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#frenchie the boys
nobitchs-world · 2 months
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If you’re gonna make a smut fic please specify which sexual acts that will be in it I don’t want to be surprised attacked by a nigga getting his butt fingered
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ex0rin · 3 months
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The Boys S03E01: Payback + BONUS:
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hermywolf · 2 years
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the boys + textposts 31/? some of these are @jaskierx​‘s ideas!!<3
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nininikki · 5 months
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guys can i say something
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halbarryislife · 2 years
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lol thanos who?
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bvtchcr · 3 months
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THE BOYS 1x03
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amazingmaeve · 8 months
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THE BOYS — 1.07 | "The Self-Preservation Society"
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victorian-nymph · 1 year
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I like making these bad tweets a lot
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staarboyyy · 7 months
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People will talk
frenchie x reader | no pronouns
18+ characters / scenarios - minors dni
tags / warnings ; weed smoking, alcohol references, fluff, intoxication, cozy fic, oneshot
summary ; late night meetings between you, frenchie and a joint
word count ; 1.1k
a/n ; a reworked soft frenchie fic thats been collecting dust in my docs - a mini gift for @starfalling00 :)
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       “Is Butcher always - Like that?”
     “If you mean “like that” as in insufferable, then yes.” 
     Frenchie tossed you a loose smile, eyebrows raising briefly before nodding towards the space on the sofa beside him. Nights like these had grown over the passing months, tension rising within the stuffy walls of Frenchie’s safe house, and sleep ridding itself of those who had needed it most. Frenchie typically found himself lounging on the sofa, a lit joint perched between his lips, eyebrows furrowed as he focused on the television - And somehow you were always the one to find him like this at night. The meetings were quiet, occasionally consisting of small banter and passing the last of the joint between you both, before one decided to head off to bed. It was simpler than dealing with Butcher or trying for small talk with Hughie.
     The clock read 3:42 A.M. Restlessness shackled itself on your bones in the night, seeming to puppet you into pacing back and forth or attempting to sleep to no avail - Surely the sun had risen, and yet every time you peered behind the curtain, night still seemed to stretch on. The soft noise of the television is was roused you to get out of the lumpy mattress, wrapping a jacket over your shoulders before treading quietly to the main area. The smell of weed veiled the air, the television bright and flicking needlessly through channels and a soft humming met you as you walked towards the couch, taking a seat. 
     Frenchie seemed - Exhausted. Bruised streaks of purple pillowed his half-lidded eyes, his gaze vacant and glued to the television, only moving his attention to you when the couch creaked when you sat.
     “It’s far past your bedtime, is it not?” His voice was lower during the night, the rasp of his throat letting a soft purr carry his words, smoke drifting steadily from between his lips. You can’t help but give a small smile, tugging the corners of your lips as he returned the same expression. 
     “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this. People will talk, y’know.”
     Frenchie sucked his teeth, a soft chuckle leaving him as he shook his head slightly. It was comforting to see the man so easily melt from exhaustion into a gentle expression, his eyes softening as they met yours, pulling the joint from his lips. 
     “Oh, Ma Douce, I’m sure they already do.” 
     You smile softly again at his words as he ashed the joint in the ashtray, a small hill of old filters and roaches filling the ceramic dish. Your eyebrows furrow a bit before giving a glace back to Frenchie, who took a slow inhale, shaking his head with a slight grin. 
     "Oh please. Judge me for smoking, and Butcher gets to drink more whiskey than he does water?"
     Frenchie tsked at you as he took a half empty beer bottle from the table in front of you, taking a sip qs he leaned back into the old sofa. For the first time in the agonizingly slow night, you find yourself able to relax your tense shoulders, mindlessly watching the television for a moment. It was easy to fall into a state of empty thought during tense times among the group, all of them seeming to part ways for days at a time. You subconsciously wrung your hands together, folding them in your lap as you watch on. It was one of Frenchie's soap operas, entirely in French, with no subtitles. Of course. With the raise of an eyebrow you look back to Frenchie, whom had already been looking at you. His eyes were dark in the dim lighting, his lids heavy and lips parted slightly, as if taking you in like a work of art hung on the wall. It was mindless for him, as if his eyes seemed to magnetize towards you despite your silence. You tried for another kind smile, and yet he didn't return it, still just watching as your expression shifts and changes - He seemed utterly fascinated.
     "You alright?"
     "Oui,"
His voice was unlike you've heard before - It was rare for him to speak so kindly, so genuinely. Even in moments like this, a silent company between you two; He could never find the words. Perhaps they hadn't existed yet, no word discovered by man could be used to describe you. Not when he sees you as something to be worshiped, something electric with color that the human eye could never capture for more than a moment. Just that moment, eyes locking with each other, your lips still tilted into a smile as he shifted closer to you.
     "May I ask you something?"
     "Mhm,"
You hummed the response as Frenchie leaned forward abit, hands moving to the table to fish a joint filter from a small bag. He began rolling as he spoke, plucking the paper carefully from the small carton and scooting the silver grinder closer. It gave him something to focus on, something for his hazy mind to fixate upon while his heart thrummed against his chest at a growing pace.
      "Do you trust me?"
     "Far too much, all things considered, but yes."
You attempted to keep the mood light as you watched Frenchie carefully begin to fill the paper with grinded weed like muscle memory. He hardly had to keep his eyes on it, his gaze darting from the joint up to the quiet television a few times. He did appreciate the joke at least, a crack of a smile reaching his painfully serious and tired expression as he tossed a glance over his shoulder toward you.
     "You have a quick wit - Perhaps you can assist me with something,"
Frenchie spoke before grunting abit, leaning back once more into the sofa with a freshly rolled joint resting between his middle and forefinger. With an exhale, his head tilted back, eyes still on you as if waiting for a response to the vague comment. You raised your eyebrows slightly, giving a cock of your head, only further entertaining the French man.
     "What do you mean?"
     "We'll talk about it later, hm?"
Your eyebrows furrowed, pushing your confusion only more as he brought the joint to his lips, pulling a small box of matches from his pocket with a wry smile. Playing with your mind must have helped him cheer up; What an asshole. In the kindest way possible, of course.
     "When?"
     "You ask so many questions. I'm giving you free weed, how about a thank you, hm?"
    "Fuck off,"
    You could feel your own smile beginning to pull at the corners of your lips, hand reaching out to push his shoulder playfully. His arm was strong, your gentle shove hardly budging his frame as he quietly chuckled along beside you. Had Butcher been there, he would have already come out with twenty different complaints of you two being too loud - Yet you two sat quietly laughing, Frenchie striking a match and lighting the joint to pass it off to you. The world, Butcher, Supes, everything melted away as you exhaled a plume of grey into the dingy "living room" air.
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pythiaswine · 2 years
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r/TheBoys
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tinfairies · 5 months
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Omg I've been waiting for it! The boys era!
Could you write smth about ruining pretty obedient sub Frenchy
Thank you!
Such a Good Boy
Frenchie/Serge x GN!Reader
(Google gave me the French. Don't come for me)
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He's such a good boy, so obedient and loves to give
A master at eating cunt/sucking cock
He'll do anything you ask of him, and although he's whiney, he still does it.
Frenchy wants to do anything to please you and he's willing to ignore his own pleasure to do so.
Begs a lot, and loves to be overstimulated, especially after hours of edging.
His cock is already so sensitive, so overstimulation definitely breaks him.
Precum is dribbling down his shaft and he can't keep his hips still, he almost in tears as he begs.
"Please, mon ange. Let me cum, ça suffit!"
The way his stomach tenses and spasms as he's pushed over the edge again and again is addicting to watch
He'll be exhausted after you milk him dry, but if you ask him to please you, he'll do it no questions asked. No matter how tired or how much he hurts.
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nobitchs-world · 2 months
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Me after realizing I have to wait for new chapters of my fav fic
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maarigolds · 2 years
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Denial is a powerful thing
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hermywolf · 2 years
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the boys + textposts 24/?  
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nininikki · 5 months
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this here is a MAN. a giver. an eater. 8 inches, ample girth, #e4b4ac, can go for 10 straight rounds nonstop, curses in french between strokes, plants his feet into the floor for MAX g-spot hitting, wraps his big strong arms around you during cowgirl. did i mention that he’s an eater? cause I KNOWW he eats it come on now. until he runs out of breath, until your legs have contorted in every direction possible, until—[MIC DISCONNECTS]
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oddmediaforall · 11 months
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The tisim is winning
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