Classic rock one shots and imagines [requests closed]

Frank Sinatra

I know, I know, Frank Sinatra isn't classic rock, but I'm gonna be honest with you guys, he's been getting me through these past few weeks like no one else has. And when I say weeks, I mean the Stevie Nicks one shot was inspired by this mess.
This idea came to me one night and it didn't feel right to put any one else in his place (and I may have gotten a little carried away- whoops). So, Frank it is. I hope you guys enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~

The slow, soothing rythm of his heartbeat hitched with mine. Their in-sync thrumming lulled my soft breaths into a steady cycle of in and out. As I traced over his slightly toned chest with the tip of my middle finger, I felt his lips gently press a kiss into my hair.

It was late, perhaps midnight, yet the street below was noisy and as bustling as though it were broad daylight. That's how New York City was. You always had to make sure your watch was working, other wise it could be twelve-thirty in the morning or twelve-thirty at night and you'd never know the difference.

I, however, was the complete opposite of the city: quiet and somber. Whether for reasons unknown or reasons I knew too well and chose to forget, the past few days had been nothing but an inner hell. Only Frank's delicate touch could suffice the ache in my heart for comfort and serenity.

Alone together in his small apartment above the city was the only place I truly found this in, though. And this is where we found ourselves this night.

I rested my head on his shoulder right where it met the crook of his neck, and his cheek rested on the top of my head. Our limbs were tangled into each other's, making us nearly as close as humanly possible to each other. And as he breathed out, I could breathe in his cool scent. This is what I wanted to last forever, not the sadness that lengthened my hours.

I stared aimlessly into the dark. Wherever the faint city lights couldn't pour in through the window is where I looked. Ever so slightly being raised by the movement of Frank's chest as he breathed.

His fingertips slowly tricked down my spine, meeting little resistance except when his gentle touch came in contact with the smallest amount of friction from my skin. He did this as unconsciously as I did tracing circles on his chest.

I was perfectly content with this, but the way Frank took a deep breath in gave away his inner thoughts. I stopped my fingers' mindless circling and craned my neck up to look at him. He flicked his line of sight to me, studying me for a moment before taking a tight hold on me.

Cradling me close to his chest, he sat both of us up. I sat on my knees straddling his lap and steadied myself on his shoulders with the back of my forearms. He gave me a cheeky grin, his piercing blue eyes shined through the darkness and into my soul.

"What is it?" I asked, returning the smirk.

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

I felt my smirk fall and my heartbeat go out of sync with his. He chuckled, but it sounded nervous.

"So what is it?" He sighed, rubbing his thumbs into my hips. "You haven't been yourself this week."

I scoffed, "myself... I don't even know her..."

"Sure you do, doll." He leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss to my jaw just below my earlobe.

I sighed and dropped my head to rest my forehead on his shoulder. I didn't want to talk about how I felt mainly because I didn't know why I felt the way I did. If I did know what was wrong, I would tell him. I would tell him that, but it may have been more for my own sanity.

"I don't wanna talk about it..."

Frank said nothing. He didn't need to. I didn't want him to.

His lips found the same spot he had kissed moments before, and lingered there. He pulled them away after a few seconds, then hastily latched them on to my neck again. He didn't spend more than a second on one kiss before he'd move to the next, each just as hungry and passionate as the last.

I shivered and sighed, tilting my head back as he trailed kissed down my collarbone and into the dip at the base of my neck. A throaty hum escaped his lips that resonated through my chest, to which I responded by scraping my nails through his hair.

He slowly ceased his actions and looked into my eyes. There was hardly a sliver of his blue irises from his lust-blown pupils, and it was too dark to search for any sign of them. But even through the dark I knew his face too well. I knew he had a smug smirk tainting his lips, and they always tasted sweeter like that. I knew his wandering hands wouldn't stop unless I asked him to, but I rarely did. The only thing I could never see in his face was his knowledge of my feelings. And that scared me.

"Why'd you stop?" I mewled, connecting our foreheads and pushing closer to him.

"'Cause I want you to talk to me, baby."

"Kiss, please." I ignored him, puckering my lips and leaning to him.

"(Y/N)," he mumbled against my mouth, but allowed our lips to fold together. His tongue instinctively slipped into my mouth for a sweeter, stronger sip. The smallest moan escaped from me, which, in turn, triggered a longing whimper from his throat. My knees weakened at that sound, and Frank took notice of it. He smirked against my mouth, knowing he was doing something right.

I was almost never the one to have such an attack in a kiss. But I was so eager to shut him up that the thought of a calm kiss never crossed my mind.

"(Y/N)," he mumbled again, this time successfully separating our lips. He hesitated a moment, looking down to my chest before saying, "Let's make a deal."

"Frank," I pushed away, threatening to get up but felt his hands lock my hips firmly against his.

What part of I don't wanna talk about it did he not understand? My problems were mine and mine alone. He had enough to deal with without my troublesome emotions. Even if I did tell him something, the conversation wouldn't last long. He couldn't keep his hands off me for that long.

"Tell me what's bothering you and I'll leave you alone. No, wait, tell me what's bothering you or I'll leave you alone."

My breath caught in my throat and I pulled him by the neck closer to me. I didn't realise I had done it until his low, baritone chuckling rumbled through my chest like thunder.

"You bastard." I let out a shakey breath, but I didn't loosen my hold on him, fearing that he really would slip away.

"Hmm, you love me..." he hummed, planting an opened mouthed kiss on the underside of my jaw.

My eyes rolled back in my head as I closed them, "of course..."

I thought about what to tell him and how to tell him. His lips planting soft kisses on my skin distracted me to no end. But if I wasn't quite sure what was wrong with me, how would I know what to tell him?

I wanted to start small as to not scare myself. Maybe if I started talking then it would just come out without me realizing it. Then again, what if it didn't and I just talked in circles?

"You don't even have to say all of it. Just some of it'll-"

"Frank," I breathed.

"Yes, Angel Eyes, what is it?"

A small smile pulled at the corners of my mouth as he cupped my face in one hand. I nuzzled into his palm, continuing to think about what to say.

What was I going to say?

I talked slowly, trying to put together a sentence as I spoke. "Do you... remember... what I told you the first time you stayed the night at my apartment?"

Frank didn't waste a second before he answered, "Why are you naked in my bed."

"No," I laughed, shaking my head. "Well, yes, but no."

I started to tell him what I wanted to say, but quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"Yes, I remember quite well, actually. I think the look on your face when I told you why was priceless."

I pressed my fingers to his lips to silence him. His eyes caught the smallest glint of light from outside, and the reflection shimmered like shattering sparks of a firework cascading across the sky. Without looking away from me, he gently peeled my fingers away and pressed a sensitive kiss to the centre of my palm.

"I told you I was scared." I whispered after a few moments. "That I didn't know what I was trying to do or how to do it... Where I came from, where I was going... That you would leave me just as fast as you took me..."

"I would never do that."

"But I didn't know that," I ran my nails through the hair on the nape of his neck. "I still don't know that..."

I turned away, looking to the dark corner of the room I stared into earlier.

"(Y/N)," his voice was soft, alluring, barely audible, but it got my attention. "Do you remember what I said to you when we first met?"

I thought back to the year or so prior to this night, to a particularly warm September evening in the middle of Yonkers. I had been in New York no more than a month, but the weight of the world and my terrible decisions nearly crushed me. I didn't let it show, though.

I was staying at the house of a friend and we were getting ready to go out for the night. I sat on her front porch painting my nails when a skinny Italian guy walked up her front steps to me.

"What about me, I could use a manicure too." I quoted with a shaky voice.

"Yeah," he chuckled, pecking his lips on the tip of my nose. "And?"

I leaned forward, touching my forehead to his as I said, "You told me I was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen."

Frank nodded, and I inhaled deeply through my nose.

"You also said I was the only doll you'd ever seen use black nail varnish."

He hummed in agreement, lovingly pressing his thumbs into my hips again.

"I wasn't just talking about your looks, y'know." He admitted. He brought a hand up to my cheek and pushed a lock of my hair out of my face.

"Then what was it?" I breathed, drinking in as much of him as I could.

"The way you held yourself." He answered, spreading his hand across the middle of my back. "It was your confidence, and strength. You didn't give a damn about what anyone thought about you."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"You don't have to believe it if you don't want to, doll. But I believe every bit of it, always have, always will."

My throat started to clench up and I bit my lip to try to suppress the small grin forming.

"You're the one with the loudest mouth," he kissed me. "The sexiest authority," he kissed me again. "And the highest heels in the room."

Before he could kiss me for a third time, I stopped him with my hand. He looked at me with puppy eyes, and I felt him kiss my hand. I smiled at him as he pulled away.

"Did you really mean all that?" I asked.

"Of course I did." He grinned and asked, "you want more?"

"No-"

"You love stealing my cigarettes out of my mouth to take a drag even though you hate smoking, you love kissing the back of my neck, you hiccup when you drink champagne-"

"Frank,"

"You get sassy when you're angry, quiet when you're upset, you get real sweet when you're comfortable-"

"Stop," I couldn't help but giggle like a child to try drowning out his voice.

"And you get embarrassed when we talk about about intimacy." His eyes rolled back in his head and he released a lustful groan. "Oh, God, your nails in my hair drive me absolutely fucking crazy, you know that? I bet I could moan as loud as you if you hit the right spot."

"Hey!"

"There's so many things you do that are just perfect. Kiss," he stole my lips for a second and continued. "Please! Dance, breathe, speak-"

"Frank-"

"Oh, don't even get me started on your amazing blow-"

"Okay! Okay!" I jerked my hand up and clamped it over his mouth. "I get it."

I chuckled quietly and watched as he pulled my hand down again. I watched the sparkle in his eye glisten while he searched for his next few words. And I'll be honest, they weren't what I was expecting.

"You don't cry often..." he said quietly. "Hardly at all... It's strangely beautiful, but I hate to see you cry..."

I didn't respond. I flicked my eyes over his shadowed face for a moment before gently brushing my lips against his.

"It's the little things that I wish you could see, just so you can believe and know your strength." He whispered. "'Cause she's not an act like you think she is. She's you."

I nodded, pushing closer to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him close. My tongue darted out to wet my lips as I nuzzled against him.

He released low hum when I ran my fingers through the hair on the back of his head, and I quickly stopped. My cheeks warmed at the memory of his rather theatrical confession of love for the action, and Frank chuckled at me.

"I probably should have kept that one to myself, huh?"

I giggled and shook my head.

"Hmm, kiss please." He leaned forward.

"Forever..." I replied, slotting our lips together.

The bold and intense yearning in the attack of his kiss was one of my favourite things about him. It was always as if it was our last kiss and he was to be ripped away from me at any second. But he never was. It only ever heightened the passion and fire between us.

He slid a hand down my side and steadied my movements by holding the ribs just under my breast. He took in a sharp breath and parted our lips.

"You make it difficult to get some sleep, you know that." He huffed. I brought my fingers to his face and feathered them across his heart shaped mouth. "Especially how I sleep."

"Who said anything about sleeping?" I asked.

The faint light on his face gave way to one of the most mischievous smirks I think I had ever seen- and I loved it. Without wasting a second more, he took a hold on me and flipped us over so that my back was now on the mattress. I gave a startled yet joyful shriek, then started laughing.

"You're wild!"

"Mmm, actually, I'd say I'm more a man of passions." He replied, hooking a hand on the underside of my knee.

"Now that's an understatement." I said, my giggles subsiding when he kissed me once again.

~~~~~~~

This was so different from the other stuff I've written that it did take a few days to write and, honestly, when I was reading it over, I felt like I was intruding on their privacy.

Hopefully I'll get back into writing again soon, and I promise it'll be back to rock stars.