Francesca & Luca — *Roleplay*
@frankie-luca.bsky.social
Parody/Role play account for OCs.
I don’t own any images, gifs or videos used. Not associated with any FCs.
Just me, weaving threads & getting way too invested in fictional people.
“My Beautiful Don”
#WovenByMC
#SoloSL #NSFW
#ContentWarnings
I don’t own any images, gifs or videos used. Not associated with any FCs.
Just me, weaving threads & getting way too invested in fictional people.
“My Beautiful Don”
#WovenByMC
#SoloSL #NSFW
#ContentWarnings
❤️🩹 The Third Day
Work. Recognition. Reckoning.
He finished the job, found the truth,
and left the sea to keep what it saw.
#WhenBloodCalls
#MyBeautifulDon
#FrancescaAndLuca
Work. Recognition. Reckoning.
He finished the job, found the truth,
and left the sea to keep what it saw.
#WhenBloodCalls
#MyBeautifulDon
#FrancescaAndLuca
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
He closed his eyes and leaned into her palms, the fight in him finally going quiet. She pressed her forehead to his, their breath evening out in the dark.
Tomorrow would come, and they’d meet it together.
❤️🩹✔️
Tomorrow would come, and they’d meet it together.
❤️🩹✔️
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
He closed his eyes and leaned into her palms, the fight in him finally going quiet. She pressed her forehead to his, their breath evening out in the dark.
Tomorrow would come, and they’d meet it together.
❤️🩹✔️
Tomorrow would come, and they’d meet it together.
❤️🩹✔️
She held his face between her hands, voice steady but warm. “And I don’t regret one second of it, Luca. Not this, not us. In this life, something will always happen. But I’d still choose you through all of it.”
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
She held his face between her hands, voice steady but warm. “And I don’t regret one second of it, Luca. Not this, not us. In this life, something will always happen. But I’d still choose you through all of it.”
He flinched, a shudder that came from someplace he didn’t show anyone. “You shouldn’t need protecting.”
“I’m not made of glass,” she said, softer now. “I’ve been hurt worse long before you, and I’m still here. You didn’t break me—you found me.”
“I’m not made of glass,” she said, softer now. “I’ve been hurt worse long before you, and I’m still here. You didn’t break me—you found me.”
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
He flinched, a shudder that came from someplace he didn’t show anyone. “You shouldn’t need protecting.”
“I’m not made of glass,” she said, softer now. “I’ve been hurt worse long before you, and I’m still here. You didn’t break me—you found me.”
“I’m not made of glass,” she said, softer now. “I’ve been hurt worse long before you, and I’m still here. You didn’t break me—you found me.”
His eyes were hot, furious with grief. “I should have stayed away. I should have—”
“You protected us,” she said, steady as a metronome. “You brought her home. You stood beside me when I could barely stand. And tonight, you ended what he started. That’s who you are.”
“You protected us,” she said, steady as a metronome. “You brought her home. You stood beside me when I could barely stand. And tonight, you ended what he started. That’s who you are.”
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
His eyes were hot, furious with grief. “I should have stayed away. I should have—”
“You protected us,” she said, steady as a metronome. “You brought her home. You stood beside me when I could barely stand. And tonight, you ended what he started. That’s who you are.”
“You protected us,” she said, steady as a metronome. “You brought her home. You stood beside me when I could barely stand. And tonight, you ended what he started. That’s who you are.”
He would not have touched Aria. This is mine—it’s all my fault—”
“Stop.” Frankie stepped in close, both hands on his face now, firm enough to anchor him. “He made his choices. He hurt me because he is what he is. He went after Aria because he is what he is. Not because of you.”
“Stop.” Frankie stepped in close, both hands on his face now, firm enough to anchor him. “He made his choices. He hurt me because he is what he is. He went after Aria because he is what he is. Not because of you.”
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
He would not have touched Aria. This is mine—it’s all my fault—”
“Stop.” Frankie stepped in close, both hands on his face now, firm enough to anchor him. “He made his choices. He hurt me because he is what he is. He went after Aria because he is what he is. Not because of you.”
“Stop.” Frankie stepped in close, both hands on his face now, firm enough to anchor him. “He made his choices. He hurt me because he is what he is. He went after Aria because he is what he is. Not because of you.”
Wind moved through the trees like a long exhale. He stared out over the dark water, and the control he’d been holding cracked. “If you had never met me—” The words broke. He swallowed hard and pushed them out anyway. “If you had never met me, he would not have seen you.
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
Wind moved through the trees like a long exhale. He stared out over the dark water, and the control he’d been holding cracked. “If you had never met me—” The words broke. He swallowed hard and pushed them out anyway. “If you had never met me, he would not have seen you.
“I invited him for a drink.” His voice was even now, emptier. “We walked to the water. I let him talk. He liked to hear himself.” A hollow laugh that wasn’t a laugh. “I confronted him.”
Frankie’s fingers closed around his hand—warm, present, alive. “And then?”
“Then it was finished.”
Frankie’s fingers closed around his hand—warm, present, alive. “And then?”
“Then it was finished.”
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
“I invited him for a drink.” His voice was even now, emptier. “We walked to the water. I let him talk. He liked to hear himself.” A hollow laugh that wasn’t a laugh. “I confronted him.”
Frankie’s fingers closed around his hand—warm, present, alive. “And then?”
“Then it was finished.”
Frankie’s fingers closed around his hand—warm, present, alive. “And then?”
“Then it was finished.”
“What happened?” she asked, soft.
He tried for a steady breath and failed. “It was him.” The words came like chips off stone. “On set. He—he said something. A version of it. I knew.”
Her jaw tightened; she reached for his wrist. “Luca.”
He tried for a steady breath and failed. “It was him.” The words came like chips off stone. “On set. He—he said something. A version of it. I knew.”
Her jaw tightened; she reached for his wrist. “Luca.”
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
“What happened?” she asked, soft.
He tried for a steady breath and failed. “It was him.” The words came like chips off stone. “On set. He—he said something. A version of it. I knew.”
Her jaw tightened; she reached for his wrist. “Luca.”
He tried for a steady breath and failed. “It was him.” The words came like chips off stone. “On set. He—he said something. A version of it. I knew.”
Her jaw tightened; she reached for his wrist. “Luca.”
“Buonanotte Nonna.”
She patted his hand once, a benediction, and left him to the quiet.
He went out to the terrace with the lemon trees. Frankie stood there in the blue-dark, as if the night had set her aside for him. When she turned, whatever she saw in his face took the air out of her.
She patted his hand once, a benediction, and left him to the quiet.
He went out to the terrace with the lemon trees. Frankie stood there in the blue-dark, as if the night had set her aside for him. When she turned, whatever she saw in his face took the air out of her.
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
“Buonanotte Nonna.”
She patted his hand once, a benediction, and left him to the quiet.
He went out to the terrace with the lemon trees. Frankie stood there in the blue-dark, as if the night had set her aside for him. When she turned, whatever she saw in his face took the air out of her.
She patted his hand once, a benediction, and left him to the quiet.
He went out to the terrace with the lemon trees. Frankie stood there in the blue-dark, as if the night had set her aside for him. When she turned, whatever she saw in his face took the air out of her.
When Luca returned to the villa that night, the scent of the sea still clung to him. Nonna looked up from her tea, eyes sharp and knowing. She studied his face for a long second, then stood. She didn’t ask. She simply nodded once and said, “Alcuni mali non meritano la legge. Buonanotte figlio mio.”
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
When Luca returned to the villa that night, the scent of the sea still clung to him. Nonna looked up from her tea, eyes sharp and knowing. She studied his face for a long second, then stood. She didn’t ask. She simply nodded once and said, “Alcuni mali non meritano la legge. Buonanotte figlio mio.”
They walked in silence down to the edge of the rocks, the sound of the sea rising to meet them.
What happened next needed no witnesses. The waves swallowed the noise, the tide carried it away.
What happened next needed no witnesses. The waves swallowed the noise, the tide carried it away.
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
They walked in silence down to the edge of the rocks, the sound of the sea rising to meet them.
What happened next needed no witnesses. The waves swallowed the noise, the tide carried it away.
What happened next needed no witnesses. The waves swallowed the noise, the tide carried it away.
Luca leaned forward, his voice barely more than breath. “I can’t.”
He stood, dropped a few bills on the counter, and nodded toward the door. “Let’s take a walk.”
Luigi hesitated, but followed. Outside, the air was cool and salted, the streetlights flickering against the water.
He stood, dropped a few bills on the counter, and nodded toward the door. “Let’s take a walk.”
Luigi hesitated, but followed. Outside, the air was cool and salted, the streetlights flickering against the water.
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
Luca leaned forward, his voice barely more than breath. “I can’t.”
He stood, dropped a few bills on the counter, and nodded toward the door. “Let’s take a walk.”
Luigi hesitated, but followed. Outside, the air was cool and salted, the streetlights flickering against the water.
He stood, dropped a few bills on the counter, and nodded toward the door. “Let’s take a walk.”
Luigi hesitated, but followed. Outside, the air was cool and salted, the streetlights flickering against the water.
The silence stretched. The hum of the bar dimmed behind them. Luigi’s smile faltered as he realized Luca wasn’t joking. The mask slipped; fear edged into his eyes.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, setting the glass down. “You should forget you ever heard it.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, setting the glass down. “You should forget you ever heard it.”
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
The silence stretched. The hum of the bar dimmed behind them. Luigi’s smile faltered as he realized Luca wasn’t joking. The mask slipped; fear edged into his eyes.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, setting the glass down. “You should forget you ever heard it.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, setting the glass down. “You should forget you ever heard it.”
Luigi froze mid-sip. “What line?”
“Once it happens, they can never look at them the same.” The words landed soft, precise. “You’ve said it before.”
A pause, then a small laugh that died too quickly. “It’s just something people say.”
“No,” Luca said. “It isn’t.”
“Once it happens, they can never look at them the same.” The words landed soft, precise. “You’ve said it before.”
A pause, then a small laugh that died too quickly. “It’s just something people say.”
“No,” Luca said. “It isn’t.”
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
Luigi froze mid-sip. “What line?”
“Once it happens, they can never look at them the same.” The words landed soft, precise. “You’ve said it before.”
A pause, then a small laugh that died too quickly. “It’s just something people say.”
“No,” Luca said. “It isn’t.”
“Once it happens, they can never look at them the same.” The words landed soft, precise. “You’ve said it before.”
A pause, then a small laugh that died too quickly. “It’s just something people say.”
“No,” Luca said. “It isn’t.”
He was good at that; always had been. It gave Luca time to watch the man’s hands, his posture, the easy arrogance that came from believing he was untouchable.
When Luigi lifted his glass, Luca said quietly, “Tell me something. That line you used today—where’d you hear it?”
When Luigi lifted his glass, Luca said quietly, “Tell me something. That line you used today—where’d you hear it?”
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
He was good at that; always had been. It gave Luca time to watch the man’s hands, his posture, the easy arrogance that came from believing he was untouchable.
When Luigi lifted his glass, Luca said quietly, “Tell me something. That line you used today—where’d you hear it?”
When Luigi lifted his glass, Luca said quietly, “Tell me something. That line you used today—where’d you hear it?”
Luigi grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”
The bar was half-empty by the time they arrived, the last of the sunset staining the sea outside the windows. A few locals lingered over their drinks, music low and old. Luca let Luigi talk—about the shoot, about Milan, about himself.
The bar was half-empty by the time they arrived, the last of the sunset staining the sea outside the windows. A few locals lingered over their drinks, music low and old. Luca let Luigi talk—about the shoot, about Milan, about himself.
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
Luigi grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”
The bar was half-empty by the time they arrived, the last of the sunset staining the sea outside the windows. A few locals lingered over their drinks, music low and old. Luca let Luigi talk—about the shoot, about Milan, about himself.
The bar was half-empty by the time they arrived, the last of the sunset staining the sea outside the windows. A few locals lingered over their drinks, music low and old. Luca let Luigi talk—about the shoot, about Milan, about himself.
He only looked at Luigi’s reflection in the mirror—posture loose, still smiling at his own joke.
Luca adjusted his jacket, expression neutral. When the photographer called for a break, he crossed to the wardrobe rack as if checking something and said mildly, “Drink after work?”
Luca adjusted his jacket, expression neutral. When the photographer called for a break, he crossed to the wardrobe rack as if checking something and said mildly, “Drink after work?”
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
He only looked at Luigi’s reflection in the mirror—posture loose, still smiling at his own joke.
Luca adjusted his jacket, expression neutral. When the photographer called for a break, he crossed to the wardrobe rack as if checking something and said mildly, “Drink after work?”
Luca adjusted his jacket, expression neutral. When the photographer called for a break, he crossed to the wardrobe rack as if checking something and said mildly, “Drink after work?”
Luca didn’t catch what the makeup artist said in response, only Luigi’s reply—lower, almost conversational:
“Once it happens, they can never look at them the same.”
The words froze Luca mid-stride. His pulse slowed; every sound in the room seemed to stretch thin. He didn’t turn. He didn’t speak.
“Once it happens, they can never look at them the same.”
The words froze Luca mid-stride. His pulse slowed; every sound in the room seemed to stretch thin. He didn’t turn. He didn’t speak.
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
Luca didn’t catch what the makeup artist said in response, only Luigi’s reply—lower, almost conversational:
“Once it happens, they can never look at them the same.”
The words froze Luca mid-stride. His pulse slowed; every sound in the room seemed to stretch thin. He didn’t turn. He didn’t speak.
“Once it happens, they can never look at them the same.”
The words froze Luca mid-stride. His pulse slowed; every sound in the room seemed to stretch thin. He didn’t turn. He didn’t speak.
Luca turned back to the set. Focus. Finish. Go home.
Between takes, he heard it—Luigi’s voice drifting from the row of mirrors.
“Some men, they put women on pedestals. Makes it easy to knock them off.”
The tone was smug, careless, followed by a short, mean laugh.
Between takes, he heard it—Luigi’s voice drifting from the row of mirrors.
“Some men, they put women on pedestals. Makes it easy to knock them off.”
The tone was smug, careless, followed by a short, mean laugh.
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
Luca turned back to the set. Focus. Finish. Go home.
Between takes, he heard it—Luigi’s voice drifting from the row of mirrors.
“Some men, they put women on pedestals. Makes it easy to knock them off.”
The tone was smug, careless, followed by a short, mean laugh.
Between takes, he heard it—Luigi’s voice drifting from the row of mirrors.
“Some men, they put women on pedestals. Makes it easy to knock them off.”
The tone was smug, careless, followed by a short, mean laugh.
They’d shared campaigns before; Luigi had always been too eager, too handsy with stylists, but harmless in that narcissistic way models could be. Today something about him itched at the edge of Luca’s awareness. He was talking to the makeup artist, his laughter sharp, leaning too close.
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
They’d shared campaigns before; Luigi had always been too eager, too handsy with stylists, but harmless in that narcissistic way models could be. Today something about him itched at the edge of Luca’s awareness. He was talking to the makeup artist, his laughter sharp, leaning too close.
Frankie’s description of her attacker flickered in the back of his mind: taller than her, clean-shaven, left-handed, a faint accent that wasn’t Milanese.
He looked for those details the way a soldier scans a crowd. Nothing stood out until he noticed Luigi.
He looked for those details the way a soldier scans a crowd. Nothing stood out until he noticed Luigi.
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
Frankie’s description of her attacker flickered in the back of his mind: taller than her, clean-shaven, left-handed, a faint accent that wasn’t Milanese.
He looked for those details the way a soldier scans a crowd. Nothing stood out until he noticed Luigi.
He looked for those details the way a soldier scans a crowd. Nothing stood out until he noticed Luigi.
Assistants rushed with clips and fabric while the photographer barked instructions in English and Italian.
Luca slipped into the rhythm easily; it was muscle memory now. Stand, turn, hold the look. Between frames he watched the others—men he’d worked beside for years.
Luca slipped into the rhythm easily; it was muscle memory now. Stand, turn, hold the look. Between frames he watched the others—men he’d worked beside for years.
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
Assistants rushed with clips and fabric while the photographer barked instructions in English and Italian.
Luca slipped into the rhythm easily; it was muscle memory now. Stand, turn, hold the look. Between frames he watched the others—men he’d worked beside for years.
Luca slipped into the rhythm easily; it was muscle memory now. Stand, turn, hold the look. Between frames he watched the others—men he’d worked beside for years.
The palazzo they’d rented for the shoot was all echo and light—faded frescoes overhead, white floors polished to a hush. Sunlight poured through the tall arched windows, diffused by white drapes that billowed in the breeze. Voices overlapped in three languages; fans stirred the heat.
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
The palazzo they’d rented for the shoot was all echo and light—faded frescoes overhead, white floors polished to a hush. Sunlight poured through the tall arched windows, diffused by white drapes that billowed in the breeze. Voices overlapped in three languages; fans stirred the heat.
…his cheek. “We’ll keep dinner warm,” she said, half-smiling. He tipped his head toward her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, a promise silent between them.
From the balcony rail, Aria called, “Try not to look too handsome. It’s embarrassing.”
“Noted,” he said, deadpan. “I’ll do my worst.”
From the balcony rail, Aria called, “Try not to look too handsome. It’s embarrassing.”
“Noted,” he said, deadpan. “I’ll do my worst.”
November 12, 2025 at 11:29 PM
…his cheek. “We’ll keep dinner warm,” she said, half-smiling. He tipped his head toward her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, a promise silent between them.
From the balcony rail, Aria called, “Try not to look too handsome. It’s embarrassing.”
“Noted,” he said, deadpan. “I’ll do my worst.”
From the balcony rail, Aria called, “Try not to look too handsome. It’s embarrassing.”
“Noted,” he said, deadpan. “I’ll do my worst.”