Hi my loves! This is my master list. I'll be working on these throughout time, I'll do my best to keep it on a schedule so the wait isn't too bad. Feel free to request <3
Based on this Ask from my lovely @wildemaven and on this Ask from my new mutual @prettylilhalforc - here's a Frankie Morales giant 9k-word super-fic for you guys!! (Moodboard by the lovely and super talented @wildemaven 💖)
I've never done this before for a fic, but here's the song that was in my head the whole time I was thinking about this story!
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Word count: 9100+
Rating: explicit/mature, 18+ only
Outline: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x “Lucky”, a 30-something combat medic (cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)
Warnings: curse words and vulgar language; mentions of masturbating; Frankie praising you; oral sex/F receiving; protected P/V sex; hickeys/M receiving; slight hair pulling/M receiving; primal Frankie if you squint real hard; one instance of Frankie restraining reader’s wrists with his hands; Frankie is a little insecure about himself but we make him feel good
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You weren’t sure what was worse, the thong riding up your crack or the skirt you were constantly tugging down. The dress was too unlike you. Too tight on the top and too short on the bottom, the color too bold. The whole thing was too much. And you trusted your baby sister Cici, you really did, but this was too… “her” to be comfortable.
You cursed yourself for all of the tiny missteps along the way, all the little ‘alternate universe’ decisions where you could have stopped this fiasco by insisting on a different dress, or insisting that your mom come with you to the mall to act as a buffer against Cecilia’s gentle bullying, or insisting that you could just wear what was in your closet to Santi’s engagement party. But, oh no... “Sissy” had to have her way, always.
You loved your baby sister, and you mostly trusted her to help you with this stuff on occasion. Cecilia was never a mess, and she always smelled good and looked polished, and she had a constant stream of girlfriends lined up for dates… you just didn’t trust her to “get” you. She didn’t trust tomboy, blood-and-dirt since birth “Lucky” to dress up nice or be society-page material, any more than you trusted Little Miss “Ewww no blood or gross stuff ever!” to bandage a kitchen knife injury or a bullet wound.
So you let Cici drag you to the mall, after she insisted that your “all-purpose” black dress (which had gotten you through ten years worth of funerals, job interviews and holiday parties just fine) was all wrong for Santi’s engagement party. She had insisted that you would not find anything suitable at the standard department stores where your mom and aunties had shopped for decades. She had insisted that you try on armloads of ridiculous outfits at her favorite store. She had insisted that the sapphire blue color looked fantastic on every skin tone on Earth. She had insisted that the asymmetrical one-sleeved monstrosity looked ‘chic’ and not bizarre. She had insisted that you purchase a black lace thong and a matching strapless bra to wear under it because your usual “girl boxers” and sports bra would not do. She had insisted that you buy little black strappy shoes to go with it, and a tiny little non-functional purse that was only big enough to hold a credit card and a lipstick. She had insisted that you sit at the makeup counter and let a woman with really bold eyebrows decorate your face. She had insisted on dragging you to a mani-pedi appointment, on waxing your legs, on this and that, over and over during the entire 5-hour ordeal. She had even talked you into buying a new perfume, although you did win the argument over purchasing just a tiny rollerball and not an entire large bottle, because what if you hated it and it went to waste? And you liked spending time with Cici, because that was rare these days, but the whole thing just felt too extravagant, too alien, too weird.
So here you were, 7:30 p.m. sharp, ringing the doorbell at Santi’s fiancée’s parents house (no, mansion actually) out in the fucking hills, looking weird and smelling weird and feeling weird. But it was too late now. Might as well just get this over with, and maybe after the party you could change into the sweats and sneakers you always kept in your car for emergencies. Maybe Frankie or Will or Benny (or all three) would want to sneak out of the party early and go grab a beer.
The giant door flew open and a woman who you guessed was Santi’s future mother-in-law greeted you with a beaming smile.
“You must be Lucky!” She wrapped you in a big hug, and you angled your face awkwardly, worried about accidentally smearing your lipstick on her spotless champagne-colored cardigan. “I’m Linda. It’s so nice to meet you! Please come in and meet everyone.”
You let her usher you into the party, introducing you to ten or twelve relatives who you knew you would never see again after the wedding, and you would probably forget them before the end of the party because you were terrible with names anyway. You let Linda press a cold drink into your hand while you awkwardly tried to shake hands and juggle the drink and your little stupid purse at the same time. How the fuck does Cici manage this shit? You grinned at everyone while inwardly groaning and casting your gaze about for a familiar face. And then, thank the stars above, there was Santi, pulling you into a bear hug and giving you a big kiss on the cheek.
“Lucky! You look amazing. Let me guess, Cici fixed you up?”
“You know it.” You gave him a wry smile.
“Well, Fish is in the kitchen if you want to go say hi, and the Millers are in the library.” Then Santi lowered his voice to murmur in your ear. “You can escape back there and I’ll spare you the torture of wedding talk with my future in-laws.”
You sighed with relief as Pope released you, and you gave him a parting wink, said hello to a few more people, and made your way toward the kitchen. Fish was standing at a butcher block island that was bigger than your bathtub, helping himself to little finger sandwiches and chatting with a short, heavyset woman you instantly recognized as Santi’s grandmother.
“Miss Sofia!” You crossed the kitchen and set your drink and purse on the counter, then gave her a big hug and let her kiss you on both cheeks. You released her and turned to Fish, seeing a look of absolute shock on his face. You were in no mood for any bullshit comments or teasing, so you let Frankie wrap you in a warm hug and put your mouth to his ear, threatening him in a low growl.
"Fish, I swear on all that is holy, if you say a word about this damn dress..." You scowled at him as you pulled away, and then turned back to Santi’s abuela with a warm smile, propping your hip against the countertop next to Frankie.
“Miss Sofia, it’s so good to see you again. Are you excited about the wedding?”
“Sí, it’s going to be beautiful. Santiago’s girlfriend has everything planned out perfectly. I think she has her big wedding binder in the dining room if you want to go look. She has lots of pictures of the flowers she wants and the venue they picked out.”
“No, I’m sure that’s okay. I’ll see it when we go to the wedding.”
“Well, you look wonderful, sweetheart.” Mrs. Garcia narrowed her eyes at you mischievously. “So tell me, mija, when are you and this one getting married?” She winked at you and you heard Frankie choke on his drink.
Frankie turned around and scrambled for a napkin from the pile on the island. You felt your eyes widen and your face heat up. You hoped she didn’t think… no, there was no way. She wouldn’t know about your crush on Frankie, the little butterflies you had only ever mentioned to one person? You suddenly regretted telling Pope about your crush over a year ago. Santi wouldn’t have betrayed your confidence like that, would he? To his abuelita?
You shook your head nervously. “No, Miss Sofia, we’re not, uh…”
You weren’t sure how to continue. Frankie was single, but he hadn’t had a relationship since his long-term girlfriend left him after Colombia. He had put everything aside for his daughter and worked his ass off to care for her and co-parent and share custody, no matter how cruel his ex decided to be on any given day. You knew it had been almost two years since she left and more than a year since Fish had last gone out for anything even resembling a date.
You were single for the past two months after a string of monogamous disasters, but you knew Frankie wasn’t interested in you. Not after all of the gory details you had shared with the guys over the years about your failure to maintain a relationship for longer than six months, ever. There’s no way a man like Fish would welcome your chaos into his own life, not when he needed stability for himself and his kid.
Frankie recovered and gulped out, “We’re not dating. Just friends.”
Mrs. Garcia shook her head and clucked, “Oh, that’s too bad. I thought Santi said-”
“Said what?” Your voice sounded panicked. You shook your head and tried again, calmer. “Sorry, Santi said what?”
Your mind was racing. He wouldn’t have… but then again, Pope was a bigger gossip than your 15-year-old cousin. He was probably the last person you should have trusted with your personal feelings.
“Actually, you know what?” Miss Sofia patted your cheek tenderly, “I must be thinking of someone else. I’m getting all of you young ones mixed up in my old age. I’m going to go find Linda and ask her about the plans for the wedding cake.”
She left. You turned to Frankie, blowing air out of puffed cheeks. You reached for your drink. “Well that was weird.”
Fish looked stricken and nodded. “Yeah… weird.”
He took another gulp of his drink and you got your first good look at him. He looked grown up, less boyish than he usually did under his ever-present Standard Oil baseball cap and faded T-shirts. He was wearing an all-black ensemble: slacks, blazer, and a button-down shirt with the top three buttons undone. The black set off his dark eyes and hair, and he had even combed his unruly mop of curls into something resembling a style. He looked handsome, and you suddenly realized that you had been staring for about five seconds longer than was appropriate. You cleared your throat and tried to make conversation.
“So, Santi’s down for the count, huh? I always thought Will would get married first.”
Frankie looked away from you, a distant look in his eyes. “Yeah…”
You suddenly felt embarrassed. Maybe you had offended him? “I mean, not that you, you know- We thought you would get married, too- with the baby on the way, and all.”
Frankie looked at you with a pained expression. Leave it to me to bring up his ex, you thought. You scrambled to undo your faux pas.
“I mean, we didn’t know that she would- we thought she would marry you. But I guess she didn’t want to. Not that you aren’t husband material. We weren’t taking bets, or anything, but I wouldn’t have bet against you.” Sweet Jesus, how am I making this worse? Stop talking, dummy.
Frankie smiled conspiratorially, and the charming little crinkles around his eyes appeared, along with the dimple that made your knees weak, showing through his stubble. “We should take bets. Twenty bucks says Santiago isn’t the first to get hitched.”
You barked out a surprised laugh. “He’s got a date set, Fish! They’re getting married in 8 months. Who the hell is going to plan and execute a wedding fast enough to beat that? I just got dumped, again, and Will is single right now. And Benny? You really think he’s going to marry that college girl he just started seeing two weeks ago? Come on…”
Frankie rubbed his chin and narrowed his eyes at you. “I don’t know who it’ll be, but I’m willing to bet it won’t be Santi. You wanna make it interesting? How about fifty dollars.”
You threw your head back and laughed. “You’re on, Morales. My fifty bucks says not one of us beats Santiago down the aisle.”
You shook hands with Frankie and then picked up your drink and your purse. “Now, I want to see this library and go torture the Miller brothers for a few hours. Whatever happens tonight, please do not let me get dragged into the dining room with the other women to look at the ‘wedding binder,’ whatever that is.”
Fish bumped your hip playfully with his own like he had done a hundred times before, but this time you almost fell sideways. “Watch it! Cici made me buy these goddamn high heels. I swear to crap I’ll stab you with one if you make me fall and break my ankle.”
“Yeah, but you have your med kit in your car, so you can do your own first aid.” Frankie laughed. “You want me to go grab your sneakers?”
You giggled around a mouthful of ice and then spit it back into the cup. “Can you imagine Linda’s face if I come out to the party wearing my fucking sneakers with this dress? She’d probably throw me out of her mansion.”
Fish wrapped his arm around your shoulders and walked you down the hallway. You tried to ignore how warm his hand was over your sleeveless shoulder, how big and safe he felt. Bodily contact with Frankie was always welcome, it had just gotten more and more exciting each time over the past few years. Where before he was a friend who gave you painful high fives or playful punches, now your nerves fluttered and your ‘lady bits’ throbbed each time he touched you. You weren’t sure what to do, if anything. Probably best to let things lie for now. You didn’t want to spill your feelings and scare him off. At least with friendship you could still be around him.
Frankie led you to the back of the house’s ground floor, and opened one side of a set of double doors. He stepped inside and you shuffled in behind him, unsure of how to navigate the deep carpet in your heels.
"Hot damn Morales, is that Lucky?!" Benny’s voice was loud, about two drinks into the night if you were going to bet on it.
“Fuck you, Benny,” You pointed a menacing finger at him. “And if you say one goddamn word about how I look like a fancy prostitute, I’ll deck you.”
Will threw his head back and chortled. He and Benny were lounging on sofas across from each other in an honest-to-goodness library right in someone’s house. The room was huge, lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with hundreds of books and lit with glass-shaded lamps that cast a warm glow on the cognac-colored leather sofas and a dark wood coffee table. A brick fireplace took up one wall, framed by two large windows that looked out over the back lawn where the trees twinkled with strings of party lights. It was gorgeous, and probably the only part of the house you were jealous of. You liked books and comfortable places to read. You wouldn’t want to clean the entire square footage of however many bedrooms and bathrooms this place had, but a library like this? You would take it in a heartbeat.
Fish took your hand and led you over to one of the sofas, where you flopped down with a sigh. You leaned down and undid the buckles of your heels and slipped your feet out, then you crossed your legs as best you could without flashing the guys. “Fuck this dress. I wish Cici had just let me wear my other dress.”
“Your funeral dress?” Will looked at you and raised his eyebrows. “Come on, Lucky. This is a happy occasion. And besides, you look nice.”
You nodded your head at Will. “Thank you for saying so. I just wish Pope was marrying someone less rich. We could be having his engagement party at a bar and I would have jeans on.” You sighed and looked at the Millers. “What’s new with you guys?”
You sipped your drink and let Benny chatter about his fight schedule and his new girlfriend, while you and Will traded verbal jabs and Frankie sat quietly on the sofa opposite you. Occasionally you caught Fish looking at you with that weird faraway expression in his eyes. You frowned at him once and he quickly darted his eyes to look away. Maybe his feelings were still hurt from when you said he wouldn’t get married? You could apologize again later.
Benny stood up and pulled a strip of six or seven condoms out of his pocket, offering them to Will. “Hey, bro, you want one? I saw that little bridesmaid looking at you earlier. And I don’t need them.”
Will frowned at his brother. “Why don’t you need them?”
Benny grinned. “My lady’s and my tests both came back clean today. She’s got an IUD and she’s gonna start letting me go bareback this weekend.”
The three of you groaned at Benny, flooding him with calls of “TMI!” and “Don’t be gross, Ben.”
Will reached out and tore two off the strip. Benny turned and threw the rest to Frankie.
“Fish, share these with Lucky.”
Frankie looked panicked. “With Lucky?”
Benny pointed at him. “Yeah, there are six other bridesmaids out there. I’m sure at least one of them wants to get with an ugly old man like you. And, hey, Lucky,” Benny leaned down and kissed you on the cheek. “You don’t look like a prostitute, you look like a million bucks. I think the bride’s brother is in law school or something. You should go lock that down before he sees you in fatigues.”
You reached up and patted Benny’s cheek. “Thank you, Ben. I love you.”
Will opened the door and turned back. “We’re gonna go check out the pool table in the games room. You guys wanna come?”
You groaned. “Ugh, there’s a games room? How big is this place? It’s like a freaking game of Clue in here.”
“You coming or not?”
You turned to raise your eyebrows at Fish. He scrunched his nose and gave you a non-committal shake of his head as he tossed the strip of condoms on the table. You looked back to Will with a lazy wave.
“Nah, I’m not strapping my heels back on unless it’s for a fire alarm. You guys have fun.”
The Miller brothers left and you turned back to Frankie. You drained your drink and looked for a coaster before you realized there were none. You were hesitant to put your glass down on the glossy wood table, but there was no place else to put it. Fuck it. You plunked it down on the table. You opened your mouth to apologize but Frankie started talking first.
“Hey, listen, I’m sorry about earlier.” Fish was rubbing his thumb across his lower lip, and your brain blanked out for a half-second.
“Sorry? What are you sorry for? I’m the one who brought up your ex and basically said I didn’t think you were marriage material.” You smiled and spread your hands wide in a sheepish gesture. “I was the rude one.”
“No, I meant Mrs. Garcia. She- I mean…” Frankie looked pained again. “I think she might have gotten the wrong idea about us. About you and me. I’m sorry I gave her the wrong idea.” Fish suddenly took interest in his drink and swirled the ice around.
You frowned. “How did you give her the wrong idea?”
“Well, I mean, she asked me why I wasn’t seeing anyone, and you know how she is. She pinched my cheek and I was suddenly 15 again. I couldn’t just lie and say it’s because of my ex and me sharing custody. I’m not seeing anyone because-” Frankie cleared his throat and turned pink. “Well, Santi said...”
You felt your frown deepen to a scowl. “Oh shit.” You started to scrub a hand across your eyes, until you remembered your makeup. Fuck.
You sighed. “Look, it’s nothing, I shouldn’t have said anything to Pope. Just forget whatever Miss Sofia told you. It’s really nothing.”
Frankie knitted his brows at you. “What did you tell Pope?”
You rolled your eyes toward the ceiling and held them there. Maybe if you didn’t look at Frankie it would be less painful.
You rushed the words out. “I told Pope over a year ago that I had a crush on you, and he told his grandma because he’s a huge fucking gossip, and then she repeated it back to you and made you uncomfortable just now.”
You blinked and sighed and looked back at Frankie, meeting his deep brown eyes with your own. “I shouldn’t have said anything to Pope, and he definitely shouldn’t have tattled to his abuelita about it. It’s really nothing, Fish. I just realized a while ago I had a crush on you, and I wasn’t going to say anything because I don’t want to scare you off from being my friend. Can you please just forget whatever Miss Sofia told you?”
Frankie had that odd faraway expression again, and you were starting to wonder if he had a concussion.
“She didn’t say anything about that.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Wait, so then why are you apologizing? What are you talking about?”
“She asked me why I wasn’t seeing anyone and I said I was waiting to ask you out.”
You felt your mouth drop open, then you shook your head and tried to process what Frankie was saying.
“Wait, what?”
Frankie put his drink down on the table. “I- well, I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while, and Santi said that I should ask you out. But I didn’t think you would want to date me.”
“What? When? When did you want to ask me out?”
“A long time ago, but then you started dating that bartender, and you guys had a messy breakup and a few weeks later you started dating the personal trainer guy. Just the timing was never right.”
You looked at him and your voice went soft. “I’m single now, Fish. Why did you think I wouldn’t want to date you?”
He met your eyes and his tone was tight, his eyes full of self-doubt. “Well, I fucking work 50 hours a week trying to pay child support, I have to bend over backwards every time my ex wants to update the custody schedule. I don’t have any kind of a life to offer you. And I- I don’t- I’m definitely not as in shape as the last guy you dated.” Frankie turned the corners of his mouth down and shrugged. “I’m a mess.”
“What the fuck, Fish? You thought I wouldn’t want you?” You leaned forward and put your elbows on your knees.
“I’m the fucking mess, Fish. I’m the one who can’t keep a houseplant alive, or pay bills on time, or keep a man interested in me for longer than a football season.”
“Yeah, but you’re smart and you’re funny and you’re…” Frankie waved one of his big hands toward you. “You’re fucking gorgeous. I know you said not to say anything about the dress, but come on, Lucky. Give a guy a break. How can I not when you show up looking like that?”
You stared at Frankie and felt your face split into a wide grin. The realization of everything was washing over you in waves, each piece of new information settling into your brain and starting to make a weird kind of sense. Frankie wanted you. You wanted him. You were both single at the same time and you wanted each other. You were friends and you both wanted to make it more.
You felt suddenly shy with Frankie’s intense gaze on you, with the knowledge that he wanted you. You clenched your thighs at the sharp ache between your legs, and you bit your lip and widened your eyes at Frankie as he stood up and moved toward you.
You whispered up at him, “Do you want to…?”
Suddenly the door burst open and Benny and Will came back in, laughing like hyenas. You shot up off the couch and grabbed your heels, shoving your purse under one armpit.
“Drink refill?” You raised your eyebrows at Frankie and hoped he would get the message, and that the Millers wouldn’t want to join you.
Frankie bent over and grabbed both glasses off the table, swiping the condoms and tucking them into his pants pocket. “Yeah, I’ll come with you.”
Will and Benny flopped back down into their previous spots on the sofas.
“You guys should go check out the games room,” said Will. “There’s a pool table, but some other people were already playing. However I did kick Benny’s ass on the pinball machine.”
“Did not,” pouted Benny.
“Yeah, we’ll do that,” Frankie’s tone was flat, and if he was feeling anything like you were, the crowded games room was the last place he would want to go. You were hoping there was an empty bedroom upstairs. Hell, even a bathroom would be fine with you. There had to be at least five in this place.
You stepped outside and watched Fish close the library door. You looked up and down the hallway, but had zero guesses as to what each door might lead to. Frankie put both glasses down on a console table against the wall and took your heels from you, slinging the straps over two big fingers. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it as he leaned closer, towering over you.
“You wanna get out of here?”
You did, but for some reason your breath and all ability to speak had fled as you looked into his big brown eyes. You gulped and nodded. Frankie took your hand and walked you down the back hall, away from the kitchen and the party at the front of the house.
“Where are we going?”
“Up the back stairs.”
“There are back stairs, too? What the fuck?” You had seen a massive staircase in the front entryway of the house when you came in. Apparently a house this big needed back stairs as well?
“Yeah, Santi gave us the tour when we showed up early.” Frankie took you to the end of the hall and pulled you around a corner and up a set of narrow, carpeted stairs. “There’s a guest bedroom up here somewhere…” He turned at the top of the stairs and walked you down the hall to one of the doors. He poked his head inside to check, and then he pulled you into the darkened room with him.
You stared at the guest room in the dim light spilling in from the backyard string lights. There was a massive king size bed, an enormous chest of drawers, two armchairs, a walk-in closet, and a bathroom. The entire thing was bigger than your living room and bedroom combined.
“This is a fucking guest bedroom? What the fuck, Fish? How much money does this family have?”
Frankie locked the door and came up behind you, turning you to face him. “Don’t know, don’t care.” And then he put his big hands on either side of your face and pulled you in for a kiss.
You felt breathless and your head swam. You wondered momentarily if you should stop and wipe your lipstick off with a tissue or something, but that thought was washed away by Frankie’s mouth on yours, insistent and eager and hungry. You let your purse drop to the floor and wrapped your arms around his neck. He moved his hands down to circle your waist and pressed his tongue against your lips, and you opened to let him explore you.
You realized that Frankie was a great kisser, not too much pressure or too much tongue. He licked into your eager mouth with little exploratory touches, running the tip of his tongue up behind your front teeth and then darting back out to bite off a kiss with his lips before he came back for more. You explored the sandpaper-soft top of his tongue, and then the smooth underside, feeling shivers pool in your pelvis as your brain finally caught up.
Frankie. Kissing. You were finally kissing Frankie, and it was everything you hoped it would be. He was handsome and smelled amazing and he was your friend, your buddy. The guy who refused to treat you more delicately in the field just because you were a woman. The guy who grabbed your hips and shit-talked during pickup basketball games. The guy who consistently showed up for his friends no matter what. And now…? He was yours. Your Frankie.
He broke the kiss and moved his mouth down to your neck, nuzzling you under one ear, sending chills over your skin and causing your nipples to harden. He pressed his lips to your skin and you heard him inhale deeply through his nose.
“You smell amazing. You always smell good but I love whatever that perfume is.”
You smiled into the dark. “Thank you, F- Fish. It’s some- something Cici talked me into.” You could barely get the words out, your brain ricocheting with the sensation of him murmuring into your neck, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the way he pulled you into his broad frame.
He pulled back and you could see that little frown between his brows again. “Can you please not call me Fish while we’re making out? That’s all you ever call me.”
You laughed and tried to pull him back toward you for another kiss. “Okay, come here, Morales.”
His eyes looked sad, and he didn’t come any closer. “Please call me Frankie. I wanna hear you say it. I don’t think you’ve ever called me by my name the whole time we’ve known each other.”
You felt a little twinge in your chest, at the possibility that your joking just now had hurt him. Sometimes Frankie could be so sweet and so vulnerable, and you realized how momentous this was, how tenderly you needed to treat this version of himself that he had laid bare for you. You unwrapped your arms from his neck and moved your hands to lay flat against his chest on either side of his open collar.
You looked up at him in the near-dark and whispered, “Please, Frankie. I want you.”
That flipped a switch, and suddenly Frankie’s mouth was on yours again with a fury, his hands moving to grip you even tighter, one cupping the back of your head while the other moved down to your ass to press you tighter against him.
You could feel his erection start to grow as he kissed you. Fuck. If you had known that just saying his name would turn him on for you like this, you would have done it ages ago. You giggled at the thought and Frankie eased up a bit on his tender assault of your senses.
“I want you so much, baby.” His voice was low, almost a growl against your mouth. “I’ve wanted you for years. Please tell me this is real.”
You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and pulled his head down to you, whispering against his ear. “Frankie, this is real. I love you and I want you and I don’t want to be with anyone else. Please, please take me to bed.” You licked your tongue out to capture his earlobe and pull it into your mouth, sucking and biting it gently between your front teeth.
Frankie moaned and flexed his knees, reaching down to wrap his big hands under your butt. He picked you up just a few inches off the floor and walked to the bed, tossing you on it. The sudden drop made you whoop, a little “Ooop!” and a laugh coming out much louder than you intended.
“You gotta be quiet, baby, or they’ll hear you downstairs,” Frankie whispered as he took off his jacket and flung it over an armchair. He kicked off his shoes and threatened, “You don’t want to have to stop now, do you?”
“No Frankie.” You lay back on the bed and watched Frankie as he kneeled on the bed and then crawled up to where you lay, his dark eyes hungry as he came closer. Your stomach flipped over at the sight of this gorgeous man coming for you. You felt like you were on a roller coaster, ready for the little build, the steady climb before the exhilarating drop. You wanted every moment of whatever Frankie had to offer you.
He lay on his side next to you, his head propped up on one big hand. You sat up.
“What’s wrong, baby girl?”
“Nothing, just wanted you to unzip my dress.” You turned your back to him and felt him fumble for the hidden zipper in the dark. He finally found it and pulled the zipper down all the way. You stood up and faced the bed. You wanted to see Frankie’s face when you undressed. He had seen pieces of your bare skin before, doing drills in a sports bra and shorts, or in a swimsuit at pool parties, but this was different. This was special.
You felt powerful and sexy and womanly as you met his eyes and started to peel the dress off of your shoulders. Maybe there was something to this shit after all, the matching bra and undies, the pretty dresses and the perfume. You doubted that undressing to reveal your usual cotton boyshorts and tattered sports bra would have had the same effect. You heard Frankie’s breath hitch as the dress dropped to reveal your black lace bra. You saw his fingers fisting into the bedspread when it fell further to show your underwear. And you heard him groan low in his chest when you stepped out of the dress pooled at your feet and did a little spin, turning to show him your thong.
You could have jumped in the air with how giddy you were, but instead you just grinned and crawled back up onto the bed to kneel over Frankie and kiss him. You felt his big hand come up to your ass and caress you, the other coming to the back of your neck to pull you down on top of him. You felt your panties get hot and damp, and you wanted to stop and savor every moment that was being shared between you. The words kept bouncing around in your head and you still couldn’t believe it. My Frankie. Mine.
He wrapped both arms around your waist and rolled you gently onto your back as he continued to kiss you deeply. His big hands were everywhere, caressing your breasts before trailing down to squeeze your hips, then traveling to your waist and then coming back up to cup your chin as he kissed you. His broad fingers trailed goosebumps everywhere they landed, the warmth of his gun-callused fingers so familiar and yet entirely new in this context. You wanted him everywhere all at once, in you and on you and under you. You almost couldn’t breathe for wanting him so much.
You put your hands on his chest and he pulled away, mistaking it for a request to stop.
“What’s the matter?”
“I just want to see you, Frankie. Can I open your shirt?”
He rolled away from you and you reached one hand up at the same time that he did, both of you working to open the buttons. Frankie reached down and pulled his shirt out from where it was tucked into his pants, then he pulled the whole thing off, revealing a tight black sleeveless undershirt. You gasped at the sight of his skin, pale in the low light, broad shoulders offset by the black fabric.
You reached down to grab the hem of his undershirt. “Off.” Your tone was soft, murmured in a low voice, but the command was unmistakable.
Frankie shifted to maneuver the undershirt off, and then there he was, all broad shoulders and soft belly and golden skin. He looked delicious. You trailed your hand up his bicep and across his shoulder, grazing his skin with your fingertips as you moved down his sternum to his tummy. He sucked in the tiniest hitch of breath as your fingers hit him there, and he wrapped his thick fingers around your wrist. “Babe…”
You looked at him with a frown, “No, I like it.”
He looked at you like you were crazy, but he took his hand away and let you continue. You flattened your hand and stroked him down the center of his abdomen, from his ribs to the waistband of his pants, reveling in the feel of his warmth and his fuzz and his sheer solid bulk. You whispered to him as you reversed course and stroked back up to his chest.
“You might think you’re not in as good a shape as other guys, but I love you, Francisco Morales. Don’t you dare change a thing.” You drifted your fingers up, swerving around his nipple and pectoral until you reached his neck. You cupped his jaw and pulled him down for a kiss. “I mean it. I love you.”
“I love you too.” He kissed you deeply and then buried his face in your neck, whispering your name, your real name, over and over again like a prayer. You had heard him say it exactly once the day you met, and then like everyone else in your life you insisted that he call you “Lucky” after that. And that had been how many years ago? Ten? 12?
You loved hearing Frankie shout your nickname in a military-loud voice during drills or a crisis, or laugh it out breathlessly as you joked over card games. You had always, always hated your given name. But now? Now the syllables of your name sounded magical, soft but heated as they were murmured against your skin by your lover.
Frankie moved his face down to nuzzle his prominent nose into your sternum, inhaling deeply again at the scent of the perfume you had applied there.
Under Cici’s strict and specific orders, you had dotted the rollerball of the new scent between your breasts, behind each earlobe, and on the inner aspect of each wrist. Apparently it was working. Frankie was moaning like a starving man presented with a massive dessert, and you could feel his erection somehow getting even harder where he lay pressed against your thigh.
“Fuck, baby. You smell fucking amazing. I can’t get enough of you.”
You felt your pussy clench at that, and you moaned, your mouth falling open as you tugged at his hair.
“Frankie, please…”
He slithered down another few inches and kissed your navel, working his lips down to your pubic mound. He pressed a kiss to the black lace of your panties and then opened his mouth wide, encompassing as much of your pussy as he could. You felt Frankie exhale a slow, hot breath of air against you. The sensation rippled through every nerve at once, and you grasped his hair even harder in your fists and almost shouted, “Oh fuck!”
“Shhh! Baby doll, you gotta be quiet.” Frankie placed a soft kiss to the top of your thigh, and then buried his nose into the V of your legs. You heard him inhale just as deeply as he had at your new perfume, and something about that act was so primal and so depraved that it made a new rush of slick soak your panties.
You moaned again, “Frankie, please, please…”
“Please what, baby? You want me to eat you out?”
“Yes, Frankie.” Your voice was high and breathy. “Please fucking eat me out right now, baby. Right now.”
Frankie reached for the waistband of your panties and pulled them down and off. You opened your legs wide for him and caught a flash of him grinning up at you as he settled his broad shoulders between your thighs.
He dove in eagerly. Frankie’s mouth was heavenly, hot and wet and nearly frantic as he kissed you there. He used his lips and tongue on your aching cunt just as tenderly and firmly as he had on your mouth. The novelty of it struck you at once and you felt a little self-conscious, suddenly wondering if you should have gotten some kind of lady waxing done there, too. Frankie, between my legs? Eating me out?
You didn’t have time to consider that for too long, as Frankie slipped two of his thick fingers inside of you, pulling another moan and a near-shout from your lungs. He paused to hiss again, “Shhh!” before he delved back in with a fury.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, pushing and pulling and pushing again. He was as steady in his attentions as he was behind the stick in the cockpit. He didn’t waver from his mission or let your tugging on his hair interfere. He just kept at it, licking you and suckling your clit into his mouth as he pistoned his fingers slowly in and out. It was divine, and he kept making little hums of satisfaction that let you know he was clearly enjoying himself. He worked his fingers into you and then added a third as he used his thumb and pinky finger to hold your labia open the way you had seen him do with paperback books. You felt the tickle building, all of your pleasure converging into one bundle of nerves that branched out from your clit.
Frankie crooked his middle finger up firmly against your g-spot, the spongy part of you that you could never reach yourself, no matter how you flexed your fingers. He flicked his tongue side to side across your clit, curled his fingers again and boom - you exploded into fireworks and heaving breaths, your thighs quivering while you squeezed them closed around his head and curled up into yourself. Your shoulders lifted up off the bed and your whole body spasmed three or four times as you felt your vagina clench hard around Frankie’s broad fingers. He used his free hand to tap your thigh and you lay back and tried to remember how to breathe.
Frankie licked you clean, lapping your cunt with long swipes of his flat tongue to ensure that your slick and his saliva didn’t drip onto the bedspread below you. You felt the last few clenches of your climax ebb away, and Frankie pulled his fingers out of you so quickly that it almost hurt. You ached at the sudden emptiness as he sat up and stuck his fingers into his mouth. You felt another vacant, aching throb in your core as you watched him close his eyes and lick you from his broad digits like he was savoring drips of melted ice cream. You wanted him entirely, yearned for him even though he was right there and he wasn’t going anywhere.
The man was talented, and you cursed yourself for not pursuing him sooner. Who knew that Frankie of all people would turn out to be the best oral you’d ever had? What other secrets was he hiding? You suddenly flashed back to a day in the field, the injury to Frankie’s thigh that required you to cut his pants leg all the way up, peeling them to the side and revealing a bulge of a package through his boxers. You had taken no notice of it back then, in the middle of the adrenaline-fueled need to stop the bleeding and get him to safety, but now… now the memory of it was like an old puzzle piece that you had been carrying around, looking for a spot to place it. Now you were about to find out, see it for yourself and you couldn’t wait.
You sat up and kneeled to press your chest against his, kissing him and running your fingers through his hair again, tugging and scratching at the longer strands at the back of his head. He wrapped his broad hands around your waist and moaned. He tasted like the both of you, the deep notes of himself and the ones of your own salty musk, standing out new against the background of Frankie. The mix was like home and vacation at the same time, familiar and novel, dizzying and welcoming and exciting all at once. You moaned and a few tears slipped out of your eyes at how badly you ached to feel him inside of you.
You reached down and curled your fingers around the thick of him, straining against his suit pants.
“Frankie, I want… I want you inside of me. Please.” You gripped him harder and his voice cracked on a groan like a teenage boy. He suddenly gripped you in a bear hug and wrestled you down onto the bed underneath him, devouring you with open-mouthed kisses, all teeth and tongue and furious licking. He moved again to lick and suck at your throat, and his erection pressed hard against your bare cunt. You groaned at the delicious pressure of it.
“Frankie… pants… off… please.”
He moaned a little sound of annoyance at having to pull away. He kneeled and pulled the strip of condoms out of his pants pocket, and then wrestled himself free of his belt and zipper, pushing his pants and underwear down and off in record time. His cock sprung free and it was as big and impressive as you had hoped. He looked glorious. You reached out to grab it in your fist. You gave it a few tentative pumps and then looked up into his beautiful face to see what kind of effect you were having on him.
Frankie looked down at you and swiped a broad hand down over his eyes and face, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Jesus, baby girl. You’re so perfect.” He wrapped his big hand around yours and pumped himself harder as his eyes fluttered closed. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. I’ve dreamed about you. Fucking gorgeous baby doll…”
“Frankie, I love you. I’ve dreamed about you, too. I touched myself and thought about you.”
He opened his eyes and wrapped his hand tighter around yours, cupping your face with his free hand. “Is that so, baby? You think about me and touch your pretty cunt? I think about you all the time while I’m fucking jerking off. You’re too fucking gorgeous baby. I love you so much.”
He let go and pulled your hand off of him, and then he opened a condom and rolled it on. He wrapped his fingers around your wrists and pulled them above your head as he shifted down over you to get into position.
“Is this okay?” He huffed the words at you as looked at you for approval.
You blinked and nodded. “Yes, yes, Frankie. Yes.”
He wrapped both of your wrists in one big hand and dove back down to kiss you fervently. He reached down with his free hand to guide his thick cock between your legs. You opened wide for him, waiting for the thick of him to enter you, to stretch you open.
Frankie broke the kiss to look deep into your eyes as he slotted the curve of his head against your entrance. You moaned and took a deep breath and then he breached you, thrusting into you with a rush and filling you up in one go. You keened out a cry, throwing your head back and flexing your fingers where they lay pressed under his strong grip.
“Shhh, baby doll.” Frankie nipped at your neck and nuzzled your earlobes while his free hand pinched and rolled your hard nipples between his fingers. “I thought I told you to stay quiet.”
You clenched around him at the order, something about soft Frankie flipping over into giving you commands was making you throb, making you ache for more.
“I can’t,” you whined out. “I can’t stay quiet, Frankie. Not with you inside me.” You hitched your legs up beside his hips and rocked your pelvis up and down, feeling him slide in and out of you.
“I just wanna bounce up and down on your thick cock all day and let you make me scream, baby boy.”
Frankie moaned and leaned down to lick and bite your mouth. You continued to rock your hips until he let go of your wrists and gripped your pelvis with both of his hands. He pressed you down into the mattress and started fucking you hard. Then he moved his hands to either side of your head and braced himself above you on both arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist and made him talk to you.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about, Frankie. Tell me how much you love me.” You turned your head to the side to lick and suck at the soft skin on the inner part of his forearm, up near his elbow.
Frankie gritted his words out between thrusts, biting them off and making the soft praises sound almost angry and hard.
“Fucking- goddamn- gorgeous- girl.” He clenched his jaw and huffed in a few ragged breaths. You sucked at his skin harder, lathering your tongue in between love bites. You were going to leave a mark, something he could look at for the next few days while he thought about this moment.
“Fucking- think about you- all goddamn day. Wanted to- fuck you- for ages. You’re fucking- fuck! Fucking so goddamn beautiful. Love you so much.”
You reached up and started petting his face, cooing soft words into him.
“Frankie, baby, I love you. That’s it, right there. Oh! I love you so much, baby. Come for me, Frankie.”
“Oh fuck. I’m coming- coming for you.” Frankie bit off a moan and then thrust deep into you as his hips shuddered. He fell onto you and you felt him thrust twice more before he stilled.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and ran your fingers through his hair. “Sweet boy. I love you so much. That was perfect. I love you, Frankie.”
He turned his face to you and kissed you deeply, murmuring quietly into your mouth.
“You’re fucking perfect, baby girl. Fucking perfect. God, I love you.”
Frankie grabbed the base of the condom and rolled off of you, then he went to the bathroom and turned the light on. The brightness of it startled you.
You wandered in behind him and peed while he tied off the condom and wrapped it up in some toilet paper. He tossed it in the wastebasket and then washed his hands. You stood at the sink and washed up while he wrapped his arms around you from behind and pressed himself against you.
“Oh shit, we forgot to take off your bra.” Frankie reached up and cupped one breast through the lace. “I never got to see your beautiful tits.” He met your eyes in the mirror and you both laughed.
You dried your hands and then wrapped your arms over his as he circled them around your waist again. “If you didn’t see them, how do you know they’re beautiful?”
He kept his gaze on yours in the mirror and pressed a slow, hot kiss to the top of your shoulder. Then he turned his head to brush his lips against your ear.
He whispered, “Because the rest of you is fucking gorgeous. Educated guess.”
You shivered at the goosebumps that ran from your neck to your toes. He met your eyes in the mirror again and you beamed, practically sparkling at him.
A thud-thud-thud at the bedroom door jolted you both out of your haze.
Will’s deep voice came through muffled as Frankie killed the bathroom light and you both scrambled for your clothes.
“Fish! Lucky! You guys in there?”
You made big eyes and shook your head frantically at Frankie as you whipped your dress up over your head. He made a “just wait’ motion to you, then he bent over and started pulling his pants on.
You heard Will try the doorknob and then knock again before he gave up and walked away.
A hysterical giggle burst out from your lips as you watched Frankie crouch and scramble to find his shoes. You turned your back to him, “Zip?”
He stood and zipped you up, and you kneeled on the floor and looked for your thong, tossing Frankie one of his shoes from under the bed.
“Where are my undies?”
“Got ‘em.” Frankie stood up and held up your thong. They dangled from one broad thumb. “They’re kinda wet though. You probably don’t want them back.”
You crossed the room to him, and he held them up above your head, just out of your reach. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
“You keep them, then. Naughty boy.”
Frankie grinned at you and tucked your panties into the front pocket of his shirt. “You’re never getting these back, baby.”
You laughed and sat on the bed to put your heels on. “As long as I get you back, that’s all I ask.”
Frankie beamed at you, and his smile practically lit the room.
---
Eight weeks later you and Frankie were lying on the beach under an umbrella, arguing for the millionth time over who owed who fifty dollars.
Frankie lay face up on his towel, while you sprawled face down next to him, propped up on your elbows with a fat paperback book held open with your right hand. His left hand gripped yours, fingers intertwined as you rubbed your thumb over and over the shiny new wedding band that gleamed against his golden tanned skin.
“Baby doll,” Frankie sounded really annoyed now. “I bet you that it wasn’t gonna be Santi walking down the aisle first. I won.”
You didn’t take your eyes off your book. “No, baby. I said- and I remember my exact words- that ‘not one’ of us would beat him getting married. And not one of us did. Two of us did. So technically I didn’t lose.”
“Jesus, baby, this again? You’re not going to win on semantics.” Frankie rolled onto his stomach and slung his arm over your lower back. He pulled you into a kiss. “You owe your husband fifty bucks.”
You kissed him deep, letting your tongue soothe him until he moaned softly into your mouth.
“I owe you no money, Mr. Morales.”
Frankie nuzzled your ear with his strong nose until you giggled. He growled low into your ear, “Lucky Morales, you are trouble. I never should have made that bet with you.”
“I think you made that bet because you wanted to marry me.”
“Okay that part might be true.” Frankie rolled over and lay back down on his towel.
He cocked his head at you and grinned. “You wanna bet we can get pregnant first?”
You tossed your book away with a, “Yes!” and then rolled over on top of him, kneeling to straddle him while you giggled.
You let your husband kiss you and kiss you while you listened to the waves roll in.
Tal'galar - Rogue, Chapter 31|| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive!Reader
Gif by: @klassyfeels
Summary: You received an order. And you’ll carry it out, no matter the cost or consequence.
A/N: Oh dear.🤭This one is a little shorter, as I split the original chapter 31 into 2 to allow for the dramatic ending 👀
Warnings: More for mature readers: Heavy on the injury/gore - blood, knives, killing someone, loss of control, reader going a bit crazy, swearing, angst
Summary: Din catches a glimpse of you and he’s got to do something about it.
Warnings: SMUT, oral (f receiving), hints of more to come ☺️
A/N: unbeta’d, another lil Din drabble bc these drawings make me ✨yearn✨
++
You thread your fingers into Din’s soft mop of hair as he kisses your inner thighs. This man has elevated eating pussy to an art form, and he’s made no secret of his love for yours in particular.
He doesn’t just lick you; he treats himself.
Soft, delicately striped flesh wraps your inner thighs, faint stretch marks hidden by trousers most of the time. One accidental naked run-in with him as you were dashing from the fresher to your bunk for a forgotten towel sears images of you into Din’s mind, and it’s only hours before he slips into your bunk, eyes roving over you in your soft pajamas.
Your eyes flick open, spotting movement in the faint glow from the cabin outside.
“Din?” You murmur sleepily, squinting to see him more clearly. “Is everything okay?”
Din nods, his helmet already off and cradled in one arm. He’s looking at you, fingers twitching with need.
“Do you… do you want something?” You ask, leaning up on your elbows.
“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t disturb your sleep,” he says quickly, and moves to leave. You reach for him, catching his arm.
“It’s okay,” you say, in a gentle tone usually reserved for easily spooked animals or children. “You can talk to me.”
He sits on the edge of your bunk, cape still tied around his shoulders.
“You’ll think I’m a creep,” he says. “I’m afraid… afraid you’ll want to leave.”
The corner of your mouth twitches up. “For what? You accidentally seeing me dash naked through the ship? It was bound to happen eventually, being a live-in mechanic does mean I… you know… live here,” you say, going for what you hope is a playful tone.
Din gives a breathy chuckle.
“Seeing you was one thing. But now,” he says, swallowing hard, “now I just can’t stop thinking about you. You’re so beautiful, I wasn’t—wasn’t prepared.”
You feel blood rush to your cheeks in the near darkness, your heart racing recklessly.
“Are you… prepared now?” You ask, a hint of teasing in your voice. Din looks at you, eyes wide, and a small smile on his lips. He nods.
Holding his gaze, you carefully wiggle out of your pants, baring yourself from the waist down. Din watches, transfixed, as you part your knees for him, giving him a perfect view of your core, already warm and wet.
“Beautiful,” Din whispers, getting on his knees and leaning down to kiss your inner thigh. The flesh is soft and delicate, and his lips are gentle, tongue slipping out to trace the small lines. He nibbles tenderly on your skin, sucking it into his mouth and carefully marking you, making you whimper at the sensation.
“Fuck, Din… your mouth,” you whine, gasping as he presses his lips to your opening at last, the folds slick from his teasing. He’s kissing, licking, tongue flicking against your clit, and nuzzling the bundle of nerves between breaths. You sink one hand into his hair and tug, and he must love it because he moans right into you, sending low, deep vibrations through your body. He’s rutting against the edge of the bunk, and you can feel the tension, see the sweat shining on his forehead as he devours you, lightly stubbled cheeks scraping against your soft inner thighs.
“Oh, baby girl,” he moans against you, his voice wrecked. “Come for me, baby girl. Wanna taste you.”
You’re gasping desperately as his gloved hands settle at your hips, angling your pussy just right for him to lick deep between your lips.
“Just like that, please, don’t stop,” you whimper.
“Please, use my name,” he whispers between kisses.
“Din,” you sigh, hips settling into a rhythm.
“Fuck, baby,” he says, mouth full of you. “Taste so fucking good,” he adds, a desperate edge to his words.
“Din, oh, fuck,” you sob, clinging to his hair and squeezing one gloved hand as you crash over your peak, waves of pleasure coursing through you, every muscle tensing and relaxing in perfect ripples of motion.
“So good, Din,” you mumble, looking down your body at him. He’s tucked his nose against the crease of your inner thigh, and he’s nuzzling you, letting his cheekbone press against your bare, swollen, throbbing clit. His eyes open to look up into yours and you realize this is intentional; not just a needy coincidence. Nibbling on your skin, he hums with delight as you tug on his hair.
Pressing one final kiss to your thigh, he sits back, face shiny.
You hold his gaze, eyes unfocused and hazy.
“Perfect,” he sighs, dabbing the corner of his mouth.
“Fuck me,” you whisper, panting.
He crawls over you, a sly smile on his face.
“Was that a response, or an order?” he asks, nuzzling your neck.
summer is just like i have all the time in the world i never have enough time i am so happy i am so depressed i have nothing to do i have too many things to do i want to go outside i never want to leave my room i hate people i am so lonely i slept for fifteen hours i haven't slept in three days i am so overwhelmed i am so bored life is good i am going to die
Writer: So They Spooned All Night And The Brooding One Allowed Themselves To Feel Vulnerable For The First Time In Years And The Chirpy One Got Some Quality Snuggles
There was only one bed and so they lay there together, only inches apart physically but it may as well have been miles for neither could muster the courage to tell the other the true depth of their feelings and so they lay there sleepless in their mutual pining
There was only one bed. A carried B to it and gently eased them down. They were both badly injured but B’s conditions were much worse and A wouldn’t rest until they knew B was going to be alright. So A sat down next to B and brushed their hair back, holding their hand as B shivered through the night, their only comfort A’s presence by their side.
There was only one bed. This is normal. They’ve been married for a decade and have a small child. The child has climbed in bed to snuggle with them because thunder is scary. They have their baby curled between them and they share soft, warm smiles over his sleepy head as he snores little kid snores.
Me, who just wants domestic curtains found family fic:
There was only one bed, the two characters argued and bickered begging for them not to have to share it, but they somehow are here still. They agree that there both going to pick a side and stay on it. This was going fine until in the middle of the night A woke up screaming and crying, B gets them to calm down and they end up falling asleep next to each other feeling safe
There was only one bed. A noticed B’s exhaustion and lifted them easily. “You don’t have to carry me like a child,” B noted, despite being clearly pleased by how matters were progressing. “I think we both know that’s not true,” A replied with a grin. The bed was warm, inviting, and yet something was missing. “Is this a private party, or can just anyone join,” C called from the doorway, clad only in their underwear and a smile. “Only if it’s you!” A and B replied in unison as they drew the covers back.
Adult cruise in Spain next weekend for just £100! Book now before it’s too late! You read a headline in this morning’s newspaper.
The headline catches your attention, you and Max need a break from the kids. Not saying you two don’t love your kids because you do, but come on, sometimes you need a break— only one of the kids is biologically yours and that’s yours and Max’s 2 year old son Theo. Alister is your step-son, but you treat him as if he is your own.
You decide to surprise Maxwell with it and go ahead and book it. You’re sure he’ll love it.
***
When Max gets home from work, you decide to tell him.
He’s actually really happy about it, he agrees with you, you both need a break from the kids.
Now you need to plan your trip, as you and Max and the kids have recently moved to North England.
It shouldn’t take you and Max long to get there because it’s only a 2 hour and 19 minute travel by train and then a 30 minute taxi ride to the ship.
Now you gotta make a plan for who’s looking after the kids. I’m sure a friend of yours will volunteer to babysit for 7 days.
***
Later on that day, your best friend Jemma agrees to look after the boys while you and Max are in Spain. You seriously don’t know how to thank you, it means a lot that she’d do this for you.
You offer to buy her some lunch when you get back to England, to say thanks. She agrees, but tells you not to spend too much money on her.
***
Getting ready - 7:30 AM
Right now you’re waiting for Jemma to arrive to pick up the boys. You want to get that out of the way before you get dressed.
It shouldn’t take her long to get to your house, she only lives around 30 minutes ago and she set off 10 minutes ago, so she should be here in about 20 minutes.
The boys are in their coats ready to go— but they are a bit emotional. They don’t want you and Max to go, they’re used to be around you’s all the time.
After ten minutes, you hear a knock on the front door.
“That must be Jemma.” You tell Max. “I’ll go and answer it.”
You get up off the couch and walk up to the front door, unlocking the door and opening it to Jemma.
“Hiya, Y/n!” Jemma greets you, excitedly. Jemma has always been a very excitable person— you have no problem with it, it makes her more fun to be around. You like to be around fun people because you like to have a laugh.
“Hey Jemma!” You reply to her. “Come on in.”
The boys are really happy to see her— out of all your friends Jemma is their favourite— they always call her Aunt Jemma.
“Are you excited to spend a week with me boys?” Jemma asks your sons.
“Yes!” Alister replies to Jemma, excitedly.
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” Theo screams as he jumps up and down.
“Theo is really excited, aren’t you buddy?” Jemma says to the two boys.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” He screams, jumping up and down again.
You laugh quietly to yourself, it’s like the only word Theo knows is yes— but of course he knows more than that. He only talks when he wants to though.
Now it’s time to say goodbye. You and Max have to catch your flight soon— very soon.
You and Max give your sons cuddles and say your goodbyes and then they’re off to Jemma’s house.
***
Getting ready - 8:00 AM
You and Max run up stairs and jump in the shower together. A shower is important— you can’t get on a plane smelling, can you?
Max holds you close to him, as you both stand under the shower head, letting the warm water spray you— while you both hold each other with nothing to ruin this beautiful silence— all there is, is your love for each other.
After you both done everything you need to do in the shower— like wash your abs and wash your body, you both jump out of the shower. You both wrap towels around your wastes and make your way to your shared bedroom, where you both get dressed.
You decide to wear a gorgeous blue summer dress, as you’ll be in Spain later on today. Yeah, you know that you’re going to look like an absolute dick head wearing a dress walking down northern England’s streets in this weather— but you don’t care.
After you and Max have gotten dressed, you both quickly go and brush your teeth. You usually do that first, but you had so much to do this morning.
***
Travel - 9:30 AM
Finally, you and Max are ready to go.
You put your jacket and shoes on and you and Max make your way out of the house, heading towards the taxi station— walking hand in hand, all the way there.
The streets are quiet— mainly, because it’s a Sunday. No one wakes up early on Sundays. It’s a good thing that it's quiet, it makes the walk more romantic— just the two of you holding hands, walking down the street in beautiful silence— even though the place you’re walking through doesn’t look beautiful. But hey! It doesn’t need to be beautiful because you know what is beautiful? Your love for each other.
Finally, after a 20 minute walk, you and Max have finally arrived at the Taxi station. You’re in a rush, your flight leaves in exactly an hour— you need to jump in the first taxi you see, or you’ll miss your flight.
You find a Taxi and you get in it.
“Hey, please can you take us to Manchester Airport?” You ask the Taxi driver.
“Stockport, isn’t it?” The taxi driver asks you.
“Yeah, that’s right.” Max tells him.
Then the taxi driver is off to the airport.
You explain to him that your plane leaves at 10:50 AM, so he tells you that he’ll get you’s there as soon as he can.
***
Travel - 10:50 AM
You made it— you’re on the plane— you’re in the air.
“Babe, I have a question.” Max says to you.
“What is it?” You ask him.
“If the cruise isn’t until tomorrow, why did we go today?” Max asks you.
“Because there’s this really nice hotel there and I wanna spend a night there, see what it’s like.” You reply to him.
Max laughs quietly to himself.
“You’re fucking adorable, y’know that.” Max tells you.
“I know.” You reply to him, giggling.
You look out of the window and you see a view of the entire UK. You think it looks really pretty from up here. You never knew the country looked that beautiful.
When the UK isn’t in view anymore, you can’t help but feel sad— you’re little boys, you’re going to miss them so much.
Max smiles at you and tells you everything is going to be okay, that you’ll be home with them in 7 days. He also told you not to think about them because Jemma is taking care of them and she’s good with kids, so they’re safe.
You give Max a smile and take his advice, you don’t think about the boys again. You just think about you and Max and all the fun you’re going to have through the 7 days.
***
Travel - 11:15 AM
Max looks at you with a smirk, you know what he’s thinking. He’s horny. He wants to fuck, like right now. But you’re on a plane— you might get caught.
“Max, are you actually thinking of fucking me on the plane, or have I mistaken?” You ask Max. Not gonna lie, but you’re actually considering it.
“Yeah, I’m thinking about it.” He replies to you, flirtatiously.
“I want to.” You tell him. “But what if we get caught?”
“We won’t.” He replies to you. “We’ll be very quiet.”
You know you shouldn’t because you’re on a plane, but you want to. You want to feel his huge cock fuck your pussy, while he holds his hand over your mouth to stop you from making any noise— just the thought of it makes you wet.
“Deal.” You tell him, smirking at him.
“Alright, I’ll go first and then you wait a minute then you go, okay?” Max explains to you.
Wow, that’s a lot, what he just said to you. You think you understand. You think he told you that he’s going to the bathroom first, then you wait a minute before you come to the bathroom. You’re sure that’s what he meant. Yep you’re certain.
“Okay.” You tell him.
“Alright, see you in a minute.” Max says to you, as he gets up out of his seat and makes his way to the bathroom.
You sit there for a minute. You’re about to get up and make your way to the bathroom, like you both agreed. But you can’t, there’s a flight attendant in front of the bathroom door. You can’t tell Max because he has turned his phone off. Oh no, this is just fucking awful.
Luckily, you want for a few more seconds and she leaves the door of the bathroom.
You get up out of your seat and make your way across the plane to the bathroom. You open the door and close it behind you immediately, but very very quietly. In front of you is a very angry Max. He’s upset that you took so long to get to the bathroom.
“What took you so long?” Max asks you, angrily.
“A flight attendant was outside the bathroom, I’m sorry.” You tell him, apologising.
“It’s alright, baby girl, I was just worried that you got lost.” He explains to you.
“Lost!” You laugh. “I’m a grown woman, I think I can make my way around a plane.”
Max giggles, he loves your sense of humour.
Max grabs both of your hands, gently, pulling you closer to him and kisses you passionately, pushing you up against the bathroom sink.
You’re ready for it— all of it— you’re ready to take it— you’re ready to take it— you’re ready to fucking take it.
You’re literally so desperate for it, knowing you can get caught at any moment, makes you even hornier.
“Are you ready for my cock, baby?” Max whispers into your ear.
“Yes daddy.” You reply to him, desperately.
Max spins you around, bending you over the sink— he pulls you dress up and pulls your panties down— he pulls his trousers and boxers down, lining his huge cock up with your entrance and slowly pushes it in. He shoots his hand to your mouth to stop you from moaning, just in time.
He starts thrusting in and out of you in a rough pace and you fucking love it— you’d let him fuck you all day long, if he wanted to.
“When I cum, can I cum inside you?” Max whispers into your ear. “If you want me too, just not for me, okay?”
You nod for him, eagerly— like your life depends on being filled with his cum.
You can tell Max is close to cumming because you can hear how desperate he’s trying not to grunt— he does grunt though, but very quietly so no one can hear. The only way someone would be able to hear, is if they had their ear pressed up against the bathroom door and I doubt anyone would do that, right?
Max gives you two more hard thrusts and empties his load in you. He pulls out, but you still haven’t came yet. It’s not because of him, you just last long.
Max pulls out.
“Do you want to come?” Max asks you.
“Yeah.” You reply to him, desperately. “Please, finger me until I do.”
After telling him you want him to finger you, Max immediately whips two fingers to your entrance, fingering you at a very fast pace.
Your orgasm has finally arrived, and you’re good through— you don’t make a single noise, as all your cum squirts out of your pussy and onto the bathroom floor.
Max helps you clean your legs with paper towels. Then you stand up— you pull your panties up and sort your dress out. Then you both walk out and pretend nothing happened, but know everyone knows because you both left the bathroom at the same time.
***
Travel - 13:15 PM
You and Max are finally in Spain. But now it’s about an hour taxi ride to Spain— you’ve only been in the taxi 2 minutes and you’re already stuck in traffic.
You hate traffic, it frustrates you. A lot. You don’t know why traffic makes you so impatient because you’re a really patient person with everything else— but when it comes to traffic— fucking hell, you get so angry.
Max is trying so hard to cheer you up by cracking jokes, trying to make you laugh.
You gotta admit, it fucking works. This man is a bloody genius. How can change you from angry to really happy— you’ll never know.
But that’s one of the reasons you love him, he can make you happy, brighten your day, make you see how beautiful you really are. Not many people can do that.
***
Hotel - 14:35 PM
So you made it— you’re finally at the hotel— you’ve been there a good 20 minutes or so now.
The hotel room— well it’s just perfect, everything you’ll need for a romantic night here with Max.
You swear this hotel is made for romantic nights with your partner because you think a box of condoms in the draw, next to your bed.
“We’ll need those for tonight.” Max tells you, flirtatiously.
“Yeah, can’t wait.” You reply to him, giving him a smirk.
You and Max then get into your pyjamas (yeah, it’s early, but you're on vacation, so it doesn’t matter) and you watch some films together, under the duvet.
***
Hotel - 9:15 PM
“So you wanna fuck now?” Max asks you, caressing your left cheek. His hands feel so beautiful on your face. “We said we would use one of them condoms tonight.”
“Yeah.” You reply to him, giving him a smirk. “That sounds like a perfect idea.”
Max places pulls you pyjamas shorts down along with you panties and then looks back up into your eyes, smirking. You can see how desperate he is for you in his eyes.
“Can I taste you?” Max asks you. “I wanna lick your clit, until you cum in my mouth.”
“Yeah, please, daddy, please.” You beg him. “I want your perfect tongue against my clit, please, I beg you.”
Max moves into position— his head in between your legs. He kisses up your inner thighs, leaving love bites. You moan quietly with each kiss and each nip against the flesh of your inner thighs. He does this all the way up to the very top of your inner thighs. The higher he goes, the more loud your moans get. He’s not even licking your clit yet and you can’t stop moaning.
Then he moves his mouth to your clit, giving it a single lick. You moan— quite loudly and grip onto his hair— you don’t grip it too hard though, you don’t want to hurt him.
He carries on licking your pussy. He is going a bit slow, you don’t know if he’s doing this to tease you, or because he doesn’t want to go too fast on you.
“Please— go faster, I beg to, please.” You beg Max, moaning.
Max listens to you, he really wants to please you. He speeds up his clicks— shit you feel light you could cum right now with how fast he’s licking your clit. He’s licking it as if he’s been starved for years and years.
You cry out in pleasure, so close to cumming. So close— so very close.
“Max, I’m gonna— oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!” You cry out in pleasure— well you actually scream it.
Then he speeds up, desperate to make you cum, desperate to taste all the cum you can give him.
And you do.
Your legs start to shake as your orgasm arrives. You scream out in pleasure, as explosions of cum squirt out of your pussy and onto Max’s tongue.
“Can you fuck me yet?” You ask him. You’re desperate. Even though he fucked you this morning, you need it again. You’re desperate to feel him inside you again.
“Of course, princess, of course.” He replies to you, stroking your cheek. You start to blush— you always blush when you feel his hands gently on your face.
Max instantly rips his pyjamas bottoms and boxers off before placing himself in between your legs and kisses you passionately. As he kisses you, he takes off your pyjamas top, revealing your naked beasts. He kisses down to your chin, then down to your neck and throat, leaving several love bites. Then he kisses down to your chest, kissing each of your breasts and leaving several love bites on them. Then he kisses down your stomach, all the way down your thighs. Then he kisses all up your inner thigh, leaning more love bites on them. Then he kisses up your stomach again to your chest, leaving a kiss on each breast. Then he kisses up your chest to your neck— he stays kissing your neck for a while.
Then he kisses up to your chin, biting it gently— this makes you moan. Fuck, it felt amazing. Then he places a gentle kiss on your lips.
Fuck, that felt amazing. How he kissed every inch of your body— it made you feel loved— it made you feel warm inside— it made you fall in love with him more than you already are.
Max moves his mouth to your ear.
“Are you ready for my cock now, princess?” Max whispers into your ear.
“Yes daddy.” You reply to him, desperately.
Max smirks at you and then he puts a confirm on and then lines his huge cock up with your soaking wet entrance. Then he pushes it in slowly and starts thrusting in and out of your pussy slowly.
“Why are you going so slow?” You ask Max, moaning. “Don’t stop— stay going this slow— it f— feels so good.”
“Be— because I’m tryi— trying to make this mom— moment as romantic a— as possi— possible.” Max replies to you, moaning.
You blush— that’s the cutest— he enjoys fucking you fast and just so you can have a romantic moment, he’s willing to go slow for you. He’s the best.
He tells by the look in your eyes that you really appreciate it— he kisses you, a different kind of kiss. Not sexual. It’s like to say, I love you so much and I’ll never let you go.
As you drive closer to your orgasm, you moans get louder and louder, so do Max’s growls, moans and grunts.
Wow, this feels fucking amazing. Max should fuck you this slow for now on.
“Can I cum inside you? In the condom.” Max asks you, moaning.
“Yes daddy! Yes!” You cry out. Fuck, the way he’s fucking you— you’ll never be able to forget about amazing it is.
With two last thrusts, Max empties his load in the condom, inside you with a gorgeous grunt. It’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. At the same time you cry out in pleasure and cum all over his huge cock.
Max pulls out and finds a towel so he can clean your legs for you. He always cleans you up after sex, he wants to make sure you’re well looked after.
After he wipes your legs he puts it in the suitcase, so it can be washed when you get back to England.
“Come on baby girl, we need to go for a shower.” Max tells you, holding his hand out for you to take. You take his hand and you both make your way to the bathroom.
***
Hotel - 10:20 PM
In the shower, you both hold onto each other, cuddling while you stand under the shower head, letting the water soak you’s.
Max grabs some shampoo and washes your hair. You lean against Max in the process, loving the way his wet hands move through your hair.
Then he rinses through your hair, with the shower head. Oh shit— it feels amazing. How can water against your hair feel this good?
Then he uses conditioner, running it through your hair as you play with his hair. But fuck, you can’t even concentrate on running your fingers through his hair when his gorgeous fingers on both hands are running through your hair. Jesus, it’s just fingers— 8 fingers and 2 thumbs, why does it feel so AMAZING?
After applying the conditioner to your hair, he lets it set for a few minutes before rinsing it out. While it’s setting, you wash your body and Max washes his.
After you finish washing yourselves, Max rinses the conditioner out of your hair.
Then you both get out of the shower.
***
Hotel - 11:15 PM
So yeah, you and Max might have spent a bit long in the shower, but you just got lost in time together.
You and Max wrap a towel around your wastes and Max dries your hair with a hairdryer. Max has been so romantic with you tonight, you don’t know what you’ve done to deserve him.
After that you both get into your pyjamas and go to bed.
Stupid of you to go sleep at 11:25 PM when you’ve go to wake up at 6:00 AM.
Monday memes from this last Monday!!Couldn't pass up Boba being Ron, and also found this incorrect quote from @multifandom-incorrect and wanted to sketch it out??
Author’s Note: For the prompt “ “I made some breakfast, if you’re hungry?” submitted by @day-off-inkyoto. This is pure filth, my very first smut piece and I’m quite pleased with myself.
Thank you to @day-off-inkyoto , @violentcosmicsymphony and @sarahjkl82-blog for beta reading and being subjected to my rambles over the last 24 hours.
Paring: Marcus Pike x F!Reader
Words: 1k~
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Pure smut, oral sex, sex, pancakes. All the good warnings.
Summary: Drinks at a local bar leads to a run in with your boss, Marcus Pike
When you had gone out for drinks after a particularly long day at the FBI headquarters in Washington DC you had never expected to run into your boss, especially in the slinky and short black dress you were clad in, let alone find yourself grinding against him to the blaring music in the dimly lit bar as he peppered kisses down your neck.
The night had begun innocently enough, you had run into Marcus at the bar as you ordered drinks and joined him at a quieter table towards the back. You had met Marcus Pike a year ago when he had moved to Washington to head up the team you were a part of. Harboring a crush on him since he arrived, you were delighted to see his more casual off the clock side. As each round came you and Marcus had moved closer and closer to each other until he had a loose arm around your waist and was murmuring delightfully obscene ideas in your ear. Dancing with Marcus Pike? Who knew that man had the moves? One hand gripped your hip as he held your ass tight to his groin, moving in time to the music, while his other hand skimmed under the hem of your dress.
International Female Orgasm Day was first celebrated on August 8th, 2007 in Esperantina, Brazil. It was created by the Councilman Arimateio Dantas when he passed a municipal law establishing the holiday in order to raise awareness for female sexuality and reduce stigma and taboo surrounding it, as well as repaying a "sexual debt" to his wife.
