Our Little Jailbird - Roger Taylor X Reader

Telltale Heart

A Frankie Morales x F!Reader one-shot

Rating: Explicit for strong smut, angst angst angst

Wordcount: 14.9k (I’m just as shocked as you are)

Dedications: To @yespolkadotkitty​​ you own my heart!! I love you beyond words, the mostest of them all; and most beloved crowned angst-queen, co-conspirator @thirstworldproblemss​​ Thank you both ever so much for your endless patience with me, talking me off the ledge from deleting and for being the most amazing beta-readers.

Also to @loversandantiheroes​ 🎂 HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! 🎉 you amazing genius you! & to @buttercup–bee​ 💖🐝 know that I love and adore you and your beautiful writing.

A/N: Nothing actually happens for 10k words, then they have sex for 8 pages (feel free to skip ahead to the “Spring” section). PLAYLIST SOUNDTRACK

Summary: It’s what always happens in the movies; the man grovels, the woman forgives. There’s a passionate kiss; all is well, cue the credits with a heart swelling cinematic score. But somehow you’re unable to forgive him. 

Photo by Rhendi Rukmana on Unsplash

Maybe the right decision would have been a divorce.

On paper, only a madwoman would have stayed. The man failed a standard drug test at work for cocaine and lost his pilot licence. Then still under suspension, he’d left the country for a month-long stint (promising it’d only be a week). Leaving you and your new baby at home. Leaving you to wonder if this meant you would have to carry on as a single mother from then on. 

When he finally returned, it was with $17,000 deposited in your joint bank account and a haunted look in his eyes, attached to a poorly made up lie.

And as you were contemplating whether to stay and forgive; or leave and resent him forever, your family and friends all told you that: ‘sometimes good people make bad decisions. They fuck up, but it doesn’t mean they’re bad. Just human, capable of making mistakes.’

Keep reading

Morning Dove (Billy Hargrove x Reader)

Birds Of Prey Pt. 2

Summary: Sneaking around becomes more and more difficult for Billy and the Reader, especially when they are right under Tommy’s nose.

Warnings:  Romantic themes, Mentions of Billy’s abuse, Tommy being mean to the reader, mentions of parental infidelity, crude language (use of the word slut)

January

Such an unfamiliar feeling it was, to have fallen so deeply in love with someone so fast that you could hardly keep up with the world around you.

It was as if nothing existed, just the two of you. It wasn’t like Billy Hargrove to fall in love, but he couldn’t deny the gut-wrenching thought of ever losing you, whether it be the way he lost his mother or the way most young lovers do.

Whenever he wasn’t sure if you had meant it when you told him you loved him, he’d call you in the middle of the night.

Your sleepy voice brought a sense of comfort to him, the image of your tired eyes almost unable to open as your cheek pressed against the side of the phone made his heart pound.

On this night he had found his way to your window, lightly knocking his bloody knuckles against the glass.

As your figure emerged from the shadows of your room, only to be silhouetted by the warm glow of your lamp, Billy longingly admired your shape. In nothing but your silky, pearl nightgown, you opened the curtains to your room. Your arms extended like miraculous wings, you were a vision of a dove.

Worry washed over your gentle features as you saw the state he had been left in. The corner of his mouth was split, dried blood smeared down his chin and along with his jaw, collecting under his nostrils in clumps. Purple bruises had begun to form along his swollen brows, a few slowly forming on the exposed skin where his chest peaked through his shirt.

Frantically, you turned the crank that opened the window. The air was frigid and brisk, goosebumps erupting along your arms.

“Hey, angel.” He choked out, stumbling into your room as your arms wrapped protectively around his strong back.

“Billy.” You breathed as he sank into your embrace. “Did he do this?”

“I talked back apparently.” He mumbled into your hair.

Guiding him backwards before turning him around, you say him down.

“Stay here, I’m going to go get something to wash and clean those cuts,” You explained, his hand catching your wrist before you could go. The sorrow in his eyes was undeniably painful to look at, it was almost as if he were scared for you to go, afraid you’d never come back.

“Billy?” You asked, glancing between him and your wrist. Slowly he let go, giving a sad nod. “I’ll be right back.”

Within a few minutes, you returned with an armful of supplies to help aid Billy. Setting them down on the mattress next to him, you gently wiped his face with the warm washcloth. His fist tightened once you dabbed the rubbing alcohol over his wounds, only to relax when your lips touched his forehead.

“Thanks,” he whispered, his hands finding your hips as he looked up at you. He nuzzled his head into your abdomen, rubbing against the smooth, silky fabric of your nightgown. Your fingers combing through his locks, soothing his nerves as he was still shaken by what had happened.

Your brows knitted together as you noticed blood seeping through the back of his shoulder.

Sliding your hands down from his hair and onto his shoulders, you lightly pushing him back.

“Let’s get these off, okay?” You asked, your fingers tugging at the collar of his shirt, his head gently nodding.

The bed dipped as you crawled onto the mattress, situating yourself behind his back. Billy shivered as your arms laced around his neck, sliding down his chest as your fingers undid the buttons of his shirt.

Peeling back the fabric of his shirt, you helped Billy wriggle it off of his arms.

Your chest tightened, your eyes growing wide. It was now that you realized just how badly he had been thrown around. Little scars branded his flesh, cuts and scrape’s coating his shoulder blades.

Desperately wanting to take away his pain, you peppered kisses across his back, as if somehow your touch would heal his wounds.

“How can I help you?” You choked, fighting back tears, unable to bear seeing him suffer like this.

The last thing he wanted was for you to feel any type of guilt or sorrow, especially not with his own issues and woes.

His body twisted around to look back at you, placing a hand on your lap with a sad smile.

“You can’t.” He whispered.

You pressed his bruised knuckles to your lips, before placing his palm against your cheek. His other hand found your other cheek as he leaned into you, slowly reclining you back onto the bed.

“Does it hurt?” You asked sadly, staring at his beautiful face that had been poisoned by his father’s rage.

“No.” He smiled as he stroked your hair, tucking it behind your ear. “Not when I’m with you.”

Your lips contorted into a sideways smile, pouting with amused eyes.

“Now look who’s being corny.” You teased,  rubbing your hand up his chest. Billy cocked a brow at you, delighted by your sudden change of attitude.

Your touches were soft, like feathers against hard steel as they wandered his skin.

The smell of bacon grease wafted into your room, at first you thought nothing of it, that is until you realized the only reason as to why bacon would be being made.

Your cheek was pressed against the warmth of Billy’s chest, panic now ensuing.

“Good morn-“ Billy began before you abruptly sat up, pulling the blanket up to your chest.

“My parents are home, they-fuck they must have come back early.” You exclaimed, a wild look in your eye.

Footsteps click-clacked down the hall, no doubt it was your stepmother and her Mary Janes. Your eyes fell on the doorknob, your heart nearly falling into the pit of your stomach as you realized you hadn’t locked the door.

“Honey! Breakfast is ready, come on you and your brother can’t sleep away the day.” She sighed, the knob turning.

Slamming your body against the door as it began to slowly creak open, your stepmother let out a loud gasp of surprise.

“Sara-Anne, I’m naked! I just got out of the shower!” You yelled, forcing the lock shut. “I’ll be down in a minute, okay?”

“Alright, um honey it might be wise to put on a towel. Don’t want to see you walking around in your birthday suit.” She huffed, still having a hard time grasping the strange behaviours of the two teenagers living in her house.

Billy watched in amusement, not even phased about nearly being caught by your stepmother.

“Get that smug look on your face.” You glared, before bouncing back onto your bed. “Or I’ll have to get rid of it myself.”

“I’m liking the sound of that.” He smirked, hooking his arm around you, pulling you into his lap. “How much time do you think we have.”

“I think I can schedule you in.” You murmured against his lips.

With a satisfied look on his face, Billy snuck out of your backyard. A cigarette hanging from between his teeth and bottom lip as he leaned over to light up-that is until a certain yellow blob in the wilting tree caught his eye.

“Well holy shit.” He said, the cigarette bobbing with his words.

He looked around, making sure the coast was clear before making an absolute fool of himself.

Within thirty minutes, Billy found himself tangled in branches, the small Canary tilting its head as Billy tried to grasp the small bird.

“Come here you little shit.” He seethed, the cigarette now on the sidewalk below. “Come on, I’ve gotta bring you back to my girlfriend- to your mama.”

The bird inching closer to the end of the branch, letting out a small chirp at Billy.

“Don’t you dare-do not take another step,” Billy warned, clinging to the branches as he inched closer to the bird.

“Don’t you want your mama?” The yellow bird perked up at the sound of “mama”.

“Oh shit, you like that word? Mama? Ma-Ma.” Billy cooed, making kissing sounds as he reached outward.

Mrs Elbert waddled along the sidewalk, her cane scraping against the cement. Her wrinkled face furrowed together as a leg hung down from the old sycamore tree.

“What in the hell?” She grumbled, shuffling closer.

“Got you, you little shit.” A voice exclaimed wildly from above.

A loud snap cracked overhead, followed by a series of profanities as Billy smacked against the grass, rolling down the small incline and stopping at Mrs Elbert’s white tennis shoes.

“What are you doing up in the trees?” The old woman nagged, poking his chest with the end of her cane.

Prying one eye open, Billy squinted up at the woman as the morning sun burned his eyes.

“Just bird watching.” Billy breathed shakily as the wind had been knocked out of him from the fall.

The small bird squirmed against his chest.

It was a miracle your beloved Morty had survived the cold months-despite all the odds stacked against him, he had found his way back to you.

You were surprised to see Billy at your front door, especially considering your entire family was home. When Tommy had called for you, his tone was annoyed more than anything.

“I found your bird,” Billy said, resisting the urge to smile or show any genuine happiness to see the excitement and joy in your eyes as you carefully scooped Morty up in your hands.

“You should’ve beat it over the head with a rock,” Tommy grumbled, annoyed his malicious actions hadn’t succeeded, as he pulled on a jacket.

“Thanks. It’s Billy…right?” You grinned once Tommy’s back was to you.

“Don’t mention.” He smirked, running his tongue along his front teeth.

It wasn’t long before your father whisked Sara-Anne off on another business trip three cities over.

It was only a matter of time before the seniors of Hawkins high pooled into your home, drunkenly dancing and hooking up in the hallway closet.

Tommy shotgunned his fourth beer, slowly beginning to feel buzzed, eagerly trying to impress Billy but to no avail as he had already disappeared into the crowd.

As Carol sloppily danced, her beer spilt onto the carpet.

“Careful, my dad will blow a gasket if he figures out I threw a party.” He scolded, Carol only laughing in response.

“Let’s go break in your new mattress.” She drawled, seizing him by the wrist and pulling him toward the stairs. Tommy wasn’t about to argue with her on that suggestion.

As the two tumbled down the upstairs hall, Tommy was now starting to feel the side effects of the four beers he had downed earlier. He sobered up pretty quickly as he noticed the light pooling out from under your bedroom door-accompanied with soft giggles and incoherent murmurs.

You had made it very clear you wanted nothing to do with his party, and that you would be hanging out with some friends from your school.

“Hey!” He yelled banging on the door, his words slurring. “That’s my sister’s room, y-you sick fucks.”

It was a dangerous game you were playing, having Billy under your roof whilst you were under him, all while your brother was lurking about the house.

April

“You can’t be serious.” Tommy rolled his eyes, tossing a baseball up into the air before catching it again. “There no way Billy is screwing my sister.”

“Half.” Carol reminded with a bored tone as she filed her nails. Her body sprawled across his bed, annoyed beyond belief that Tommy hadn’t so much as touched her since she arrived.

“Where the fuck did you even get that from? I mean, why would Billy even humour her? She’s a total loser, you saw how upset she got over a dumb bird. Billy only bangs babes.” Tommy asserted.

“Sounds like you want to bang him.” Carol quipped, not looking up from her nails.

Tommy ripped the nail file from her hand and whipped it across the room.

“You’re being a real bitch, you know that?” He snapped, her hands raised in defence as she rolled off the side of his bed.

“I’ve got to pee, if you don’t stop acting like a dick when I come back then I’m leaving.” She threatened before heading down the hall, leaving Tommy on his bed, Carol’s words simmering in his mind.

Susan Mayfield was a mousy woman, but she had a kind soul.

When she answered the door to a very distressed looking girl, she had expected that perhaps you needed to borrow the phone.

“Hi sweetheart, can I help you?” She asked with motherly concern, hiding her slender frame behind the door.

“Sorry, I wouldn’t have bothered Billy at home like this but I uh-I really need to talk to him.” You explained, glancing behind you now and then to ensure Tommy hadn’t followed you.

“Billy? Right, of course! Come on in.” She said opening the door, stepping out of the way to allow you through.

“Thank you, it’s just I-I didn’t know what else to do.” You said, picking up your bird cage with a chirping Morty inside. “Is it okay if I bring him in, I don’t want him to get sick and-“

The tears began to spill down the sides of your face as you thought about what Tommy threatened to do to your bird.

“Of course, please come inside. My husband actually just stepped out, so don’t mind the quiet.” She said, placing a welcoming hand on your shoulder as you sniffled.

As she led you down the hall, you couldn’t help but notice the old wallpaper that seemed to be falling apart at the seams. 

It was strange, the more you thought about it the more you realized that Billy had actively made an effort to avoid bringing you over to his home. Although, you couldn’t blame him for not wanting to, considering his home life wasn’t exactly pleasant.

“Billy?” Susan asked very softly as she cracked open his bedroom door.

He looked up from the records that he had been organizing, somewhat surprised by Susan’s presence.

“Yes?” He asked in a confused tone.

“Your girlfriends here, um she seems very upset.” She whispered, glancing back at you as you seemed to have spaced out.

His eyes widened at the term “girlfriend”. It was strange to hear it out loud as neither of you had ever said it other than in the safety of your room or his car. His attention quickly dissolved from the label of your relationship and onto the part about your distress.

“Oh.” He said, quickly getting to his feet once he saw the state you were in as Susan gestured for you to come over.

Susan closed the door behind her to allow for some privacy, still worried about you as she returned to the living room.

“I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want me to come here but I just-“ you couldn’t form a proper sentence as you unravelled in front of him.

Billy took the birdcage from your hand and gently set it down, proceeding to engulf you into his embrace.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” He cooed, stroking the back of your hair as you began to sob.

The closest he had ever seen you cry was the day he first saw you, when you nearly wept right then and there over the loss of your bird, then again on the night he found himself in your bed completely battered.

“He said-Tommy said he was going to kill Morty. That he’d go into my room when I wasn’t home, unscrew the lock that you put in for me, and break his neck.” You explained, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt.

“Carol put the idea in his head that there was something going on between us.” You paused, stepping back to meet his gaze. “Billy, he’s never liked me, but the way he looked at me the way he spoke to me was pure hatred.”

You were a product of Tommy’s father and his infidelities. You had taken his family from him, in his eyes of course, and now you were taking his friends. It was far from the true reality, but Tommy was hellbent on making it loud and clear that he was not about to let you ruin another pointless aspect of his life.

“Y/N, stay here. I’m going to go knock his teeth in and break his-“ Billy seethed but was cut short by your cries.

“No, please! Please, he’ll kill my bird.” You whimpered. “Please, just leave it. I have to go home to him not you.”

“Then why come here? Huh?” He asked, not angry with you but rather angry that you wouldn’t allow him to protect you.

But alas, this was your fight, through and through it was your battle to be won, for your wings hadn’t been clipped.

“The same reason you came to my window in the middle of the night covered in bruises.” You retorted.

The hard lines in his face slowly dissolving into nothing as he began to understand just how similar you two were when it came to the problems you faced at home.

At that moment he thought of Max. 

Billy Hargrove thought of how terrified he was of his father, and how scared you were to face the wrath of your own brother.

Then he thought of the look on Max’s face when he grabbed her wrist that day in the car.

No matter how many times he had gone over it in his head, no matter how many times he told himself it was for her own good, that his bigoted father would unleash his anger onto her the way he did nearly every day onto Billy, if he found out who she had been hanging around with.

He could convince himself he was protecting her, but in reflection he knew had only frightened her.

“Follow me, bring Morty too.” He said after letting out a heavy sigh.

Following after Billy, carefully holding the cage in your arms, you lingered behind him as he knocked on his sister’s door.

“What?” The younger girl asked, clearly not happy about seeing her step-brother at her door, although when she saw the tear-stained face of the girl behind him, with a birdcage, clung to her chest, she had a feeling something was wrong.

“Max, could you watch Morty- her bird for a bit?” He asked, knowing too well what would happen if Neil found him in his own room, the memory of his goldfish being flushed down the toilet-still well and alive- when he was in the third grade haunting the back of his mind.

“Uh…sure.” She said, only agreeing for your sake as the sadness in your eyes was enough to compel anyone to help.

It was one of the few times Max had seen Billy show any emotion other than anger or annoyance, he seemed worried. 

He seemed human.

“Look,” Billy said as he stuck his tongue out at you, revealing the blue stain covering it.

You laughed happily, revealing your matching blue tongue.

It had become a sort of ritual between the two of you, whenever one was feeling down or had a rough day you’d make your way to the gas station and get a slushie.

In all honesty, Billy hated the blue raspberry flavour-it was far too sour and the sweetness didn’t last long enough for his liking. It was only when he saw the happy look on your face after he chose your favourite flavour, that he would pretend to love it every single time.

“Thanks for this.” You sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder whilst placing your drink in the cup holder. “I feel a lot better now.”

“Are you coming to the game tonight?” Billy asked as he stirred his straw around the blue slush.

You sat up, facing him now.

“You want me to?” You smiled.

Billy hadn’t allowed you to step foot inside Hawkins high. Whether it be from the shame he felt by his reputation or the desire to keep his two worlds apart, he was pretty adamant about not taking you near the high school.

You attended West Lafayette, an all-girls school that was an hour bus ride into the next city over. The girls at school practically drooled when you showed them a picture of your “secret boyfriend” that you had taken of him at the video store, as it was part of a promotion for Polaroid.

With the Sadie Hawkins dance approaching at your school, and the various dances thrown at Hawkins you were itching to ask Billy to go with you. Now that he had bridged the gap between your relationship and school, you thought maybe he would be open to the idea.

“Of course, I need my girl on the courtside. You’re my lucky charm.” He said, tapping his hand against your thigh.

Your brows narrowed as a mischievous look spread across your face.

“Am I…magically delicious?” You grinned.

For a moment Billy had a salacious look in his eyes, taking your words as come on. That is until he realized you were referring to the cereal brand slogan.

“You are relentless.” He groaned leaning his head back against the rest. “I walked right into that one, huh?”

“You love me.” You said nudging into his shoulder. He couldn’t keep a straight face for long as he broke into a toothy grin, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

The gym erupted into shouts and whistles as the cheerleaders pooled in, waving their pompoms as they pumped up the crowd.

It was strange seeing how excited people got over a basketball game, especially for a high school team. Sports at West Lafayette were more serious, there wasn’t a big production made out of the lacrosse games and scouts frequented the soccer tournaments.

One of the cheerleaders giddily ran up to you, waving the pompoms in your face and chanted “let’s go Hawkins Hawks” before running back over with the rest.

You found a spot near the back, hoping to go undetected by Tommy.

Your hands tucked the back of your sundress under your thighs as you sat down on the bleacher, pulling the sides of your cardigan closer to your body as the gym was rather cold.

As the basketball players piled into the gymnasium, sneakers squeaking against the smooth floor.

“Look at that ass on Hargrove.” A girl squealed, elbowing her friend next to her.

Your smile faded at her words, somewhat feeling insecure about yourself.

“What I’d do to do him.” The friend giggled, taking a sip of her coke.

Your fingers curled around the fabric of your dress. You hadn’t even humour the idea that Billy was embarrassed by you or even if he was just using you, and that being the reason as to why he never wanted to bring you around the school.

Of course, you knew that wasn’t the case, Billy wasn’t going to flaunt you around at Hawkins when Tommy was there. But the more you heard the Hawkins girls gush over him, the more insecure you felt.

Once the game finished, you lingered around the halls, holding your breath until Tommy finally left.

Glancing over at the clock on the wall, you let out a sigh as thirty minutes had passed by. It seemed as if every player but Billy had made their way out of the change room.

Hesitantly you pressed your palms against the door, a gust of steam blew against your face. The squeak of the shower tap echoed in the empty change room, bouncing off of the steel blue lockers.

“Billy? Hell-ooo” You sang, folding your arms across your chest.

“Back here babe, sorry I’m taking so long.” He apologized, walking out from behind the showers, a towel wrapped around his waist.

You found yourself staring at his bare chest, swallowing had as you snapped back up to his eyes.

“You were really great out there. The way you just, y’know tossed the ball around, scored on the hoops.” You complimented.

His hands were warm as he cupped your face, bringing his lips to yours.

“Thanks.” He smiled, brushing your hair back off of your shoulders.

Halfway to his car, Tommy realized he left his keys in the change room bench.

“Fuck. I left the keys in the locker, I’m gonna go grab them. Watch my shit.” Tommy said to Carol before jogging back toward the school.

He paused for a moment as he stood outside the locker room. A devilish grin spreading across his face as he pressed his ear to the door.

“Billy’s getting it” he laughed before bursting into the locker room, eagerly awaiting to see the look on his face.

Unfortunately for Tommy, the joke was on him.

It was a horrifying sight, to see Billy pressed against you as you leaned on the lockers. Your hands tangled in his wild locks, as his lips devoured yours hungrily.

“What the FUCK Hargrove!” Tommy growled, prying him off of you.

Thankfully, Billy had already put on some pants so he didn’t have to worry about his towel falling-not that he’d care.

“Get your hands off of me, bitch,” Billy growled, shoving Tommy backward, slamming into the other set of lockers.

“Really, Hargrove? Making a slut out of my sister?” Tommy seethed, glaring at you before returning his gaze to Billy.

“Don’t you fucking call her that.” Billy roared, his fist connected with your brother’s jaw.

“Stop, Stop!” You demanded, wedging yourself between the two, your hand forcing Billy back by his chest. “Let me handle this-please, for my sake.”

His jaw set in a tight line, his head nodding ever so slightly.

“Tommy, I’m not doing this anymore. We are eighteen now, not five. I don’t give a flying fuck if you don’t like me, quite frankly I fucking loathe you.” You fumed.

“You fucking bastard.” Tommy spat, having lost all control over you.

“Don’t call me that.” You warmed.

“The minute I get home, your bird is dead.” He threatened before stumbling backwards, caught off guard from your fist uppercutting his chin.

It was in that moment that there was a shift in power within the H household.

No longer a feeble dove pinned under the sharp talons of the monstrous vulture, you were now a Phoenix, emerging from the ashes of your predestined burden.

You were free.

Taglist: @madhatterweasley @characterobsessed @cometoceantrenches @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @mayfieldsgirl  @billyhargrovedaddy@kaliforniacoastalteens @denimjacketkisses @edgyeggy0 @klarissa141dr5

Frankie x Reader: Hunt, howl, and hatch. "All the doors are open 'cause thr air conditioner's busted."

SIgh. I love one (1) flannel boyfriend so much.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You stared at the house, a low sigh escaping your lips as you realized that you were going to have to step out of the cool comfort of the car, where you had kept the air conditioner blasting since you’d gotten in. A heat wave was sweeping through the area; it was getting to the point where you could step out the front door and immediately be drenched in a layer of sweat. Curse summer, you thought to yourself, the worst season.

Your eyes narrowed when you looked closer and found that the front door was open, the screen door providing the only barrier. The windows all appeared to be thrown wide open as well. Groaning, you grabbed your keys and opened the door, ready to give Frankie the 3rd degree as to why he had everything open instead of closing off to keep the cool air trapped inside.

A few beads of sweat almost instantly dripped down your face and you hastily wiped as you trudged inside. Frankie’s truck was there, and you knew he was home before you today. You were looking forward to a cool reprieve, but you might have to stick to a cold shower.

“Frankie?” you called out as you stepped into the front door and shut it behind you. Something was immediately off when you realized that the low hum of the air conditioner wasn’t reaching your ears. Shit, “baby?”

A minuscule groan met your ears as you walked into the living room and found the french doors to the backyard open as well. But your husband was nowhere to be found. Walking over to shut the doors, a small yelp escaped your lips as you almost tripped and fell over a pair of long, tan legs. He sat up bolt right in a flash as he caught you and prevented what could have been a nasty fall, “honey, are you okay?”

“Holy shit, Francisco!” you plopped on your bottom with a small oof before taking him in. He was there in nothing but his boxers, a small sheen of sweat covering his whole body. Under any normal circumstances you would have definitely taken advantage of the situation, but right now you were simply not in the mood, “what the hell are you doing on the floor...in your boxers?”

“It’s hot,” he stated simply, “all the doors are open ‘cause the air conditioner’s broken. I’ve called every place in town but they’re all slammed right now. They can’t come until at least tomorrow.”

Your mouth dropped before you sighed heavily; you wanted to be annoyed or mad, but you couldn’t. It wasn’t Frankie’s, or anyone else’s fault....just extremely bad timing and inconvenient, “of all the times. But Frankie, mi amor, you’re supposed to keep everything closed up to keep the heat out, not let it in.”

“I was hoping there would be a breeze,” he gave you a sheepish grin as you reached over and ruffled his dark locks, “I can’t believe I didn’t remember that.”

“You’ve got a lot going on, baby,” you couldn’t but smile as he keened into your touch, “but sometimes I wonder if you possess any common sense.”

“Hey!” he pouted at you, those damn lips inviting as ever as you leaned over and gave him a small kiss. Instantly his frown turned into a smile, his dimples standing out brilliantly on his handsome face, “I guess I forgive you.”

“I’d offer more,” you winked at him, “but it’s too damn hot.”

“Take your clothes-”

“Francisco Morales,” your eyes widened as he pointed at himself, and you quickly realized what he meant, “oh.”

“It’s not much, but it helps a little bit,” he insisted as you nodded, reaching up and starting to pull of your top as he tried to not to appear too eager. A little smirk crossed his features when he realized you were wearing your black lace bra. He was a simple man, he appreciated some good looking lace, "maybe you should keep your clothes on. You're gonna make it too hot in here."

"Shut up, you big dork," you tossed your shirt to the side, giving him a playful nudge before starting to shimmy out of your jean shorts. He let out a small groan at the sight of the matching panties, "like what you see?"

"You're fucking killing me, honey," he groaned as he laid back down and let out a long breath, "looking like that. God, I love you so much."

"Or you're just horny," you laid down next to him, already feeling slightly better from the loss of your clothes. Frankie brought a hand to your face, gently running his fingers over your cheek. The mildest of breezes had finally arrived, and you let a small sound of content, "I love you so much, Frankie."

He leaned over to kiss you, gently nuzzling his nose against yours. The warmth of his body next to yours was almost too much, but you didn't mind, you loved being close to him.

"I have an idea," he said suddenly and you couldn't help but giggle. You dragged a finger along his nose, before stopping and giving it a kiss. You loved his nose, it might have come of your favorite things about him.

"What's your brilliant plan? Is it as good as opening all the windows and doors?"

"Hey!"

"Sorry, baby," his hands went to your hips as he pulled you closer, his touch magnetic on your warm skin, "what's your plan?"

"Cold shower," he said with excitement, and you broke into a fit of laughter. He hadn't realized just what he had said at first before it dawned on you.

"I told you that you were just horny," you teased as you sat up, quickly moving to straddle his waist as a wicked idea popped into your head. Frankie just groaned as his hands found purchase on your hips, "what's wrong, baby?"

"Nothing," he murmured before sitting up right, holding onto you and picking you up as he started to heading towards the bathroom, "it's time for a cold shower."

"It won't be cold for very long!"

"That's the plan, sweetheart," he almost growled in your ear, "that's the plan."

Within Six Days - masterlist

Summary - You, the valedictorian to-be, and Eddie, the bimbo pothead, start studying together so he can graduate. In return, he shows you a more "wild" life.

Status- Completed

General Warnings - drinking under 21 and weed smoking, premarital kissing, let me know if i missed something major

AO3 Link

~~

"Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?" The one where Ms. O'Donnell decides you and Eddie would be a good pair. 585 words

"O, I am Fortune's fool!" The one where you and Eddie study and he invites you to an unofficial Hellfire meeting. 4K words

"O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art as glorious to this night." The one where you and Eddie hang out after studying (AKA weed is smoked). 6.1K words

“Juliet is the sun." The one where Robin viciously makes fun of you and Eddie almost admits to having a crush on you. 798 words

“For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.” The one where you and Eddie go to a party together (AKA senior dorks drinking before the age of 21). 4.7K words

 "Parting is such sweet sorrow.” The one where Eddie forgets about your play and Robin manipulates you into working. 4.6K words

“O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?” The one where the school play finally takes place. Will Eddie be able to talk his way out of retaking his midterm so he can be there? 5.6K words

"Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again." [Epilogue] The one where you and Eddie graduate and you deliver your kickass valedictorian speech. 1.3K words

Security (Season One) - Masterlist

main masterlist • season two masterlist

summary: You had heard the story: the best bounty hunter in the parsec, the Mandalorian (Din Djarin), had acquired the asset—with the largest reward the parsec had ever seen. However, when you see this Mandalorian trying to rescue the child from captivity, you can’t help accompanying him on his run from the law. When he discovers that you‘re a fighter, he agrees to hire you as an addition to his team and as an extra protector over the child—not realizing that, as a runaway princess from an Old Republic planet, you’ve got a bounty of your own hanging over your head. With death creeping around each corner accompanied by a tracking fob, you’re not sure what your fate is—but you surely won’t let it take any one of you anytime soon.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x f!oc-insert

includes: violence, fluff, swearing, angst, childhood/current trauma

gifs: you can find a visual of each chapter made by the incredible @jackgrzs

stream the security playlist while you read!

chapters:

Chapter 1: The Mandalorian

Chapter 2: The Princess

Chapter 3: The Hunter

Chapter 4: The Soldier

Chapter 5: The Village

Chapter 6: Confliction

Chapter 7: The Attack

Chapter 8: The Ruin

Chapter 9: The Recovery

Chapter 10: The Hunt

Chapter 11: The Rookie

Chapter 12: The Job

Chapter 13: The Gang

Chapter 14: Domination

Chapter 15: The Scar

Chapter 16: The Magistrate

Chapter 17: The Confrontation

Chapter 18: The Plan

Chapter 19: The Culmination

Chapter 20: Salvation

Chapter 21: The Riduurok*

Ethereal (Interlude)

Nova (Interlude)

Let’s Do It (Let’s Fall in Love)

Masterlist

Pairing: Roger Taylor x OC 

Theme: Fluff 

Word Count: 3100+

Written for the @bowieandqueen11 fluff writing challenge! This was such a great idea and I had so much fun writing this. I’ve got a LOT of ideas so if people enjoy this I might actually make it a multipart fic. 

My prompt was: “It’s you. You’re the one I love.” Enjoy! 

Brian had been the one to introduce them. He and Genevieve had met during their first year at University, and although Roger had heard her name several times, it took over a year to meet the illusive redhead. That changed late one night in November, when Brian had finally decided to bring her to the flat while Roger was home. She’d been a little shy, returning his wide welcoming grin with one a little more muted and uncertain, but after the first bottle of wine had been finished she’d loosened up a little. They’d ended up sharing the cramped loveseat together while Brian had curled up in the armchair opposite, and as their shoulders bumped and he heard her laughter, Roger swore he felt giddy, but he blamed it on the alcohol.

They drank late into the night, until she started to slump back against the couch cushions, looking between him and Brian through heavy lidded eyes, and they decided it was time to sort out sleeping arrangements. The three had drunkenly argued over who would be sleeping where - Brian obviously couldn’t sleep on the loveseat, and even she would have been uncomfortable in it. Finally, after realising none of them would be able to get a half decent night’s sleep in the living room, she’d proposed sharing a bed with one of them. Brian had locked eyes with Roger over her head - he knew what his flatmate was like - and had suggested Genevieve take his room before stumbling off down towards his room ahead of her, bouncing off the walls of the corridor like a ping pong ball. She and Roger had watched him go with matched looks of bemusement, before she bid him goodnight and followed the lanky guitarist. Roger had paused in his doorway as she approached Brian’s room, stopping just shy of the threshold. He’d seen her nose wrinkle in distaste.

“What is it?” He asked, keeping his voice soft. There was a pause, and then a giggle as she turned to face him.

“Brian snores.” She whispered, and sure enough, as Roger got closer he realised he could hear the telltale snores of a very drunk Brian, who’d apparently passed out as soon as he’d stumbled into his room.

Inviting her to sleep in his room had just been the gentlemanly thing to do, at the time. When he jerked his thumb in the direction of his silent bedroom it had been completely innocuous, but when he woke up just before six, his arms wrapped around her and her back pressed up against his chest, it felt a whole lot less innocent. During the night they’d ended up spooning, so when he woke his nose was pressed into soft auburn curls, arms wrapped loosely around her waist as he anchored her to him. As she shifted in her sleep, burying her face into the pillow, Roger felt her hips swivel a little, her ass grinding back into him, and somewhere in his still-drunk mind the thought emerged to ask if she fancied a quick shag.

Bad idea, Taylor. He scolded himself. Friends don’t fuck their roommate’s friends.

Instead, he closed his eyes and settled back into the mattress, her hair tickling his nose as he pulled her a little closer, more out of habit than anything. Not that he would have told anyone, but waking up with someone curled up in his arms was one of his favourite things in the world.

They didn’t speak about that night for a long time. Brian had no idea Genevieve had spent the night in Roger’s room instead of his - he was the last to wake up and stumble into the kitchen, where she had already prepared a pot of coffee, which she and Roger were sharing as they nursed their hangovers. When he asked her if she slept well, his back to them as he rooted around in the fridge, he missed the sly smile she and Roger shared over their coffee cups.

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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Asrior, Hlin, Thor (Marvel), Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Warriors Three (Marvel), Sif (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Hogun (Marvel), Pepper Potts, Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Kagoq, Valtur the Unmerciful, Ragnar the Undaunted, Sazur Additional Tags: Asgard (Marvel), Avengers in Asgard, Canon Divergence - Post-Thor: The Dark World, POV Loki (Marvel), POV Female Character, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Angst and Fluff and Smut, Uneasy Allies, Developing Friendships, Drama & Romance, Loki is Not Amused (Marvel), Slow Burn, Danger Summary:

After paying for his crimes, Loki has earned back Thor’s trust if not the other Avengers. And though the God of Lies believes that he has reformed, he takes a dangerous path toward revenge—and his enemy’s daughter must pay the price for his convictions before he realizes how much he has yet to learn. Loki/OFC, Thor, warriors of Asgard, Tony S., Bruce B., Cap, and other superheroes.

Sirius Black - Fic Recommendations

Main Rec Masterlist

@untildawnremus

Young, Dumb and Hopelessly in Love -> your relationship with Sirius

@marveliskindacool

I’m fine -> contrary to popular opinion, Y/N knows Sirius doesn’t like her.

@once-upon-a-time-there-was-agirlan-imagine

Ten Things I Hate About You - Part 1: -> Sirius imagine where the reader is James’ twin sister

@siriusbalckfics1 -> Reblogs Sirius Black Fics

Rough Day (The Mandalorian x Reader)

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: When you woke up this morning, you didn’t really think it would be a “fixing Mando’s knife wound and then giving him a handjob” kind of day today but hey, who knew that agreeing to babysit a bounty hunter’s weird, green little child would be so full of surprises.

Warnings: Smut, language, handjobs (duh), dirty talk, Pedro Pascal (deserves his own warning), mentions of blood, spoilers for the Mandalorian.

Maker, why is this even a thing?

You don’t know his name.  You’ve never seen his face.  He barely says a word, doesn’t even move much unless he needs to.  If he didn’t have such an obvious complex about droids, you would’ve thought he could be one himself, quietly forged and hidden beneath gleaming beskar armor for an untold number of years.  You know practically nothing about him other than the few things you’ve heard about his culture—most likely either grossly exaggerated or just flat out nonsense.  Everything about him is an enigma, even down to the vaguely impersonal things, such as the technical name for his “poof gun” or what insane percentage of his body weight metal has to account for.

But that doesn’t stop you.  Nope, the fact that you’ve never even seen a strip of his skin doesn’t stop you from nursing a stupid, helpless crush on the quiet bounty hunter.  Stars, it’s ridiculous.  The modulated, low baritone, the intimidating way he carries himself, so stoic and dark and foreboding and tall—

He terrifies you.  You’re absolutely terrified of bothering him, of being too forward or inquisitive.  You sit in the cockpit with him for hours in dead silence, kid perched on your lap in the copilot’s seat to keep him from touching anything, hypnotized by the way his helmet subtly reflects the streaks of hyperspace as they race by and thinking about all the impossible things you want to know but can never ask about.  The last thing you want to do is accidentally test his patience, possibly get marooned on some backwater planet somewhere because you just couldn’t accept something so beautifully mysterious for what it is.

So you ultimately strive to be almost as quiet as he is, always helpful but never in the way.  You troubleshoot mechanical issues with the vessel when they make themselves known, take the baby in one of the secluded areas of the hull and play peekaboo for a bit when he gets too fussy, or just pick up a rag and start cleaning when there’s nothing else to occupy your time.  You sleep occasionally, curling up on the floor of the hull with a blanket to avoid taking up too much space, living out of your suitcase and making a generous ten percent of his commissions just by copiloting and keeping watch over the child while he works.  With the strict schedule he keeps, your pay is always handsome and consistent, even if it is all a bit boring.

Watching him wrestle his bounties into carbonite is admittedly the most exciting part for you, the rest of your days filled with nothing but the interior of the vessel as it either travels through hyperspace or sits stationary on a planet.  He always returns to you bruised and dirty, manhandling and shoving his bounties up the ramp and into the carbonite chamber one by one, not bothering with the fuel needed to collect payment until at least three or four have been retrieved.

You try not to constantly replay the incredibly vivid memory of one of them snarling something sexually obscene at you once and how quickly the bounty hunter whipped his fist out and broke his nose before freezing him.

“Isn’t… isn’t he still conscious in there?”  You remember asking, studying the disgustingly crooked angle of the man’s shattered silver nose, to which the Mandalorian shortly replied, “Yes,” before clambering into the cockpit and taking off.

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The Art She Loved Masterlist

Series Rating: Mature

Chapter One

Chapter Two 

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten 

Chapter Eleven