#ill just use frankie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hellishjoel · 7 months

Text

playing hooky

9.2k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter l Next Chapter

summary: Frankie calls in sick for his shift. You simply must investigate.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), mentions of reader previously being on her period, smoking w33d, getting h!gh, swearing, pet names (angel, princess, etc.), handjob if you squint, oral (f! receiving), unprotected p in v, h!gh sex, aftercare, tangled feelings/messy emotions, sitcom vibes

A/N: tune in next time for a special halloween episode of Table for Two!

follow hellishfics and turn on notifications to see the next time I update!

“We’re not at the diner right now, y’know? We can,” he pauses to find the right words, seeming to get lost in the beautiful hue of your eyes. “We can take things slow. Wanna take my time with you.”

You purse your lips as you scribble another drawing on your order pad. You’re sitting at one of the empty barstools at the counter, one leg lazily swinging back and forth while the other is brought up under you.

“You’re gonna get hip dysplasia.” Carla, your sarcastic manager, hums as she passes you. She playfully smacks you with her own order pad before she settles down beside you, a loud and tired sigh leaving her ruby-red lips. She rolls her swollen ankles, a side effect of being on her feet all day. A side effect of being alive.

Your eyes lightly screw together, eyebrows knitting in curiosity. “I thought only animals get hip dysplasia.” You trail off and watch her sit with slight confusion. She parts her lips and takes a breath before her face contorts in thought.

Finally, Carla reemerged with a new confidence. “No, baby, because my cousin- my second cousin,” she illustrates all of this with her hands. “They were born with it! I swear, look it up.”

You stifle a giggle before you both hover over your phone in search of the truth via Google. That’s when you clock the time.

Your head swivels to the wall clock and confirms it’s half an hour past five in the evening. “No Frankie tonight?” You ask, eyes still attentive to your phone as you attempt to try and hide any obvious interest or concern. Where the hell was he?

Carla eyed you up and down. Since when did you start caring if Frankie showed up for his shifts or not? She decides not to press it, clearing her throat as she moves off her barstool once she hears the doorbell chime, a new customer sauntering in.

“Just said he was under the weather. And we don’t need another sick line cook, that’s for damn sure. Everyone would be coughin’ and sneezin’ over their undercooked bacon and runny, nasty eggs.” She said with a little umph at the end for distaste.

You sigh and nibble on your thumbnail.

Frankie was a bit of an ass, but he made the shifts go by faster. Yes, even before you started fooling around, he was entertaining.

Let’s see, there was the night he tried to see how many coffee cups he could stack and if he could make a tower to the ceiling - he tried this multiple times, and each attempt left glazed ceramic shards everywhere, to which Carla made him sweep up.

There was another time the diner needed supplies, and Rudy, the owner’s son, sent you and Frankie on an errand run. He pushed you in the cart through nearly the entire store, in search of toilet paper and paper towels, dish soap, and other amenities. Frankie bought you a Redbull at the end of it.

Now, more recently, Frankie fucking pavloved you! Like a damn dog! Every time you worked a shift, you got ferociously horny. You had gotten so used to clocking in, working for a bit, then getting your needs met. And now that you had finished serving time being on your period, you were needy for what you missed while you were surfing the crimson wave.

Your foot, more anxiously now, taps against the metal stand of the barstool you were sitting on, huffing in annoyance hearing that Frankie was ill. The pit in your stomach was already coiling, searching for a release that just wouldn’t be satisfied tonight. Or would it?

You’re not in the back kitchen as much as everyone else, but as the end of your shift wound down and it was nearly ten o’clock, you decided to piece together a panini and a side of fries for Frankie. You thought about how he learned you weren’t feeling good just last week, and he knew how far a simple meal went to make you feel better. Maybe you could do the same for him. And that was it. You swear there were no ulterior motives. Just a nice coworker bringing a bite to eat.

You yank your phone from your uniform. Your fingerprints smear your phone screen with grease from the fries.

text me your address if you’re still up

frankie (work) Huh?

You have to will yourself not to roll your eyes.

read the first message again and ask me if you’re still confused

frankie (work) Okay sassy pants 194 Rivercrest Apartments #501

His stupid reply leaves a broken, twitchy smile on the right side of your mouth. Stupid asshole.

Once the restaurant closes, your clunky car takes you across town to Frankie’s apartment. Your gleamy, tired vision catches the streaks from passing cars and street lamps. You pull into a visitor parking spot and let out a disgruntled sigh as you sit in silence, waiting in your idling car.

A weird part of you is nervous. Overthinking. Was this taking it too far, helping him out while he’s sick?

You push aside any nerves and force yourself out of the car, a death grip on the doggy bag of food you had packed him. The evening Texas air tickles your bare legs, trying to adjust your uniform under your jacket after it got smushed around in the car. You buzz his number before you hear the entrance’s lock click, allowing you in.

Glancing around for an elevator is hopeless. The entrance leads you straight to a set of stairs, and you clench your jaw in annoyance. God dammit. You were not a woman who prayed to the cardio gods.

Your lungs feel strained, and your feet ache, desperate to sit down after your shift and the mild hike up to Frankie’s apartment. You rap your knuckles against his door in disdain, lips parted with a few light pants for breath as you wait. The door had a few random dents and marks, obvious trails of someone moving items in and out of the apartment over time. The numbers on his door were crooked, the paint chipped. Did he have to live in such a sketchy place? It looked like the birthplace of tetanus.

There were a few heavy footsteps on the other side before the door jangled open. And a very healthy, Frankie opened the door. Your face fell, and your eyebrows furrowed. A heavy whiff of weed smacked you in the face, and you swore it nearly gave you a contact high, even from the hallway.

Frankie was all too happy to see you here. You drove all the way to his apartment just to see him. His face was dripping in a smirky grin. He barely fit through the door frame, his large broad shoulders and tall stature filled the entire rectangular entrance. He crossed his arms and leaned one shoulder against his door. He was perfectly fucking fine.

“Hey, princess. Surprised to see you-”

Your lips purse and your eyes screw tight as you smack him with his bag of food. “What the hell-” smack, “is wrong with you! Fuckin-” smack, “asshole!”

He’s slow to defend himself at first, letting you exhaust your hits as you fist the brown paper bag in annoyance. Finally on the last hit, he swipes the bag from your hand and sighs. He’s trying to dial down his stupid smirk, but it ends up turning into this stomach-twisting, sweet smile.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and chew on the inside of your cheek. “Carla told me you were sick.”

“I am sick.” Frankie playfully defended, standing straight and shrugging his shoulders with a half-innocent smile. “Sick.. and tired of working.” He laughs at his own joke, and you bite back a smile. Such a fucking dork.

You’re at a weird standoff outside of his apartment. It’s like he’s holding your invitation to enter over your head, and out of your reach. He wants you to ask. You want him to ask. You’re both so goddamn stubborn. You cross your arms and stand straight, eyeing him down.

Frankie rolls his eyes, his smile breaking into a larger one as he grabs your wrist and pulls you inside. “So fuckin’ difficult.” You hide your smile as your face lightly glides against his chest, unintentionally inhaling his scent. By the looks of his hair, he was fresh from a shower.

Frankie closes the door behind you, and his front brushes against your back as you stand in the tiny entrance hallway to his apartment. Music was playing deeper inside.

His hands gently settle themselves on your arms, slowly coasting his warmth up and down your goosebump-covered skin. You inhale slowly, your back lightly resting back against his front. He was so easy to sink into. But then you remember how he bailed on work today, and you jut your elbow into his gut. He lets out a puff of air at the force you hit him with.

“You’re such an ass ditching work. Ditching Carla.” You say as you step away from him and invite yourself further in, exiting the dark hallway and working your way further into the apartment. “We had to make do-it-all Paul step into the kitchen. Do you know how terrifying that is? Such a dick, Frankie.”

“And you’re so sweet for bringin’ me food.” You hear him rifle through the paper bag, digging out his packaged food, and seeing him smile at the contents. “Thanks. You shouldn’t have.” He brushes past you and towards the kitchen while you stand in the living room.

You didn’t concern yourself much with Frankie up until recent events, it was odd to see his evil lair. Okay, he wasn’t evil, but you know what I mean. You take in as many important details as you can while you slowly peel off your jacket and toss it on his couch.

It’s quaint, really. He has no other furniture in the living room besides a couch, which you feel is by design. It sits perfectly opposite his mounted flatscreen. The walls are plain beige but are decorated with band and movie posters. You admire one that was purposely framed, unlike the others, with signatures. You didn’t recognize the band, but by their look, they seemed like an 80s rocker group.

Below his flatscreen was an impressive vinyl collection, a record spins, and you recognize it as the melody you initially heard upon entering. It was serene, jazzy almost.

“This is what you listen to when you’re alone?” You tease, kneeling down and flicking through a few album covers to see his taste. It was expansive, to say the least. There were only a fair few that you recognized. TOTO, ABBA, Billy Joel, Bruce Springsteen, Metallica, a little Van Halen, and a whole lot of The Beatles.

Frankie sucks the salt from the fries off his fingers, seeing he’s already munched on half his panini. “It’s something I listen to when I’m stoned.” He half-jokes, a slight smile on his face. So that’s what he’s been up to.

“You called in so you could lay around your apartment and get high all day?” Your tone is playfully judging, but he gives you a proud nod, not a care in the world behind those slightly glazed eyes.

“I didn’t really lay around all day.” His tone is softer since you’re both so close. He’s standing just to the right of where you’re kneeling down, your head could lay against his thigh if you wanted. “I was trying out some new recipes and shit.” He mutters as he points a thumb behind him and to the kitchen. You glance up and notice his pretty curls in the light. You don’t often see him without his hat or his bandana. Come to think of it, you don’t really see him outside of his yellow-stained apron.

Your eyes slowly took Frankie in, seeing him casually for the first time outside of work was startling. He was big. Tall and broad, with squishy thighs and a soft tummy, strong arms, and defined biceps. He was comfortably relaxing in a pair of black basketball shorts that landed just above his knees, eyeing a few tattoos by the hem. On his upper half was a tattered, well-loved Lakers shirt with a small tear at the shoulder, which has since been sewn closed. He had a little bracelet on, one of those leather brown ones that twisted around his wrist, accompanied by a spherical, multicolor beaded one.

Your eyes linger for a hair too long, and now he’s already smirking at you. “Like what you see, princess?” God, that stupid fucking nickname needed a break. Heat shoots up your spine nonetheless, and you have trouble staring daggers at him like you usually would.

You huff a breath through your nose and stand up on your feet, raising your eyebrow at him. “What do you mean you trying new recipes? You can actually cook?” It sounds rude and sarcastic, but you thought Frankie just goofed around at work and cooked for the cash, not as a hobby. You slowly make your way past him, eyeing his kitchen in the process.

There are recipe books, honest to god recipe books. Big ones, small ones. Different categories of food outlined on the covers and spines. And his kitchen was a chaotic mess, with multiple cutting boards of varying sizes across his already limited counter space. There were bright-colored vegetables cut up and diced, the scraps having been tossed in a spare plastic bag sitting on the sidelines. There was an open bottle of soy sauce and another for sesame oil, a little tin of cornstarch, and diced chicken sizzling in oil on a frying pan.

You take a few steps in further, your sneakers landing on linoleum as you really smell what’s simmering in a large skillet. Mushrooms, bell peppers, green onions, broccoli, and peas are cooking in a thick sauce, coating them amidst freshly minced garlic onion. Your lips part as you inhale, and you can’t believe it. You don’t even know what it is, but it smells heavenly.

You finally have to ask, because hunger is carving a hole in your stomach. “What are you making?”

Frankie parks his hands on his hips and looks at you with knitted eyebrows. “What? You’ve never had stir fry before?”

You purse your lips and reach for the spatula, looking to Frankie for reassurance, to which he nods his head. Go for it.

You smile as the vegetables sizzle once you push them around on the pan, relishing in the attention as you allow the other less glazed vegetables to catch some heat from the burner. Frankie hums, like he’s debating something, like he’s learned something from his little experimentation. He reaches past you, his front brushing against your shoulders as he reaches around you and adds a little brownish-amber liquid to the pan. It sizzles, splashes, and dances across the different vegetables, which makes you grin.

You were never big into cooking, especially since you started working at Tommy’s Diner. You’ve seen enough grease to last a lifetime. You were fine settling in on the couch with a bowl of cereal and a glass of cheap wine. You saved making extravagant dishes for when you had a date over, and even then, that was risky.

But there was something about Frankie actually knowing how to cook cuisine that you liked. “I didn’t know you knew how to make dishes besides burgers and fries.”

He sneers and rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling the entire time and lets you continue slowly shifting the vegetables around, watching as the glaze sizzles. “I didn’t know you cared enough about me to visit me at my apartment. We’re both a bit surprised tonight.” This was your worst nightmare.

“I only came here under the impression that you were sick-”

“So you came to my aid?”

“Psh,” You huff, “You wish. But no.” You insist more forcefully, setting the spatula down and turning to face Frankie, who is all too close to you. You lose a lot of your angry traction as his hand finds your hip, feeling his fingers flip to the stovetop’s burner switch to a lower setting.

His hands navigate you away from the oven, your back flushed against his counter now. His eyes trail you, grazing over your body as his hips now plant you in one spot. You swallowed a lump in your throat, your still resisting hands planting against his chest. You can feel his cock twitch against your thigh.

You can’t explain why your fingers twitch and start to clutch his shirt, pulling him a little closer. Stupid Frankie with his goading smirk, bringing his forehead down against yours. It was so hot in his kitchen, in the middle of summer. You feel a bead of sweat sprout behind your ear and lightly glide down your neck as you flutter your eyes closed. It wasn’t often you felt your power to resist him rendered useless, but tonight you felt like he had a quite literal home-field advantage.

“You want me to stop?” He asks, voice low and lust-drenched. His leg parts purposely between yours, jutting them open and spreading what was his.

Your throat is closed off, the lack of air draining from your busy head. “I..” Your words fall off, distracted by something scampering through the living room.

“Do you have a cat?” Your eyes light up as you slink past Frankie. He found your stray of attention a bit adorable, despite being given a slight case of blue balls.

You carefully padded out of the kitchen and into the living room, using the excuse to slip off your sneakers at the entrance. The small orange cat had curled up onto Frankie’s couch by your tossed jacket from earlier, forming a perfect circle amongst all of its tangerine fluff. Its eyes were closed serenely, absent of a new presence. It was fucking adorable, in short.

Frankie was still flummoxed in the kitchen, adding the cooked chicken into the stir fry before turning the burner off and putting his masterpiece aside. “That’s Leo.” He announces, Frankie’s voice carrying annoyance that he lost a sure thing in the kitchen. Now you were cooing over his cat.

He settles two bowls on the counter and adds the stir fry to each, a few splashes of the sauce splattering around the rim of the bowl. With two forks randomly stabbed into the piles of food, he walks one of them out to you. “Could have eaten this whole thing by myself.”

You smile, taking the offering and humming as you flop on the couch, the orange tabby finally peeking its eyes open. “I don’t doubt that, so thanks for sharing.” You recognize how he had eaten the panini and fries, and he was still excited over the stir fry. Poor guy probably had the munchies like crazy.

With the kitty taking up one of Frankie’s couch cushions, he’s forced on the end with you in the middle. He sets his food aside on a spare side table and reaches for a small pipe, your breath pausing at the sight. “You want a hit?” He asks.

His face glows orange as he flicks on the lighter, spreading the flame over the green, now black, substance in the tiny bowl. He inhales, and you watch in mystification as he takes in the smoke filtering through. Your heart thumps harder in your chest, the right side of your mouth twitching up in a sly smirk.

Let’s smoke weed with Frankie Morales tonight.

He lets out a labored breath, the smoke flying loosely in the air and creating hazy grey circles that flood the ceiling before disappearing altogether. The stench fills the small apartment rather quickly.

“I get really weird dreams after I smoke.” You whisper, biting down on your lower lip as you glance down at the pipe he’s holding, a small glow still coming from the weed.

“It’s still lit if you want some.” His voice is low from smoking, and you have to clench your thighs closer together. Damn this stupid uniform, you wished you would have brought a change of clothes so you’d at least be comfy eating stir fry, petting his cat, and getting stoned with him.

He raises the piece in an offering, and you look to him for one last look of reassurance. It’s polite to be offered free weed, especially since he’s the one who paid for it. He gives you a nod and looks at you with furrowed eyebrows. Are you crazy? If you want it, take it.

So you do. And you smoke it. And you pat yourself on the back to do so without coughing. It’s a small hit, but you don’t need much, your brain already feels like it’s as light as a cloud, dancing in slow motion. You giggle by accident.

Frankie lets out a sputter of laughter, watching you get high with him is a bit comical. “Princess knows how to smoke. Kudos.”

You let out a puff of laughter through your nose and grab your warm bowl of stir fry, stabbing into a green pepper. “Shut up, Frankie.”

He ends up putting on a show you both agree on, something comical that makes you both laugh your high asses off. You eat the stir fry and almost forget Frankie is the one who made it. It was delicious, you ate everything down the the finely chopped green onions.

You both shared another hit, and you felt like you were loosening up. Any need to hold onto control slipped through your fingers. Any issues you had been dealing with drifted away. And you realized how stupidly happy you were to be beside Frankie. Trying to do anything of actual initiative went out the window after your second hit. You both found yourselves on the floor of Frankie's room, sat side by side, heads resting on the edge of his bed as you both stared up at the ceiling and spoke gibberish.

“Aliens?” He asks, your thighs brushing.

“Of course.” You hum, slowly blinking in a gentle haze. “Ghosts?”

He sighs and takes a long time to answer, which apparently offends you because you snap your head up and look at him in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious. If you believe in aliens, you have to believe in ghosts.” You argue as you stare at his fan.

He lets out a throaty groan, closes his eyes, and runs his hands down his face. His curls are pretty. They haven’t been run through a million times yet or smothered by a bandana or hat.

“I think… I do believe in ghosts. I just don’t want them to bother me.” He says, a weak smile on his face.

“What? Like you’re afraid to be haunted?” Your head lays back on the bed but rolls over, watching his profile while he continues to look up absentmindedly at the ceiling.

He’s silent for far too long. Finally, he rolls his head over to face you, your noses lightly brushing. He’s so close that looking at him feels a bit cross-eyed.

“Wait- what? Sorry.” He finally says with a broken, short laugh.

“Can you focus?” You ask teasingly, pushing your hand up against his cheek and making him stop staring at you.

You take the soft silence as an opportunity to rest your hand lightly on his thigh. He does the same, except he feels the warmth of your skin and the material of your uniform. Goosebumps form shortly after, and you smile shyly up at the ceiling.

“Have you…” You start to say but trailed off, bashfulness overcoming you.

“Have I what?” He asks. You both blink slowly as a car’s lights flash through his window only for a few seconds, lighting up the dim room before it is filled with darkness again. The moon and an orange lava lamp was the only source of glow.

You distractedly look away from him, admiring a tapestry on his wall and his soft comforter. “Have you had sex with someone high?”

He shrugs and slowly smiles before gently nodding his head against the edge of his bed. “Yeah. Have you?” His head rolls over to look at you again. You feel his warm gaze, but you just keep your eyes locked on his ceiling fan.

Warmth and a subtle shyness flush across your chest, your thighs nearly trembling in excitement. “No.” You whisper.

He doesn’t say anything, but he watches you for a few moments.

“Want to, though.” You finish, feeling a knot slowly grow in your stomach.

Frankie’s eyes flick to your long lashes, then down to warmth creeping up your neck. “Yeah?” He asks.

You gently nod, too, eyes still too shy to meet his own. “Yeah-”

He doesn’t let you get out one more syllable. His large hand comes up and meets your cheek, guiding your head to meet his gaze.

Frankie kisses you deeply but at a slow pace. And you’re feeling a desperate hunger to have him. You eagerly cup his cheeks in return and swing a leg over his lap, intensifying the kiss as your hands glide down the landscape of his clothed chest, bunching up his shirt in the process. You feel like a horny jackrabbit, but it’s really all his fault. You can feel his half-hard cock as you grind the center of your pelvis over his own, whimpering into his mouth desperately.

“Take care of me,” you whisper, and it ends up sounding a little more like a desperate, whiney plea.

Frankie’s lips part against your own, feeling the neediness of your touches. His hazy vision peers open, breaking your kiss for a moment.

“Hold on, baby,” He sits up a little bit against the bed, his eyes scanning yours with a certain deepness.

You pause, your chest heaving lightly as you regain your breath. “Frankie, come on, don’t make me beg.” You say as you lean in once more, but he catches your face and pauses your movements. You feel like a deer in headlights, static tingling in your ears as you feel a sudden rush for embarrassment. Why wasn’t he just as excited? Or eager? Or desperate? Were you the problem?

Suddenly, your eyes were dashing around for an escape. Then he speaks your name. Soft, gentle, careful. Hear him out. You swallow your pride and stay seated over his lap.

You can’t help but let an awkward chuckle escape between you, eyes having a hard time meeting his. You playfully scoff and smack his shoulder lightly to regain a sense of control. “Shut up, Frankie.”

His head cocks, and he looks at you with that stupid fucking smirk. “You don’t know how to take it slow, do you?”

His words antagonize you, and your eyes light with fire. A defensive fire, because he was right.

Slow meant feelings, slow meant experiencing, slow meant bonding. You weren’t slow. Sex was supposed to be fast, hot, desperate, counting down the seconds until a sweet escape, racing to an orgasm, chasing it like a fever dream. You weren’t good at slow.

You hate that Frankie has learned this about you. Giving up the upper hand wasn’t in your caliber. And you find yourself frowning as you look down at him once his smirk washes away. He’s looking at you like he cares. Even with you both stoned, brain’s hazy and light, he sees through all that and looks at you like he gives a damn.

He lightly shrugs his shoulders and softens the hold he has on your face, his thumb gently stroking along your cheekbone. “Can show you.”

Hesitancy screams across your blank face, but he reads you better than anyone else. He speaks your name, more genuinely explaining his offer. “Let me teach you.”

You let out a gentle sigh, slowly giving in to temptation. Because having him at all was better than not. So you take it slow. Frankie teaches you zen. Teaches you how to melt.

One of his hands falls from your cheek and lands on your waist, gently stroking your hip in a soothing slow circle. It feels like heaven.

His brown orbs dip close, and you let him take the lead. He kisses you tenderly, soft. His tongue lines your lower lip once he’s ready to lightly increase the intensity, begging your mouth for permission to part. If it was any other night, your tongue would be down his throat, and you’d be a grinding, sloppy mess in his lap. Let him teach you.

You take a deep breath in as your tongues tangle.

It almost makes you giggle again, because it feels stupid, but you sort of like it.

His stubble brushes your face, and you fight to release a moan. Frankie’s hand on your hip shuffles to your lower back, and you feel him add pressure. Your chest meets his, and you let yourself melt into him. His strong torso easily keeps you both up. Your heavy breaths hit the room, and you force yourself to pull away for air, despite how much you enjoy making out with him. He grins at the sight of satisfying you.

Frankie pushes a stray hair that’s fallen out from your loose ponytail behind your ear, smiling as his hands move to the back of your uniform. This will be the first time he actually undresses you properly, not just shoving the material up past your ass so he has access to your pussy.

“You know how to work the zipper?” You playfully ask as you settle your head on his shoulder, taking the slower moments to breathe and relax.

He stuffs down a chuckle and nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I think so. Am I doing it right?” He asks as he guides the zipper down your back, feeling your flesh exposed to the rest of his room.

You purse your lips and slowly sit up in his lap, watching him take in a deep inhale as your centers brush lightly. You hide your coy smile as his eyes light with excitement, but he’s made a point to be slow with you. You guide the sleeves of your uniform down to your hips, exposing your breasts to him. Giggles leave your mouth as you wiggle out the last bit of your dress, Frankie is more than happy to help you.

“I’m feeling a little alone here.” Your voice is soft, tugging at his shirt before you push it up just past his pecs. Your high ass got a little distracted, staring at the hair sprinkled in dark trails across his torso, feeling him struggle in his shirt as he laughed.

“Focus, princess,” his arms tangle with his shirt before he tosses it off, especially since you started slacking. You shyly smile and flutter your eyes down to his warm body as your hands explore the landscape for the first time. You had yet to undress each other like this, you sort of liked it, especially with this whole slow and steady thing going for you both.

Frankie leans back against the bed, admiring the sight before him. You feel a little awkward, goosebumps rushing up your arms as you shyly smile and playfully push his face away. “Stop staring, perv. You’ve never seen a pair of tits before?”

He’s quick. “Not a pair that nice.”

You smile and crack out a laugh, knowing sex has never felt this casual before. No pressure. Good vibes. And it’s not just because of the weed. It’s because it’s Frankie. And he looks at you like you put the sun in the sky and you could do no wrong. But then he starts staring at your tits, and you realize he’s just another guy.

His hands caress your waist, thumbs dipping into the curves and appreciating the way they run up you like beautiful rivers. You decide to do the same. Your hands slip lower, letting his happy trail guide you to his black mesh basketball shorts. His rough and calloused hands cup your tits, taking them in his palms and giving you a tentative squeeze. He’s figuring you out, what you like, what makes you squirm and whine. As soon as he pinches your nipples between his thumbs and pointer fingers, a broken gasp is elicited from your mouth.

“Shit,” you curse breathily. Everything was a bit heightened right now, including your sensitivity. It felt like a million little strums were being played, making your spine shiver and your head grow foggy. And you were determined to make him feel the same way.

You bite down on your lower lip, fishing your hand into his shorts and fisting a hand around his already hardening cock. A smirk tangles on your lips as he lets out an earthy grunt, low to the ground and heaven to your ears.

You start a bit fast, eager to please, wanting to see him tremble for your touch.

His lips meet yours in a distracting manner, rocking your steady pace. “Slow.” He murmurs against your lips, and you gently nod, a shy smile spreading from embarrassment.

“Slow.” You whisper, your lips brushing his. Your ego trips on the power you have over him, fisting him, his heavy length weighing in your hand. You couldn’t even fully wrap your fingers around him, he was all just… girth. Your body ached for him, needy for the feeling only he could satisfy by being inside of you. His tip trickles with precum, and a low moan drips off his tongue like honey. It fuels you.

“Spit on my cock, princess.” He grunts out, his face leaning in to capture one of your nipples in your mouth. You squeak lightly in excitement before doing just as he asks of you.

You angle your head over your centers, letting a long line of saliva puddle down onto him. It meets the strokes of your hand, and Frankie’s jaw twitches as he squeezes your breasts involuntarily harder. You let out a long whine as your nipples form peaks between his fingers, feeling your heart thrum against your chest.

Frankie likes how you look on top. Back arched, chest pushed up, messy hair falling loose, eyes lit with an eagerness and curiosity for him to teach you the method of going slow. Admiration mixed with respect. He feels like he’s dreaming.

All he can imagine is you like this, bodies in sync, riding his cock. Tight walls milking his cock for everything he has. His skin becomes riddled with goosebumps, thinking about your nails digging into his chest, your tits rocking up and down, how he would tumble out moans of your name and squeeze your hips with adoration. Yeah, he’d like to see that one day.

He’s not sure how much longer he can last with merely your hand on him.

“C’mere, baby.”

A gasp of surprise jumps from your throat before you can stop it, Frankie managing to stand up off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist for security. His strength, how easily he lifts you and shuffles you around like a ragdoll spurs white hot heat in your stomach. You were going to fuck him good if you ever got past the going slow part.

His smirky mouth meets yours in a hot kiss, one heavier than before. Like he’s needy for you. Your eyes melt closed as your fingers wind into the pretty curls that were formed at the nape of his neck. Your back meets his mattress and blankets, your fingers dance along the pattern, your high mind hypnotized seeing Frankie on top of you.

His body rests between your parted legs. You whimper into his mouth, feeling his hardened cock resting against your core.

“Take my fucking panties off,” you beg more than you mean to.

Frankie tries not to sneer. His teeth capture your lower lip, and you mewl out a moan before he lets you go.

“To hell with going slow.”

You hastily nod, feeling his fingers grip your panties at either side of your hips before he shuffles them down. You whine with how the sticky center stays latched to your core, he gently peels it loose with a hellish smirk.

Frankie’s heart thrums against his chest and echoes into his ears. Hearing you desperate for his touch was heaven, he felt undeserving to have such an angel vying for his attention. “So wet f’me, barely touched you, princess.”

He discards your panties to the side, off on the floor with the rest of the clothing you both have shed. You’re completely naked together, makes you a little nervous.

Frankie promised to speed up, but you’re finding harmony in the way his soft lips trail down your body, leaving wet prints between the valley of your breasts to the soft skin of your stomach. Your breaths come out heavier, thighs shaking as he drops back down to kneel at the edge of the bed. His hands grip your thighs and yank you impatiently closer to his eager mouth. You whimper as your body is shuffled closer, your fists that were clutching the sheets being torn away.

You giggle as your thighs shake around his head, feeling those perfect kisses move between the warmth of your legs.

“Fuck,” you finally let out, excitement seeping through your bones. Frankie’s stubble drags across the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, and again, you feel that heightened sensitivity that makes your stomach roll.

Frankie decides that dragging out the teasing is enough. He wanted to taste you, every mile, every inch, every centimeter.

Your core glistens in his eyeline, begging to be touched, kissed, fucked. He can’t help but dive in. His dopey brown eyes meet yours as his face disappears lower and lower before he’s past the valley of your tits, and all you can see when you crane your neck are those mocha brown eyes.

His tongue tastes you, and divides your folds, as he laps up your juices.

The feeling is exhilarating, like the rise and fall of a roller coaster.

A gasp riddles its way up through your throat, concaves your chest, and your pupils blow wide in excitement. Frankie enjoys your taste but aims to pleasure. His mouth latches onto your sensitive clit and suckles, his tongue intervening every few swipes to flick across your clit. Rise.

His large hands grip the outside of your thighs, pinning your lower half to his mattress, and lapping over you in a heated race to the finish line. Your face contorts in pleasure, fingers drifting down your stomach before you wind them in Frankie’s hair. He growls against your pussy, you’ve never felt your blood pump faster. Fall.

“Fucking- Christ,” you push out, gripping his hair strands tighter and making him grunt hot heat against your core. “Feels so fucking good- oh my god,”

He pulls away for a breath and sucks a love bite into the sensitive flesh of your thigh until it swells pink and purple. One of his hands on your outer thighs wraps around the shell of your body, playing with your clit. He slowly shakes his head as he looks at you. You wonder if he shares your hazy vision. The pleasure makes you feel like you’re seeing double.

“Christ isn’t making you feel good,” his words make you whimper, “I am.”

You quickly nod, but you realize your body can’t move quickly under the influence. You’re just hazily bobbing your head, your hand in his hair dropping to his strong bicep.

“Frankie, I need you,” you plead as you gently sit up on your elbows and cup his cheek, wiping your glistening slick off his pretty bottom lip. “Need you inside of me.” You whisper, a desperate look splashed across your face.

You hated how much power he had over you. He almost just made you cum from playing with your clit. You need him biblically, fully, flesh and blood, blood to bone. It was carnal, primal.

He doesn’t need much further convincing. Frankie preferred to pull an orgasm from going down on you, but he listened to your needs and what you wanted.

His lips meet yours in a hungry kiss, working you further up the bed and letting you collapse into his pillows. Your eyes catch the sight of a dream catcher while his tongue tangles with yours. You flush at the taste of your own arousal. That’s when you realize his hand is still between your thighs and working soothing circles into your clit.

You whimper as he adds a tad bit more pressure, and you feel the white-hot heat of adrenaline making your stomach pool even more excitement into your tummy.

“Frankie,” you whisper softly, and his forehead rests over yours while he guides his shaft to your center.

He lines his tip up and down between your folds, your jaw dropping as he sickeningly uses your slick to lube himself. He lets his entire shaft rest against your sex, and he does slow thrusts back and forth, lining his entire cock with you. Holy fuck. A shiver was sent up your spine, goosebumps parading across your body.

Your chest swelled for him.

“What do you say?” He asks in a taunt, knowing how weak you are.

You huff and move your hands up his arms and hang them loosely around his shoulders. He complies in moving in closer.

“Please.” You finally admit between gritted teeth, which makes him grin.

“Alright, princess,” his forehead now rests against your temple, cocking his chin down to get a better angle of your centers. He guides his tip to your entrance, slow and patient, before he notches himself inside of you.

Your eyelashes flutter, and you watch as his eyes clench closed. He likes to act all tough like he wouldn’t fold for you, but you know he would time and time again without having to say more than a simple please.

Both of you share unsteady breaths. It feels like a dam is giving way inside your chest.

Frankie thinks how he has never been inside a tighter pussy, squeezing the last bits of air from his lungs.

Your walls pulsate around the intrusion, but your dripping core and his wet tongue from earlier allowed him to slowly push in, inch by inch.

You swallow a lump in your throat. You don’t realize your eyes are closed, and you're gripping him around the neck to keep him close until he sponges a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Alright?” He forces out. It’s like you’re choking him, and it makes you twitch up a smile.

“Mhm,” you muster up, feeling his chest rumble lightly with laughter.

“Baby,” he whispers, and your chest surges at the pet name. “Can’t breathe.” Oh, shit. You damn near had him in a headlock.

You loosen your grip around his neck, shyly smiling as your desperate hands look for something to ground you.

Frankie stays flushed inside you but shifts to be more centered over your body, gently resting his forehead just above yours.

“C’mere,” he whispers before he takes your hands. You decide not to question why he interlocks your fingers. But it feels safe, and you’re still high, so you’ll blame any poor decision-making on that.

“Fuck me,” you finally grit out, desperate for him to just fucking, “Move.”

Your whine is met by him reeling back his hips, only for him to plow right back into you at an unforgiving rate. A gasp ripples through your throat, and you feel like screaming. Your entire goddamn body was on fire with the way his girth parted your walls, splitting you open. You let out a string of whimpery moans, and your eyes glared desperate daggers into him.

“S’what you wanted, right?” He grunts out, jaw tight, pretty curls falling limply in front of his eyes and crowding his forehead. “You wanna be fucked hard, is that it?” He can barely speak authoritatively, you’re squeezing him like your last lifeline.

But he’s right. Tears cloud your vision, and you weakly nod as desperate puffs of air leave your pretty parted lips. “Yes,” you squeak out, relaxing your hips so Frankie falls into you more.

“Feels so fucking good, can’t-” An eager cry leaves your lips as he pulls himself out, just to thrust right back in and rocking you further up his bed. Your chin tips to the ceiling as you curse every god, man, woman, whoever the hell created Frankie Morales.

“Can’t what, princess?” His tone is lower, sinister even as your walls twitch around him but only gush out more arousal for his cock to slide in and out of you.

You find it hard to string together syllables. So he squeezes your hands that you’re holding for dear life. He stills inside of you until you answer.

“Shit,” you whimper.

“Can’t what, angel?” He probes again, cocky asshole waiting for his answer.

You whimper and peek open your eyes. The right side of his face is highlighted silver from the moon, your hazy vision thinks he looks like an angel. His hand wanders between your centers and finds your throbbing clit, making you cry out the answer. Your face crumbles as you own up to what you need to say.

“Fuck! Fuck, Frankie! Can’t go without your dick,” you pant out as he subtly rocks into you at a good pace upon your confession. “Can’t even go- can’t even go a week without it,” you admit in defeat.

That stupid, cocky smirk of his graces his parted lips. It’s crooked and perfect, and he’s fucking you like your life depends on it. Because it does, you think.

His thighs clap against your ass, pounding you into the bed, drilling you into place, suffocating the air from your lungs.

Your vision goes hazy, seeing white, then rainbow, then stars. They cloud your vision, and you’re not sure if you’re still high off the weed anymore. Or just high off Frankie.

You whimper strings of his name tangled with profanity, he’s still filling you to the brim. It once seethed hot with pain, but now your stomach is contorting in pleasure. It’s like he knows exactly how to crack your vault, penetrating your walls, unlocking something deep inside of you that no one else manages to know the code.

His messy fingers continue to circle your clit, and you know your end is coming.

Frankie’s grunting with every thrust, moaning a symphony of your name every chance he gets. He likes holding your hand, resting his sweaty forehead against your own, listening to you beg for his cock, for your finish. It’s the only thing he wants to give you. He’d be at your every beck and call if you let him. He wouldn’t mind if the only thing he ever got was a fraction of your praise.

Frankie’s thighs clap against your ass, the sound echoes around his bedroom. If his neighbors didn’t know his name, they did now.

“Fuck! Frankie!” You cry out, feeling every inch of his cock massage your insides. His tip kisses your cervix, and your jaw drops. Nothing more comes out of your mouth, so your blown-out eyes do all the talking.

I’m so fucking close.

“I know, baby, feels good, doesn’t it?” He grunts as his balls slap against you. “Feels good having my fat fucking cock inside you, huh?”

You shake under him, your thighs clench around his hips, and you pray to the gods for making Frankie. You take back what you thought before, you need him.

You don’t care that he’s a little older, that he’s an asshole, that he eggs you on.

Because in the shelter of his bedroom, locked in your embrace, he swallows your name and persuades you into pleasure, time and time again.

Your clit tingles, and your walls furiously clench around him. Finally, your mouth finds words to try and elaborate on what you’ve been holding inside.

“Fucking- shit! Fuck me harder, right there- fuck me, Frankie! God- I’m coming!” You cry out as his pants fill your space, fanning across your face. He fucks you harder and faster as you near your orgasm, wanting to help you reach it. And he gets you there.

Your back arches, and he groans lowly as he stills inside of you. It’s almost beautiful the way you cum in unison.

Your hands hold his tighter, and he reciprocates by squeezing gently. I’m right here, I’m here, baby.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, still. Your hips get a little achy. He feels you twitch and knows it's time to let you go.

A gentle whimper leaves you as he pulls out. You feel a bit empty, a little cold.

His sweet laughter makes you peek open your eyes. He’s trying to move out from around you, but you haven’t let go of his hands.

You shyly let go, and both of you squeeze your hands to flex the knotted muscles and stiff knuckles. You close your legs and lightly curl up. He doesn’t come to rest, he gently pats your outer thigh once or twice before he disappears to his bathroom.

You think he couldn’t have been gone for more than thirty seconds, but he comes back in a fresh pair of boxers and his basketball shorts, his tanned torso still exposed for your viewing.

“Frankie,” he pauses like a deer in headlights as he stands up from grabbing your panties. “I’m gonna… spill.” You finally pitch out, a bit embarrassed.

“Oh,” he says, feeling like an idiot. He circles back to the bathroom and grabs a towel and a wet washcloth.

“Sorry, my brain is all-” he starts to say, but you quickly shake your head.

“I know me too. S’okay.” You whisper with a smile as you weakly sit up on your elbows. The record playing in the living room had stopped. He shimmies the towel under your hips before he aids you with a clean washcloth.

Feels too domestic, so you take over, much to his annoyance. You wrap yourself in the towel once you’re done, and sit up to retrieve your uniform. You dread putting it on.

“Can I take the towel for the way home? My underwear is still too..” you trail off. Soaking wet was the words you would have used.

Frankie’s face screws up in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together.

“You’re going home?”

Now your expressions match. “Yeah?” It sounds more like a guess than a statement. “What else would I do?”

Frankie shifts back and forth on his feet before he sits down beside you on the bed. “Dunno. Stay here.”

You take in a hesitant breath, and he feels it. “You shouldn’t drive home, you know. You’re stoned. And tired. Don’t need you falling asleep at the wheel or some shit.”

You frown. Staying here does sound nice. Thinking about going down those five flights of stairs with your jelly legs sounds like a walk to hell.

But there’s a certain rule about sleeping over. One you don’t want to cross. You and Frankie are just fooling around. Nothing more.

“I don’t know, Frankie.” You say with a small frown, tightening the towel around you even more. His sullen look deepens at your words. He doesn’t want to overly convince you. If you want to go, he doesn’t want to stand in your way.

You chew on your bottom lip and weigh your options. You don’t want to go down the stairs. You’re tired as fuck, and you don’t want to get pulled over or something else. And you really don’t want to put your uniform back on. And you want to stop trying to put issues in your own way when you really just want to stick around. But the decision is made for you.

“Stay.”

Your eyes meet his. He’s more certain now, going after what he wants.

“Stay the night, it won’t kill you. I’ll get you something more comfortable to wear, and you can just…” he trails off and shrugs.

“Stay?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. He nods.

You sigh loudly but inevitably smile as you point to his closet. “I need a shirt. Please.”

A big smile glides across his face, and you can’t believe you’re the one who put it there.

“Alright, princess, whatever you say.” He squeezes your thigh and stands up, his back to you as he fishes through his closet and smells a few shirts to see how clean they are.

You roll your eyes and sigh as you fall back into his pillows.

You change into something clean, you hope it’s clean, and end up curling into a protective ball under his covers.

His cat, Leo, circles up by your feet, and you coo, gently stroking the pretty fur along his back. Frankie retrieves two glasses filled with water and hands you one. You instantly take a few gulps before your hand gently strokes down the shirt he’s put you in. It swims a bit on you, but you like it. The hem hangs at your thighs.

“Can you get in here?” You ask impatiently. “M’getting chilly.” You whisper with a coy smile.

Frankie blows out a few candles in his living room and finishes putting away any leftover stir fry.

Your high has worn off, and now you’re just a sleepy little thing. A long shift plus getting railed would be your new nighttime sleep aid.

Now that the apartment is drenched in darkness, he pulls back the covers and moves in beside you. Cuddling was not an option. He spoons you, yanking you halfway across the bed and out of your little ball. His warm flesh meets your back, and you hum at the feeling. He was a furnace. His head settles above yours, you feel the stubble gently poke at your hair. Your eyes are already closed as his arm wraps around your waist, an affirming hand settling on your tummy. He must need skin-to-skin contact because his hand slips under the shirt he’s put on you and settles on the warm skin by your belly button.

You let out a short little laugh. “You do this with all the girls you sleep with?”

“No.” He quickly says, and your eyes peek open.

“No?” You ask curiously.

“No. Just all my coworkers I sleep with.” You roll your eyes and reach around to slap the back of your hand against his hip, forcing out a chuckle from him.

“M’kidding.” He somehow pulls you closer. Your head rests comfortably on his bicep, the cold tip of your nose warmed by his flesh.

Questions pour out of your stupid brain. Were you the only one he was sleeping with? If you weren’t, who else was there? Was this normal to him, cuddling after a friends-with-benefits situation? Did Frankie want something more?

You sigh and close your eyes, attempting to shut off your brain as your finger lazily draws shape on his forearm.

He murmurs a goodnight against the shell of your ear. You blame how happy and comfortable you are right now on his cat. And it somewhat makes you feel better. You never pictured falling asleep beside your coworker, let alone Frankie Morales.

Sleep eventually overcomes you. You dream of Frankie sitting in a bowl of stir fry like a hot tub.

---

here's my masterlist!

follow hellishfics and turn on notifications to see the next time I update!

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #fuck yeah frankie #francisco morales #catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales

452 notes · View notes

ikinremu · 9 months

Text

|| Nsfw || R U mine? || Tommy Shelby

Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

A jealous Tommy smut oneshot! Please feel free to request oneshots/drabbles/blurbs on my page :)

The glare of Tommy's eyes punctured your chest, shooting through you like the spear of a dart. Usually this gaze you'd been subjected to would set your heart racing - but today was rather different. You peered across the well-lit hall, an idea suddenly sparking in your mind. Your relationship with Thomas Shelby was exceptionally complicated - that was no secret, though earlier that morning, said relationship had crossed a bump in the road. It was a simple situation - he'd pissed you off. And in this moment, you knew exactly how to return the favour.

If there was one thing to note about Thomas Shelby - it was that with a substantial amount of provoking, his jealousy could defy the scale. You knew that like the back of your hand, and had no shame in using it for your own petty games.

You ambled through the throngs of people, passing figures adorning silk dresses, waistcoats and suits as you approached the bar. To your delight, a familiar face loomed behind the polished, wooden island, bottles arranged on the collection of shelves behind the man. You took it upon yourself to perch atop one of the vacant bar stools, swivelling the copper plating slightly as you adjusted yourself to a suitable position.

"Frankie?!" You lifted your lips into a graceful smile, the barman flickering his gaze away from the stained cloth bunched between the hooking of his knuckles - looking to inspect who had called for him.

"Oh, hello!" He chuckled, his thick, untamed brows raising ever so slightly, "Fancy seeing you 'ere"

"Tommy brought me." You spoke, the mention of his name prompting you to send a swift glance in his direction. And as you'd suspected - more so planned - his focus was completely set on you. "And.. you too, I thought you strictly worked at the Garrison?"

As Frankie began spluttering out a rather tedious monologue about how he 'wouldn't miss an event like this..', you allowed a wave of smugness to wash over you.

Tommy hated Frankie, he utterly detested the man. You were unsure as to why, always had been, but you certainly knew it was a long lasting affair. You'd never cared to get involved in what you viewed as such a minor situation - this very moment finding you particularly grateful for your lack of interest.

"But anyway, can I get you somethin?" The barman's voice suddenly snapped you back into the room, dark eyes briskly wandering across your person.

"I'll just have a French seventy-five please." You requested, sporting a sweet smile as Frankie nodded in response.

"Coming right up."

As your view alternated from the front of his waistcoat to the back, you turned your head to scan for Tommy's whereabouts - though this time it wasn't so simple. All you could truly see was some rather eloquent looking groups making small talk beneath the hall's chandelier.

Before you knew it, the man responsible for completely baffling you was stood directly to your right.

"Tommy." You beamed, presenting a weak attempt at concealing your self-acclaimed victory.

"We best be off." He spoke, the low tones of his voice snaking into your ear, "Something needs takin care of at the Garrison."

Internally, you called very obvious bullshit - however, externally you found yourself willingly demounting the copper plated stool.

"Bye Frankie, we've gotta leave!" You exclaimed, briefly eyeing the sight of the man turning to face you - looking somewhat disheartened. He offered a rather idle wave, granting himself a sip of what would've been your beverage.

The sound of Tommy's muffled disapproval lingered aside your ear as the two of you exited the hall - his fingers still tightly clutching your lower arm. The pair of you took a sharp turn, a sleek door swinging open, soon clanking against the doorframe as it trapped you inside.

It wasn't so much a room you'd arrived in, more so an ill-lit cupboard.

"Garrisons had a redo, has it?" You mimicked curiosity, apparently nowhere close to amusing the man stood before you.

Tommy's piercing eyes returned to you, shooting a warm buzz down your body.

Mere seconds passed of you awaiting the gruff tone of his voice, but instead you met a significantly different form of response from his lips.

His callous hands went to cup your jaw, lips intertwining with your own in a deep, messy kiss. In a rather instinctive sense, you melted into the embrace, his tongue snaking a path between your lips.

Without breaking contact, Tommy stepped forward, surrendering you to a fairly harsh bump against the wall. His left palm weaved it's way down your silk-clad stomach, sneaking it beneath the gentle ruffles of the dress he'd treated you to. He reached the now sodden fabric of your underwear as his lips pressed further against your own, his nimble fingers beginning to trace supple circles around your pulsing clit.

"This what you wanted, eh?" He grunted, softly nibbling the skin of your ear.

You nodded, an arch hollowing out between your back and the wall supporting it. A whimper escaped your throat as you helplessly sank into the feeling of your panties being dragged down your legs.

"Off." Tommy huffed, pitch pupils sending a clear signal in the direction of your black dress.

Before you knew it, any previous cover of yours had been wholly discarded, leaving your body shamelessly bare - Tommy being a single garment away from matching your state. His underwear was shortly hauled down and tossed away, releasing the sight of his erect cock.

"On your fuckin knees." He grumbled, gently tilting his chin towards the polished flooring.

His words alone had the power to intoxicate you - and weren't afraid to do precisely that. A roaring flame couldn't help but ignite in your lower abdomen, tantalising your growing arousal as you kneeled before him.

The intense wetness of the earlier kiss transferred from the plumpness of your lips to Tommy's tip with a single connection. Pushing your lips further, his cock slid down your throat with one swift motion, the sweet warmth of your mouth wrapping his length.

"Such a good cocksucker, int' that right?" He taunted, words parted by the vibrations of his low groans.

You began sliding your now dripping mouth up and down his shaft, finding the perfect rhythm as his throbbing tip slapped the damp surface of your tongue. Now presented with enough slickness, your soft hands began trailing teasing strokes over his erection.

"Get up." He instructed, watching as your brows contorted into a rather notable furrow. "Up."

At the repetition, you complied - taking a puzzled stand.

The familiarity of Tommy's large hands gripped your behind, beginning to grope the smooth flesh as the two of you took a collective fall against one of the chipping walls.

"Spread your legs for me." The heat of his breath tickled your neck, his mouth trailing sloppy, open-mouth kisses down your clavicle. The split second of your legs parting, Tommy somehow bridged the minute gap between you.

His cock pushed into you, your own drool serving as a lubricant as he filled your tight hole in the most pleasing way - the pair of you slipping sharp moans at the sensation.

As he marked his first thrust, a burning desire seeping through you, Tommy suddenly buried his now reddened face between your exposed breasts. His hips began relentlessly bucking, increasing in several factors as his hot tongue flicked at your hardening, left nipple.

"Fuck!" A breathy whine fled your mouth. It took no longer than a second for his leaking tip to locate the importance of your sweet spots, hard length slamming deeper into the mess of your dripping arousal. His moistened lips nibbled at your pebbling nipple, licking tender circles around the areola.

"Frankie couldn't have you like this, could he? Eh?" Tommy grumbled, detaching his assault on your left nipple.

And there was the jealousy.

"He couldn't fuck you like I do." He punctuated his words with a gloriously deep buck of his hips. "You're mine, mm?"

"Shit!" You moaned, the next words reducing to the simplicity of panting. "I'm yours, only yours. I only want you Tommy.."

A familiar sensation possessed the very pit of your stomach, the beginning of a euphoric release winding itself up.

"I'm getting close." You whimpered, pearly teeth digging into the thin layer coating your bottom lip. Your tight hole pulsed at a rigorous pace, soaking walls clenching around him.

"Fuck, with the way you're squeezing me, so am I." Tommy groaned, pounding deeper into your sopping cunt.

The alluring knot within your stomach expanded, winding tighter and tighter until you felt your arousal peak. The orgasm tore through you, the heavenly sensations transporting you to a whole different realm as you called out - the volume of it taking yourself aback.

"You gonna let everyone know how good i'm fuckin you?" Tommy's pinkish lips curved into that ever so familiar cocky smirk, delivering one final thrust as you felt a warm inflation spread within you.

Your head lolloped atop Tommy's shoulder, strands of your now completely disgruntled hair flopping over with a sense of accompaniment. Placing a gentle peck on your lips, Tommy slid out of you - a rare smile on his face.

You return the soft nature of his expression, "Oh and I think everyone got the message."

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! As I said, please feel free to use the requests/asks feature on my page - it’d be greatly appreciated <3

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders smut #tommy shelby smut #smutty #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby smut

414 notes · View notes

ckret2 · 3 months

Text

Chapter 35 of human Bill Cipher is still prisoner of the Mystery Shack and still handcuffed to Stan in spite of their mutual irritation: we return to them under attack by the tooth fairy and her dentist lackey.

In light of this terrible peril, Bill and Stan put aside their differences, politely agree to cooperate, and work together maturely to deal with the threat—

Haha I'm kidding, no they're screaming the most offensive things they can think of at each other.

####

Packed in a dark cluttered closet, trying not to breathe too much of the same air as Bill, under the sound of the dentist mauling his way through the bedroom door, Stan growled, "Okay, genius—do you actually have a plan for when we get downstairs?"

Bill had hooked his borrowed umbrella over his elbow to let him rummage through the closet's contents. Trying to keep his voice low, he said, "We can take the fairy ring down to the guest room and make a run for the exit in the floor room." His eyes lit up with delight. "Hey! Vintage congressman top hat!" He sniffed it. "It still smells like Quentin and peanut brittle." He put on the hat.

Eugh. Stan found himself glad he couldn't see in the dark. "Why the floor room? It's a lot faster to just cut through the living room to the gift shop."

Bill hesitated. "Sure. Fine—"

"What's the matter, Bill, you got a problem with the living room?"

"What?" Bill scoffed. "Of course not. I said fine. It's fine!" He found a large baggie full of teeth, popped it open and licked one to confirm they were real, and stuck the bag under his new hat.

"But it took you a second," Stan said. "If we head for the living room, you won't slow us down by trying to go the other way, will you?"

"Of course not," Bill repeated. It was a little less convincing than the last time. "I was just—trying to figure out if that was the fastest way—"

"Oh, really," Stan pressed. "You sure you aren't scared to go in there with me?"

Bill whipped around to stare at Stan in the dark.

"You think I haven't noticed how you bolt out of the living room any time I come in?" Stan asked. "Or how you flinch every time I raise my hand?"

Bill swallowed hard. "I don't know what you're talking about." He chuckled derisively. "I think you're fantasizing, Stan—"

"Do you really think I don't remember how you died."

Bill's voice caught in his throat. "You said..."

"Yeah, I wanted to see what kind of story you'd make up. You just can't stop talking down to me even when you know it's all lies," Stan said. "As if I'd ever forget seeing you on your knees, begging me for mercy, while I shattered your face like a cheap mirror—"

Bill shoved Stan against one wall, small hands wrapped ineffectively around his throat. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Admit it!" Stan shoved Bill against the opposite wall; Bill tripped and landed heavily on a cardboard box. "Admit that I killed you too! I played just as much a part in it as he did!"

"You did not kill me!" Bill stood on the box, even as it threatened to collapse under his weight, so he could scream in Stan's face, "You couldn't have killed me! I'M NOT CAPABLE OF BEING KILLED BY SOMEONE LIKE YOU!"

"THEN WHY ARE YOU AFRAID OF ME?!"

"I'M NOT AFRAID—"

An enormous drill bit pierced the wood between their faces. Bill and Stan screamed.

Just on the other side of the door, Pearl cried, "Careful! Don't hit the girl's teeth!"

Stan snarled, "You moron, look what you—!"

"You started it!" Bill pounded on the door. "Hey! Frankie! Is this worth it?!" He jumped back as the drill came through again, just in front of his sternum. It grazed Stan's bicep; he roared in pain. Bill shouted, "Was paying off your dental school loans worth this? Do you wanna be a murderer, kid?!"

"I can't stop now!" Dr. Illing was audibly sobbing. "You don't understand, I'm in too deep!" The drill pierced again, widening the hole he'd already started.

"If you think she's scary, you can't imagine what I've got—"

Stan clapped a hand on Bill's shoulder hard enough to make him jump; but he growled in Bill's ear, "Count of three."

Bill hesitated, squinting at Stan's future to see what he was planning; but nodded. "Fine." He didn't understand the purpose but he could copy the motion.

Stan put his hand on the doorknob. "One, two..." Bill squeezed his eyes shut. They slammed their shoulders against the door, Stan grunting in pain. Dr. Illing's drill caught in the wood, and they kept shoving it open, jamming the dentist between the door and the wall. Bill leaned against the wood with his full weight to keep Dr. Illing trapped, using his new umbrella to swat away the fairy buzzing in his face. Stan toppled an old fortune telling machine in front of the door to pin it in place.

Pearl barked, "You're useless, Frank!" She had drawn out a wand that looked like a metallic blue toothbrush and was aiming it at Bill's face. "I'll get those teeth myself if I have to!"

Wheezing through crushed lungs, Dr. Illing said, "But the treaty—"

"What treaty?!" From five feet away, she fired a bolt of mint white magic at Bill's horrified face.

Stan seized Bill's umbrella, opened it, and deflected the spell. It ricocheted off the umbrella and punched a flaming hole through the ceiling. From behind this temporary shield, Bill took out the teeth bag and flung a handful across the room.

Pearl gasped, abandoning Dr. Illing to dart after them. "Babies! I didn't hurt you, did I?!" Huh. More effective than Bill had expected.

"Go!" Stan ran for the door, grabbing Bill by the wrist to pull him along too. Bill snatched back his umbrella as Stan paused to shut the bedroom door behind them again. Even though Dr. Illing had shredded the wood around the latch, maybe he'd still struggle to figure out how to open it. "Living room?"

"I said fine!" Bill shut his umbrella and used it to point toward the fairy ring. "As long as you don't act immature about it!"

"I'm the one being immature?! You're the one who's scared of a room!" They stopped in the fairy ring, too close to each other for comfort; and then, with a disorienting whoosh, they were standing in an identical circle of mushrooms in the guest room. "Why does it even matter so much whether Ford or me killed you?" Stan yanked the door open. "Why is it so hard to admit that I threw the punch that took you out?!"

Bill clumsily kicked several sliced mushrooms aside, breaking the fairy ring, and nearly fell as he tried to keep up with Stan's pace. "Because you didn't kill me! You can't kill me because YOU AREN'T IMPORTANT!"

Stan spluttered in outrage, turning to stare at Bill. "Not important enough to kill you?! How does that even make sense! What, you think you're—too good for a guy like me to take down?!"

Bill's eyes widened the tiniest bit, as though he'd just realized something. A sickeningly gleeful grin stretched across his face. "It's true! I've looked into countless universes! No matter where you go or what you do, you just don't matter!" He wrenched his arm free of Stan's grip with such an effort that he nearly fell down; but he raised his gaze again to Stan's face. "If anything, you just make everything worse."

Stan's hands curled into fists. "You'd better watch your mouth—"

But when Bill planted the tip of his umbrella in the carpet and raised his cuffed hand to point at Stan, he stopped. Just a second ago Bill had been whiny and defensive; but now his inhuman gaze transfixed Stan to the spot. There was power in that mad self-assurance Stan had only ever seen before in criminal lords who commanded hundreds of gangsters. Bill bore himself like an ancient god preparing to pass judgment on a mortal, and Stan had no choice but to listen in dread to his revelation.

Bill said, "You know, I first tried to work with Stanford in a universe where you don't exist? And I couldn't get into his head! He wouldn't give me a chance!" He jabbed his finger toward Stan's chest like a knife. "Because YOU hadn't ruined his life and made him desperate enough to trust an alien! And YOU hadn't spent your whole crooked childhood training him to put up with a con artist's lies—so he'd be ready when he met me. Isn't that funny, Stanley?"

The air rushed from Stan's lungs. His voice was thin and trembling with rage. "You just— You're trying to get on my nerves." He'd never heard anything before that sounded so terribly true.

"So what if I am! It's still true!" Bill's laughter was like a shriek. "You were stillborn in that universe! Your brother had to grow up without a twin watching over him—so he actually learned how to make friends. And he was a big success at West Coast Tech. Your mother was devastated she'd lost you—but you know what's really funny?" He had the awful grin of a court jester about to deliver a punchline that would start a war. "I think your family loved that dead baby you more than they ever liked the disappointment you turned out to be—"

Stan socked Bill as hard as he could.

He expected Bill to flinch, to duck, to shield his head—something. Bill always flinched. Instead he locked up, facing Stan, wide-eyed and watching the incoming blow. The punch connected with his face with a sickening crunch. Bill toppled flat on his back. His top hat and umbrella tumbled across the floor. The chain jerked Stan down to kneel over Bill.

It was like a spell had broken. Stan stared down at Bill like an idiot. He felt like an idiot. The shock even snapped him out of his anger. He uncurled his fist, saw a smear of blood on one knuckle, tried to say something, and only managed to come up with, "Aw, jeez."

Bill was weak. He wasn't a demon anymore; he was a yappy chihuahua trying to sound bigger than he was because he was scared. Stan knew that. He was only kicking a washed-up loser of a con artist while he was down.

He'd been there before.

Bill had slapped his hand over his mouth and nose, fingers digging into the skin, eyes squeezed shut in pain.

Stan swallowed hard. "Hey, I didn't mean to do that much— I mean, you had it coming, but still... uh... you okay?" He awkwardly offered Bill a hand.

Bill reached up—and placed a bloody tooth, root and all, in Stan's palm.

Stan stared. "Wh."

"Tooth fairy bait." Bill gave Stan a wild, bloody smile. "Thanks for the help. It's been loose for days."

Tooth fairy— Stan automatically glanced toward the doorway to see whether their pursuers were catching up. And only then did he realize they were in the middle of the living room, standing in front of Stan's armchair. He'd been set up.

He stared at Bill.

Bill glared up at Stan. Voice rough, he said, "Who's scared of you?" He spat a wad of bloody spit at Stan's face. The attempt was so weak it landed on Bill's own shirt. A far cry from the whiny triangle who'd tried to bribe Stan into sparing his life.

They both looked up at the sound of wood cracking. Stan said, "All right, we've got bait." He seized Bill's bloody hand and, with a grunt, tried to heave him upright. "Can we set a trap?"

Bill unsteadily climbed to his feet. "I guess?" Either he hadn't thought past getting punched in the face, or the blow had knocked his plan out of his head.

Upstairs, Pearl snapped, "Now hurry, before we lose them!" Dr. Illing's footsteps thudded across the attic floorboards.

"Move," Stan hissed, and when Bill turned to glance cluelessly behind himself at the door, Stan rolled his eyes and shoved him.

Bill tripped over the steps up to the gift shop and stumbled backwards through the swinging door, with Stan following. When Bill had steadied himself, he stared in wide-eyed bafflement at the door he'd just passed through. "How did I..."

"Focus, Cipher!" Stan snapped his fingers in Bill's face. "Gimme some nerdy magic. What traps fairies?"

Bill dragged his gaze away from the door and shook his head woozily. "Uhh... carefully-worded contracts... salt lines, iron..."

"You couldn't have mentioned salt when we could've reached the kitchen?" Stan looked around the gift shop. Iron, iron...

"Wow, that's a great idea. Remind me why we were so bent on getting to the living room?"

"Watch it. You've got a few teeth left." Stan smacked Bill's arm, making him jump, and pointed. "Got it! The old diving helmet!"

Bill squinted his eyes unevenly. "Oh yeah—the one Fordsy got ripped off on. Hey—didja know diving helmets are supposed to be copper, but he got sold a spray-painted—"

"For two minutes, please stop talking about my brother. Will it work?"

Bill slowly traced a finger through the air as if he were trying to track the path of something only he could see. "Yeah, it could work."

"'Could'?"

The gaps at the top and bottom of the "Employees Only" door glowed bright blue. "Fresh blood," Pearl said, "they went this way!"

"Give me the tooth," Bill said. "And keep Frank out, we're dead if he gets in."

"In there!" Pearl cried, and Dr. Illing's drill revved again. The door to the living room was a swinging door without a latch; curse or no, if Dr. Illing hit it, it would fly right open.

Stan yelled, "Hold it! Do not drill that door! It's... it's load bearing! Yeah, if you start hacking holes in it the whole shack could come down on us!"

The drill powered down. Dr. Illing said dubiously, "That doesn't sound right, but I don't know enough about doors to dispute it."

Pearl swooped under the door—carrying an armload of the teeth Bill had thrown earlier—but she turned around when she realized Dr. Illing wasn't following. "What are you stopping for, you idiot! He's lying! Doors don't work like that—"

"Hey, sparkles!" Bill held his bloody tooth up next to his head. "You want this?!"

She gasped in horror, clapping her hands over her mouth and dropping the teeth. "You knocked it out! You monster, what if you chipped it?!" She drew her wand again and, with a tiny shrill roar, she dove for it.

Bill pulled it out of her way with the grace of a matador dodging a bull. She wheeled around faster than Bill could react, flung a spell at his back, and made another dive for the tooth. Stan jerked him out of the way. Bill laughed, "Is that all you've got? I've seen better flying out of dandelion seeds!"

She whirled around to face him again with a growl of frustration, fluffy bob cut puffed up in rage, wings buzzing like the propeller of a fighter plane. The third time she dove for the tooth, she snatched it out of Bill's fingers.

And immediately rammed head-first into the back of the solid iron diving helmet. It rang out like a broken bell. She croaked, "ow."

Stan slammed the front window of the helmet shut. "Ha!"

"Yes!" Bill pointed at the helmet. "You're stupid!"

Dr. Illing—who had dropped down to the ground to peer through the three-inch gap at the bottom of the door—cried, "No!" He pounded on the door in frustration. It swung a few inches open. He stared at it in bafflement. It swung back and hit him in the forehead.

"Well, well, well. It looks like we've got a proper hostage situation, don't we?" Bill rapped on top of the helmet with his umbrella's hooked handle. "Better stay away from the sides, Pearly. What would you say touching iron feels more like—being burned, or electrified? I've always wondered, but never had an opportunity to possess a fairy—"

Stan elbowed him. "Ix-nay on the ossess-pay."

"Right, right." Bill turned to Dr. Illing. "It'd be pretty easy for me to bounce your patron off the walls of this thing. So how's about you drop the power tools and back away from the door?"

Dr. Illing gave Bill the despairing look of a man who'd been struggling to carry an impossibly heavy weight for decades, only for one swift jab in the ribs to make him drop it. But he got to his feet, and after a moment, his yellow tool bag dropped heavily beside the door.

Stan opened the door, slung the bag over his shoulder before Bill got a chance to rifle through it, and pulled out the drill Dr. Illing had been menacing them with. Holding Dr. Illing at drill point, he nodded toward the gift shop exit. "Get walking. Outside."

"But..." Dr. Illing tried to look past Bill and Stan to the diving helmet.

Bill slung an arm around Dr. Illing's back, aggressively encouraging him to hasten toward the door. "Don't worry about her! We plan to resolve this peacefully, don't we, Fisher?"

"Oh yeah," Stan said. "Nothing to worry about."

"But we're negotiating with the boss, not the lackey. So..."

Stan opened the door. Bill planted a foot on Dr. Illing's butt and shoved. "Out you go!"

Dr. Illing went sprawling across the porch. Stan slammed the door on him as he got to his hands and knees. He looked over his shoulder to give them a look like a puppy who'd been kicked out in the rain.

"You're going to be in so much trouble when I get out of here," Pearl yelled. She grabbed the bars across the window in the diving helmet, then gasped and withdrew her hands as the iron burned her palms. "When the fairy queen hears about this—!"

"That you were breaking into a human dwelling to try to rip my teeth out of my mouth?" Bill asked. "Oh, I'd love to know what she'll think of that."

Stan rummaged in the nook where Wendy shoved spare napkins and plasticware whenever she brought fast food to work. He used a few napkins to wipe off the bloody scrape the drill had left on his shoulder in the closet, and held a handful out to Bill. "Here."

Bill took them. "What?"

"Your face is a mess. Thought you might wanna—you know." Stan attempted to pantomime shoving napkins in his mouth. As much as Stan thought Bill had deserved the sock, he'd feel like a heel if he didn't help clean him up after the fact.

"Oh. Right." Bill attempted to wipe off his chin, then stuffed a napkin up in the gap where his tooth used to be and pulled it out to see how much blood it picked up. It was a lot. He shrugged and turned to the tooth fairy, grinning. "So. I believe we were negotiating?"

"I'm not negotiating anything with you," Pearl huffed. "Look at what you did to this poor tooth!" She was hugging it protectively to her chest, her thin blue dress stained with blood from the root. "Maybe I haven't obeyed the spirit of my treaty, but I've obeyed the letter of it, and the fairy court will back me up on that—"

"Again, you did try to rip my teeth straight out of my mouth in the middle of the night," Bill said.

"I never! A dentist did! If he happened to feel like giving me the tooth after that, that's his business, isn't it. I could have been aiming my wand at anybody, you don't know."

"Sure, sure! You did nothing wrong. You slid neatly through those loopholes. Maybe your court will even agree with you." Bill leaned closer to the helmet, grinning through the window. "But don't you think—if I drive over to Multnomah County, walk backwards into your queen's court, and tell her what you've been doing—she won't want to close those loopholes? No more hench-dentists."

Pearl had gone very still. "'Walk b—'? How do you... What do you know about our court?"

Bill laughed wryly. "Kid, I've known your court since before it moved to America. I've spoken with the ancestors of the ancestors of your queen. The fae tell fairy tales about me, so if you know what's good for you—"

"Easy." Stan put a warning hand on Bill's shoulder. "Just because she's not human doesn't mean you can just..."

"I know, I know."

Pearl had been watching Bill skeptically as he spoke, clearly trying to weigh how much of his boasting was true—but seeing Stan try to silence him apparently persuaded her of his honesty. Her eyes widened in alarm. "Who—What's your name?"

Bill cast a sideways glance toward Stan, then shrugged ruefully. "Afraid I'm not allowed to tell. You know where we are—even people like you and me can't afford to disobey the collector's house rules. You can call me Goldie Locke. And if you don't want me to negotiate your release with your queen, then you'd better be willing to negotiate with us. Are we clear?"

Pearl nodded.

"Wonderful." (Dr. Illing had circled the gift shop to the nearest window, where he was staring forlornly in at Bill, Stan, and the helmet containing Pearl. Bill waved cheerfully at him.) "I don't know about the Fisherman, here—but I, for one, would like to make sure this doesn't become a problem again. So how about this: if you promise to leave, never harass us again, never have your agents harass us, never via any means attempt to harm us or steal our worldly goods—teeth included—either directly or indirectly, and never return to this house, then we promise not to report your little dentist scheme to your queen. Does that sound fair to you?"

Pearl pouted; but she reluctantly nodded. "Yes, yes—that's fair. I agree."

"Hold on," Stan said. "Once she's outta here, how do we know she'll keep that promise? Shouldn't we get some kind of, I don't know, insurance?"

"She's a fairy," Bill said. "She can't lie even if she wants to. They're compelled to tell the truth. They can twist it, and they can try to get you with tricky wording, but they can't lie. Once they've made a promise, it's unbreakable."

Stan considered that. "Huh." He'd have to double-check that claim with Ford later, he'd know.

"Which is why I get along so well with them," Bill said cheerily, "since I never lie either."

Stan laughed loudly, smacking Bill's back. "Sure! And I'm the queen of England."

Bill mock bowed. "Oh my, your majesty. I had no idea." Stan laughed again.

"I agreed to your terms," Pearl snapped, "so set me free!"

"Hold on." Bill propped his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand, leaning close to the helmet again. "I seem to recall I only promised not to tattle to your queen. I didn't promise to let you go." He glanced at Stan. "Isn't that what you heard?"

Now what was he up to? But Stan nodded in agreement. "That's what I heard, all right."

Bill winked. "Like I said: tricky wording."

Pearl let out a swear that sounded like tinkling bells and stomped her foot. "That's ridiculous! If you've already sworn not to tell the queen about my methods, you no longer have any blackmail against me! You can negotiate with her for my release now, for all I care!"

"Your tricky wording backfired," Stan said.

Bill didn't look bothered. "All right. I'm sure you're happy to wait right here until we make the long drive into town, aren't you. You do know where we are, right?"

The fairy's face immediately darkened. "You... I don't see why not! There's nothing to fear in this house."

"Isn't there? Want us to go wake up the head of the house, ask him to babysit you until we get back?" Bill asked.

Huff. "He's gone."

"He's back," Bill said. "If you're lucky, maybe he'll stick you in the freezer for an hour, so it won't hurt when he pins your wings to a cork board." (Stan blinked at Bill in amazement. Head of the house—Soos? Soos?)

Pearl shuddered. "You're a liar."

"Am I?" Bill raised his cuffed wrist. "I've worked with the queens of your queens. I have powers you've never dreamed of. Do you think I'm chained to a doppelgänger for fun?"

Stan said, "To a wh...?" but at Bill's sharp look, he fell silent. All right. A lot of phrases that didn't make sense to him had just flown by. Clearly Bill was using some kind of fairy talk mumbo-jumbo to give her a wildly inaccurate impression of what was going on in this shack. Stan had manners, he wasn't about to interrupt a fellow professional in the middle of conning a mark.

Pearl worked her jaw angrily; but there was something nervous in her gaze now, glancing between Stan's face, the handcuffs, and the rest of the shack. "Maybe you're not as important as you think you are," she said unconvincingly.

"I've got magic teeth, girl."

"Fine!" Pearl stamped her foot. "Fine, I'll negotiate with you! What else do you want?"

Bill pointed at her chest. "I want to choose my payment for that tooth there."

She hugged the tooth protectively, but said, "Fine."

Bill looked at Stan. "You want anything?"

He considered that. "Better-fitting dentures would be nice? Can she do that? Is that something I can ask for?"

"Yeah, you can ask for that."

"Is that all?" Pearl snapped.

"Dentures for him, payment for me, unenchant our door and take out the carvings you left in it, and..." Bill glanced at Stan again, who shrugged. Bill said, "Yeah, I think that's it. Deal?"

"Deal!"

Bill gestured toward the helmet, and Stan flipped its front window open. Pearl stepped out, hovered up level with Stan's face, and gave him a murderous glare; but she drew out her toothbrush wand again and flicked it at him. "There. Happy?"

Stan adjusted his jaw thoughtfully. "Yeah. Oh, those're real nice. Hardly feels like they're there."

"They're better than you deserve," Pearl said haughtily; then turned to Bill. "And you? What payment do you want?"

Bill grinned wide, pointing at the new gap in his teeth. "Solid gold replacement! 24k."

"Pure gold's too malleable for dental work."

"I don't care, this body's a temp. Gimme the good stuff."

She gave him a sour look, but again waved her wand. The blood evaporated from Bill's teeth and gums and a new tooth materialized in the gap, the exact shape of the original but shining gold. Bill licked it experimentally. "Yeah, that'll do."

"Now get outta here," Stan said, "and take your creepy tooth temple with you."

"Hmph!" She turned her nose up at both of them; then zipped across the gift shop, ducking down to snatch up a couple of dropped teeth as she went. She dipped under the door into the living room and was gone.

"Well," Bill said. "We ended up better than we started. Free dental work, a bag of tools..."

"A bunch of property damage," Stan said. "We should've asked her to fix the kids' door."

"Ah." Bill winced. "Nooo, no, probably best we didn't push our luck. Fixing the other door's enough."

Stan shook his head, without much real rancor. "Can't admit you made a mistake, can you?"

"That would be a lie, wouldn't it? And like I said, I'd never lie." Bill smiled impishly. His new tooth gleamed in the dim light. "Let's clean up some of the teeth and mushrooms, huh?"

####

Sweeping up the gift shop was awkward with the handcuffs in the way, but they worked out a system: Stan handled the broom while Bill knelt and held the dustpan. Bill had retrieved his borrowed top hat and umbrella when they went for the broom, and now he kept his cuffed hand on the umbrella, which limited Stan's movement. He almost fussed about it, until he realized Bill's hand was shaking, and each time he stood he leaned on the umbrella like a wobbly cane. Stan tried not to notice how Bill sometimes winced when he had to turn his neck.

As they awkwardly swept up the gift shop, Bill said, "Lucky you got the dentist to stop drilling the door in time, huh."

"What?"

Bill nodded toward the living room. "The load bearing door? I didn't even realize it was that important." He laughed flatly. "We'd really be in trouble if he'd managed to knock it out, huh."

Stan stared at Bill. And then he burst out laughing.

"What?"

"You idiot, doors aren't load bearing!"

Bill stared up at Stan, face slowly going red. "Well, wh— How was I supposed to know that!" Over Stan's laughter, he demanded, "Then why did you tell him it was?!"

"Eh, if he'd so much as nudged the door, he could've gotten right through. Even with that curse you put on him," Stan said. "I had to say something to keep his drill away from it."

"Huh."

Stan could practically see the gears trying to turn in Bill's head as he attempted to understand that information. Maybe he should lay off the poor guy. It was really funny that a little curse made him too stupid to work a door; but he'd turned around and used that same curse to save their hides, Stan should probably give him a temporary pass just for that. He cleared his throat and tried to think of another topic. "Using that tooth as bait wasn't a bad idea."

"Yeah, it was pretty good."

"You could've just asked me to knock it out, though."

Bill glanced up at Stan. His face said, No I couldn't.

Stan understood.

During Stan's decade of travel—thrust into the world far too young, scared, alone, and homeless, with nothing but his wits and a mask of machismo—he had seen, again and again, the truth in one of his father's most frequent lessons: if you weren't tough, then you were nothing. Didn't matter what kind of money, possessions, or friends you had. If you weren't tough enough, you could lose them all in an instant.

And so often, toughness wasn't measured by how many punches it took to knock you down, but by whether the first one made you flinch.

The best thing you could do for yourself was win a fight. But if you didn't stand a chance (and Bill—short, noodle-armed, tiny-fisted, barely able to control his body, facing a man who'd been boxing for fifty years—didn't stand a chance), then the next best thing you could do was show that you could take it like a man. It might win you respect. If it didn't, then at the least it might let you keep some dignity. Bill was desperate for dignity.

Stan had the feeling that Bill had played this game before.

Who had Bill been before Weirdmageddon? Who had he been, that he could call Stan nothing but a con artist and a complete failure who'd have been better off never born—and in between suggest that Ford only trusted Bill because he reminded him of Stan?

####

They cleaned up as best they could, then dragged themselves back to bed.

Bill gave Stan a hopeful look. "Do I get to sleep in the guest room now?"

"No." Ford would murder Stan if he found out he'd let Bill sleep on his bed, and in his final moments Stan would probably think the murder was justified. And that was assuming Bill didn't murder Stan in his sleep.

"Aww, c'mon!" Bill said. "And here I thought we'd bonded a little!"

"Are you kidding? After you said I'm the reason you fooled my brother and my family would be happier if I was dead?!"

Bill laughed lightly. "You're too sensitive!"

As they repositioned their cushions and mattress on either side of the ajar door, Stan paused. "Was that stuff true? Or did you just say it to get a rise out of me."

"What, everything about Stanford being an only child? Naaah—I just thought it would be funny to make you mad."

In his heart, Stan knew Bill had been telling the truth.

Maybe not about there being a dimension where Stanford grew up alone, maybe Bill had made that up; but if so, he'd only made up a fiction that echoed the truth. Mr. Hotshot All-Seeing Eye was right: Stan had only made things worse for the people around him. The best thing he'd ever done with his life was put it on the line to destroy Bill. And apparently, even that hadn't been good enough.

Not for the first time over the past month, Stan wondered: if he'd never recovered his memories, would Bill have died with them? Was that the lifeline that had let Bill claw his way back? Would it have been better if neither of them had ever recovered? If they'd gone down into oblivion chained together?

Probably, on some cosmic level. Bill would be gone. Stan could've used his last few years learning to be a guy that brought more to the table than lying and punching. Everyone would be having a much better summer this year. But, on the other hand, Stan liked having his memories; and to be honest, Bill had been pretty worthless so far. Maybe it was okay that Stan had only done a C+ job at demon-killing. C+ was a passing grade; and he'd never been a straight A's kind of guy.

They'd just have to grudgingly tolerate being chained together.

Stan said, "So was it 'funny' getting your teeth knocked in, too?"

Bill considered that; then let out an involuntary giggle. "Yeah, actually." He settled down on his cushion bed. "But—no, really, I never saw a universe where you two weren't inseparable as kids. I'm sure it happened somewhere, the multiverse is infinite—but I didn't dig that hard. Wasn't one of my priorities. I only needed one Stanford to get my portal running, and the one here did just fine."

Stan still didn't think Bill was telling the whole truth; but then, Stan didn't think Bill had been telling the whole truth earlier, either. Bill wasn't actually telling Stan anything about what the multiverse was like—he was just telling Stan how he wanted Stan to feel.

And Bill could have said that everything he'd said earlier was true. But he didn't.

"You really are a pretty good liar, Cipher," Stan said. "It's too bad you're a lousy dirtbag bent on world domination, or you could've made a decent partner-in-crime."

"Yeah?" Bill settled down, holding his broken umbrella to his side and laying his free arm over his collapsed top hat, as if he was worried someone would steal them in his sleep. (Stan would have to get that umbrella in the morning. It had been fine for Bill to keep it while they were fighting for their lives, but he couldn't keep a blunt weapon covered in metal poky bits indefinitely.) "Well, my schedule's clear and I'm bored. Let me know if anything comes up."

"Don't count on it." Stan slid their chain under the door and pushed it shut.

Bill had wiggled out of explaining why he wouldn't admit that Stan had killed him; but Stan didn't think he needed to ask again. He kinda had an idea. He was at that age where he was starting to worry what his obituary would say, too. "Killed by his dimension-hopping long-time nemesis with 12 PhDs" probably sounded a lot better than "Killed by a crooked grifter in his underwear." The first one might let you keep some dignity.

####

Dipper and Mabel came home shortly after dawn. The light was already on in the kitchen; Mabel curiously ducked in to see why. "Grunkle Stan! Bill! What are you doing up so early?" She paused. "Is that my top hat?"

"Mine now."

Stan and Bill were sitting at the kitchen table, with two plates of eggs and bacon (Bill's eggs had chocolate sauce), and mugs of, respectively, coffee and Mabel juice spiked with ground-up caffeine pills. Stan had a bandage on one arm. They looked exhausted. Their wrists were still handcuffed.

"Oh, you know—" Stan yawned, "—just... full of vim and vigor today."

Dipper surveyed them, tried not to laugh when he saw the cuffs, and asked, "Did you guys even get any sleep?"

Stan grunted and looked at Bill to field that one.

Bill said, "By the looks of it, more than you two did." Dipper's and Mabel's hair were tangled messes, and their clothes were stained with dirt and grass. Dipper looked like he'd fallen on his side into a mud puddle. "How'd the monster hunt go?"

"Partial success!" Mabel said. "The thing that was stealing Pacifica's alpacas came back and we froze its leg! We followed it back to its forest lair and rescued the alpacas! Including Giorgio!"

"The anomaly got away, though," Dipper said, more to himself than anyone else. "But how? It was ten feet tall, it couldn't have hidden. Unless it was... abducted, maybe? In some invisible space ship...?"

Bill rolled his open eye. "Hey—how many of the alpacas were shorn by the time you got to them?"

Mabel gave him a surprised look. "Everyone but Giorgio. How'd you know?"

"We don't need to know," Dipper said quickly. "We can figure it out on our own. C'mon, Mabel." He headed upstairs. Mabel shrugged apologetically, and followed after him.

Stan watched them go, then asked Bill, "So what did take the rich kid's exotic sheep?"

"Freak in the woods who really likes wool suits."

"Huh." Stan sipped his coffee. "It's not dangerous to the kids, is it?"

"Not as long as they don't try to film him." Bill picked up a strip of bacon, tiredly tried to stick it in his eye, sighed, and redirected it to the correct hole.

From upstairs, Mabel shouted, "What happened to our door?"

Stan winced. "Don't worry about it, sweetie! I'll fix it later."

Bill said, "We didn't clean upstairs, did we."

Stan tried to remember what all had been left behind. Bedsheet hanging out the window, teeth on the floor... "It's—it's fine. Those kids love mysteries."

"Ha. Yeah, the boy would probably just get mad if we told him what happened before he figured it out himself."

There was the faint sound of the vending machine opening. A moment later, Ford walked in with an empty mug of coffee. "You're up early," he said. "Did you sleep well?"

Bill gave Ford a sleepy smirk. "Aw, I didn't know you cared."

Ford shot Bill a glower, did a double take at the top hat, then shook his head and looked away. "I wasn't asking you. I hope you got a crick in your neck that lasts the rest of your life." (Bill laughed.)

Stan shrugged off the question. "Oh yeah, no problem. Got comfortable and didn't move all night."

"We barely even noticed the cuffs," Bill said, stifling a yawn. "Slept like babies."

Ford raised a skeptical brow. Still, he nodded and went to get coffee for himself. Stan had a broken umbrella hanging from the back of his chair; Ford assumed it was yet another confiscated weapon and picked it up to move somewhere Bill couldn't access it. "Well, I'm relieved that at least nothing weird happened last night."

"Yeah, nothing weird at all," Stan said.

"Most normal night of my life," Bill said.

There was a knock on the door. At this hour of the morning? Ford said, "I'll get that."

He answered the door.

On the porch was a haggard, slumped, very sad looking man in a white lab coat. Nearly on the verge of tears, he asked, "Can I please have my ability to open doors back? I—I had to sleep outside last night. So many bugs."

Ford stared at him. "Only the person who cast the spell can lift it. Just a moment."

He ducked into the kitchen, glared at Bill, and said, "'Slept like babies,' did you?"

Neither Bill's nor Stan's innocent smile was convincing.

Ford focused on Bill's mouth. "And where'd you get that tooth?"

"Ah." Bill looked at Stan.

Stan cleared his throat. "So the good news is, we've got a great story for your journal."

####

(And that concludes the tooth fairy arc! If you enjoyed it, I'd love hearing from y'all! I'm really proud of how this whole plot came out. Next week we start on the absolute stupidest plot arc you've ever seen.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle stan #(character tags for the fic itself; obviously they're not in the art lol)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

175 notes · View notes

an-au-blog · 5 months

Text

I wondered if I should post this for the longest time but...

The whole plot of One Piece but they're all in an asylum (with zosan and a bit frobin bc i love them)

(Disclaimer: consider all the CW that could come with a mental institution (e.g. self harm, mental illnesses, death, violence etc.))

Listen, listen I have it all planned out!

They call the wing they're in "East Blue" because it's the most east part of the facility and it's painted in blue. They keep the patients in small groups at first so that they don't act out or feel threatened. They call this group "the straw hats" after they let one of the patients propose it (the patients all agreed on it).

Luffy is taken in because he can't discern the difference between reality and fiction and thinks there's a pirate treasure he needs to find. It started after his second adopted brother's death - his brain refuses to believe it, so it creates an alternative reality in which his death was heroic and grand.

Both Nami and Sanji are taken in for self-harm and suicidal tendencies (they both failed to commit suicide, main difference was Nami did it during a depressive episode, while Sanji had tried multiple times but stopped himself every time until he almost succeed but was found by his boss- Zeff).

Zoro is highly delusional, has violent tendencies and has paranoia - he thinks anyone who looks strong is challenging him to a fight.

Brook has cotard delusion (also known as corpse syndrome), where he thinks that his body is dead/dying or doesn't exist.

Usopp is a pathological liar with severe depression. He admitted himself with the encouragement of his girlfriend, who had tried helping him after his mother's death.

Franky is a volunteer, who the patients absolutely love. He helps with renovations as well, since his day job is in construction.

Robin and Chopper are doctors. Robin started working at the institution because she used to struggle with suicidal thoughts and self worth and wishes to help those like her. Chopper is a man with dwarfism and has a nice short beard, so some of the patients with a rich imagination think he's a raccoon dog or baby rairdeer.

Jinbe is the owner of the establishment. Everyone loves him and he does his best to provide his patients with what they need. His favorite food is fish and he often orders or takes it from home to eat in his lunch break, so the other employees call him a fish man or First Son of the Sea. he thinks it's funny.

In group sessions, they all share their experiences and progress. It starts off with just Luffy telling stories of him fighting bad guys and monsters in the sea. His stories slowly started including the rest of the east wing. First it was Koby who was an intern nurse and then it was Zoro - he's selectively mute but nodded in agreement on a couple of the stories that he told.

Then he started including Nami, to which she objected at first but slowly stopped, it was nice to feel included. Usopp joined in with his own overexaggerated stories. Then it was Sanji, Luffy called him the cook of his crew, which was oddly fitting but still ironic. Yes, he was a cook before coming in but he also had a severe eating disorder. He didn't tell anyone about it. Until one day he told Luffy, Zoro, Usopp, and Nami. Luffy made it into a grand heroic story about him surviving starvation on a big rock. Sanji liked it more than having an eating disorder so he accepted it - even added his own spark to it, saying it was Zeff who helped him. (He knew it wasn't true, but he wanted to pretend that he knew Zeff long enough for him to have become the healthy father figure he was deprived of as a child.)

While on the subject of Sanji - he refused to eat. Most times he wouldn't even sit at the table. In the beginning it was so bad that the nurses had to hold him down and force feed him. Slowly he started obeying. It was mainly because they called in either Zeff or Reiju (though he got scared that she would tell the rest of the family where he was, she didn't). The doctors figured he needed a support system but he didn't trust anyone in a white coat and they couldn't ask other patients. Luffy had a thing for freedom and anyone choosing whether or not they did anything... do he was no help. Although on a couple of occasions they would see Zoro taking Sanji's plate and sitting in the corner with him. He would take two bites and feed Sanji one. He refused at first but Zoro told him that "If you don't eat, I won't either." which was one of the few times anyone had heard him talk. Though they had heard him laugh once with Luffy and he responded a few times when Usopp kept asking him questions.

Eventually, Robin came back from her honeymoon with Franky and started bonding with the patients. She became a part of Luffy's "crew" as well. Not long after Franky was welcomed as well.

When Brook came in, he was so skinny that he looked like a skeleton, so when he told Luffy he was, he believed him immediately. Brook is the only one who is allowed to use the musical instruments since he's the only one who can play. Musical therapy turns out to be quite effective, if not for anything else, for calming the patients.

There were a few "incidents" in the courtyard - first with Arlong a few other guards that got moved to another wing, then with some of the other patients. Luffy seemed aggressive on visitation day as well, not recognizing his parent after he went through top surgery, he just called him Crocodile and made up a story about Nami's visitor - her girlfriend Vivi. He would talk about how if she looked pretty like a princess, she must be one and how she was fighting for her country and he would help her.

One of the bigger fights was when he fought Enel - a patient who thought he was a god and had tried starting a cult.

Every once in a while, he'd start a fight and Zoro (and sometimes Sanji) joined in to help their friend. It happened a couple more times until one of the upper-ranked doctors (Dr Kuma) decided to separate them for a while to see if their attitude changed. It was only a few months but it seemed like they got worse. Luffy and Zoro would get all silent and non-responsive for hours sometimes days. Sanji would lose all the progress he made with his eating disorder and would try to find sharp objects to self-harm again. Nami and Usopp's emotional state would worsen as well, having full-blown panic attacks, Usopp developed paranoia and an eating disorder (but he started handling it little before getting released back with the rest of the east wing).

#one piece au #zosan #but not that much #a bit of #frobin #east blue asylum wing au #or something like that #i like that name sure...#op

149 notes · View notes

coolprettyleo · 1 month

Text

talk of the town - will smith

tw: lowkey cringe. if ur not into it lmk lowk...

wc: 1.4k

will smith x influencer/ d'amelio sister

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

dylan couldn't believe the shit day she was having. she had woken up late and missed her pilates class, then she spilt coffee all over her laptop, and right now she was fifteen minutes late to her music class. it was her first ever day of college too.

even though she was having a horrible day, she was still dressed cute. she decided she wanted to start taking her school more seriously. and that meant actually going to class.

the thing about dylan though is that she didn't need school. she had over one hundred million followers on all platforms. she was what someone would call an influencer.

influencers usually didn't continue with school if they didn't need to so when dylan decided to still attend college it was a shock to a lot of people; including her family.

her family were all also influencers and didn't decide to attend college; rather deciding to work on their brand instead. a brand that dylan opted out of, she had decided to enter marketing at boston college.

she entered her music class to find that there was no less than twenty five students inside. thats what happens when you attend a private college! dylans strategy her whole life was to always sit in the back of classes. (it was easier to skip class and just lie to the professor and say you were there)

there was one seat left where three other boys sat. she set her stuff down. the boys giving her an odd look, not thinking anyone was going to take that last seat between them or probably trying to figure out why the hell she looked so familiar. dylan got that look often.

the professor though was deep in lecture about their upcoming assignment and dylan was too busy trying to find a top for her upcoming brand dinner in New York. she was pulled out of her own little world when the professor noticed she was not listening and had missed the introduction part of class and decided to call her out on it.

she felt a tap from the boy next to her getting her attention because it seemed the professor had been calling her.

"oh my gosh im so sorry what" she said removing an AirPod and sheepishly looking at the class who all seemed to be either smiling at her or giving her dirty looks.

"since you decided to grace us with your presence introduce yourself please" she said pointing to a slide that stated what exactly to say.

"uhm... im dylan. im from connecticut but I've been living in LA for the past four years, and im a marketing major" she said awkwardly feeling like everyone was judging her.

"alright thank you miss dylan. I want to see the title slide of the assignment done before I dismiss you guys" she said.

the three boys she sat with seemed to be life long friends and she was feeling a bit left out. she had zoned them out till she heard them whispering to each other.

"ask her"

"no thats weird"

"ill ask"

"your tiktok famous huh"

she looked up to a freckled boy her while the dark haired boy giggled and the blonde haired boy cringed.

"uhm, yeah... I guess" she said awkwardly. she really didn't know what to say.

"nice" he said going back to working on his assignment.

she smiled awkwardly and looked at the other two boys. who looked like they were cringing about their friends actions. the dark haired boy seemed to let it go and work on his assignment while the blonde one spoke up.

"im sorry about him, ryan doesn't know how to talk to girls"

"yes I do! if I didn't how would I of pulled frankie" ryan says.

"she basically pulled you" gabe quipped back.

dylan just giggled along to their battering. they seemed funny.

"he's fine. a lot of people don't realize its me in real life but instead just stare at me trying to figure out why I look so familiar, and thats creepier to me"

"well we knew it was you because everyones been saying you go here" ryan told her.

oh god it was a hot topic?

"people talk about it?" she said grossed out.

"yeah, but like no one ever sees you for some reason"

"I did online classes and lived in LA last semester" she told them. it was true, her family was filming their Hulu show and it didnt make sense for her to leave mid-way through filming.

"do you live on campus?" the blonde one asked her again. he seemed like the quiet and calmer one of the three boys.

hes hot

"no, I live in beacon hill, the city"

"why didnt you dorm" gabe nosily asked.

"I didn't think it would be too fun to share an apartment with random girls at first but now I regret it, because I have no friends here" she honestly told them.

"oh my god! my girlfriend has no friends!" ryan said loudly. which made will, gabe, and the people around them to laugh.

"im telling her you said that" will smiled mischievously at him.

"shutup smitty. we have a game tonight and she usually sits alone or with my parents but they're not coming tonight so she'd probably like the company!" ryan said. he was honestly just trying to do a nice thing. he knew frankie struggled with the fact she had no girl friends; even though she said it was fine, and dylan seemed nice.

"game?" Dylan said confused.

"oh ya! we play hockey" the freckled boy answered.

"oh thats cool!" dylan said. she had attended a couple games recently due to the fact her sister was dating an NHL player.

"im will, thats gabe, and ryan" the blonde one said pointing the dark haired boy and the freckled one.

"im dylan. and what's your girlfriends number, id be down to go" she said to the freckled one.

"here" he said writing it down and handing her a crumpled paper.

"her names frankie by the way"

"okay, ill text her after class" she said smiling getting back to work.

"what's your major?" will asked her. he didn't want the conversation to end for some reason. she was lowkey his celebrity crush since he was like fourteen and they first started getting famous.

"marketing. you?"

"communications"

"your quite the communicator then" she said.

oh my gosh dylan you sound pathetic what the hell even is a communicator?

what didnt help was that will looked clueless and Ryan and gabe seemed to be biting back a smile acting like they weren't listening.

"im sorry?"

"like, you like communications- like the major" dylan said, trying to save herself but digging an even deeper and awkwarder hole, turning as red as a tomato.

"uhm ya, I didn't really know what major to pick coming in" he said smiling at her. a smile that dylan liked to see.

"well what do you want to be?"

"a hockey player."

"oh... too bad hockey isn't a major huh" she said chuckling at her own joke while ryan and gabe gave her funny looks except will of course, who was laughing at the joke like it was the funniest thing ever said. (thats what your supposed to do when your crush tells a joke)

"and what do you want to be"

"honestly, I dont know. I just want to have the degree so I can have more of a say in the brands I deal with, and all that"

"so you want the knowledge" gabe said, since he's been listening.

"yeah, basically" she said. making eye contact with will who looked to be studying her a bit.

he knew she wanted to say more but seemed to be putting up a wall which was understandable seeing as she just met these boys twenty mins ago.

"well im all done." she said closing up her laptop and standing up.

"maybe ill see you guys later!" she said waving to them.

"look for 6" will said to her.

"six what?" she said confused.

"what?" he said equally confused now

"six of what" she said cluelessly.

"like the number six" he said smiling awkwardly.

"oh!! omg I knew that! okay!" she said grabbing her bag and waving bye to them.

gabe and ryan gave each other a knowing look before immediately chirping will.

"you are such a flirt"

"that was painful"

"and he said I dont know how to talk to girls"

"shutup guys" he said packing his stuff away before leaving. hoping to see her in the stands tonight. her personality was even cuter.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

im so sorry for not uploading! I just keep overthinking everything so I end up just deleting it! but thats just a me problem lol. but I hope u guys like this au. I plan to the it all together.

#nhl imagine #ryan leonard #gabe perreault #nhl imagines #will smith hockey #bc hockey #hockey fic #will smith x reader #gabe perreault x reader #ryan leonard x reader

111 notes · View notes

rollinouttahere-writes · 9 months

Note

Do you have any headcanons for after an escape attempt with each strawhats? What would be their reaction at first? What would they do when they find you? How stricter would they get? What would they start doing differently after the attempt?

I have a head canon that Robin and Zoro are the only ones that can dish out punishment because everyone else doesn’t have the heart to hurt a single hair on your pretty head. I think Nami would start making plans and rules for everyone to follow so their eyes are on you. Luffy would just be, well, Luffy. Sanji would be more smothering. Chopper and Usopp would try to liven up your mood to do pranks and play games along with Luffy. Franky would give you gadgets to play with and to entertain yourself with, maybe even hiding a camera into those gadgets to keep an eye on you.

I am not far enough to know what Jinbe or Brook would do differently, yohohoho!!!

I want to state upfront that I do not depict yanderes that beat the hell out of their darlings. Sorry, but with my past, writing something like that would be extremely triggering for me so I'm not going to do it.

I'm not crazy about doing punishments in general, but I'll give a quick overview for the straw hats.

Luffy, despite his nature, is the one you have to look out for. One of his top priorities is his crew, and that now includes you and making sure you get assimilated. For minor offenses like being cold or shoving them away, he just invades your space more (like yandere exposure therapy). Oh you think you can push him away? Haha no, you're not that strong. You'll be wrapped very tightly in his arms to prove a point.

For a full on escape attempt though, he's going to be visibly upset. Honestly the look on his face will probably be enough to stop you dead in your tracks. When you're back on the ship (not if, when), you're going into solitary confinement until you break since you wanted to be away from them so bad. You'll still be fed of course, but no one will talk to you. The only way you're getting out of that room is by apologizing or if you become ill or get hurt. Robin will be using her devil fruit to keep an eye on you throughout this.

Zoro is a hardass, but it takes a lot to get more that a dirty look from him. For the most part, he leaves the assimilating up to everyone else because he thinks they're more cut out for it than he is. The most he'll usually do is grab you, make you look him in the eye, and tell you to cut it out before you or someone else has to do something they'll regret. Also, I feel like he would be noticeably gentler if you're a woman that he perceives as weak. You're still going back, but he's trying to be careful about it. He'll remind you of how weak you are and how strong so many people in this world are, so maybe you'll be more appreciative of their protection.

You're unlikely to get away with him around, he'll shut that down the second you start to step out of line. If he catches you trying to escape, you're getting thrown over his shoulder and carried back to the ship kicking and screaming. From there he'll hand you over to Luffy for him to decide what to do. He's more of a guard dog than an enforcer.

Nami is the one that comes up with punishments and ways to wear you down. Isolating you after an escape was her idea because she knows how crippling it is to feel alone. It hurts her to do this, but she needs you to understand how much you need them. With her temper, she's quick to yell at you for any minor infraction against them. She also tries to trap you financially by buying things for you and then saying that you can't leave unless you pay her back in full. Which is impossible between her interest rate and the fact that none of them will let you do anything to earn money.

Escape attempts boil her blood, you'll probably get in a screaming match with her before you're locked away. She'll be yelling about how ungrateful you are for trying to leave. They do nothing but love you, feed you, clothe you, and treat you like family and this is how you repay them?! After what Arlong put her through for ten years, she can't fathom not loving being a part of the Straw Hats.

Usopp hates this so much. The whole thing makes him uncomfortable and he wishes you would just acquiesce already. His role is that of a snitch. If he so much as thinks you're up to something you're getting ratted out in a matter of seconds. However, upon realizing that you were now avoiding him like a plague, he dialed back on it. Now if the behavior isn't that serious, he'll just quietly scold you but ultimately let it go.

I wish you luck trying to escape around him with his eyesight. The man could shoot a specific leaf off a tree from a mile away, do you really think he won't see you trying to sneak away? He'll give chase, but will also be yelling that you're trying to get away so that now everyone is also after you. Making it off the ship with him around is genuinely impressive.

Sanji hates this more than Usopp, especially if you're a woman. But, as much as he loathes to see you cry and be upset, there is a part of him (that he is very ashamed of) that feels downright gleeful about having someone in his life that physically can't leave him. He will literally never admit this to anyone. He's like a combination of Usopp and Zoro, his job is to keep an eye on you and interfere with any escape attempts. He won't do much about you acting out. He mostly just ignores it and doubles down on being sweet and doting to try and win you over.

If you actually try to leave with him around, first of all, good luck because he's never that far away and will simply escort you back to your seat as if you simply got turned around. Actually getting enough distance from him to warrant a more serious response won't last long. Sanji is fast, so he'll close the gap in no time and scoop you up to go back to the ship. He won't say a thing to you the whole way back, he feels hurt and betrayed that you would do this and doesn't trust himself to not break if he opens his mouth. During your isolation, he makes a bunch of your favorite foods as a way of reminding you how much he cares about you.

Chopper is joining the list of people that can't stand this. He doesn't understand and is confused, are friendships supposed to be like this? The others will tell him that no, they're not, but sometimes you just need to "convince" people that you're supposed to be friends with them. This makes him determined to do his part and help get you adjusted! He isn't really sure what that entails though, so he's just very friendly and affectionate with you. If you're seated, he's going to hop into your lap.

When you try to make a break for it with him around, his first instinct is to panic. You're getting away! One of your crew mates needs to go catch you! Oh wait that's him! He'll shift into one of his larger forms so that he can catch up with you and grab you. The whole time he's carrying you back, he's crying because he feels like you did this because he hasn't done a good enough job making friends with you. He takes the isolation the worst and is constantly worrying about you getting hurt or sick.

Robin tries to take it with stride, but she's pretty uncomfortable with it. I don't agree with the idea that she's someone that would be dishing out punishments. She's had to play the role of a bad guy for the past two decades, she doesn't want to keep playing it. All that she wants is to enjoy the company of her new friends, and that includes you even if you're wary of them. She does her best to get you to understand that your new crew mates only want what's best for you, even going so far as to tell you about her past and what they did to save her from Enies Lobby.

You are not escaping on her watch, it's just not happening. She sees and hears everything and can grow limbs on your body to make you come back before you've gotten more than a couple meters away. The first time, she actually will keep it to herself if no one else saw it. She'll settle for telling you what will happen if you get caught doing this again, and remind you of how much they all care about you. Can't you just appreciate that? If you do wind up being isolated, it's her job to check up on you since she can do so without entering the room. Seeing you crying or upset really hurts her, and the second she thinks you're worn down enough she's all but begging Luffy to let you out now.

Franky is not foreign to the concept of adopting every scrappy kid you come across, and if he's yandere, then he probably did the same with some of the members of the Franky Family. He's experienced in these endeavors and it shows with how cool and collected he is about it. You're bound to get frustrated with him laughing off you acting out. He'll even go so far as to tell someone like Nami or Zoro to relax when they're berating you because that's not going to do anything to help bring you around. He'll wind up endearing himself to you ever so slightly because of this, and it's 100% intentional on his part.

He handles escape attempts like a minor annoyance. Like he's fetching a cat that slipped out the front door when it wasn't supposed to. He follows after you, picks you up and carries you like a football back to the ship while asking you if that was really worth it like some disappointed dad. Like Robin, he doesn't want to immediately jump to isolation and will try to plead your case that maybe this was a one time thing and you've learned your lesson, but if you're kicking and screaming and not cooperating then he'll throw in the towel and let the others do what they will.

I also haven't gotten to Brook and Jinbei, so I'll leave them out too.

After you're let out, you're essentially going to be love bombed by everyone. You'll be in a vulnerable state of mind and they will all be taking advantage of it.

271 notes · View notes

redriotinggg · 5 months

Text

I need anyone who genuinely dislikes Usopp to take a long look in the mirror because yeah, he can be a bit annoying at times but he is honestly a good and interesting character!!

He is just as loyal as any other member of the crew and fights the strongest when he’s fighting on someone else’s behalf. (See: him fighting for Sanji in Skypeia, fighting for Robin at Eneis Lobby, fighting for Luffy in Dressrosa, fighting for Tama and Nami in Wano.) He is a major player in so many of the battles in the series that it baffles me that people can think of him as an unimportant member of the crew.

And Usopp is a fucking genius??? Hello???? He’s able to make weapons powerful enough to create storms and tornadoes. He is canonically a jack-of-all trades that supports the crew in their daily lives and in battle. The Going Merry only lasted as long as she did because Usopp was around to care for her. He was the only one to see her Klabauterman!! Usopp is not only creative and fun but is able to bring those creations to life, whether it be his drawings or his gadgets, and I think that’s so beautiful. I miss pre-TS because of all his inventions we got to see.

Let’s not forget that Usopp is so, so kind!! He made friends with the kids in his village and told stories to Kaya to help her feel better when she was ill. He fought to protect her and Syrup Village from Kuro. Personally, I will never get over filler ep on Fireworks Island (ep. 134) where he cheered up Kodoma and encouraged her to continue her pyrotechnics, assuring that her parents were proud of her. Knowing he also lost his parents at a young age makes the scene hit that much harder. (And again, he showed his genius by figuring out a way to launch the firework that killed Kodoma’s parents!!) It may not be canon to the manga but but I think that episode is super accurate to his character.

What I think makes him the most interesting is that we see his flaws and mistakes more than any of the other Straw Hats. We see his insecurities in Water 7 and his fear in Dressrosa. But we also see him growing and learning and being encouraged by his crewmates. Aside from Robin, I think Usopp has changed and grown the most out of the Straw Hats. With his goal to become a brave warrior of the sea he has so much potential for even more growth!!

Like I said earlier, some people think Usopp is annoying which he can be sometimes, but that’s also because he’s literally comic relief. And he does so well at it bc he’s actually so damn funny?? He makes me laugh out loud all the time. One Piece wouldn’t be even half as funny without Usopp.

I also appreciate that as an individual he has so many moments with the other Straw Hats. There are a lot of relationships that don’t get explored as much as we’d like, but I think we get to see Usopp’s friendships with the crew pretty often. He fights for Luffy, plays around with Chopper, teases Zoro, is teased by Robin, gossips with Nami, hangs around Sanji, and his whole relationship with Franky has so many layers to it.

Aaahh, I have so many hopes for Usopp in the series that I pray will be fulfilled!! I want him to have a badass arc in Elbaf full of character growth. I want to see him develop and continue to use his Haki (which he gained when trying to save Luffy are you KIDDING me). I want his reunion with Yasopp to be emotional and bittersweet. If he could personally beat Yasopp in a fight I would ascend to the heavens.

Usopp is such an important, complex, and interesting character and I absolutely hate to see him reduced to being a gag character or the weakest member of the Straw Hats. He may not be a monster but he is amazing and I love him.

TLDR; if you disrespect Usopp I wish you a very Die.

#usopp #god usopp #one piece usopp #op usopp #HE IS VERY IMPORTANT TO ME #anyone who disrespects usopp is a FOOL and BLIND and doesn’t deserve anything #he is so important to the series why won’t you guys get that #fellow usopp truthers hear my cries!! we will give our sniper the respect he deserves #one piece #strawhats #red’s ramblings #op meta

128 notes · View notes

bluegalaxygirl · 7 months

Text

caring for you

plot: Headcannons for how they would care for you before a procedure/surgery.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Chopper, Usopp, Nami, Robin, Franky, Brook and Jinbe.

So in two days im going in to hospital for a procedure and im starting to get nervous so i thought why not do this headcannon. I thought id try Law for the first time since i adore him. There will be platonic and romantic parts so you can read what ever section you like. Theres only three people im not doing lovers for and thats Chopper, Brook and Jinbe. hope you enjoy. I'll try and post after i get back but it may be a while. im planning on doing a series of this though. Reader is GN.

Warning: fluff, bad language.

PROLOGUE

^ The surgery/procedure will be taking place in a few days, Chopper and Law will be doing it and even though your trust them you cant help but be worried. you managed to keep it hidden but now that its only two days away the knot in your stomach has tightened some much you can hardly breath.

^Your friends have taken notice and want to help calm you down. The fact that your not eating or sleeping well has them worried for you.

LUFFY

^ His goal is to make you laugh and smile, silly faces, jokes, showing you cool things. he wants all his friends to be happy and healthy and knowing you weren't healthy meant he had to make you even more happy

^ The first thing he noticed was you not eating enough, it confused him and wondered if it was the food at first. he didn't take food off your plate anymore instead pushing some of his food onto your plate wondering if you would eat it.

^ you were too distracted by his actions to notice, it made you more nervous seeing the extra food on your plate. This continued for a while until asked why you weren't eating, it came out of no where but you explained. you had to be very clear otherwise he wouldn't understand. He told you about what he'ed been doing and it made you laugh, the smile on your face sparking a smile to for on his. he didn't do it again when you asked him to stop but at least he made you laugh.

^ Will run up to you and hug you, he used to slam into you but with Nami stopping him more often now he manages to catch himself and stop just before he hits you, then hugging you lightly. He trust Chopper and Traffy to look after you and tells you that all the time "You have the worlds best doctor looking after you and traffy" if he says it in front of everyone chopper goes all happy about it while Law yells at him "Im a doctor two you know"

^On the day he doesn't realize your leaving for a little while until your about to go, he gives you a hug and tells you come back and that the crew wont be the same without you.

Lovers:

^ Will give you his hat to where if your feeling really upset and sit on the head of the sunny with you one arm around your shoulder the other on your leg.

^ will take baths with you when you want too soaking in the warm water with him, he'll wash your back and lightly touch the place that is making you ill or in pain. "Does it hurt?" he asks but you shake your head turning to hug him "No, you make the pain go away" He cant help but smile and laugh at this, he's so happy he makes your pain go away.

^ He's a loud sleeper and sometimes hard to wake up but if you get up in the middle of the night he will shoot away feeling you no longer next to him "Midnight snack?" he asks always, he hopes its a yes so you'll eat something and he can join you.

ZORO

^ You tend to train with him and he pushes you to your limits but once he found out you needed surgery/procedure all that stopped, no more weight lifting no more push ups or sit up, no bench presses no matter how much you ask to train with him.

^ It annoyed you to no end, did he think you were weak or not worthy of you time, you both argued about it often soon reaching its boiling point. The crew noticed the tension between you two, Nami, Sanji and usopp telling him multiple times to calm down.

^ "Im worried about you ok?" Zoro snaps, realizing what he said he takes a step back. "You dont think im weak?" you ask and he nods "Of cause not". you two make up form there and he agrees to help you train but only small things, again no heavy stuff things that will hurt you.

^ Most of the time its just you helping him with his training. Sitting on his back when he does push up and things like that. you both dont talk much during this time but its normal, it makes you feel normal.

Lovers:

^ He sleeps alot and when he naps you have to nap. even if your not tired you need to sleep. he will drag you form what ever your doing either to sit on his lap and snooze or go to your bedroom where he would spoon you. "You, me, Nap, now" is all he will say to you.

^ He's always been protective but the part of your body thats getting worked on is 100% more protected than the rest of you. some one comes to close to it and they go flying, doesn't matter if its a crew member or not but he will let chopper touch there because he is a doctor after all.

^ HAS had a fight with Law over the surgery/procedure, the fight had to be stopped by multiple member of each crew. you had to calm him down and tell him everything is going to be ok. he just wanted you safe and healthy, you could see that and loved him for that.

^ The day you have to go he doesn't leave your side, he carries you to his morning work out not letting you raise a finger to help just wants you to sit there and watch while he shows off. its a great distraction but when its time to go he gives you a long kiss telling you he'll see you when you get back.

SANJI

^ Your not eating right and that a big No No for him. you need to keep your strength up, He made foods that were easy on the stomach and that contained a good amount of calories while also being small.

^ He didn't force you to finish your plate even when there wasn't much on it to begin with and tries to give you snacks more often threw out the day. Any drink he gave you had some kind of fruit chunks in it.

^ Because of this you felt like you could confide in him about how you were feeling. you told him how you felt sick all the time and every time you looked at food it made it worse. You love his food and want to eat it but your to nervous to eat. "Theres no need to worry im sure theres something we can get you to eat, even if its liquefied" sanji says with a pat on your head

^ You two have a long talk about what you would like to eat and how much, he suggests things like ginger, crackers and cheese and apples since those help settle a upset stomach. The advice he give helps make you feel better managing to eat a little bit more than normal.

^ Chopper will come and talk to him about foods you should be eating and what to avoid, of cause he knows all this but is happy to have chopper tell him again, he's secretly scared that he might have missed something off the list.

^Hours before your procedure/surgery your not aloud to eat or drink so he keeps food away form you as much as possible, he doesn't want you to see hungry at seeing the food he give everyone else

Lovers:

^ Expect lots of love and praise. This man will be on his knees telling you how amazing, strong and brave you are even when you feel like dieing inside. He will touch the part of you that's going to get worked on and tell you that no matter what even if it leaves a scar he will still love you.

^ "My love, you'll be just fine its normal to be nervous, im here for you." His hands cupping your cheeks making you look up at him. "Thank you Sanji... I'll be fine, i have you looking after me" those words shoot a spark through his heart, he loves you so much it hurts.

^ Will get up in the middle of the night if you cant sleep, you dont want him to stay up with you other wise he'll be up all night but that doesn't stop him, he will hold you close to him and place soft light kisses on your cheek whispering sweet things to help you sleep

^ Will NOT smoke around you, if you come near him while he's smoking its out immediately. I don't know much about whats going to happen but he knows you system needs to be clear of any medication or substances that includes second had smoke.

LAW

^ He didn't notice your nerves until he found you in choppers office asking all kinds of questions. You had been hiding it well and he thought the straw hat crew were just overreacting but he pieced it all togeather in that moment, you didn't eat much, you fell asleep during the day and you never spent a moment by yourself.

^ He did the only thing he could think off, chopper talking to you helped but you were still not eating right or sleeping so he asked if you wanted to see his ship. it was strange to you but agreed since law had a small smile on his face as he asked.

^He walked you threw the sub stopping at one and opening the door for you. he took you to see the operating room. "I thought seeing the place would make it less... scary" he hesitated not liking the word chose but it was better than any other in his head.

^ He like chopper talked you threw what would happen, showing you some of the less scary tools he would be using. it was scary at first but seeing everyone up close and knowing that it wasn't going to touch you now made you feel better, you had time to think and adjust.

^ If you up late you can always go to law he's most likely up in his office studying something. you can drink tea with him and sit in silence. Law will sometimes ask Bepo to come in and comfort you knowing the big white bear will hug you and talk with you.

^ The day of the surgery/procedure he gets everything ready with choppers help. some of his crew are there to help. he always had his stuff on when you enter the room chopper leading the way. he asks how you are but other than that he's mainly focused on his job.

Lovers:

^ As he would explain things he would touch you. using his fingers to show where and what would happen. it was a weird sensation and you couldn't take your eyes off him.

^ Unfortunately he was in his own little world explaining things to you that he didn't notice you had started silently crying. everything up to this point had been building up, you didn't want to be alone and yet you needed to be alone in order to get your fear and tears out. This moment seemed like the only calm one you've had in a while.

^ You hugged him out of no where setting him back but he noticed the tears you were shedding. This poor man had no idea what to do, he made you cry and he didn't even realize you were upset. "Im so scared. why am i scared? i shouldn't be, i trust you but..." he stops you form saying more with a kiss, it was sweet but also a little rough "Its natural. I'll do everything i can to make you better. just name it" He asks pulling away form you lips.

^This beautiful man will do anything for you as long as it doesn't interfere with the surgery/procedure. He will lay with you in bed if you want him, he will get you food or water when you need it, he will hold you close to him while he studies. what ever it takes to make you feel loved.

CHOPPER

^ You trust chopper but the unknown scares you so thats what he wants to help with. you two will sit in his office going over what will happen before, during and after. he answers all your questions and will explain anything you dont understand.

^ He tries not to use too many medical words but if he does he explains them. He knows the others are helping you in different areas but he wants to help with that too. he cant give you any meds to help you relax. you cant have any meds in your system before hand except the ones he gives you on the day.

^ When he sees you nervous he'll take off his hat and place your hand on his head with a smile. "touching something warm and fluffy can elevate levels of serotonin and dopamine, in other words it makes people happy and relaxed. so if you need too you can touch my fur" You can't help but love this boy, so sweet and smart.

^ When ever you thank him and call him doctor he goes all shy and calls you names but with a big smile on his face. you end up doing this deliberately since it makes you smile. he's so cute waving his arms around.

^ Chopper of cause worries about your food intake and sleeping pattern. He makes sure to have a talk with Sanji about food and whats best for you even though he knows that Sanji has it covered and knows way more about food than he does. As for sleep, he will sometimes sneak into your room to check on you. if your awake he will crawl into bed with you telling you that sleep is important. he cuddles with you mainly falling asleep way before you but he brings you comfort.

^ The day of the surgery/procedure he's helping law get everything ready before walking with you to the operating room. he takes your hand with a smile telling you your in good hands and theres nothing to worry about. "Don't worry, i'll be there the whole time"

USOPP

^ He doesn't know what to do. when his mum was sick he used to make jokes and tell stories, he did the same with Kaya but neither of them responded the way you did. The jokes he made caused you anxiety to boil over.

^ You tried to hid it form him knowing he was only trying to help but you would brake down when you were alone. Usopp found you though and tried to comfort him. when he realized it was him that upset you he apologized over and over again. You didn't want him to be sorry, he was only trying to help.

^ When ever you needed a shoulder to cry on Usopp was your man and his stories, although full of lies, would cheer you up, they were silly and full of life, it distracted you form what was going to come and he made sure to make then bigger and better each time.

^ He worries about you not eating and almost treats you like a child, its not amusing and no matter how hard you stare daggers at him he doesn't let up, its normally Nami or Zoro who end up hitting him over the head

^ "Choo Choo, here comes the train Y/N" He smiles the spoon full of food gliding it over to you only to be hit on the head "Will you knock it off" Nami yells making you laugh at poor usopp on the floor.

Lovers:

^ He will make wooden flowers for you, all your favorite kind made out of different types of wood, giving you one each day, treating you like a princess.

^ Sleeping next to him at night is strange though, you'll just lay there wide away unable to sleep as he drools on your shoulder fast asleep. You never realized before that he talks in his sleep. your boring night's turn into entertaining nights.

^ "Yay..... beat that dragon Y/N..... No luffy we cant eat it.... ok maybe we can" You try to hold your laughs in, he thinks highly of you and has so many funny dreams. you wont tell him about it though not wanting to spoil your little secret.

^ On the day you have to go he gives you one last wooden flower, its one he's been making form the start, its not too big but its perfect, no sharp edges, perfectly smooth, perfectly shaped petals leaves and stem. He hugs you telling you good luck before you leave.

NAMI

^ The best person to go to in this situation. she knows how to relax, a warm bath, face masks, hot stones, you name it she has the stuff for it and will happily help you relax.

^ She will get little bags of lavender for you, the smell clams you and you can keep it on you at all times. After dinner is when she suggests hot towels, face masks and cucumber over the eyes. "Time for a spar day, get ready to relax" she cheers handing you the stuff you need.

^ You two will sit on her bad listening to the sound of ocean hot stones on your back relaxing your muscles and calming your mind. You both dont talk just basking in the silence and the feeling of the heat. Sometimes Robin will join you two the three of you relaxing when ever you can. she always seems to find new ways to relax and shares it with you as long as your ok with it.

^ She's very worried about your eating but wont show it, she knows sanji can take care of it but the only problem is usopp. every time he tries to feed you she hits him, your not a child and putting focus on you to eat may make things worse.

^ When its time for you to go she will hug you with a big smile saying you'll be just fine and when you get back she'll paint your nails (it doesn't matter if your a boy she will still do it).

Lovers:

^ She can be clueless when it comes to knowing how to deal with you in this situation. your her lover and you two get along great, you always there for her and now she needs to be there for you. other than the relaxation she doesn't know what else to do.

^ She over thinks things sometimes doing too much but you know she loves you and just wants you to feel safe. Its you that has to reassure her.

^"I'm supposed to be the one helping you not the other way around. Gods i cant do anything right" she cry's something she hates doing but this vulnerable side of her shows you how much she cares for you. "Nami... you caring is the only thing i need" you say before kissing her.

^ She has trouble sleeping just like you do, she'll stay up with you and talk about anything and everything. she also try to make you fall asleep by shoving your head back down onto the pillow and whispering to you. she remembers what her mum used to say and repeats those things, it surprisingly works, the calmness in her voice and the feeling of her next to you gives you so much comfort.

ROBIN

^ You can talk to her about anything even if they are incoherent fears and worries, she holds no judgment and doesn't push them away, instead understanding and helping you threw it. she validates your feelings but gives you logic to counteract those feelings. "Its completely normal to feel this but just remember, its very unlikely for that to happen and you have the two best doctors looking after you"

^ She knows what herbal teas will be good for anxiety and helps Sanji make the tea for you, she'll drink it with you as you talk about things. she knows exactly what to say but she also doesn't sugar coat things, she wont lie to save your feelings but thats a good thing, you need someone to be straight with you.

^ She will try and help you relax joining Nami in self care, she'll rub your shoulders and back sometimes using her devil fruit powers to massage your legs as well, unsurprisingly she is very good with her hands and knows all the best places to rub.

^ She will sun bath with you and Nami on the ship now and again readjusting the umbrella with her devil fruit powers to keep the sun off you if you've been out there a while. You sometimes get so relaxed that you fall asleep, Robin making sure the sun doesn't burn your skin while you rest.

Lovers:

^ She will read to you when you cant sleep, this woman is a god sent, her calm demeanor and voice helps sooth you making you more tired than before. her soft book reads her book out in almost a whispers. Sometimes she gets so lost in the book that she doesn't even notice you've fallen asleep.

^ Once she realises your asleep she'll kiss your forehead and lay down next to you taking your hand in hers "Good night my darling, i love you" she whispers before falling asleep.

^ She will hold you hand when ever she sees you nervous, the touch relaxing you a little knowing she is there for you. She wont leave your side all that much wanting to be there in case you have a panic attack or feel ill.

^ When you have to go she will give you one of her favorite books and tells you to read it after its all over and she'll see you as soon as she can, flashing you her beautiful smile and kissing your cheek.

FRANKY

^ He is your hype man, always cheering you on. he'll show off new things he's working on or has made weather big or small most of the time trying to get you involved. he hopes it will take you mind off things.

^ He knows what its like to go threw a surgery/procedure, he's had many, many done in the past. he wont give advice on it though, his situation is different to yours and knows that Chopper and Law can deal with anything like that.

^ The only thing he will tell you is funny stories of things he did and said while coming out of the anesthesia, it always made you laugh but you did worry about what you would say or do in that situation. "I woke up and screamed IV TRAVAILED INTO THE FUTURE, IM A TIME LORD"

^ He assures you that no matter what you say or do no one will care, he on the other hand will 100% remind you of what you said after words but wont tell you that.

Lovers:

^ he will offer you his cola when ever you look thirsty, even if its his last one, he wants you to have it, he'll sit with you at dinner and most of the time not finish his plate. he thinks that by leaving food on his plate it will make you feel better about the fact you cant eat much and sometimes it works other times it doesn't, its a hit or miss situation.

^ You always lay on top of him when you sleep, he doesn't want to roll over and crush you but its also perfect. you listen to his heart beat, his calm and sleepy state keeps you relaxed. when you really cant sleep you can always wake him up, he wont mind and will stay up with you a little longer kissing you and telling you how cool and super you are.

^ the day you gave to go he does cry "Oh baby your SUPER amazing. So Brave to take this on" he yells as he sits in his knees looking at you. it makes you laugh but also filled with love. you feel more confident about it all now.

BROOK

^ Expect an extensive amount of Bone jokes, even if its not going to be a surgery/Procedure on your bones, he's still going to make jokes to see you laugh.

^" Who is the coolest doctor in the hospital?" Brook will just randomly appear beside you telling a joke "The hip consultant." He laughs even if you groan at him for bad jokes but at least the thought is there. his goal is to make your ribs hurt with laughter even when he's told off by a member of the crew.

^ "Why was the skeleton laughing??? because he hit his funny bone" he laughs not even looking at your unamused face "Brook that was the worst one yet" Brook bends down to you with lifeless eyes "We'll than i guess i'll have to try another, this one is a real RIB tickler" you couldn't help but groan.

^ If he finds you up at night he will sit with you and play his violin, keeping it calm and soothing. it makes you sleepy and if you do fall asleep he wont stop, he'll keep playing until he falls asleep. The music soothing the two of you.

^ A few hours before you have to go he will ask if you want to listen to a song to help calm you down. your nerves are really starting to show and of cause you take him up on the offer hoping to clam you down. Again the song is calming and soothing helping you to relax.

JINBE

^ He can sense your nerves and knows its not an easy thing to go threw so he does what he does best and thats teach. He teaches you how to relax yourself, some breathing techniques and meditation. If you breathing is off at anytime he will help you telling you to "Breath in for 5 and out for 5, imagine a square follow the lines as you breath in and out" its surprising how much that helped

^ He'll sit with you if he finds you doing it on your own, no words spoken just two friends sitting beside each other, His calmness seems to make you ten times more calm.

^ He will also teach you a bit of fish man Yoga, you didn't even know it was a thing ans was surprised by how easy it was, it didn't put any strain on your body but also helped relax your muscles, the fluid movement keeping your breathing deep and steady.

^ A few hours before you have to go he sits with you to do another calming exercise and tells you again how to breath and relax. he tells you there is nothing to be afraid of and that your in the best hands possible. "You''ll be just fine, your in capable hand."

257 notes · View notes

undercoverpena · 6 months

Text

its the sniffles

Frankie Morales x Reader

He wants nothing more than to come home and take care of you.

an: I’m sick with the flu, and I’m self-indulging so, thought I’d share. No warnings: just fluff, maybe my spelling as I am very ill.

Frankie would know, even if you keep pretending down the phone it isn’t as bad as it seems. “Its the sniffles”, the lie rolling free, dripping from your tongue as you fight that tickle in the back of your throat. Trying to bury it. Smother it. Only for a sneeze to rip out and echo around your home.

He doesn’t blame you for lying—he’d been looking forward to this job for weeks. What he doesn’t like is that he knows you’re suffering, that it’s likely the days are beginning to blur into one.

The last time you were this bad, it took you weeks to admit to him that you became so delirious you forgot he was working away and went looking for him.

It’s because he knows it’s bad if you’re lying, as to why he comes home early.

Knows you’re fighting dizzy spells, exhaustions, as well as scratches in your throat, because he did notice that you kept trying to mute the phone when you went to cough or sneeze—only to mute it when you were talking instead.

It fuelled him, the need to be there for you. Each image of you he concocted of you on the sofa or crawling out of bed tugging on him, wrapping fingers around threads inside of him, and yanking. So much so, he drives back through the night—stepping through the front door as the sun begins to rise, spotting how the coffee table (that had once been wood, magazines and candles) is now tissues, mugs and medicine.

Removing his boots, dropping his duffel and hanging his hat, all in that order, Frankie moves in pursuit to find you. He passes the bathroom bin in the doorway of the living room, used tissues spilling out over it. Finds the blanket, usually folded over the sofa, now thrown across one of the dining room chairs and the sea of mugs, so many of them, bottles and tablets (all cold and flu), cluttering across the usually tidy kitchen counter. All of it making his heart hurt, ache.

He’s only pleased when he finds you in the centre of your two’s bed. One of his old t-shirts on, eyes closed, breathing heavy—there’s a balled up tissues in your palm and the sheets pulled up to your chin. And without touching you, he knows you’re warm, clammy—riddled with an illness he wished he’d been here to help you fight.

Sitting beside you, he brushes his fingers against your cheeks. Hearing the way you breathing changes, your nose blocked, congested, before you slowly flutter your lashes open, finding him, basking him in warmth and happiness that he’s there. But still you blink—quite a few times—likely ensuring you’re aware and not dreaming. Before your cough smothers the room, words lost, buried in a sea of spluttering as you sit up, and his hand finds your back. Just distinctly, between each hacking and a sneeze, he just makes out you mumbling ‘you’re here?’

It’s then he spots his jumper, the thick one—the one with flecks of gold and white embedded in blues and greens, hanging on the door of the wardrobe. Your voice down the phone coming to him, “can I wear your jumper?” “You missing me?” Your feeble yes falling as his something tightened in his chest when you thanked him for saying yes. He wants to pull it over your head now, pull you close, something he suggests, before beginning to offer to make you food, bring the duvet to the sofa and have a movie day, weekend—

“You should stay away. I don’t want—you could get really sick.”

Hands still rubbing circles on your back as he hands you the glass of water from the table. “Don’t care, baby. I wanted to come home and take care of you,” he whispers, kissing your forehead, pulling you close. “Wish I’d been here sooner, honestly.”

Because you’re worse than he thought. Far worse. And all he can do is wear a smile, guilt swelling in his chest—because he should have been here, should have come home sooner.

You must read him, the same way he does you. Your head tilting to look up at him, eyes weary, full of tears from your coughing, as your hand slides over his. “You’re here now.”

“I am,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, feeling your body curl into his. His eyes closing, feeling content.

And then you sneeze.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #Frankie catfish morales x reader #Frankie morales fanfiction #Frankie morales x you #Francisco morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction

203 notes · View notes

pedroshotwifey · 7 months

Text

Bad Idea

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Tags/Warnings: NO use of Y/N, sex pollen, dubcon but not rly (just putting this here bc of the pollen), piv sex, softdom Frankie, smut, fluff, friends to lovers, Frankie is a fucking sweetheart, oral sex (f receiving), breeding kink if you squint, unsafe sex (wrap it before u tap it, babes), ill add more shit later if I missed something

Summary: While on a mission, you and Frankie find yourselves covered in some kind of pollen and realize that there is no chance you'll be able to resist each other.

A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to finish this, I hope it was worth the wait! I'm not really sure what compelled me to make this so fluffy, but it's there, so, like, I hope you people like fluff. Likes, comments, and reposts are extremely appreciated <3 (Also feel I would love to start getting some requests in if anyone's up for it)

***

You knew this was a bad idea.

It always is, accepting any kind of job that Santi offers you. But the asshole knows your weakness. He mentioned Frankie would be there and you were in. Suckered once again. He, and the rest of the group for that matter, seem to be well aware of your infatuation. Except for Frankie, of course. He’s never really seemed to pick up on it. Which, honestly, you’re not sure is a good thing or not.

You’ve been harboring a massive crush on Frankie since the first time you were introduced. You and Santi–against your better judgment–had been longtime friends when he brought you to a local bar to meet up with some of his other buddies. You had been away on a job for the last year or so, so when he heard you were back in town he jumped at the opportunity. You hadn’t expected much, already knowing Ben and Will meant that you would only be meeting two guys you wouldn’t be familiar with.

What you really didn’t expect was for one of them to be a devilishly handsome and ridiculously charming bachelor. Frankie had absolutely taken your breath away the first time you laid eyes on him. You two had hit it off immediately, practically separating from the rest of the group as you polished off drinks and told stories from your military days for the remainder of the night.

Fortunately, you kept in touch through mutuals and occasionally worked together on smaller jobs–thank god for Santi. (But also fuck him.) Unfortunately, nothing ever came of it. Frankie never showed any kind of explicit interest in you, so you never pushed it. You were perfectly content to just be friends if that’s all he was willing to give you.

That's exactly why it’s such a problem when you find yourself coated head to toe in some kind of powder, right next to Frankie, who received a dusting as well. Your walkie is going off at your hip and you briefly register Tom’s voice coming through the receiver. He is positioned right behind the two of you and got the perfect view of whatever the fuck just happened. One second the two of you were walking, looking for any signs of landmines or traps around the building you are targeting for the mission, and the next your vision was completely compromised by a soft yellow pollen.

“Fuckkk,” you hear Frankie mutter next to you. You look at him with wide eyes as the powder settles on your skin, eliciting a tingling sensation wherever it touches. The said sensation, however, becomes the least of your problems when you feel the amount of slick that suddenly coats your panties. Your knees buckle and you have to drop your gun to hold your balance, which doesn’t seem to help much as you continue your descent to the forest floor. Frankie’s hand quickly shoots out and steadies you by your elbow but it only makes it worse.

The feeling of his skin on yours acts as a balm on your quickly overheating flesh and you moan involuntarily at the feeling. He retracts his hand as if you had burned him and the action would have embarrassed you if not for the moan that slips out of Frankie’s lips, as if he had felt the same thing. At least it’s not just you. At the sound, you feel another wave of arousal coat your already-soaked panties, the wetness growing extremely uncomfortable as the fabric starts to stick to your cunt.

“Uh, F-Frankie,” your voice sounds weak as you call for him. You have no idea whether or not he heard you, but you take a guess based on the pained groan that escapes his lips. The sound is like heaven as it reaches your ears.

Your vision grows slightly blurry as a sudden need to be fucked takes over all of your senses. Without Frankie’s hand to help you up, you let yourself fall the rest of the way so you can lie down on the ground beneath you. You watch as Frankie’s blurred form follows suit with a groan. You start to inch toward his writhing body until you hear Tom’s voice again, this time it sounds much clearer, like the connection is getting better as he gets closer to you. You struggle as you pick up your walkie and press the button.

“D-don’t come any closer, we're covered in some kind of f-fucking pollen.” You have to take a breath before explaining further. “It’s itchy and it’s everywhere, stay where you’re at.” You don’t bother listening to his panicked response as you tuck the walkie back into the clip on your pants. Your skin feels tight and you can feel your clit starting to throb between your legs. It feels like the smallest amount of friction would grant you an orgasm, and as good as that sounds right now, you would rather not cream your pants in front of your crush.

“Fuck,” Frankie repeats his statement from earlier, his voice strained and raspy. “We need to get out of here.” You nod your agreement and crawl your way toward him, ignoring the way his skin feels so cool against your own as you reach out to help him up. The both of you use each other to get back to your feet. By the time you’re standing, the feeling is less overwhelming than it had been at first, enough so that you’re able to hold your balance this time. You pick up the weapons you had dropped while Frankie comms the rest of the guys to let them know what happened

You definitely got the most of the blow, as you were the one who had stepped on whatever the fuck that plant was. Frankie had only been a few feet behind you and had been exposed to a good bit, but likely nowhere near what you had been covered in. At least one of you is lucid enough to figure out what to do next. You hear the tail end of the conversation before Frankie signs off of the walkie and bends down next to you.

“Alright, Hermosa, I’m going to get you out of here, okay?” You hiss as Frankie wraps his arms around your sensitive skin, picking you up bridal style.

“Fuck, Frankie, it hurts,” you whine and tuck your head into his neck, breathing in his scent. He is shaking slightly and even you can feel the way his skin has started to heat up. “I know, sweetheart, just hold on for me.” You nod into him and close your eyes, only opening them when you feel your body being set down in what you assume is the passenger seat of Frankie’s truck. He leans over you and you have to resist the urge to grab onto him as he buckles you in.

You close your eyes again and wait until you hear Frankie get into the driver’s seat before you speak.

“I think I saw a motel a few miles from here.” Your throat feels like sandpaper as you struggle to get the words out. “I think I saw it, too.” Frankie’s voice doesn’t sound much better. The entire way to the motel the only thing you can focus on is how your nipples are rubbing painfully against your bra and how fucking bad you want to suck this man’s cock. Your thighs keep clenching and rubbing together and you have to bite down on your lip so as not to moan at the slight pressure. You feel like you’re going to explode.

“Think you can walk, sweetheart?” You nod at Frankie’s question as he turns the truck off. His voice still sounds pained and you’re not even sure if yours will work at this point. He keeps one arm around you just in case as the two of you walk into the motel. He gets keys for two rooms and you feel a twinge of disappointment. It only lasts a second though, because you can’t think of much else than the fact that everything feels hot and sensitive.

As soon as Frankie gets the keys, he leads you to the rooms. They're side by side so you won’t be far from him, and the fact that he will be in such close proximity, likely doing exactly what you’ll be doing, is enough to cloud your judgment again. And fuck, now you’re thinking about his cock again. You know it has to be big, there’s no way it isn’t, not for a man like him. Frankie sets one hand on the small of your back and leans over you to unlock your room for you. You gasp to cover your moan as you suddenly feel something else against your back, definitely not his hand this time.

“You’ll be okay?” Frankie’s concerned tone cuts you out of your spiraling thoughts. You look up into his own lust-blown eyes. He looks fucking wrecked. God, you would get on your knees in the middle of this dirty hallway for him right now if he only asked. “Yeah, you?” You ask when he doesn’t. He nods slowly, and you let your eyes fall to his plush lips before trailing back up to meet his gaze again. He says your name lowly, like a warning, and you lick your lips, ignoring his tone.

You roll your hips back against his while keeping eye contact, watching Frankie groan as you grind on him. His hands fall to your hips and he begins to guide you against him. “W-why don’t you come inside?” You ask him breathily. “Are you sure that's what you want?” He steadies your hips and brings his face down so he can whisper in your ear. “If you let me in there, I’m not letting you leave until I’ve properly taken you apart.” You shiver at both the way his words elicit another gush of slick from your cunt and at the way his tone turns dark so quickly, letting you know he means it.

Instead of answering him, you turn on your heel and crush your lips to his, your hands going up to wrap around his neck and thread your fingers through his hair, knocking his hat to the ground. Frankie moans deeply and grabs onto you as he guides you backward into the room. His tongue finds its way into your mouth as he slams you against the door once it's closed, both of you grinding against each other like desperate teenagers. He only breaks apart once he hears you whine in pure desperation.

He steps back and takes in your disheveled appearance, his hand flying to the front of his pants to rid himself of his belt. “Strip, get on the bed.” You don’t need to be told twice. You practically rip your clothes off as you stumble through the room. Each article removed feels like a relief, allowing the cool air to kiss your skin, sticky with sweat. Frankie does the same, both of you completely naked by the time you reach the bed. The sight of his cock hanging flushed and heavy between his molded thighs makes your mouth water.

He quickly climbs on top of you and you both moan at the way your flesh brushes together, temporarily soothing the burning sensation. Frankie wastes no time in lowering himself to a position easiest to lick into your aching cunt.

The first stroke of his tongue makes you scream out and you bring your hand up to cover your mouth. He immediately starts eating you out like a starved man, licking and sucking and fucking you with his tongue like there’s no tomorrow. You throw your head back as your free hand buries itself in Frankie’s hair. He groans when you tug on the strands and you swear you can feel the vibrations run up your spine.

You feel the knot in your stomach growing embarrassingly fast, your entire body tensing as you reach the edge.

“F-fuck, Frankie, fuck-” you unsucessfully attempt to get a sentence out. “God, don’t stop, please, god!” You feel him smirk as he continues his assault, before taking your clit into his mouth and sucking hard.

You think you scream as you climax, but you can’t be sure. There is nothing you can feel, see, or hear other than the orgasm Frankie is currently riding you through. It’s the most intense thing you have ever felt, and you don't know if it's because of the pollen or because it’s Frankie. Probably a good bit of both.

He continues to eagerly lap up your release until you pull him away when the overstimulation starts to become too much. Hand still in his hair, you guide him up your body until you can look above you and into his eyes. Your heavy breathing catches in your throat when you see the sticky liquid dripping down the lower half of his face.

“Oh my god…” you trail off as his smile widens, his tongue coming out to lick his bottom lip. “Look so fuckin’ beautiful when you squirt, Hermosa.” He brings his lips down to yours in a bruising kiss and you sigh as you taste your release on him. Needless to say, you get over your embarrassment pretty quickly.

Despite your orgasm, your skin seems to burn even more than before, and your clit seems to throb out of control. All it takes is one look to know that Frankie feels the same way. His eyes are filled to the brim with tears getting ready to overflow and you have no doubt that your expression matches his own.

Before either one of you gets a chance to say anything, Frankie surges forward and encases your lips in his own. He kisses you sloppily as he pushes you back even deeper into the mattress.

“Gonna f-fuck you now, Hermosa,” he says, his voice bordering a whine. “Need to feel this soft fucking pussy.” You whine in a way you hope signals your agreement, your arms wrapping underneath Frankie’s to let your fingers claw at his back. “Just f-fucking hurry,” you manage to squeak, your skin burning as you grasp at him.

He listens, immediately scrambling to grasp his weeping cock and guide it to your sopping entrance while keeping one forearm settled next to your head for stability. There is almost no resistance as he slips in, bottoming out in one frantic thrust. The two of you moan in unison, capturing each other's desperate noises.

Frankie wastes no time in setting a hurried pace. The force of his thrusts makes the headboard of the bed slam against the wall but you can’t find it in you to care. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he immediately starts to hit something heavenly within you. The pressure is already building up in your abdomen.

You open your mouth to scream but you find that the punch of his thrusts are restricting your ability to make any kind of sound. Your eyes close as your second orgasm sneaks up on you. With two more frenzied thrusts from Frankie, you’re coming undone around his thick cock.

Frankie hisses as you squeeze around him, the added sensitivity from the pollen enhancing every small stimulant.

“God, not gonna last long in this s-sweet cunt, pretty girl.” Frankie’s voice is pitched an octave higher than usual as he tries to stave off his own orgasm–damn well bordering a whine. You can feel how close he is by the way his dick pulses with need and by the way he clings tighter tighter to the bedsheets beside your head.

“Go ahead, Frankie, need you to come inside me.” He practically whimpers at the request but shakes his head to juxtapose the noise.

“N-no baby, give me o-one more first.” He’s shaking with the amount of effort he’s exerting to hold off. Almost as if your body is listening to his demands before you can process, you find yourself arching your back as you spasm around his cock once again. It takes you by surprise–you didn’t even realize you were that close.

Completely fucked out, you let Frankie use your body to chase his own end. “Come on baby, mark me, come inside,” you slur your permission for a second time. He lets out a guttural groan as he lowers his head to nuzzle into your neck. His strokes get deeper with the lower position and you wince from the overstimulation, though you want more at the same time.

“Yeah, Hermosa, that’s what you want, huh? Let me come inside this pretty pussy, let everyone know who you belong to now? Let everyone know that you’re fucking ruined for any other man?” His pace gets more frantic as his own words spur him on. You whine at the thought of the people knowing that Frankie fucked you, laid his claim on you, made you his.

“Yes, Frankie, God please,” you keen into his ear as you bring one of your hands down to tangle your fingers into his curls, bringing him closer into your neck. “I’m yours, all yours, take what you want, baby.”

Your words push Frankie off the edge and his teeth lock onto your neck while he comes to a stop deep inside you. You pull him closer still, encouraging him to leave his mark. As his seed floods into your cunt, it feels like you jumped into a pool of cool water. Your entire body relaxes further and by the way Frankie settles his weight onto you, you figure he feels the same way.

After his dick stills and softens inside you, the two of you lay there for a moment. You run your fingers through Frankies messed hair while he licks over the mark he made on your throat. It feels like the most natural thing, laying there with him tangled in your arms, his head on your chest, both of you on the verge of sleep. You’re about to drift off when Frankie interrupts the silence in a gentle tone.

“Been wanting to do that for so long, pretty girl,” he says quietly, his voice filled with sleep. Your eyes open and are immediately filled with tears.

Frankie must sense the way you tense up because he quickly lifts up to look at you. You can see the panic that blooms in his eyes as he meets yours. Before he is able to say anything, though, you surge forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and planting your lips onto his.

You feel a few tears drop from your closed eyes, but you ignore them as you continue to kiss him and push until he’s forced to lay on his back, pulling you with him. When you finally separate, you stare into eachothers eyes, both of you with lopsided, love-drunk smiles.

“Me too. I’ve wanted you for so long, Fish, you have no idea.”

“You’re right,” He huffs a laugh as he says it. “I had no idea, I never thought you could feel that way about me. You’re so fucking perfect and I don’t deserve any part of you. I'm just…” he trails off and looks down for a second before meeting your gaze again.

You give him a slightly confused look as you answer him. “I thought I was being so obvious,” you laugh quietly in return. “I’m nowhere near perfect, sweet boy. Even if I was, you deserve anything you could ever want. I want you, Frankie. Do I deserve you?”

He doesn’t miss a beat before he has you pulled into his chest. “Of course, angel, you deserve everything, I’ll give you anything.”

You’re crying again and you wipe away your tears before saying what you need to say. “I love you, Frankie.” You look into his eyes to see that he is tearing up as well.

“I love you too, my perfect girl,” he says softly as he pulls you into a hug and rocks you, his one of his hands on the back of your head, tucking you into his chest. You close your eyes and breath in his scent, knowing that this is where you belong.

pt. 2??

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #smut #pedro pascal smut #frankie morales #fluff #triple frontier

159 notes · View notes