Flamingo'd: Filthy Frankx Reader

Chapter Twenty Eight TrainSane

   They last thirty minutes had consisted of sending an exchange of kooky messages between you and Frank.

   -I want to lick your insides until you weep.

   -I'll suck your dick so hard it gets a hickey

  - I'll fuck you so much you won't be able to feel it when I finger you

     - Could you keep your eyes open when I cum inside you?

      -I'd ask you the same thing

    To be honest this was more humorous then anything else. Yes had gained a half chub, but that would be expected. But maybe this humor was they thing causing your semi. You could recall several moments laughing your off at the show Sherlock and doing some casual rubbing. That would explain why you were slowly stroking yoursef. Purely for the comedic value of this.

         -How do you feel about neko's? You texted.

        -you mean like cat in the hat?

          - no, you know, like just a person with ears and a tail?

          - well it ain't defacation, but its better then nothing

          - could you imagine me with cat ears? Crawling onto the bed, pawing at your crotch...

           - oooo imagine the size of the litter box.

      You let out a chuckle as your hand picked up the pace. You began to lick your lips imagining Frank without his glasses. That face he has. His eyes half lidded, mouth gaping a little as you continue to gag on him. Those eyebrows furrowing from the pleasure you cause him. God how that might feel. Or it maybe it would feel like licking a pine cone, who knew? All you could do was focus on what the feeling of a building orgasm. It hit like a sack of dead babies when it did. You threw your head back and groaned, letting it spurt out of you. Fuck it was on your chest. No tissues oh god! Blanket? Blanket.

   So yeah your whipping yourself, literally whipping yourself off like a cheap german prostitute. Once cleamed of your tiny soildiers. You immediately received another text from Frank.

- Did u just jerk yourself off?

- Yeah, you admitted.

   You guys spent the next few hours talking about random topics. Ben 10, plastic bins, Owen Wilson, pansexuals, and somehow getting to how the letter C pissed you off.

- Like, the alphabet could function just fine without it, just use an s or a k where it is, and literally nothing would change.

- huh. Kunt. Sirkle. Kok. Yeah look it that

- and what is up with its design?! It's just an o that doesn't know how to shut the fuck up

-omfg

    But after another hour you decided it was time to shut off and go to sleep. You curled up into your favorite position, and laid there with your eyes closed.

...

Something didn't feel right.

You tried to get into another position.

Nope.

  You tried more positions, but none of them seemed to be right. You just couldn't fall asleep. Eventually exhaustion forced you to fall alseep, but you kept waking up throughout the night, forcing yourself to go back to sleep. No dreams either, which sucked a pepsi can cock. When the sun was finally back up, you looked like shit, or at least felt like it. You rolled out of bed and walked into the hallway. Frank was there looking out the window. The moon was setting, allowing the sun to take over. You stood next to him, letting out a deep sigh.

   " So... Franku... How ja-Jamaican sleep?"

" Like a dead baby," he grumbled sarcastically, he was equally if not more exhausted than you. He rested his head on your shoulder, was he trying to be cute? Or was it just you thinking that? Because he was kind of cute today. His face wasn't contorted like usual. He was actually wearing pants, impressive. Oooh was this a tank-top he was wearing. God his glasses framed his face so perfectly. You couldn't handle it, so you ruffled his already messy hair.

    " You want to get some coffee?" you asked.

    " God yes," he said,  his voice was a bit different then ususal. So you both walked to the "food stand" part of the train. It seemed no one was up yet. And you couldn't control yourself, so you went for it. Your hand dove down like a descending high altitude jet. You came closer to your target, and score. Getting a firm grip through the extremely comfy looking pants, you squeezed at his firm ass. Wait. You're not feeling anything, what the hell? Is this just air, oh god this is just air. Frank turned his head to look down at you. A very handsome eyebrow arching.

" Did you just try to grope me?" A smirk playing on his lips.

" Wh- why are you on the floor?" He asked.

" Oh you know," you said, curling up into a tighter ball," trying to keep my soul from leaving my body as fast."

     Goddamn harem pants! So unimaginably comfortable looking, but at what cost? Groping air. Thats the cost. But the added cost, much like taxes, was the deal breaker here. Maybe you could just curl up tight enough to implode on yourself and then explode, or better yet just poof from existence with a ball of smoke. Maybe you could actually pull it off. So you tightened the grip on yourself and hoped for the best.