell and groaning with every single "away" swipe.

Goddamn, he was a vampire, he was three hundred years old, hungry and fucking horny as the young adult he looked like.

Then he saw it. A beautiful artsy black-and-white picture of a slender neck, arched to the side. A velvet choker accenting a sharp adams apple and bringing out the pulse vein, deliciously dark and alive under thin skin.

The beautiful, mouth-watering neck continued into a gorgeous shoulder, the bone poking out just a bit. It looked like it was made to have hickeys and Frank's mouth dropped open. He'd blush, but he didn't have the blood right now, since it was going into, hrmn, other directions.

He quickly swiped "oh my god yes" and got promptly hit with a promising message sound.

Fckvmpz: <So I see you like my neck, pretty?>

Frank blushed, even if he hadn't gotten the blood for it.

Frankenween: <Kind of, yeah. I'd like it better between my teeth>

He replied. Oh god, how could he have used such a bad line? He could've been cool and witty, something eloquent and matching his 300 years of experience.

Fckvmpz: <Sweet. I'm Gerard. And you are..?>

Frankenween: <I'm frank and you're cute.>

Fckvmpz: <Hahahahhah, that's a good one! No seriously. I'm going to assume that you're really that fucking attractive guy from your profile pic and not some old creep. If everything goes good and we're on the same page, would you wanna meet up? In a public area? For coffee?>

So the months passed they eventually met and Frank couldn't not stare at Gerards neck the whole time. He, Gerard, obviously noticed, even though frank thought he was being sneaky.

He made a goddamn show out of it, leaning really close into the vampire when listening to him, resting his fingers on his neck and pulse and always arching his damn throat.

Frank alternated between blushing hard and trying to hide his vampire boner. Or, both. His vampire boner and his boner boner.

After they finished walking around in the city and making the best out of Frank's visit, they crashed at Gerards appartment.

The human smirked once the door was closed and pressed the smaller vampire against the door.

"I noticed you staring today, frankie.." he whispered, leaning in closer. Frank's eyes were fixed on his throat, how it moved when Gerard spoke in that voice to him, the voice he used in one of their late night Skype talks, the voice that brought him to his fucking knees.

"So why don't you finally get a taste, baby?"

Frank gladly took that invitation.

(inspired by @jerseymisery )

#vampires #mcr #gway #frank iero #beetlejuice' writes #i havent written in.. ages

[ibelongtonegan]

The Argument (Negan one-shot)

All right, so this all started out with a scene from Extant, where JDM’s character, JD Richter is trying to stop his daughter from leaving the house by slamming his hand on the door above her head… This scene got me thinking and it turned into this naughty little Negan one-shot…

Summary: you are one of Negan’s wives and have a heated argument with him leading to hot, rough make-up sex…

Characters: Negan x Reader, Lissa (OFC, one of Negan’s wives), Simon and Negan’s other wives make a cameo as well

Word count: 4,091

Warnings: angst, dirty talk, smut (breath play, mild coercion, mild restraint, rough sex, vaginal sex), swearing

Tags: @negans-network

You can read this fic on AO3 as well.

“That’s enough, Negan! I’m done with you!”

You were yelling at the top of your lungs at your husband, not being able to control your anger anymore. You were tired of him and his games. It had been three months since you agreed to become his wife but your marriage was anything but perfect. He barely had time for you, and even when you were together, you most certainly didn’t act like a normal couple. Not that your marriage could be labelled as normal, far from it.

Your husband was Negan, the leader of the Sanctuary, a factory complex that provided shelter for a few hundred of survivors of the apocalypse, who in return for safety, worked for him. Negan did not rule these people only: he made several communities of survivors in the area provide for him, through weekly offerings of food, guns, supplies, or whatever they could scavenge or produce in exchange for protection. But Negan was busy with other things too: he had five other wives beside you.

Initially you found the idea of becoming one of his wives crazy. Join his harem and share him with other women? You didn’t want to hear any of it. But Negan was a very persuasive man. If he wanted something, he didn’t stop until he got it. And he wanted you, badly. He did everything in his power to make you succumb to him and ultimately you couldn’t resist his charms anymore and agreed to marry him. Not that you actually had a proper wedding ceremony let alone a honeymoon. Such luxuries were not possible in the apocalypse. You exchanged vows in private and from the moment you said yes to him, your were his wife. His sixth. Thinking back on it now three months later, you had regretted your decision.

You were far from being happy in this marriage. You loved Negan, with all your heart and hoped that he loved you too, in his own way at least. But even if he loved you, he had five other wives and you couldn’t help but feel jealous of them. Negan tried to spend equal amount of nights with all of you, with Saturday usually being “your night” every week. But Negan didn’t follow anybody’s rules, but his own. He started to deviate from the schedule recently by picking another wife on Saturdays instead of you, and there was nothing that you could do about it. You tried to seduce, beg and fight him, but all your efforts were in vain, he couldn’t be persuaded in any way.

Despite the absurdity of the situation, you had a fairly good relationship with the other wives. You were all competing for the affections of Negan, but still got along relatively well with each other, well, at least most of the time. You were especially close with Lissa, Negan’s fifth wife for she took you under her wing when you married Negan and helped you settle in at your new home. She was the only person you trusted with your secrets and the only person who knew about your frustration with your husband.  

It was Saturday evening and you were all resting in the lounge area of the wives’ quarters, waiting for Simon, Negan’s right-hand man to arrive and announce Negan’s pick for the night. Sherry and Frankie were chatting amicably, Amber was reading a gossip magazine with a lollipop between her lips, Tanya was sipping on a cup of tea and Lissa was busy painting her nails a deep shade of ruby red. You were reading your favourite novel but could hardly pay attention to the story with your thoughts wandering around Negan. Biting your lip nervously you looked up to the silver clock on the wall, for the hundredth time in the last hour. Simon could be here any minute. You were wearing your favourite white shirt, navy miniskirt and that gorgeous pair of navy stilettos Negan gave you for your birthday. You put on some dark eye-shadow and a beautiful nude shade of lip gloss to complement your look. You looked good. Hell, not only good, but thoroughly fuckable and you most definitely were down to fuck, finally.

You held your breath when Simon appeared at the door, making your heartbeat quicken. Negan had spent the last two Saturdays with Amber and you missed him. You missed his touch on your skin, his lips teasing your body and the way he felt inside you. But Simon did not stop at your chair but walked over to Amber lounging on the couch and told her to get ready and meet Negan in his room in half an hour.

“What the hell, Simon? It’s Saturday!” you jumped up from your seat abruptly. The other wives stopped what they were doing and were staring at you in shock. They have never seen you act like this before.

“Easy, Y/N. I’m only following Negan’s orders. If you have a problem with that, you should talk to him about it,” Simon replied nonchalantly and left the room.

Keeping her eyes on the magazine Amber started twisting a strand of her blonde hair around one finger. The artificial fruity scent of her lollipop invaded your nose.

“Looks like somebody is jealous,” she muttered under her breath.

While beating the shit out of Amber in retaliation was a seriously tempting idea, you dismissed it quickly and decided to do just as Simon suggested: go and talk to Negan.

You threw your book down on the table and stormed out of the lounge heading straight to Negan’s room that was located at the other end of the corridor.

“Y/N, wait! You cannot just go to him now!” Lissa called after you, but you barely heard her due to the cloud of anger enveloping you.

Your furious steps echoed in the hallway, the heels of your stilettos clicking against the concrete floor. On the way there, you were trying to think of what to say to Negan. You knew that you have argued with him about this, in fact several times before, but nothing you said would make him change his mind. He always dismissed your complaints and said: “You don’t get to decide when I spend time with you, dear wife, I do.”

You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts when you arrived at Negan’s black door. Without bothering to knock, you pushed down the doorknob and stepped into his room only to find him sitting on the couch, talking to Simon who was standing next to the coffee table. Negan was visibly not pleased to see you dare to enter without knocking and him inviting you in first, but you didn’t care. Your blood was boiling with rage and good manners or Negan’s preferences about wife visitation were the last things on your mind right now. You went straight to the couch opposite Negan and sat down with your arms crossed in front of your chest, eyeing him intensely.

“Well pardon me, dear wife, excuse the shit out of my goddamn French, but what the fuckity fuck is going on?” Negan asked irritated, drumming his fingers on his left knee.

“I need to talk you. Now,” you said harshly.

“We are in the middle of a strategy meeting right now, darling. You and I will talk tomorrow evening after the run.”

“No, we need to talk now,” you insisted standing your ground.

“I think I better go and check the ammo inventory before tomorrow’s run,” Simon excused himself hesitantly, waiting for Negan’s approval. He knew all too well what was coming and didn’t want to get caught up in the middle of it. Negan kept his eyes on you for a moment before giving Simon a curt nod, effectively dismissing him. Simon went to the door and closed it silently behind him.

“What the fuck, Negan? Seriously? You are picking Amber for tonight? Again? Saturdays are supposed to be mine!” you blurted out, not being able to hold back any longer. You were too furious to sugar-coat your words.

Negan gave you a knowing smirk. It looked as if he had expected the exact same reaction from you. He leaned forward on the couch, his black leather jacket making a squeaking sound as he ran his gloved hand through his beard.

“Oh, of course. Here we are again, sweetheart. You still not being able to come to terms with your place in my harem,” he said smiling.

“I’m tired of this, Negan. I’m not your toy to be tossed aside when you get bored of me!” you spat at him and slammed your fist on the coffee table. Your whole body was shaking with fury.

Negan suddenly pulled out and grabbed your arm on the table. The buttery soft leather of his glove tightened around your wrist with an iron grip.

“Don’t you dare to do that ever again!” he snarled at you, his voice dangerously low.

“Or what? What are you going to do about it?” you challenged him boldly. You were adamant not to let him intimidate you.

“If I didn’t know you, doll, I would think that you are picking a fight on purpose, to piss me off. Looks like I need to remind you again that I own you, baby girl and can, indeed, do as I please with you,” he growled at you. You tried to free your wrist from his grip but he was holding it tightly. “If I want to spend Saturday or any fucking night of the week with you, I will and if I don’t, then I’m going to spend it with whichever of my wives I fucking want to. Either way, you don’t come to me, I come to you, if and when I like it,” he replied now himself boiling with rage. “And I suggest you watch your mouth, sweetheart, for I will certainly not tolerate that tone any fucking day of the week from you!”

A dangerous flame was burning in his eyes now that should have warned you to back off, but you were past the point of no return. His words have only fuelled your anger.

“Oh, forgive me, my beloved husband, for my ignorance and thank you for enlightening me on my place and rights as your wife,” you replied giving him a forced smile. “Now that I know what I can and cannot do, I know exactly what I’m going to do. If you don’t want to have me anymore, then I’m leaving. That’s enough, Negan! I’m done with you!” you yelled at him and tore your arm from his grasp. Jumping up from the couch you headed straight for the door. Once you have reached it you pulled it ajar but all of a sudden it slammed shut again before you with a loud bang.

You looked up to see Negan’s hand planted on the door next to your head. You were surprised at how quickly he reached the door but you had no time to contemplate this as he grabbed you by the throat and pushed you roughly up against the door, slamming his body against yours.

“Let me go, Negan, I’m leaving you!” you hissed at him trying to get away from his grasp but he held you firmly in place, his leather glove feeling cool against your skin.

“No, you’re fucking not!” he roared and before you knew it, his lips crashed against yours, claiming them in a passionate kiss. You tried to protest but he pushed his tongue inside your mouth.

You clenched your fists into balls and tried to push him away, but you didn’t stand a chance against him. He was taller and stronger, more than a match for you. He tightened his grip on your throat threateningly.

“Negan…no!” you protested as your breath hitched. You were still mad and didn’t want to give in to him, but couldn’t ignore the heat pooling in your belly. The way he took charge in bed has always been a turn-on for you and despite your mind protesting against it, your body started to respond to his touch eagerly.

“Oh, yes, sweetheart. You want this as much as I do. And you want it just like this, I know, so stop fighting me,” he grunted. You felt a new wave of heat course through your body at his words.

“No…I don’t want you…ever again!” you barked at him defiantly.

His lips curled up into a wicked grin.

“Oh, honey. I know exactly what you want. You want me to fuck you, right here, up against this fucking door, like there’s no tomorrow and you shall fucking have it.”

His lips came crashing down on yours again, eliciting a soft moan from you. You wanted to protest, but couldn’t anymore. Your primal instinct took over making you give in to him and meet his lips with equal intensity. To hell with logic, Negan was right. You wanted him and you wanted him to make good on his promise, just like he said. You slid your hands up his chest and wrapped them around the back of his neck.

He broke the kiss and released his grip on your throat for a moment to shrug off his leather jacket and then tossed it on his bed. He was wearing one of his favourite white t-shirts that showcased his toned arms and chest. He started licking his way down to your collarbone, peppering your neck with kisses and soft bites, his stubble lightly grazing your skin. A whimper escaped your lips and you brought your hands up to run your fingers through his hair, tugging hard as he continued to pleasure you. His musky scent invaded your senses, mixed with a hint of leather, after-shave and mint, creating an irresistible combination.

Your anger has completely dissipated and was replaced with something else: hot, liquid desire that was coursing through your veins, taking over your mind completely. The heat of the argument turned both of you on, heightening your passion and lust for each other. You didn’t care about what was said before, the only thing that mattered now was tasting, touching and feeling as much of each other as possible and letting out the pent-up energy that accumulated in both of your bodies.

Negan moved his hands further down and reaching your shirt, ripped it open, making the buttons fly off and scatter on the floor. A low growl escaped his lips at the sight of your bare breasts.

“No bra? Naughty girl…,” he whispered in a raspy voice.

He grabbed your breasts greedily, enjoying the touch of your hot skin. He moved his lips to your hard nipples, licking and sucking them gently. He moved his hand down to your stomach and started drawing tiny circles with his thumb around your belly button, sending a jolt up your spine.

“Fuck, Negan!” you mewled helplessly, your mind engulfed in a haze of pleasure.

“Soon enough, baby,” he smirked relishing in the power he had over you.

Reaching the hem of your skirt, he lifted the garment and before you knew it, his left hand was cupping your sex, while his gloved hand was still around your throat, holding you in place.

“Fucking hell, darling, you are soaking wet already!” he exclaimed feeling your wetness through your panties, rubbing the soft cotton against your pussy.

“Oh, God…don’t stop!“ you pleaded and opened your legs further to give him more access.

“Oh, sweetheart, I don’t intend to,” he replied with mischief in his eyes. His lips continued their assault on your neck, now biting at your skin more firmly, leaving purple marks along the way.

“Oh, God! Negan, please!” you begged him panting hard.

“Please what, doll?” he asked huskily. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific, baby,” he teased mercilessly.

“I…oh, fuck...I want your…I want your fingers inside me!” you managed to say in a shaky voice.

"Really? Is this what you want, doll?” he inquired matter-of-factly.

“Yesss…please!” you hissed through gritted teeth, overwhelmed by the sensual pleasures he was giving you. 

You tried to buck your hips against his fingers for more friction but he tightened his grip on your throat in warning and pushed his hips against yours to keep you in place. He pressed his erection into your core, making you gasp out loudly. You felt like you could come solely from the feeling of his bulge rubbing against you.

“Oh, no, doll, that’s not the way it works. You’ve been a very bad girl and for that I’m going to teach you a lesson. I will fuck you so hard that you will remember the feeling of my dick inside you for the rest of the week as a reminder that you are my wife, now and forever.”

With his free hand he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his hard cock. He pumped it a couple of times spreading the pre-cum over the smooth tip. With a single movement he ripped your panties from your body and tossed them aside. He picked up your legs and wrapped them around his hip as you kicked off your stilettos and let them drop on the floor.

Without hesitation he slammed into you, making you wince. While you were wet for him, he did not give you time to adjust to his size and started thrusting in and out of you in a brutal rhythm. The slight discomfort was soon replaced by sheer pleasure, making you arch your back against the door. You have missed the feeling of Negan filling you up completely and was already close to your climax.

“Who do you belong to?” Negan asked between thrusts, panting hard, snapping you out of your blissful haze. His pubic hair was grazing your clit, the friction driving you insane with need.

“To…ohhh...you…,” you stuttered between moans.

“Louder! Who do you belong to?” he urged tightening his hold on your throat, speeding up his thrusts at the same time. Tiny beads of sweat started to form on his forehead and temples. His moves became almost animalistic, the urge overtaking him. The sound of skin slapping against skin rhythmically filled the room.

“You! I belong to you, Negan!” you cried out feeling a little light headed from the lack of oxygen and starting to tighten around his cock.

“Good girl,” he praised, finally satisfied with your reply. His thrusts became faster and sloppier, signalling that he was getting closer to his peak.

“Now come for me, baby!” he commanded and his words finally pushed you over the edge making you scream out loud as pleasure washed over your entire body, making your arms tighten around his shoulders and your toes to curl up. It was the most intense feeling that cleared every thought from your mind. Negan pushed into you a few more times and came hard, cursing loudly and shooting his hot cum inside you.

Your legs felt like jelly and you couldn’t hold them around Negan’s hips anymore. You tried to steady yourself by holding onto his neck but you were so weak that your body started to slide down along the door. Negan released his grip from your throat allowing oxygen to fill your lungs, heightening the sensation of your post-orgasmic bliss. He grabbed your hips and knelt down on the floor, with his dick still inside you, so that you were straddling his lap. You were both panting hard, still coming down from your highs, your hair and clothes messy and your bodies covered in sweat.

“Looks like we should be arguing more often,” you murmured against Negan’s neck.

“We most certainly should.” he replied with a chuckle and started kissing your neck lazily. “I missed her so much.“

“Missed her? Who?” you mumbled sleepily against him.

“Well, your hot, wet pussy of course,” he laughed out wickedly.

“Asshole!” you exclaimed and punched him in the chest lightly, his crude remark earning a smile to appear on your lips. “I think she missed you too,” you whispered in his ear, giggling. His skin smelled of sex, sweat and a hint of soap and you snuggled closer to him to feel more of it.

“And what about Amber? Weren’t you supposed to spend tonight with her?” you asked hesitantly, remembering the reason for your argument earlier. You started drawing lazy circles on his chest absentmindedly. His skin felt hot and moist to your touch and his t-shirt stuck to his body.

“No, I was to spend tonight with you all along,” Negan replied simply.

You looked up at your husband in disbelief.

“But, Simon…he said that you…”

“Simon said exactly what I told him to say,” he countered looking at you intently, a mischievous smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“I…I…I don’t understand…why did you tell him to…?” you started shaking your head when the realization hit you. “No…no, Negan, you didn’t! You did this all on purpose? To make me mad and start a fight?”

“Sure I did, darling. I remembered the make-up sex after our last argument and just couldn’t help it…I had to have more of that. And so did you, I believe,” he added and continued to plant feathery kisses along your throat.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you replied curtly pushing him away, crossing your arms in front of your chest and pursing your lips at him. You felt anger bubble up in your chest again at his confession.

“Oh, doll, you want to start another fight? I’m up up for it, as long as we make up with some freaky-deaky fun afterwards,” he beamed at you, bringing his gloved hand around your neck again and grasping it gently. It wasn’t painful but it was enough to remind you of how he restricted your air supply while he was fucking you earlier. You obeyed instinctively and dropped your arms from your chest. He smiled triumphantly and continued kissing and sucking your neck. 

“So…uhm…Amber, did she know about this?” you asserted.

“She was in on the whole thing right from the beginning. In fact, she was worried as fuck about how you would react to me choosing her on the previous two Saturdays already,” Negan added licking your collarbone, his stubble grazing your skin tantalizingly slowly.

“Wow…you planned this all out, didn’t you?” you looked at him in awe. And you thought he was neglecting you in favour of his other wives. You were thankful now that you didn’t give in to the temptation of beating Amber up earlier.

“It was worth it, wasn’t it?” he replied with an evil grin on his face.

“So…what’s going to happen now?” you inquired cautiously as Negan’s tongue left goosebumps in its wake on your still sensitive skin.

“You mean, after round two?” he asked licking his lips.

You sighed out loud and slapped his arm playfully.

“Negan, you are still inside me!”

“Oh, trust me, baby, I fucking noticed,” he replied huskily and moved his hands to your ass pulling your body closer in his lap. You could feel his cock harden inside you again. “What can I say? I’m an insatiable motherfucker.”

“Now that is something I can attest to. Especially the ‘motherfucker’ part,” you snorted rolling your eyes at him.

Negan gave you a dark look, narrowing his eyes at you, making you blush and shift uncomfortably in his lap. You knew how little tolerance he had for any of his wives acting insubordinately towards him and how he enjoyed doling out punishment for such behaviour. Not that you minded being punished by him if it meant a sweet torture like the one you have just had to “endure”... The idea of testing the limits of his patience seemed temptingly alluring...but you were still sore from earlier and needed some time to recover. Negan never failed to keep his promises and you were certain that you would indeed remember the feeling of him inside you for the rest of the week. Another time then, perhaps.

You gulped hard and looked away to escape his piercing gaze. “I mean..from now on. What is going to happen on Saturdays?” you pushed further.

“Saturdays are yours and yours only,” Negan murmured against your lips, nuzzling your nose with his.

You smiled at him happily, content with his reply. You leaned into him and kissed him deeply.

“I love you, dear husband,” you whispered to him between kisses.

“And I love you, dear wife,” Negan replied claiming your lips again.

#imagine #negan imagine #twd negan imagine #negan fan fiction #negan fiction #negan #twd negan #twd #the walking dead #negan's network #negan's thirst squad #my shit #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan

[zayadriancas]

Dnc season 3 thoughts warning spoilers ahead also very long and messy

I want to write my thoughts I have so many That was the most amazing season since season 12 in my opinion I don't know where to begin This is probs gonna be out of order because I watched all 10 episodes straight through no break only paused to type a post a few quick things on here •Maya's plot was by far my favorite I could relate to it so much, the suicide attempt was exactly how I attempted to, I didn't OD as badly as Maya but I took a lot that made me feel sick for days. The scenes with her mom especially where she threw the mirror made me cry. I've had so many similar outbursts like that. And feeling like no one was there for her. I understand why people shut her out, Grace was disturbed by the photos and Zig is basically Esmes property (not talking about the kiss but feels like he's not even allowed to talk to Maya because of Esme smh) I'll get to that later but like I've felt like that too like no ones here for me kike I only have one friend and I know he can't always be here for me but I feel like I'm not important to him and he knows I'm suicidal and depressed and I'll tie in what Lola said that I can relate to SO much, "It's like we have pain but we can't talk about it because it makes people uncomfortable" and I think that's how I make people feel and it sucks. Not that Maya really talked about her pain but she felt like no one cared. She even said "I feel like Tristan's there(hospital) because I exist" after bringing up Cam's suicide and Adams death (so glad they added him in there too because I found it weird that Maya was in a band with him and she wasn't at the funeral/bonfire or even mentioned it before) but anyway like idk where I'm going with this Maya's whole plot this season was so relatable and gave me so much tears The fact that she broke her wrists too omg 😭😭😭 but the most disturbing was the roof scene like the writers said it would be, omfg I'm so glad Esme and Zig found her and saved her I'm glad Katie made an appearance I wasn't ever the hugest fan of her but I'm glad she was there for Maya I already said this earlier but I cried when she performed the song she wrote for Zig And omg the way he tickled her was so cute THEY CONTINUE TO MURDER MY SOUL AMD I CANT BELIEVE MAYA KISSED HIM AND he finally learned his lesson to pull away when he has a girlfriend but he couldn't do that when he was with Maya UGHH I already said this but I hate Zig/Esme as a couple. I would even take Zace over this. She's so rude to everyone and I feel bad for her for what happened to her mom it's so fucking sad and I'm glad they finally told us her backstory. But the way she treated Maya, shay(especially shay but I'll get to that later) Miles, and just how she acts towards people in general. Every time Zesme kisses I cringe. I hate how she bumped Maya on purpose. Like Maya probably wasn't even aware Zesme was an official couple she knew back last season they were hanging out but it's not Maya's fault and I'm just so upset for Maya this whole season. I felt all of her pain She looked so gorgeous though I love her hair and her wardrobe this season •I love that they did a period plot. It's so realistic and relatable. I got my period at school before and bled over the back of my pants and didn't notice till way later and no one told me. Just laughed. Esme was such a bitch about it god when will that girl just shut up. Tiny was so sweet to buy Shay tampons but he shouldn't have given them to her in class lol. But I loved Frankie and Shay being there for each other this season and all their conversations. •Hunters plot I thought was gonna be lame but it actually was so funny. "Let's just agree for now that boners are funny" lmao and "we were gonna watch porn" and them all sitting there awkwardly lol •I normally don't like Zoe but I LOVED her this season and I'm so proud of her for being so confident and being open about her sexuality without caring what anyone thinks. Her and Rasha are great together I love them and I also love the Gracevas renewed friendship. ITS SO FUCKING SAD ZOES MOM KICKED HER OUT I HATE THAT BITCH. I'm so glad Grace is letting Zoe stay with her. •Like I said I loved Lola's line about her having pain but not being able to talk about it because it makes people uncomfortable like I said I can relate so much. I hate myself but I didn't hate Lola/Miles I just wish it hadn't been while he was with Tristan. But I did like their friendship a lot. I also love that Yael and Lola became friends. And I'm so glad they went in depth with the abortion plot it's so important and I'm glad everyone supported her. •Graces plot was so sad but IM GLAD SHE GOT A PLOT ABOUT HER ILLNESS and although it showed her friendship with Jonah it was all from her POV and although I suspect feelings (and I actually do ship them quite a bit tbh the scene on the golf course was so cute) it wasn't all about that it was about Grace choosing to take a chance no matter how risky and trying to live life to its fullest and I am so glad she's become the Grace we know and love this season. It made me sad when she blocked Maya's number but I understand why she did it. •Tristan at the end well throughout the whole episodes typing in his computer was so heartbreaking but I'm so glad he is awake and I'm so glad we got to see his mom finally. TBH the play the acting was so forced and had no emotion it made me cringe but I'm glad Miles told Tristan the truth. And Tristan typing into his computer "can we get pizza it's been 6 months since I've had pizza" omg •everyone there for Maya at the hospital in the end was great too even Zoe and Miles im so glad she has support. When zig said "I told her to leave me alone today" reminded me of when he said "I told cam to go away and he did" but I'm so glad everyone knows it's not their fault. I'm so so relieved and glad Maya's gonna make it and that she's gonna be okay. (Physically I mean) I know mentally it's gonna take time but I know she'll make it through this. •I don't care about Fronah but I feel bad for Frankie. What she did was wrong reading his messages but I can tell throughout the whole episodes especially when she told him in the car she wanted a break she was trying to be mature about it, I think aside from the message reading she handled herself fine throughout everything and as always I loved her friendship moments with Lola and Shay. •Miles's speech at the beginning about wanting to take someone's pain away from them and give it to himself made me cry so hard. As always, Esme pissed me off with how she treated him. Like I understand she was upset by the pictures but she should know better than anyone what it's like to go through seeing someone she loves going through pain and Miles was trying to cope in the only way he knew how. I get the pictures were triggering for the class and i get why it was asked to be turned off but to make him feel bad about it idk where im going with this im tired but anyway the whole thing just made me tear up •The whole zig/Esme sex thing and shit and every time they kissed made me wanna barf. Zig looked so hot though throughout this whole season. IM SO GLAD WE FINALLY KNOW WHERE ZIG LIVES AND OMG SAYING HE DOESNT HAVE A Family made me so sad. And like I already mentioned Esmes past shocked me and I feel so terrible for her. •Maya giving grace her ring I wanted to cry. Also when Grace said Maya was a crappy friend made me feel so upset like I get Maya kept bailing on plans but it was clear Maya was going through something. But it was clear Maya felt bad when she found out what grace was going through. Maya looking at the pics in her room made me so sad. I can't wait until she is happy like that again. She deserves so much happiness and love. •also I hope Jonah gets a plot about being in narcotics anonymous next season I'm glad they gave us something about him like we knew he had drug debts before but I thought they'd never bring it up again I'm glad they did even if it was briefly • shiny was adorable even though they kept fighting but they were able to make up which im happy for aside cuz from Zasha and the possibility of Grace/Jonah happening they are the only canon ship I care about. Well not the only one but the only one I believe will make it at this point I honestly thought Zesme would be done by ep 10 but they're still going strong and next season which is the seniors final season Maya will be recovering and Zig seemed to be over her this season and I just feel so sad I wanna have hope for Zaya but I feel like it's pointless. Of course what's most important is Maya is happy and healthy again and if she graduates happy that's all that matters to me. But Zesme being endgame terrifies me. I mean I love that zig and Maya interacted but zig mostly just seemed so wrapped up in Esme now and he had every right to move on but it still breaks my heart 😭😭😭💔💔💔 Anyway though aside from Zesme this season was amazing, totally amazing and had great plots in every episode and I was so hooked and it was definitely the best Next Class season so far. I can't believe all my faves will be leaving next season😭😭. This season was deff in my top 5 1: Season 4 2: Season 7 3: Season 12 4: DNC season 3 5: Season 11 So yeah I can't wait to see gifs of this season lol I wanna gif but I'm too tired. I wanna screencap but I'm so tired. After I sleep maybe. I'm emotionally drained from that amazing season

#dnc spoilers #maya matlin #zig novak #miles hollingsworth #lola pacini #shay powers #anti esme song #anti zig/esme #frankie hollingsworth #hunter hollingsworth #zoe rivas #rasha zuabi #zasha #katie matlin #grace cardinal #jonah haak #gronah #suicide tw

[tvserieshub]

In my last reviewcap, I actually didn’t recap. But, I’ve decided to return to that format. In this episode, the moral is beware what you create. Errinwright was useful to Avasarala her entire career, until he wasn’t. She was right that he was a powerful, determined man, but she seems to have underestimated his willingness to go the full distance, including murdering his Russian UN counterpart and arranging to kill his mentor! Naomi has carried the guilt of leaving the Eros survivors behind and is finally compelled to take action to help clear her conscience. She’s also pretty determined. Holden continued to demonstrate his single-minded determination to eliminate the living hybrid protomolecule, although others around him are becoming aware there has to be more of this stuff. We see the true spirit of the Belters in the decisions necessary to evacuate from Ganymede.

The reviewcap begins here.

Sadavir Errinwright (Shawn Doyle) is using some way old-fashioned tech to shave. (I’m presuming a preference rather than that dipilators don’t exist in this time frame and this also shows in his choice of using a fountain pen to write with). He’s mentally replaying his defense of his actions to Avasarala, and what he perceives as her betrayal. He meets with his son, Jefferson (Gage Munroe), who asks whether Errinwright’s monsters in his sleep were real or imaginary. Errinwright is scaring his son in his attempts to have a heart-to-heart. His son says he doesn’t have nightmares (yet). He advises his son to follow his heart, because that will always be the right call.

In orbit around Ganymede, the Roci glides, hunting for the critter, but the Roci is in stealth mode. Alex (Cas Anvar) says if it really is a human-protomolecule hybrid, they have no future. Alex locates Protomolecule Man (PM) (“acted” by Elias Toufexis) and Holden (Steven Strait) asks for weaponry to be transferred to him. Prax (Terry Chen) looks at a handheld which contains information about “Project Caliban.” Prax implores Holden to not kill PM, because (i) he is still (of course) thinking of his child and (ii) he’s a researcher, so he’s curious about it, as well. Holden doesn’t appreciate being talked down to because he wants to kill it, and says that Prax would feel differently if he had been at Eros. Alex warns Holden that if they are sighted, they will be destroyed. They wait a few minutes and Holden insists that Alex get them to the Ag dome immediately. At the UN, Errinwright and Avasarala (Shohreh Agdashloo) meet. It’s clear that Errinwright is being sacrificed and he’s unhappy about what his son will think of him. He hands his medal to Avasarala, instructing her to give it to his son. Avasarala lays out all the good that he’s done, sure that it will help to shield him. Avasarala asks Sadavir if he’s really convinced Mars would use the weapon against the Earth and he sincerely says he’s convinced. He heads into the meeting. Back on the ship, Melissa (Valerie Buhagiar) is working to get the Somnambulist returned to working order to rescue as many Belters off of Ganymede as possible. She asks a big dude to help corral all the people. He asks what’s in it for him, and she offers him passage. Naomi (Dominique Tipper) and Amos (Wes Chatham) (looking a lot worse for wear with a bloody bandage) tell Melissa that they don’t want passage, just to help her fix her ship. Melissa calls them “shit magnets,” but allows them to come with her. (In her defense, they kinda are!) On the ship, Naomi is horrified that some tech guy is actually making things worse, and she takes over the repair. Bobbie (Frankie Adams) investigates Avasarala’s room, while she waits for her when Cotyar (Nick Tarabay) comes in. Cotyar gives Bobbie a hard time for betraying her oath. Bobbie tells him she’s never initiated a fight, but burn her and hers and she’ll go through him like a door. This clearly impresses him. They exit to go meet Avasarala on a shuttle. Avasarala is exceptionally snarky and Cotyar tells her he was making sure they didn’t lose their luggage. I love that as badass as Avasarala is, Cotyar pretty much gives as good as he gets. They have a great relationship. Avasarala looks absolutely ill. It’s clear she does NOT relish space flight. After some repartee, Bobbie asks WHY she is there. Avasarala says there are still Martians at the UN and she wants to make sure Bobbie’s safe. “I am not a fragile flower.” Conveniently, Bobbie and Cotyar can save Avasarala’s ass if need be. And, thus is born ABC. (I favored Bobbicotsarala, but ABC IS undeniably a briefer acronym.) I love the little smirk on Bobbie’s face at Avasarala’s discomfort. Avasarala knows that Jules-Pierre Mao will never voluntarily leave Earth to not return (Earth’s real gravity).

Sadavir pens a letter to his son, urging him to understand that he’s doing what he thinks is right. I think it’s interesting that Sadavir’s son’s name is Jefferson (rather than, say, Lincoln). Back on the Roci, Holden, Alex and Prax chase the PM into a tunnel. Alex doesn’t like the clearance, but Holden is determined. They shoot at the PM, but miss. Alex points out that it might be luring them in, but Holden will not concede. The folks outside the Somnambulist are panicking and angry because they can’t breathe. A scuffle breaks out and Melissa and Amos retreat back in to the ship. Amos, clearly hurting, needs a shot of pain relief and Naomi keeps the injector with her. Melissa let’s them know that the station’s air refiller no longer works, so they only have enough air for 52 people. The radios are jammed, so they can’t get help. Naomi suggests loading the ship up and rendezvousing with the Roci, but Melissa won’t risk overloading in case Holden doesn’t come back. Naomi says they aren’t leaving all those people. Sadavir and Korshunov (Jeff Seymour) share a drink over having NOT actually signed a peace treaty. Korshunov is adamant that Mars won’t until Bobbie is returned. Errinwright says that she was a witness to a technology that has to be shared between both major powers. (At least Korshunov got some damn fine Scotch before what’s coming). MCRN is sending a ship to evacuate the lab (and retrieve the Protomolecule research and “stuff”). Holden points out that now Mars has the Protomolecule. Alex objects and we  finally see a bit of origins division (Earth vs. Mars) in the Roci crew resurface, it’s been awhile.

On the Somnambulist, the crowd tries to convince the Big Guy (Champa, played by Gugun Deep Singh) that Melissa is playing them.

Korshunov tries to explain that not all new technology is or has to be a weapon. But, Sadavir makes a point of showing Korshunov that apparently that is how humans are built. If you give an ape a stick, for sure the first thing it would do would be to kill another ape. Power corrupts. Korshunov collapses and they pan to the drink, but Sadavir picks up Korshunov’s drink, downs it and says “no, it was 186 minutes ago” that the poison was administered. Errinwright describes a lethal genetically-modified poison designed to target people, and how it was banned, and yet – it’s still around and available to kill. Korshunov’s pad beeps announcing the arrival of the Karakum to Ganymede, and Sadavir leaps into action pretending to save Korshunov. As Avasarala’s shuttle arrives, Cotyar pulls out a handgun, which Bobbie promptly derides. Cotyar notes this is how he survived and, in response to Bobbie’s question, he admits he was involved in intelligence. As they trade barbs – we discover that Cotyar says he was responsible for getting Avasarala’s son killed. Bobbie looks shocked.

They board the Guanshiyin, Mao’s gorgeous ship. They are offered cucumber sandwiches, which Bobbie unrestrainedly enjoys. Avasarala with typical bluntness, tells Mao (Francois Chau) to get to the point. On the Roci, Alex tells Holden that the coms have gone nuts because the Karakum has literally gone dead. He says he thinks someone blew it up. On the Somnambulist, “Big Guy” is frustrated with the panicked behavior of the Belters. Parts of the Karakum begin to strike the Ganymede station, causing panic and Melissa orders Naomi to take off. Amos tells her that he understands why Naomi wants to stay but Melissa is right. Mao tells Avasarala that if they stop ruining his family’s name and release them, he’ll consider giving them access to the technology that now is going to be in Martian hands. Avasarala points out that he can’t be loyal to both and he’ll of course benefit by being the ultimate controller of the technology. A tightbeam transmission arrives for both Mao and Avasarala. It’s Errinwright, who says that Korshunov is dead and that the Karakum has been blown up and HE gave the order. And, he can kill Mao and Avasarala RIGHT THEN. He says only two men could protect Mao, and Korshunov is now dead. He then turns his righteous wrath to Avasarala, castigating her because she drilled it into him that Earth must come first, but now she is groveling at the feet of Mars. Her betrayal is his worst hurt. He instructs Jules to return to Earth – ALONE – and get the fuck back to work. The message is clear. Kill ABC. When the message is done, everyone leaps into action, guns drawn. Bobbie protects Avasarala and one of Jules’ guards takes him and they withdraw into an elevator. On the Somnambulist, Naomi wants to go talk to the people – she still feels extreme guilt over leaving the people at Eros, although she had no choice. Amos tries to stop her and she tranks him, and he looks shocked at her action as he sags into his chair. Naomi opens the door to the crowd. They rush in and Big Guy practically chokes out Naomi. She explains what’s going on with the oxygen. Once he understands, he shoos everyone out. He delivers a stirring speech and calls on their BELTERHOOD. And, they respect him. One of the saddest scenes is him putting Naomi in the ship’s airlock with the other passengers, in his place. This was heartbreaking, but they were so faithful.

On the Roci, Alex sees that the Somnambulist is in trouble, and he tells Holden that they MUST go. The Martians launch a torpedo and after a very tense few moments, the Roci clears the horizon and detonates the torpedo. Holden has Alex basically paint EVERYONE around and tells them if they bug the Somnambulist they will feel the full arsenal up their ass. Alex says someone will test this, but Holden says, no, they are saving their weaponry for each other, and he’s right. On the Somnambulist, Melissa tells Naomi that she did good today, and she did. The very last thing you see, as the Roci escorts the Somnambulist is blue shit in the cargo hold!!

Grade: A-

This episode marked the forging and severing of relationships. Errinwright and Avasarala are clearly done, after all, he implicitly orders her death, and in his eyes, she has betrayed both him AND Earth. Naomi and Melissa bond, with Melissa overcoming her original outrage (even though in my opinion, Melissa’s husband was dead either way, the Roci crew just actually saved her and the Somnambulist). A particularly tender moment was the moment when the Belters were left behind, and were exceptionally civilized. This reminded me of the airlock scene with the FIRST group of Belters evacuated from Ganymede. Pretty stark contrast in behavior, but the emotion was equally wrenching. We witnessed the cementing of Bobbicotsarala, and I thoroughly enjoyed their interactions throughout the show. These actors clearly like each other.

Next episode (and season finale): “Caliban’s War” aired on April 19, 2017 at 10 p.m. on Syfy

The Expanse (S02E12) “The Monster and the Rocket” In my last reviewcap, I actually didn't recap. But, I've decided to return to that format. In this episode, the moral is beware what you create.

#Avasarala #Holden #Mao #Naomi Nagata #Protomolecule #Rocinante #The Expanse

[tvserieshub]

We open with a very quick recap of pretty much all of Season 1 – impressive. In basically one minute.

Shifting quickly, we see a battle, which is a ground exercise on Mars. This introduces a significant new character, Gunny Bobbie Draper (Frankie Adams), who’s just been told she’s heading out to Phoebe Station. They note it’s going to be a long trip (score one for space travel time realism). Gunny’s missile delivery is really awesome.  Before she leaves, she looks at the projected terraforming of Mars. It’s beautiful. (Uh oh! the streamed version has the very short titles. Viewers who watched live were treated to the full length gorgeous titles. Here’s a link to the full version – https://vimeo.com/breeder/theexpanses2).

Shifting to the Rocinante, Holden (Steven Strait) is dreaming that the infection on Eros made it to the Roci. Amos (Wes Chatham) and Naomi (Dominique Tipper) are working on liberating a storage unit.  Amos notes the perks of a vac suit include peeing in place. Before Naomi has a chance to go use the head, they realize the chamber they are working with is no longer functioning correctly. Alex (Cas Anvar) is testing desperately unhappy refugees from Eros to see if they are sick.  Fortunately every one is clear, but the refugees suspect they aren’t welcome and think the Roci should have taken more.

Miller (Thomas Jane) takes a look at frozen, dead, Semi, who Amos took out. Miller says good bye to Semi, before spacing the body. Miller knows that they used Eros as the testing location because no one would care about 100,000 Belters. Miller, although cynical, is likely correct in his assessment. He and Holden continue their anti-dying treatment.

Naomi and Amos, finish opening the cryogenic unit and determine (to their horror) it contains the blue shit from Eros.

Avasarala (Shohreh Agdashloo), code named Archangel, is discussing people’s general untrustworthiness, when she is spared by “this much” from being blown up.

The Roci team sees the test film made by Dresden, showing him testing the Protomolecule (Yes, now it has a name). And, they figure out that the Protomolecule was an “Extra-solar object.” Holden: “First proof of alien life.” Miller: “and it’s just more fucking death.” Amos suggests launching it into the sun. Miller does NOT endear himself with Amos when he calls him No-Neck (I was amused). Naomi votes against destroying the Protomolecule sample, because she thinks a vaccine could be made out of it, but everyone agrees NOT to keep it on the ship. They decide to give it a berth out “there.”

Bobbie, on the transport to Phoebe is proceeding to beat the shit out of a droid arm on the MCRN Scirocco. Pretty fucking impressive.  I like that they note her problem with the suit (which is a nod to the book).  The crew has a conversation about origins, and how weak they think Earthers are. This crew is mixed, and they have strong opinions about what makes one a Martian and tempers are hot, but Gunny is a true leader telling them to keep it professional. The group encourages Gunny to seduce the Commander to find out info.  Gunny doesn’t “use sex as a weapon, she uses WEAPONS as weapons.”  She’s invited into a meeting, discussing the fate of the MCRN Donnager. Although suspicions abound, the Captain wisely instructs to not jump to a conclusion. So, Earth thinks the Canterbury was destroyed by the Martians and the Martians think the Donnager was slagged by Earth. They discuss the passion they all have for the Mars terraforming project.

Jules Mao (François Chau) and Sadavir Errinwright (Shawn Doyle) are discussing the issue of Phoebe and how a Martian gunship is heading there. They worry that someone needs to get to Phoebe first. Errinwright is concerned about keeping Eros isolated. Jules mourns Julie. Jules tells Errinwright he should never talk to him about sacrifice again and basically says if Earth wants any further weapons systems, they better play his way.

Back on the Roci, Miller and Holden get an injected device to hold cancer in check. Miller goes to examine the coffee machine, and Amos is in the galley. They need to clear the air about Semi. Amos tries to explain to Miller that Semi pulled a gun and that he follows Naomi, but Miller isn’t satisfied. Using the excellent “drop the coffee cup” distraction, “skinny” Miller takes on “human” Amos… with a somewhat predictable outcome. Amos tells Miller to stay down, but Miller is actually constitutionally incapable. Amos is about to end Miller, but Naomi stops him.

On Earth, Errinwright expresses his errr… sincere concern over Avasarala’s welfare, while ensuring she’s told that it was an OPA plot.  Shifting to a UN meeting, they argue whether to kick asses or just keep an eye on things. Avasarala agrees they need to re-deploy the fleet, but she doesn’t look happy.

Naomi checks in on Miller. Miller clarifies the relationship between Amos and Naomi with Naomi, and it’s clear she’s Amos’s guidestar. Naomi knows that Miller holds a torch for Julie, but didn’t realize Miller never met her. Miller illustrates what happens when you are surrounded by bad shit all the time. He notes that while Holden was shocked about Eros, he was only shocked it hadn’t happened earlier. He still sees Julie. She’s his anchor to his “humanity.”  Miller and Naomi have a bond due to their shared Belter identity.

The Mars ship has been commanded to not let Phoebe fall into UN hands.  We see Bobbie rally the troops. “Who Are We? MMC!!!”

Avasarala meets with Cotyar (Nick Tarabay), who she recruits for “security” but who is really a spy for her. She tells him that she thinks Errinwright is tainted.

The Roci “finds a nice little resting spot for the nasty blue goo.” Naomi and Holden are out deploying it into a rocket, with charges – so if it’s disturbed they will know about it. Holden is clearly still not 100%. They are having a half personal discussion, when Naomi initiates a private helmet-to-helmet convo. She is concerned with doing something about what they all experienced and wants to make sure Holden is OK. He assures her he is. The goo is launched to its new home. When Holden and Naomi reboard, they are removing their uniforms and…well. That spark is lit. As the Expanse Season 1 kitty video says, “space sexy time.”  Steam is relieved. Good thing the next door neighbor is 100 million miles away.

Back with Bobbie, live rounds are loosed from the Scirocco, which means battle is likely. But, what they did was to vaporize Phoebe.

The UN meets again because of the Scirocco’s approach to station Phoebe. Because of the time required for communication with ships out in the Belt, Avasarala manuevers the UN into holding off until they hear back from the Nathan Hale, preventing a devastating “hot” war.  However, when the Nathan Hale does report back, they learn the Scirocco completely destroyed Phoebe Station.

Alex feels the crew needs to bond, so he gets everyone together for a meal, and they learn about Miller and cheese farts. Amos and Miller now have an unspoken truce.

Bobbie meets with her commander and is wondering just what is going on. And, she goes back to dreaming of life on a verdant Mars.

Such a strong start to the season! The beauty of the books are the complex threads, which, when combined, tell a wonderful and terrible story of humanity and beyond. Last season, some viewers didn’t like the perspective changes, but they are elegantly arranged to inform the viewer of the big picture, one small picture at a time.  Characters are showing their complexity. The visuals are stunning. I have absolutely no trouble in losing myself and thinking I’m actually in space with the various characters.  The show is dedicated, almost fanatical, about the accuracy of what they depict, without it being SO nerdy it turns people off.

Grade: A

Next Episode: “Doors and Corners” (aired jointly with Safe on February 1, 2017)

The Expanse (S02E01) “Safe” We open with a very quick recap of pretty much all of Season 1 - impressive. In basically one minute.

#alex #Amos #Avasarala #Belters #Holden #Martians #Miller #Naomi #Rocinante #The Expanse