Mira...

mira...

I LOVE YOU OKAY?

I am so happy you like this fic. Your comments always make me happy and I cannot express how appreciative I am of you. I dont get to see fics that go into depth about latino culture so I plan on bringing that with my latino boys.

I love the 50s so much, but I know good and damn well that the 50s were not very inclusive. BUT it’s good to learn rather than gloss over it.

i love reading every message, reblog, and post you write.

end of slides

dreamboat | greaser!frankie | part three

photo credit

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader; greaser!frankie x f!reader

warnings: violence, mentions of racism towards latinos, cursing

dreamboat: part one | part two | part three

masterlist

Frankie has been in this cold and dark cement cell for what feels like months – it has been 19 hours. It was only 3 in the afternoon and would be in this cell until 5 when his mother got off work. He may have been 18 years old, but the sheriff did not care – especially being Frankie. Frankie would not stop pacing to and from one side of the 6-foot by 8-foot jail cell and the sheriff was getting quite annoyed.

“Frankie, ya want a metal cup to rattle against the bars or will ya quit bein’ dramatic? Stop pacin’ or you’ll make a hole through the cement, kid.” Frankie stops pacing and looks at the sheriff sitting at the desk situated in front of the holding cell. “Ya actin’ like ya goin’ to federal prison. Tu madre viene por ti a las cinco, hijo. Relajate.”

Your mother is coming for you at 5, son. Relax.

Frankie sits on the floor, putting his head in his hands. He lets out a sigh as he rubs his face. He looks back up at the smiling sheriff and raises an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

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JAY WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS SO FLUFFY MY HEART I LOVE MARCUS SO MUCH 😭

key to your house

pairing: marcus pike / reader

word count: 1752

summary: you lose trust in your spotify after it airs out all your emotional laundry when marcus asks you to man the aux cord (but it’s spotify premium so it’s not like you’re gonna stop using it).

a/n: idk where this came from but have fun (also this is an unsponsored ad for spotify premium lol). first time writing for either marcus, no beta & 100% posted from mobile, sorry it’s shitty

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dreamboat | greaser!frankie | part three

photo credit

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader; greaser!frankie x f!reader

warnings: violence, mentions of racism towards latinos, cursing

dreamboat: part one | part two | part three

masterlist

Frankie has been in this cold and dark cement cell for what feels like months – it has been 19 hours. It was only 3 in the afternoon and would be in this cell until 5 when his mother got off work. He may have been 18 years old, but the sheriff did not care – especially being Frankie. Frankie would not stop pacing to and from one side of the 6-foot by 8-foot jail cell and the sheriff was getting quite annoyed.

“Frankie, ya want a metal cup to rattle against the bars or will ya quit bein’ dramatic? Stop pacin’ or you’ll make a hole through the cement, kid.” Frankie stops pacing and looks at the sheriff sitting at the desk situated in front of the holding cell. “Ya actin’ like ya goin’ to federal prison. Tu madre viene por ti a las cinco, hijo. Relajate.”

Your mother is coming for you at 5, son. Relax.

Frankie sits on the floor, putting his head in his hands. He lets out a sigh as he rubs his face. He looks back up at the smiling sheriff and raises an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

The sheriff takes a drink of his coffee and nods his head over at Frankie. “You are kid. Ya only got in a fight; ya didn’t hold up a bank.” He reaches in his desk’s cabinet and pulls out a silver flask. He pours a generous amount of a golden liquid in his coffee and goes to close the flask. He tuts as he looks back at the steaming black liquid and pours some more whiskey. This causes Frankie to laugh at the sheriff he came to know and like. The sheriff stands and walks over to Frankie, his mug of coffee in one hand and dragging his chair with the other. He places the chair in front of Frankie’s cell and takes a seat. He takes a swig of his coffee and looks at Frankie.

“I hope ya know your mom is goin’ to have a cow when I tell her why you’re in here.”

Frankie smirks and nods. “Ya ain’t tell her, yet?”

“What? That ya gave Oberyn a beatin’ ‘cause he was givin’ ya shit? Hell, that little bastard deserved it. If I don’t tell ya mom, you will.”

“Yeah? Well he was cruisin’ for a bruisin’. He should’a seen it comin’. Next time I see that cat, he’s gettin’ more than a couple’a shiners,” Frankie huffed. All he was able to give Oberyn was a good black eye and a couple of other bruises. The sheriff got called the second the boys went outside. He knew Rosie must have called the sheriff, but Frankie couldn’t be mad. The boys promised Rosie that there would be no confrontations in front of the diner – they did not do that last night. “Why I gotta tell my mom for? Aint you the sheriff? Shouldn’t ya be the one to tell ‘er why I’m in the can?”

The sheriff takes a deep breath and sighs. “Frankie, listen to me.” Frankie scoffs and rolls his eyes, waiting for the sheriff’s spiel about being responsible for his mother’s sake.

The sheriff sits straight and places his mug on the floor. He clears his throat and speaks to Frankie in the tone Frankie knows to shut up and listen. “Francisco, you listen here you little shit. You been in this very cell three times now, Tom having the record of 38, and ya feel like what? Ya feel like ya cool or somethin’? Ya mom already don’t like the friends ya hang with, except for Santiago. Ya think she likes seein’ you behind these,” the sheriff bangs on the metal bars for emphasis, “bars here? Now, I ain’t ya daddy, son. Nobody will ever compare to the man ya father was, but I know good and damn well he wouldn’t wanna see his only kid behind these bars. That man fought too fuckin’ hard for you and ya momma for you to be fuckin’ up ya life.”

Frankie stands up and leans against the cell, holding a metal bar in each hand. “’The fuck ya on about? You said it ya’self! I just got in’a fight. How’s that fuckin’ up my life?”

The sheriff stands up and gets close to Frankie. “Watch ya tone with me, boy. I ain’t one of your little friends to be gettin’ an attitude with, got it? You know that little betty you had ‘round ya arm? Her momma don’t like ya. Her momma got her head way up her ass, she don’t like anyone whose shoes aren’t new every day.”

Frankie chuckles at this.

“Hell she don’t even like me very much and I’m the law. Ya think she wants her daughter ridin’ round town with ya? Ya like her right? The more you get behind these bars, the further you get from her, you got it?”

Frankie nods as he walks away from the sheriff and sits on the concrete bench with a slump. The sheriff lets out a sigh and drags his chair back to the desk, taking a big gulp of his coffee. He grabs his newspaper and flicks it to straighten it out. He looks at Frankie and frowns. He decides to give Frankie one last piece of advice – something he promised himself he’d never use but he knew the young man needed to hear it.

“Francisco,” he says to catch Frankie’s attention. He continues even if Frankie doesn’t look at him, he knows he’s listening. “Tu padre murió por ti. El murió para que tu vivieras la vida que deseabas. Yo sé que este estilo de vida no es para ti y si lo eliges, entonces tu padre murió por nada.”

Frankie’s head snaps up and watches as the sheriff stands and walks out for a smoke. Frankie knew the sheriff wanted to leave the room for air because he would always smoke inside. From this moment to a quarter after 5, Frankie remained silent and still as he pondered on what the sheriff had said to him.

Your father died for you. He died so you could live the life you wanted. I know this lifestyle is not for you and if you choose it, then your father died for nothing.

As much as he wanted to cry and fight the sheriff, Frankie knew that the sheriff spoke only truth. Frankie’s father would have been incredibly disappointed, which only hurts Frankie the more he thought of it. The sheriff said that his father died for him and it’s true. If his father would have put Frankie’s name on that sign up, Frankie would have been dead by now. Instead of drafting 18-year old’s as stated, the US became desperate and sent off 16-year old’s with the promise of compensation for their families – that didn’t ever happen.

Frankie heard rapid heels clicking coming from the corridor and he knew it was his mother.

“Francisco Morales! ¿En qué pendejada te metiste ahora? Fue por ese Thomas, verdad? Ni se te ocurra mentirme.”

Francisco Morales! What bullshit did you get into this time? It was because of that Thomas, right? Do not even think about lying to me.

“Hi Mom.” Frankie sadly says. His mother holds up one finger at Frankie and turns to the sheriff. She offers him a tired smile and a quick hug.

“Ahora que hizo, Javier? Por favor dime que me lo puedo llevar a casa.”

What did he do now, Javier? Please tell me I can take him home.

Frankie hears his mother say. She sounds as if she’s about to burst into tears, her voice pleading and shaky. Frankie immediately feels a wave of guilt wash over him. He saw his mother break apart when they lost his father and was thrown as being the sole breadwinner – he couldn’t put her through pain again.

“Yes, Monica, you can take him. He just had a run in with that Oberyn kid again.” Frankie’s mother lets her head fall back as she groans. She looks back at Frankie and shakes her head.

“How many times do I have to tell you to ignore that boy, Frankie? He isn’t worth getting into it with. Did Tom throw you into it? He can never fight his own battles and he threw Santiago in last time. Pope’s lucky Javier called me and not his mom - poor woman would have a heart attack.”

Frankie shakes his head. “No mom. I got myself in it.” Frankie looks at Javier, the sheriff, and Javier gives him an assuring nod. “The boys and I took the new girl in town out to Rosie’s and Oberyn decided to ruin the night as usual. He just got out the can so he was lookin’ for a fight I guess.”

His mother and Javier stride over to Frankie. Javier unlocks the cell, allowing Frankie to come out and hug his mother. His mother gives him a kiss on the cheek and holds his face in her hands.

“Francisco, I know you thought you were doing the right thing. Did Oberyn lay a hand on the girl?”

“If I hadn’t punched him, he probably would’ve.”

Monica, his mother, gives her son a warm smile. “If you got in here for defending someone because you thought it was the right thing to do, then okay. I suppose what done is done, but I never want to see you behind bars ever again. Tal vez tengas 18 años, pero todavia te doy una paliza, cabrón.” she jokes - well half-jokes.

You may be 18 years old, but I’ll still beat your ass, dumbass.

As Frankie and his mother collect his things and sign the necessary paperwork, Javier calls for Frankie’s attention. He simply tells him “remember our little talk, Frankie. I ain’t try’na see you behind those bars again.”

A little talk Frankie will always remember and think about every day.

Frankie knew he should be going to his fifth and sixth periods, but he had already missed the first four, so why they hell not miss. He wanted to because he wanted to see you after the fiasco, but he was nervous. You saw him fight, get arrested, and get dragged away by Javier. He saw your eyes widen and fill with fear when he spat out blood and get put into handcuffs.

“So ‘Fish… where’s that little dolly of yours? You two get it on yet?” Redfly says. “Oh wait… ya been in the can!” The Bandits all laugh and Santiago slaps his knee while Will wheezes at the thought of Frankie in jail. Frankie takes a drag of his cigarette, staring at his friends and offering an eye roll.

“Alright laugh it up. I made it out, didn’t I?”

“yeah,” Santiago starts, “that’s only cause Javi likes us. If it were Oberyn in there, Javi would’a still had his ass locked up.” Pope gives his best friend a slap on the shoulder paired with a laugh and a quick just kiddin’ buddy.

The bell rings and the sea of people wave into the hallways. The boys bid farewell to each other, Will and Frankie walking to their class together. Will was the first to spot you in the crowd of people. He saw you walk with a student you had all your classes with; Maxwell Lorenzano, or Max Lord as he liked to be called now. The Bandits knew him, they knew him very well.

Max was a soc kid who would hang out with the other popular socs, but in actuality, Max was another Latino kid whose family were more like the Bandits. Both of his parents were greasers, and they knew what it was like to work hard yet not have a lot. His father worked all the time as a mechanic and his mother was a stay-at-home mom. His dad was always working on a motorcycle that would become his son’s first ride, but then something in Max changed. His whole life, Max wore a leather jacket and slicked back hair, not caring what the world thought of him, but as the times went on, the bullying got worse.

Just like Frankie, Max’s family was not always welcomed, but his aunt’s family was. His aunt was a greaser too, but her husband was a complete socialite. His family created and owned an oil business which allowed them to want for nothing. When Max saw the acceptance his aunt had received from her in-laws, it was a flipped switch. He asked to work with his uncle to learn all about the business. His uncle was elated to find out his nephew wanted to leave the “delinquent” life and become a businessman. Max’s face was plastered on the company’s ads and the popular kids wanted to be friends with him. He was accepted as a soc and even though his parents were upset, Max wasn’t entirely honest at school.

Max still worked on his dad’s motorcycle project. He still had his leather jackets and wore them at private family gatherings. He still knew the slang and attitude. He was still loyal to the people who liked him for him.

Max and The Bandits looked after each other as brothers. Even though he was not officially a member, Max had his BANDITS leather jacket at home, hung and clean. In order to keep his soc image at school, Max and the boys pretended to hate each other. Max pretended to be disgusted with their way of life and would throw insults here and there when the other kids would.

When Max saw Will and Frankie coming their way, Will gave him a discreet nod and Max reciprocated.

“Look what the cat dragged in… a couple of worthless hoodlums.” Max said. He turns to you and says, “C’mon, you shouldn’t associate yourself with these… things.” You look up and meet Frankie’s beautiful eyes. He seemed as if he wanted to jump out and say something to you but couldn’t.

“Don’t get yourself twisted up, Lord. Your little petty pants will wrinkle,” Will snickers.

Max rolls his eyes at him. “Move out of our way, Miller. We’ll be late.”

Will laughs and moves out of the way and gestures for him to walk. “C’mon, Polo. Keep it movin’.”

As you walk past the boys, Will offers a quick hey and you answer with a smile. You walk away, but Frankie calls you by name, causing you to stop and take a breath. You ask Max to give you a minute, him checking his watch and agreeing. You walk up Frankie and look at him, silently asking him to continue.

“I… I- Hi. How are you?” Frankie sputters out. He mentally slaps his forehead and cursing at himself. Is that the best he can do?

“I’m doing fine, thanks.” you quietly say.

Frankie tries to put together a mix of words, but none of it is coherent. Will lets out a loud and obnoxious sigh and puts his arm around Frankie’s shoulders.

“Catfish here wanna know if you wanna hang with’im after school. How ‘bout it sweetheart? The guy just got out the can and in need of company.” You raise an eyebrow at Will.

In need of company?

Max lets out a sarcastic laugh and walks to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you away.

“Her mother would have her head if she were caught with you guys again. You already got her in trouble once; no need for it to happen again.”

You look back at Frankie, silently apologizing, but in the end, Max was right.

When you got home that night, Will assured you that nobody would talk about it. The next day, your mother came back furious and you were ultimately grounded for being seen with those boys. Your father was not too happy either, but was mainly concerned about your safety, which was a valid concern. Your mother demanded for you to never talk to Frankie or she would have to take action.

What action? You were not too sure.

No matter how hard Frankie tried to talk to you, Max would either pull you away saying he needed your help, or your teacher would ask him to quiet down. Frankie was not one to give up, but he also did not want to be a pain in your side. He felt as if the odds were against him, but he was going to get you to talk to him one way or another – at least a single hello in the hallway so he does not feel as if he messed up entirely.

It was now Wednesday, and The Bandits sat at one of the outside tables by the cafeteria. They “joked” with people, rough housed as usual, having a good day so far, but when the soc table kept staring, the boys didn’t feel so cheery.

“Fuck ya lookin’ at, soc? You got a starin’ problem?” Tom yells.

“You should get daddy’s money to check that out,” Benny continues. Frankie turns in his seat and looks at the group of the popular rich kids sitting at the opposite table from them. He lets out a sigh, letting it pour out of his nose, as he sees you sitting next to Max at that same table. When he gets a chance to really see you, he sees red.

Michael, the school’s top athlete, has his arm around you and you appear to be uncomfortable – something Frankie never wanted to do. You look around awkwardly as Michael stands up and confidently walks over to the boys, other soc boys in tow.

“Look here boys. A bunch of nothings thinking they’re something,” Michael says. The soc boys all laugh and Tom remains tall, chest puffed out.

“Ya better watch what ya sayin, Mikey. Wouldn’t want ya to get hurt.” Tom rebuttles.

Two of the boys behind Michael walk up to the Miller brothers, a bit shorter than the two but still reeking of false confidence.

“You three must be tired of carrying these two brown boys, huh? Always quiet and only get involved when they’re forced.”

Max walks over to Michael, you trailing behind him, and tells Michael to stop and to come back to the table. Michael refuses, asking Max if he is worried about him hurting his own kind. You gasp and get in front of Max, facing Michael.

“How dare you? You dare call Max a friend and still, you berate him and these boys,” you start, motioning to the Bandits, “because they aren’t “your kind?” I’ll have you know that these boys are some of the most intelligent people I have ever met, a lot smarter than you.”

“Is that so, sweetheart? You think these delinquents are worth getting in trouble?” To this, you give him a confused look. “You think your mom hasn’t gone around rambling about how her daughter was seen with the worst kids in town? These guys bring their parents shame. Well… except Francisco over there… he got his old man killed.”

Michael barely got his final word out before he was on the floor holding his bleeding jaw Santiago caused. Santiago grabbed his hand in pain; it was a while since he punched someone so suddenly like that. No matter the pain, he wasn’t about to let the spoilt rich kid get away with insulting his best friend and his best friend’s father.

You look over to Frankie, who is still sitting at the bench stone faced. How could he just sit there after Michael insulted him and his father? You go to walk to him but Max pulls you, walking away telling you that you’ll talk to him later.

“I’m taking you home after school, okay? Michael called a meeting after school and I told him I’ll be there when I get you home,” Max explained. He talked fast and seemingly out of breath. He knew something was going to go down – no one drops Michael like that without consequences.

“Why are you worried? Max, is something going to happen?” You ask. He looks around and explains to you what has happened when Michael wants revenge. From legal actions to physically hurting someone, Michael will stop at nothing to make himself look strong and important. Max just told you to be careful and to stay inside.

And something must have happened because Max came knocking down your door and asking your mother if it was okay if he took you around town. Your mother oddly was happy to agree and Max piled you in the car. He drove fast and parked inside a green home’s garage. For a second, you were terrified that Max was forced to bring you to Michael, but soon let out a breath of relief when you saw Will come into the garage and greet you.

“Alright, Maxie,” Will said. “What is so important and secretive that you called us all here and brought her along?” Frankie adjusted his hat, a baseball cap that suited him quiet well, and played with his hands.

“We have to hide Frankie’s car. Now.” Max stated rapidly.

Frankie’s head shot up and the boys all together threw questions as to why we had to temporarily get rid of Frankie’s car.

“Max. What are we hiding my dad’s car for?” Frankie asks. His voice is quiet and laced with worriedness.

Max takes a deep breath and apologetically looks straight into Frankie’s eyes.

“Michael’s planning on crushing your car.”

dreamboat taglist:

@ickleronniekinsemotionalrange​ @funerals-with-cake​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​

taglists and requests are open!

THE OLD LADY IS A FREAK I LOVE IT OMG ITS THEM IN THE FUTURE AAAAHHH OMG

I don’t know if you haven’t written this yet but this gif made me think of joining the ‘Mile High Club’ with Frankie

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: SMUT - some silly, fun, and kinda awkward sex

A/N: So I wasn’t sure if you meant on his helicopter or what because I’ve already written something about that but I did something different here and I hope you like it!

[Frankie masterlist]

“Are you excited?” you asked Frankie as you squeezed his hands.

“Of course I am. I’m going on vacation with my baby...finally!” He said loudly and a few people turned to him making you giggle.

“Hawaii, can you believe it? I’ve always wanted to go and now I get to go with you and I’m so happy.” You kissed his hand and then his lips.

“You keep kissing me like that we’ll be christening that hotel room before we’re even able to unpack.” He gave you a quick kiss then sat back.

“The plane hasn’t even taken off yet and you’re talking about that?” You looked around then leaned in closer to him. “Don’t make me punish you, Francisco.” You kissed his cheek then sat back.

He grinned and shook his head. “This is gonna be the best fucking vacation ever. We may never leave the room...”

“Frankie!” you whispered, hitting his arm. He chuckled and took your hand again, looking down at it when he felt you squeezing.

“You nervous, babe?” he asked, turning his head to look at you.

“Taking off always makes me nervous.” Just the sound of the engines got louder and you closed your eyes. You sat back as far as you could, pressing yourself against the seat until you felt like you would go through it.

“I’m right here. Keep holding my hand.” The plane picked up speed and you squeezed his hand tighter.

“Sorry, am I hurting you? I’m sorry.” You took a few deep breaths.

“Nope, I’m good. Squeeze as hard as you need to.”

“Are we in the air--” You stopped speaking as you felt the plane lift off the ground. “Okay!”

“Yup. We’re all good, babe. Breathe.” He rubbed your knuckles. “You don’t act like this when I fly with you.”

“I know. Shut up.” You still couldn’t open your eyes.

“Wanna make out? It’ll take your mind off this...” he joked.

You opened your eyes and looked at him, exasperated. “Really, Frankie?”

“Got you to open your eyes,” he said proudly.

“You tricked me.” You pouted.

“Worked, didn’t it?” He smiled but you kept pouting. “C’mere. Gimme a kiss. I’m sorry, baby.” He kissed you then looked out the window. “Beautiful.”

“In your element,” you said with a smile.

“Yup.” When he looked at you again, he could see that your eyes were heavy with sleep. “You were up early this morning. Try to get some sleep, okay? I’ll be right here.”

“Promise?” you yawned.

“Promise.”

When you woke up, Frankie was looking at you with a big smile on his face. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

“Hey,” you croaked. “Are we almost there?”

“Nope.” He shook his head.

“Hmph.” You sat quietly for a little while then leaned over him to look out the window. “I guess it is kinda nice.” You felt Frankie’s hand on your back rubbing in small, comforting circles.

“We still got a few hours to go,” he told you, sneaking his hand under your shirt. You looked up at him then at the lady across from you.

“Careful, now...”

“I got an idea,” he whispered.

“What kind of idea?” You sat up and looked at him suspiciously.

“We can...you know...” He nodded in the direction of the bathrooms.

“You have to use the bathroom? Go.” You were about to move for him but he grabbed your thigh.

“I’ll go then you follow a few minutes after,” he suggested. You thought about it for a minute then your eyes went wide.

“Francisco Morales, are you crazy?!” you whispered.

He grinned. “Maybe.” He sighed when you looked like you were going to say no. “Babe, c’mon, we’re going on a trip we never thought we’d be able to and like...when will we ever be able to do this again?” He poked out his lips and blinked at you with those big brown eyes.

“...dammit Frankie...” You looked around again. “Fine. Go before I change my mind.”

“Really?” He hit the armrest excitedly then stood up and walked past you to get to the aisle and to the bathroom.

“A few minutes...a few minutes like what? Three minutes? Five minutes?” you asked yourself. You tapped on the chair nervously, impatiently. To tell the truth, you were actually pretty excited. You turned and smiled at the woman sitting across from you. Wouldn’t she notice that you were both gone? “Fuck,” you mumbled. You cleared you throat and stood slowly before walking to the bathroom and knocking on the door. Frankie opened it just a sliver and you made a face, pretending to be the one that opened the door, pushing in as best as you could. You were pressed to the door as Frankie reached around you to lock the door.

“How the fuck are we gonna do anything in here?” you whispered.

“We did it in a sleeping bag before. We can do this,” he said.

“Frankie, even a sleeping bag has more space than this. I can’t even breathe. How the hell am I even gonna get my pants off?”

“You only need to take out one leg and I can just slide the panties aside,” he whispered and something about the way he said it turned you on.

“Okay...let’s go...” You reached down to unbutton your jeans. Frankie leaned back to help, pulling them down enough for you to get one leg out. “Are you-” You looked down and saw the bulge that told you he was more than ready. “I guess you are.”

“Very funny.” He kissed you before you could say anything else and you fumbled with his belt buckle before finally getting it loose. You unbuttoned and unzipped him then reached into his boxer briefs. “Oh...fuck yeah...” He looked down and watched as you pulled him out. “This is so fucking hot.” Sliding your panties aside, he licked his fingers then rubbed them up and down your slit. You clapped a hand over your mouth to moan into.

“Jesus, Frankie...” You lifted your leg as best as you could and he hiked it up around his waist more before you guided him inside you. You cried out against his shoulder, digging your fingers into the fabric of his shirt. “Right there,” you whispered.

“Yeah baby?” He moved in to kiss you at the same time you did and your teeth knocked together. “Ouch...fuck...” 

You snorted out a laugh before kissing him properly. He was pumping into you as best as he could in the limited space. “Frankie,” you whined and he thought you were saying his name because it felt good. “Fuck...Frankie...”

“You like that, huh?”

“M-My leg is cramping,” you cried, grunting in pain. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...”

“Where? Tell me where,” he breathed. You moved your head to look at your leg just as he did and your head hit his. “Ow...shit,” he groaned and when you looked at each other, you both began to laugh.

“What the fuck are we doing?” you giggled as you point to where your leg was hurting and he tried his best to massage it. His thrusts had slowed down and he pressed his forehead to yours. You both laughed quietly. “I can’t believe you made me do this.”

“You’re having fun though,” he pressed and you nodded. He kissed you gently as he pushed into your deeper and you moaned quietly against his lips.

“You feel so good,” you murmured. You touched yourself as he continued his slow and deep thrusts. He still rubbed your leg where it had cramped. With another kiss, you came around him and put both hands against the door on either side of your head to help him thrust a little harder. “Mmm right there, baby...”

“I love you,” he moaned and then he was coming, grunting and breathing heavily against your sweaty skin.

“I love you too, Frankie.” You both stilled and stood there catching your breath. “Can I put my leg down now?” you asked and Frankie chuckled as he helped you lower it.

“How’s it feeling?” He bent to help you put your leg back into the jeans, kissing a thigh sweetly.

“It’s okay. Thanks to you.” You squeezed past him to wash your hands then fix yourself up a bit. “Who’s going out first?”

“I will.” He tapped your butt and gave you one more kiss before unlocking and opening the door. You waited a few minutes again and stepped out, acting as normal as possible and taking your seat beside Frankie again. You two smiled at each other and as if the pilot knew you were back in your seats, the seatbelt sign came on because of turbulence.

“You’ll get better at it,” the sweet old lady sitting across from you said and you were certain she meant the turbulence.

“Oh, the turbulence doesn’t bother me so much,” you told her.

“No, darling, I mean what you two went and did in the bathroom,” she said and your eyes widened. “It’s okay. I won’t tell but you had a slight limp as you walked back to your seat and I’m guessing it was from a leg cramp.”

“Y-Yes, ma’am...”

“My husband and I used to do that all the time.” She smiled as she reminisced. Were you really having a conversation about this with a nice old lady who was obviously a little naughtier than you thought? “It gets better the more you do it.”

“Okay,” you squeaked, sinking down into your chair.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Frankie asked, looking at the way you had slumped in your seat.

“Nothing. I’m okay.” You smiled at him then leaned over to look out the window again, laughing to yourself quietly. “Beautiful.”

frankie taglist: @fakenoods @oldstuffnewstuff @the-bird-suit @lestrange2703 @findhimfives @windfallss @limenlimon @66wookies @rach7 @surfsup666 @theghostwiththemost-babe @marshmallow--3 @mrschiltoncat @aplaceofpeace @josepedropascal @mitchi-c @panda-angela @jeeperky @allthingsnarcos @laymegentlytorest @stanfordscrush @fangirlingss @nathan-bateman @darthdumbasss @helga1031 @triggerhappyflygirl @master-obi-wan-kenboneme @ladybeediva @heythere80sbaby @deserttastesbitter @dindjstarin @mandodjarinn @frankie-stein18 @simsiddy @lightan117 @funkylittlebisexuall @16boyfriends-and-me @marvelousmermaid @slugbuggie @ladyblogger-margie @queenbbarnes @dodgerandevans @terrormonster55 @queridopascal

permanent taglist: @gallowsjoker @magicsuperheroes @feelmyroarrrr @the-dazzling-urbanite @phoenixhalliwell @liveloudwriteloud @tumblogbykarapaloma @jaime1110 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @pascalz @blancatobarxoxo @dazedrhapsody @pascalisthepunkest @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @cryptkeepersoul @tiffdawg @freak-of-nature2002 @kingpascals @saltywintersoldat @theocatkov @babybelou @mandilflorian @aeryntheofficial @cyaredindjarin @themarcusmoreno @the-feckless-wonder @loki-098 @arabellathorne @giselatropicana @dindisneydjarin @punkpascal @opheliaelysia @takens-world @huliabitch @stardelic @kandomeresbitch @havenforafrazzledmind @thisis-theway @stardust-galaxies @mrsparknuts @jedi-mando @frankiemorales @edencherries @lilkermit14 @virtualxjournality @ladytrashbird @thirstworldproblemss @emesispo @heresathreebee @tangledlove27 @marvgrrl @clydes-hole @hayley-the-comet @insoucianttt @witchyavenger @coaaster @starless-eyes-remain @wanderlustmags @wonderfulfluffer @lv7867 @lovelyasfcuk @pedropasscals @talesfromtheguild @pedroepascal @wigwitch @seasonschange-butpeopledont @theoria850 @roxypeanut @justanotherblonde23 @autumnleaves1991-blog @kenedyybrooklin @artsymaddie @dindjareen @silverfish-kingdom @heyitmelexie @gredandfeorgesgirl @mandaloriandindjarin @andriecastana @rosiefridayrogersunday @ssppoorrkk @amalie-buch @lucifer- @mstgsmy @randomness501 @max--phillips @darthadeline @youarenewformetoo @thehippiequilter @whovian-gurl @neverlandlibrarian @chibi-liz05 @dragons-of-the-usa @over300books @borderlinedindjarin @mudhornchronicles @cosmoschick @linkpk88 @lovingramsey @djvrins @escapedthesarlacc @coni-martina @pedrospunk @burrshottfirstt @jitterbugs927 @xserenax-13 @cyarikashakira @anatanotegami @doin-stuff @djarinsruni @aerolanya @icanbeyourjedi @bi-son-writes @strangelittlenobody @dinsbeskar @sarahjkl82-blog @neontiiger @houseofthirst @intu-witch-tion @ennuiandthebourgeoisie @littlebopper96 @boxdyeblonde @empressamidala @myheart-pedro @mtjoi @purplepascal042 @goalkeepernerd @rebelliouscat @leaiorganas @eternallyvenus @mandocrest @kellyozz @the-wishmonger

i hope everyone is where they want to be! let me know if you want to be changed around! join a taglist here!

thank you for requesting and giving me the opportunity to write about more of pedrito’s characters and work on fics with other authors who inspire me! I LOVE YOU INTERNET FRIEND

teamwork | jack “whiskey” daniels

pairing: jack “whiskey” daniels x reader

warnings: age gap, shootin + some gunsss, eggsy’s wink-a-roo

a/n: thank you so much @meshlamando for your help! i wanted to make sure whiskey gets a good debut, and you made it happen! a real yeehaw bitch there.

request by: @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange

masterlist

“T-this isn’t - fuck - a very good time, Champ!” You grit into your earpiece. You bring your elbow back and jab it into a man’s stomach behind you and kick the other in the shin, bringing them both down. “Whiskey! Will you stop clowning around and come help me?” you yell.

Your partner, Jack or also known as Whiskey, decided it was a good idea to get the ladies in the pool area to safety and leave you to your own devices taking down 7 grown men. You find it quite hard to fight off these weaponed guys with your boss screaming in your ear.

“No can do, Brandy!” You roll your eyes as you throw a chair in the fifth man’s direction and shoot the man behind him. “I got three boys tryin’ to get in a tussle down here!”

“Champ wants us back in the office, Whisk! What happened to teamwork?”

You hear him grunt and a ‘bang’ in the distance. “What does he want us for?” You hear him let out a hah! and then another grunt. “This is teamwork! I’m the distraction! Hey partner I ain’t finished with you yet!”

You laugh at hearing him on the other end. Your partner tends to like teaching bad guys lessons and you’re sure this is probably one of them.

__________

You struggle holding in your stomach’s contents as you see Jack continuously flirt with the three young ladies who are easily twenty years younger than him. You see him leaning on the desk, twirling a redhead’s hair in his fingers while the other two giggle like school girls. You roll your eyes and let out a sigh.

You were also younger than Jack, but that didn’t stop you from harboring a crush for your cowboys partner. From the moment you were an official Stateman, he was the first to treat you as an equal and offered to be your partner and show you the ropes.

That was almost two years ago.

Champ’s assistant calls you in and you give her a warm smile that soon goes away when Whiskey tips his hat at her and looks back as he passes her. You give him a back handed smack on the chest and a glare. He motions a confused hand movement and mouths ‘what?’ You smirk and look back at the office girls, the girls who went back to their daily jobs.

“You do realize that those girls are just old enough to rent a car right?”

Whiskey shrugs and adjusts his tie. “Yeah, but that don’t I can’t have a little fun, do it?”

You widen your eyes and chuckle. “So you just flirt with anything that walks… for fun?”

“Mhm. Don’t you?”

You simply shake your head side to side, earning a dry chuckle from him.

“So ya flirt with the people ya actually like? People who ya wanna date?”

“Yes, Jack.”

He laughs a single laugh. “I wouldn’t put that on a cat’s ass.”

You shake your head with a laugh as you finally walk in the office, but soon come to a stop when your eyes meet a young man’s own. He stands and gives you a smile. Whiskey tenses behind you as he follows your eyes to this new man on the other side of the table.

“There’s my two favorite liquors!” You laugh at Champ’s old, but timeless joke. “I want you to meet someone!” He turns to the young man and motions to him. “This here is Eggsy. He’s a kingsman across the pond. Kid, this young charm is Agent Brandy. The newest but one of the best.”

Eggsy extends a hand to you, and as you shake his hand, he gives you a wink. A wink that makes you blush and makes your partner clear his throat loudly. You look back and see Jack stand behind his usual chair offering a two-finger salute to the kingsman. “That there,” Champ says, “is Agent Whiskey. These two make up the best team ya ever laid your thick-rimmed eyes on.”

Throughout the meeting, you and Eggsy exchange a series of quick glances and small smiles. As you go to steal yet another look at the Brit, Jack kicks the back part of your chair, causing you to quickly look back at him. He pretends he doesn’t notice and looks at you with a nod.

And that’s what he does… he pretends.

He pretends he didn’t kick you. He pretends he didn’t see you and this new guy look at each other with goo-goo ga-ga eyes. He pretends he didn’t see you give the brit the smile he knows to be your flirting smile. He pretends that throughout the past two years, he hasn’t been looking at you differently than ever. He pretends he never thought about the idea of having you by his side when he wakes up. He pretends he never caught feelings for his partner in crime.

“So that’s where Brandy comes in. Everyone got it?”

Yourself, Whiskey and Eggsy all turn your attention to Champ, the person your attention was supposed to be on in the first place. You had no idea what the plan even was, but on the hologram, you saw your name and Eggsy’s on the same game plan. Naturally, you agreed to the plan sharing a smile with the newcomer, but the celebration was interrupted by Whiskey standing up and disagreeing.

“Brandy ain’t going alone, Champ. They’ve been my partner for two years so for that reason, I’m comin’ with.”

“Daniels, I don’t need two of my agents out there. Brandy can take care of themselves.”

“Sir, with all due respect, but-“

“Whiskey. Brandy is going and they’re going alone. Do I make myself clear?”

You look at your partner’s defeated look and stand up. “Champ-“

“Brandy, I ain’t tryin’ to hear it. You and Eggsy leave tomorrow. Whiskey stays here. If it makes ya feel better, Whisk, you can have an earpiece linked to Brandy’s. Better?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you, sir.”

________________

You hear a knock on your door as you’re ready to load up the jet. You knew the knock anywhere. The six-beat knock you’ve heard for two years.

“Come in, Jack.”

“Sweetheart, you ain’t goin’ alone.”

“Jack, you can trust me.”

“I know that, but it’s that Eggsy guy I don’t trust.”

You place your hands on your hips and cock your eyebrow. “And why not? He’s been nothing, but sweet.”

“That’s just the English talkin’! Why does a Kingsman need help from a Statesman?”

“Because we’re their American counterpart? We help eachother, Whisk!”

“Brandy, just 'cause trouble comes visiting... doesn't mean you have to offer it a place to sit down.” With that Jack gives you a tip of his hat and walks out. You’re left confused, but worried about your partner.

“What trouble are you talking about, Jack?” You say to yourself.

______________

“I don’t think your partner likes me very much, Agent Brandy.”

You take a sip from your glass, letting it go down before answering.

“Are you talking about Whiskey? He seems to be like that with anyone I’m asked to work with.”

Eggsy nods understandingly. “Seems to me like he’s jealous.”

“Of?”

“Everyone you’re asked to work with.” He laughs.

You smile and shrug. “He likes to be the only one who gets to bug me on missions. He can be annoying, but he has never let me down once.”

“Sounds like a great agent.”

“He is.” You say. You place your glass on the holder and stand. You wink at Eggsy and place a finger on your lips. “He’s a great agent and friend. He always likes to make sure I’m okay even if that means hiding in the bathroom.” You say as you quickly slide open the bathroom’s door.

Jack has his gun aimed, but quickly lowers it as he sees it’s you.

“I knew we had a stowaway.” You laugh out.

“I couldn’t just let my partner go to Germany alone. What kind of gentleman would I be?”

You grab Jack by his jacket and pull him out of the small bathroom and push him to sit down on an empty chair. You sit back on your own as you and Eggsy cross your arms over your chests.

“Do you really not trust me, Agent Whiskey? I’d never let a beautiful soul like Brandy get hurt,” Eggsy says.

“That beautiful soul is my partner. If I’m ever a goner, Brandy promised to be the one to deliver my last words.”

“Exactly. If you’re a goner. Not me.” You huff.

“I’m your partner, darlin’! I gotta return the favor, right?”

_________________

“Jack, will you stop? I think my outfit is fine!”

“You’re showin’ too much!”

“I’m not showing anything! That’s the only problem here”

Jack continuously tries to fix and adjust your outfit, making sure everything is covered - unfortunately.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just wanna make sure you're comfortable. Is that crime?”

You grab Whiskey’s hands, tearing them away from your outfit, and forcing him to look at you.

“Jack, it’ll be fine. I’m just going to get Eggsy into this party and my job’s done.”

Jack lets out a groan and throws his head back. “No, your job’s not done. You said you still have to stay in there and go into a room with this crime ring guy so you don’t raise any suspicion!”

“I've done it before, Jack! Why is it such a problem now?”

“There ain’t no problem” he sternly says.

“Yes, there is,” you groan out. “You’re so worked up about nothing. You were a tense mess in that office. What is it that you’re not telling me?”

Jack begins to pace around the room shaking his head. He removes his hat and chucks it on the table. You know there’s something is very bad when Jack carelessly throws his hat

“Jack! If you don’t tell me, I’ll call Champ right now and-“

His hands are suddenly cupping your cheeks. You look as Jack leans into you and droopily closes his eyes. His lips are on yours and his mustache tickles your nose. You’re in shock.

Your partner’s kissing you. The man you’ve had a crush on for what feels like decades is kissing you and you’re on such a high that you don’t kiss back. You’re scared that this may just be a daydream. You don’t want this moment to be a trick in your mind.

As he pulls away, you look at the sadness in his eyes. You’re a deer in the headlights as he shakes his head, apologizing for his actions.

“I’m so sorry. I- I just… Brandy, I just couldn’t take seeing someone actually woo you. I- I can’t lose my girl.” He rambles on and on, but is cut off by you.

You grab his face, as he did yours, and you kiss him. You kiss him and hold him tight, wishing this moment never were to end. He wraps his arms around you and deepens the kiss, mumbling please as he does so. You pull away with a final smack of the lips and smile.

“It’s about time you made a move, cowboy. Guess I really had to scare you to make you say somethin’ huh?”

“What are you on about now?”

“You really don’t know me, Jack!” You laugh out. “I don’t have to stay in a room with this guy! What am I? Crazy? I just have to help Eggsy get into this party through my contact! Then I get to have drinks on my own while Eggsy does the rest and only get involved if he messes up, which he might.”

“You’re bustin’ my balls, ain’t ya.”

“Nope. Since you’re here, we can have drinks all night until Eggsy’s done. If he messes up, that’s where our teamwork comes in.”

“So… you ain’t got your eye on this kid?”

“Well he’s attractive, yes. But I would’ve rather paired up with techie genius Ginger than work with a cowboy who can’t seem to focus on a mission when there’s people to flirt with around, if I didn’t like you.”

“I do not flirt with everyone.”

You scoff and smirk at the cowboy. “Would you like me to read out our ever-so-growing list of incidents?”

He places a chaste kiss on your forehead and you smile.

“No…”

LYNN.

darling. love. sweetheart... listen to me pls... MY HEAD CANNOT TAKE THESE IMAGES YOU GIVE ME EVERYTIME YOUR WRITE.

i am SINGLE! i have no one to live these thots with 😂 i will continue to live with King!Din running wild in my head bc he lives rent free and i suppose it shall stay that way.

you know me... im going to say this is fantastic and all that BUT BECAUSE IT IS.

period.

k byeeeee.

Possessive Nature

Rating: M

Warnings: Smut! Fingering, hint of breast fixation, blow job on a Throne™, a lil bit of biting, public sex, exhibitionist kink, possessiveness, facial, tiny bit of cockwarming. oh, and mentions of pregnancy

Pairing: King!Din x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Yet again, 🐒 anon is just fucking coming for me, guys, sending in yet another fantastic thot prompt. Aaaaand, because I have zero self control, I’ve written yet another oneshot. I tweaked the ask a little bit, but I hope you like it! I promise I am still working on my WIPS and all the amazing requests in my inbox, all will get finished!! (eventually…) Anyways, enjoy!

P.S. For reference, this is the style of dress I picture the reader to be wearing! (just the style of the dress, not necessarily the body shape/skin color of the model in the picture)

Royal Affairs Masterlist

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