#I straight up cried a bit earlier when I was thinking about it

[stupidlittlespirit]

I was struck this morning by such an intense wave of nostalgia for that period where GF was airing, when it finished and when the journal came out, and how all the Ford fans just had this little cave of solace that we all shared. Everyone loved him so passionately and everyone enjoyed interacting with each other and sharing stuff.

It genuinely kept me alive at the time when my life was skirting so close to the themes of the show and I really miss it. I know, I know, I sound like an old boomer (I am) but it really is such a special, fond memory.

[submattsmxmmy]

hiiii it's @ariestrxsh ! this is my backup account !

🤍 content warning: 🤍 smut, stepsibling kink, masturbation, getting caught, praise, light nipple play, handjob, oral (m!receiving), sub!stepbro!matt, dom!stepsis!reader

🤍 author's note: 🤍 if you don't fw the whole stepsibling kink thing, then don't read! if it's not for you, then it's not for you, but don't ruin everyone else's fun!! enjoy!

🤍 summary: 🤍 you're home from college for the holidays, and you find your stepbrother, matt, doing something naughty with your panties.

sit / stay

Matt tried his best to stay quiet, biting down on his lip to suppress a moan while he laid completely naked on his bed with your panties in one hand and his hard dick in the other.

It was a white silk thong with flowers embroidered on the front. You'd dropped them earlier after running your laundry and carrying the basket back to your room, and Matt had even tried to call after you to let you know you'd left an item of clothing behind.

Too bad you'd had your headphones in, and when he picked them up off the tile and realized what they were, he couldn't help but think what a lucky day this was for him. He'd stuffed them in his pocket and scurried off to his room.

He knew you were off-limits. After all, you were his older stepsister, only by a year but still. And you were only in town for a few weeks for the holidays before you had to go back off to college to start the new semester.

But the forbidden nature of it all made you all the more enticing.

He took the strap of your thong and slowly wrapped it around his shaft while he brushed the soft, silky fabric against his swollen tip, eliciting a bit of clear fluid from his slit. He ran his thumb over his sensitive head through the delicate material of your panties, causing his hungry cock to twitch. He threw his head back and let a soft whimper pass through his pretty, pink lips.

He kept imagining how sexy you must look in them as he started stroking his length with his other hand. His movements became faster and more urgent, and his whimpers got away from him until they were filling the room along with the soft fap fap fap as he pleasured himself.

Suddenly, his bedroom door flew open, and you were standing in the entrance, wide-eyed and shocked. "Oh my god, Matt! Are you getting off with my underwear?!" You shrieked, slamming the door shut behind you. He was embarrassed, but he couldn't stop. He was getting so close. He kept stroking his cock, chasing that sweet release he so desperately craved, but you snatched the thong out of his hand before he could finish.

"What the fuck? Did you steal these from me?" You questioned him, holding them up and looking at the wet spot he'd gotten on them and glaring in his direction. "I'm sorry. You dropped them," Matt cried out, looking at you like a puppy dog who had just been scolded.

Your eyes traveled to his rock hard cock. You admired the way it stood straight up and the way his engorged mushroom-shaped tip stared you down. Your first reaction was anger, but the longer you studied him, the more you took pity on him. His face was red with shame, and hot tears of humiliation started streaming down his cheeks.

"Awh, baby. Don't cry," you said, sitting next to him on the bed, kissing him on the forehead and wiping away his tears. "I'm sorry I got mad. I'm just.. surprised," you whispered, caressing his face.

You caught yourself stealing glances at his cock before he grabbed a pillow to hide it. "Please don't tell anybody," he begged between his sniffles. "I won't. As long as you won't tell anyone about what I'm about to do," You seductively responded, your hands wandering towards the pillow and slowly pushing it out of the way. Matt stared at you in disbelief. "W-what are you gonna do?" He stammered.

"Depends on what you'll let me do," you bit your lip as your eyes flicked up to meet his. You placed your fingers on his chest in a flirty manner, and he watched them slowly slither down his stomach towards his lap. "You can do anything you want," Matt lustfully responded, all the blood returning to his tip again as he realized what you were alluding to.

"How were these when I walked in? Like this?" You cooed, taking your panties and wrapping them around his cock again, teasing him with the fabric as it brushed against his tender head. With his bottom lip caught between his perfectly white teeth, he timidly nodded at you.

"And your hands. They were like this?" You whispered, taking both of your hands and placing them around his girth. "Yes, just like that," Matt softly whimpered as you started stroking him. He had this needy look in his eyes as he gazed into yours.

"I think we need to get it a little more wet, don't you think?" You suggested, leaning over his hard dick and letting a stream of drool fall from your mouth and onto his tip. He watched in awe with his jaw dropped as you did this.

"There we go," you said in a soft, luscious voice while your hands slipped around more easily on Matt's rod. "Oh," Matt softly moaned as you swiveled your wrists in opposite directions. He bit down on his knuckle to keep his noises to a minimum.

"Oh, you like that, baby, don't you?" You asked Matt in an alluring tone. "Yes," he quietly whimpered. "Good boy," you cooed. The way you spoke to him while your hands explored his special place had him gripping his sheets and curling his toes. A wetness pooled between your thighs at his reaction to your touch.

"You know what would make this even more fun?" You asked, dying to make his body respond to you even more. Matt perked up, ready to hear your recommendation. You temporarily took your hands off his throbbing member, hooking your fingers into the hem of your shirt.

You took it off and playfully threw it at Matt while he ogled your breasts on display in your solid black bra. "I bet you're dying to see them," you said in a suggestive voice, placing your hands on your tits, gently squeezing them, and pushing them together. "Yes, please," he begged, staring at them and licking his lips.

You reached around to unhook your bra. Then you slowly pulled down the straps like you were giving a striptease and let it fall onto the bed in front of you. Matt sharply inhaled as he took in the wonderful sight of your beautifully shaped breasts and your hardening nipples.

"Please. I wanna touch 'em," Matt timidly replied, reaching out in front of him. "Only because you've been such a good boy," you seductively smirked up at your stepbrother. This comment went straight to his cock, causing it to twitch.

You moved closer to him, took both of Matt's hands and placed them on top of your soft breasts. He looked at you like a deer in the headlights, but his eyes soon traveled back down to your chest. He squished the soft flesh between his fingers while he licked his lips.

As he continued fondling your tits, you wrapped your hand around his cock again and squeezed it. You started twisting your wrist as you stroked it up and down, creating a wonderful sensation for the sweet boy beneath you.

You stared down at his tip that was drooling with pre-cum while he gently ran his thumbs over your stiff nipples, eliciting a soft whimper from you. "Did that feel good?" Matt curiously asked, brushing his fingertips over them again. You whined again. "Yes, Matt. I love when you do that," you whispered, speeding up your strokes.

"Oh, you're so good at that," Matt complimented you, enjoying every touch of your hand. He looked at you with a glazed over expression as a few seductive moans poured from his lips. His grip on your breasts tightened a bit, and you could tell he was getting close by the desperation in his gorgeous, blue eyes and his needy voice.

"You know what else would be fun?" You nibbled on your lip. "What?" Matt asked in a breathy tone, releasing your breasts from his grip. What could possibly be more fun than this, he wondered to himself.

"Wouldn't it be fun if there was no mess for us to clean up when you finish?" You cooed, unraveling your underwear from his shaft and slingshotting them at him. "H-how are you gonna do that?" Matt wondered in a shy voice, catching your panties and running his fingers along the soft material.

You maneuvered yourself between Matt's legs, kneeling in front of him on the bed, and closing the distance between your mouth and his needy cock. "Like this," you grinned at him before you wrapped your lips around his tip.

"Oh," Matt softly moaned as his head fell back and his eyes fell shut at the feeling of you graciously swirling your tongue in circles on his swollen head. You gently sucked on it and moaned against his sensitive nerve endings, causing a wonderful sensation.

His hand wandered to the back of your head, and he gently pushed down on it, encouraging you to take more of it. Your lips slid down his shaft, your tongue grazing all his veins and sending waves of pleasure through his body.

"So good," Matt desperately whined underneath you, savoring the feeling of your soft, velvety mouth. You peered up at him, your eyes meeting his while you worked your magic on him. His moans became louder and more sensual as his cock started throbbing against your lips.

You slowed your movements just enough to draw out the satisfaction he was feeling. You moaned against his member once more, sending vibrations through his tip and causing him to whimper some more while he gripped your hair tightly. "Yes. Please don't stop. Gonna cum," the words passed through his lips like warm honey, his voice textured with a smooth and soft quality.

His dick began to twitch in your mouth, depositing his heavenly substance onto your tongue while he furrowed his brow and looked desperately into your eyes as you swallowed his seed. He let out one more loud whimper as you finished him off, sucking down every last drop like you were starving for it.

"Wow," he whispered, looking down at you in a daze with a satisfied smile on his face. You pulled his cock out from behind your lips, making a loud pop, and you deviously grinned up at him as you wiped the saliva from your mouth. "See? No mess," you smirked at him, climbing to your feet and beginning to put your bra and top back on.

"You're so.. talented," Matt replied, trying to find the most respectful word to describe how he felt about the head you'd just given him. "Next time you want a pair of my underwear, just ask, and I'll give you a whole lot more than that," you winked at him before blowing him a kiss and giving him a little wave.

You slipped out of his room, leaving your panties behind and silently giving him permission to keep them as a souvenir.

[girlgenius1111]

study buddy

solstråle engen ft. @wileys-russo 's fresa! sol struggles with school, and facing the threat of having to repeat the year, ingrid and mapi try to get her some study help. it doesn't go... exceptionally well.

—

It was more frustrating than anything. For years, you hadn’t really given school much thought, or put in very much effort. And then, suddenly, you’d been shipped off to Spain and everything was different. Everything changed again six months later, and suddenly, school felt like something that held a lot more weight.

You didn’t have many opportunities to make Ingrid and Mapi proud of you. Sure, they’d say they were proud of you when you asked for help while having a panic attack, or for setting some sort of boundary. That just didn’t feel… right. It didn’t feel like it was enough. They were bending over backwards, every day, to make you feel known and seen and loved, and the least you could do was show that they were helping you, right?

So, very suddenly, school was important. Grades were important. It seemed, though, that the years of not caring and not paying attention had taken their toll. Because you studied, and you actually tried but it wasn’t enough. Your grades were still… mediocre. Nothing to brag about. 

You worked harder, to no avail. You tried different methods of studying, you devoted hours and hours to your schoolwork, and… no improvement. So much of your work felt like it went way over your head. 

You had promised yourself you wouldn’t be upset when you handed Ingrid the test you’d gotten back. She had a busy week and she really didn’t need you breaking down over a stupid test, like you had earlier in the school bathroom. Your plan was to bypass your sister and her girlfriend, head straight to your room, and maybe slam the door. If you acted angry, they were more likely to give you space to calm down, which meant there was much less of a chance you’d get all pathetic and upset.  

Only, you’d forgotten that Ingrid had known you were getting the test back today, having seen you study and study and study for it. Your sister was sure that since you studied so much, it must be a good grade, and she had a magnet all ready to attach your exam to the fridge. 

The minute you walked into the house and saw her waiting in the kitchen, freshly showered from training, an expectant and excited look on her face, you shrunk in on yourself, very suddenly wanting a hug more than you wanted to cry silently into your pillow all alone.

“How’d you do?!” Ingrid asked excitedly, her smile only faltering when your lip began to wobble. “Solstråle?”

“I’m sorry.” You choked out tugging the collar of your shirt up over your eyes before she could see you begin to cry. Ingrid’s arms were wrapping around you only a moment later, holding you tight against her as she floundered, confused as to what had upset you.

“Hey, it’s okay. Whatever happened, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” Ingrid promised, making eye contact over your head with Mapi, who had wandered into the kitchen and caught sight of you trembling against your sister. 

Ingrid thought something must have happened at school, and Mapi quickly came to the same conclusion. The thought that you’d done poorly on your test, and this was the reason behind your distress, never even crossed her mind. Ingrid had never known you to care much about your grades, and while you were trying harder now, she didn’t think something like a bad result could get you this upset. 

“I’m really sorry. I tried my best.” You whimpered, briefly wondering when you’d turned into this person who cried at the drop of a hat and allowed her sister to hug you whenever you were upset. It was so different. Everything was so different. 

“What are you sorry for?” She asked, heart melting a bit as Mapi walked closer and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before perching on the counter. “Tell me, Sol, tell me what’s wrong.” 

Wordlessly, you withdrew from the comforting embrace of your sister and swung your bag off your shoulder. You unzipped it, pulling out the exam from the red folder Ingrid had neatly labeled for you. You handed it to her, eyes brimming with tears again at the sight of all the red marks all over the first page. 

Ingrid’s first instinct was to sigh, but you’d been with her long enough for her to know you’d just shut down. Not to mention that she knew how much work you’d been putting into this specific exam. Prepared to ask you what had gone wrong, she looked up to see that the tears had stopped. There wasn’t a hint of emotion on your face, like you were preparing yourself to be yelled at. Ingrid had no such plans.

“Oh, Sol. Kjære, come here.” She said instead, pulling you back into her. There was some hesitation on your part, but after a second you melted into the hug, knowing that if Ingrid was upset, she would have told you so by now. “You studied so hard, I’m sorry it didn’t go well.” 

“I’m sorry.” You said again, frowning when Ingrid pulled back and placed both her hands on your face, tilting your head up to look at her. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You tried your best, that’s all I want from you.”

You shook your head, but didn’t say anything, instead opting to stare at your shoes. You hadn’t taken them off at the door, breaking one of Ingrid and Mapi’s rules. This additional mistake, regardless of how small it was, made you feel even worse. You couldn’t do anything right. 

A tattooed hand grabbed yours, and you looked up at Mapi. She had moved closer, holding the exam in one hand, her other gripping yours. 

“This is a passing grade, mi sol. Why are you so upset? It’s not like you to get so worked up over school.” Your face flushed, but before you could step away, Mapi’s grip tightened, as if she’d sensed you were about to run. “Come on, it’s us. You can tell us.” 

“I.. It’s not good enough.” You stammered, looking between your sister and her girlfriend with genuine despair written all across your face. “I wanted to do well. For both of you., I wanted you to be proud of me.” 

“Oh, Sol,” Ingrid sighed, exchanging a look with Mapi that only served to make you feel even more foolish. It had taken so much for you to admit why you were working so hard, and though you knew, logically, that Ingrid wasn’t trying to make you feel dumb, she had. 

You wrenched away from her, suddenly deciding that you didn't need her pity. Backing up until you hit the wall on the opposite side of the kitchen, you began to ramble. Unable to look either Ingrid or Mapi in the eye, you missed the sadness on their faces. “No, forget it. It’s fine. It’s really fine. It’s not a big deal, It’s my own fault, I’m too stupid to learn stuff my classmates already know-”

“Hey!” Mapi cut in, sounding uncharacteristically stern. “You are not stupid. Don’t ever say that again.” 

You froze, staring at her with your mouth agape. Ingrid took a cautious step closer, aware she was toeing a thin line between you breaking down again, and pushing you into anger. 

“You aren’t stupid.” Ingrid echoed. “You’re not stupid, and you know you aren’t. It’s just one exam, Sol, it doesn’t make or break anything.” 

At this, you averted your eyes, a blush creeping up your neck. This exam could be a determining factor in your educational career. Ingrid just didn’t really know that information yet. Like a bloodhound, though, Ingrid caught the scent of your secret, her eyebrows raising as she stared at you. 

“It doesn’t make or break anything, right?” 

It was a staring contest for a few moments, one you and Ingrid both knew she would win, yet you kept it going all the same. The silence became too intense, the gazes of your sister and her girlfriend breaking your resolve rather quickly. With a heavy sigh, you reached for your bag yet again and pulled out a slightly wrinkled envelope. 

Ingrid held her hand out expectantly, apprehension clear on her face. You handed her the envelope, eyes still training on the floor. 

“Solstråle. This is addressed to me.” Ingrid huffed, removing the letter from inside and beginning to read it. Mapi moved forward, peeking over her girlfriend’s shoulder, eyes quickly scanning over the letter. You braced yourself, prepared for the worst. 

The last time you’d brought home something like this… you’d ended up living in Spain. Which was potentially the best thing that could have happened, but you had a feeling the consequences of this letter wouldn’t work out as well. 

Your sister placed the paper down on the counter, raking her fingers through her hair as she thought for a moment. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. Part of her wanted to yell, but when was that ever the right choice? Before she could decide, María’s shoulder bumped into hers. Her girlfriend nodded in your direction, clearly trying to get Ingrid to see how terrified you were. 

And Ingrid couldn’t yell at you when you were like this, all sad and scared with your head bowed and your arms folded across your chest protectively. 

“Sol?” She said, her tone much quieter and kinder than you were expecting it to be. You looked up at her, shocked further to see that she didn’t look very angry. “Why didn’t you give this to me last week when they sent it?” 

Ingrid nodded towards the date on the letter, and you exhaled shakily. “I… I was hoping I could just try really hard for the rest of the year and do really well in all my classes and it would be fine.” 

Your sister nodded slowly, reading the letter over again. 

Mapi took the opportunity to chime in, her hand absentmindedly resting on your sister’s back, even as she fixed her warm gaze on you. “Nena, that is a lot for you to carry all by yourself. Having the threat of maybe needing to repeat the year hanging over your head… you should have told us.” 

You shrugged, blinking away the moisture pooling in your eyes at Mapi’s tone. “I didn’t want to disappoint you guys.” You mumbled. 

“You haven’t disappointed anyone!” Mapi exclaimed, frowning when you just scoffed in response. “I’m serious, Sol. We saw you study and study for this exam. You did your best, you’re doing your best. That’s all we can ask from you.” 

“My best isn’t good enough! I’m going to fail and have to repeat the year.” You cried, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation. The mere thought of another year of school was horrifying. 

Ingrid finally put the letter down, a blazingly determined expression on her face. “No. You’re not going to fail anything. We’ll help you, we’ll reach out to your teachers, we’ll get you extra help. We’ll figure it out, Sol, but you’re not going to fail. Not if I have anything to say about it.” 

For anyone else, that may have sounded overbearing. For you, though, it just felt supportive. It felt like you weren’t dealing with this yourself anymore, and that was a relief you didn’t know you needed. 

“Okay.” You said quietly. “Thanks.” 

Luckily, your sister knew you well enough to understand that after such an intense conversation, you’d need some time to yourself to process. 

“Hey,” Ingrid said, catching your wrist and turning you around slightly before you could leave the room. “I’m already proud of you, and the person you are. You could fail every test for the rest of your life, and I’d still be proud of you. Okay?”

You blinked at her for a prolonged second, before you nodded jerkily. Turning to head up the stairs to your room, you changed your mind, spinning back around and falling into your sister. She hugged you tight, as she always did, and you wondered briefly how you got so lucky. 

—

It was the following day that Mapi and Ingrid proposed their plan. Before they’d even said anything, you knew a few things. 

One, that they were excited about whatever plan they’d cooked up that day at training. 

And two, that you weren’t really going to have a choice in the matter. 

As a general rule, Ingrid and Mapi didn’t make you do many things. If they thought something was important, they’d encourage you to try it a few times, and then they’d let you stop if you still didn’t like it. That was how it had been for the school’s climbing club, the school’s hiking club, and the school’s baking club. All those were activities you enjoyed, but… activities you enjoyed doing yourself.

Well, not always.You loved to climb and hike with Ingrid. Frido, too, sometimes. And you could bake for hours with Mapi helping, measuring out ingredients and getting baking flour everywhere. But doing any of the above with strangers who spoke in rapid, fluent Spanish or catalan, was not fun. It was anxiety inducing. 

You knew this was about to be another one of those ideas, the ones you had to give a fair shot. 

It was at dinner, and you were trying to hide the wince everytime you picked up your water glass with your right hand, your wrist intensely aching after the time you spent in the climbing gym after school. It always hurt when you climbed for too long, though it was getting worse with every passing day. Another problem for another day, you decided, seeing the barely contained glee on Mapi’s face as she cleared her throat. 

“What?” You said suspiciously, putting your fork down and narrowing your eyes at the Spaniard. 

Mapi opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Ingrid chimed in. 

“Mapi’s made you a playdate!” She said, smirking when her girlfriend wacked her in the arm. 

“Ingrid, that is not going to help me convince her.” Mapi huffed, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. 

Still unamused, you continued to frown at Mapi. “I’d love it if you didn’t keep proposing ideas that you’d need to convince me of. Teaching you how to rock climb, trying to get that stain out of my favorite sweatshirt yourself, being the keeper while you practiced your free kicks, helping you build that bonfire–”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mapi dismissed. 

“You got stuck on the rock wall, my sweatshirt has a hole in it, the ball hit me so hard in the stomach I threw up, and both of us lost part of our eyebrows!” 

Mapi glared at you, while Ingrid hid her face behind her hand as her body shook with silent laughter. 

“Well this plan,” Mapi sighed, “is Ingrid AND Alexia approved.” 

That wiped the smile off your face. 

“Alexia? What does she have to do with this?” 

There were a few things you knew for certain about Mapi. One, she didn’t give up easily. Another, that she wanted more than anything for you to be friends with Alexia’s little sister. And from the sly smile on her face, you were almost sure you knew where this was headed. 

“I asked her to ask Fresa to tutor you!”

“No.” You said immediately. 

Mapi continued like you hadn’t spoken. “Fresa is a bit younger than you, but already finished your year! She’s studying to be a nurse, she’s very smart. Fres speaks English and she can help you with your Spanish and any other school things you need help with.” 

“No.” You repeated, looking helplessly at your sister. Ingrid looked to finally be taking the situation seriously, a familiar look on her face; one you knew meant that no matter how much you argued, she was going to get her way. Meanwhile, Mapi was still droning on. 

“–get along great with her! I think you guys have a lot in common, and it could be fun and educational!” 

“And you know all the best things are fun and educational.” Ingrid chimed in cheerily, this time her face telling you to go along with Mapi’s idea because she was excited about it, or else. 

“Educational.” You said sarcastically. “Super!” 

Still, you agreed, Mapi grinned at you, and Ingrid patted your back reassuringly. Mapi had a lot of bad ideas. You were pretty sure this would turn out to be the worst. 

—

You always spent more time at the climbing gym when things were rough. Back in Norway, you’d spend multiple hours a day, everyday, there. It was one of your tells; Ingrid always knew something was bothering you if you went to climb right after school. It was your way of shoving your emotions down before you could feel them, before your sister could read the hurt on your face and give you one of those tight hugs that brought tears to your eyes. 

Only, sometimes climbing didn’t do it. Sometimes, it felt like the walls were closing in, like you were about to suffocate, if you didn’t have some time completely by yourself to think. On those days, you really preferred to hike. You hadn’t felt that urge in a while; the urge to just disappear for hours, walk until your legs felt like they were going to fall up, and sit at the top of the trail until the world felt like a place you wanted to be in again. The last time had been back in Norway, after a day you didn’t even want to think about. 

Yet you found yourself in that same familiar mindset after your first study session with Fresa. 

It hadn’t gone well. You tried to go into it confident, sure that if you acted chill enough, she’d maybe miss that you had no idea what you were doing with your schoolwork. 

Confident, even as you arrived 15 minutes late. Scout had gotten his favorite toy, a small tiger that squeaked, stuck under the sofa, and it had taken you time you didn’t have to get it out for him. You could have left it, but Ingrid and Mapi weren’t home and you knew Scout would just sit by the couch and cry the whole time you were gone if you didn’t get his tiger out for him, and you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him to be so upset. And then you’d had a hard time finding a parking space at the library, and the directions inside were all in Spanish and Fresa had texted you to follow the signs to the study rooms but you misread the sign and went to the opposite end of the library before figuring out your mistake. And you would have texted you were going to be late, because you hated being late, but your phone was dead and the cord from your car had gone missing. 

When you entered the room, Fresa already looked annoyed. 

Annoyed, with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, twirling a pen repeatedly in an almost unconscious manner. She looked very… put together. 

“Llegas tarde.” She commented, rolling her eyes when you didn’t reply. Your face flushed a bit as she must have picked up on your confusion, repeating herself in english. “You are late.” 

Any other time, you would have known what she said. Your issue wasn’t really understanding Spanish, it was more speaking and reading it. You felt weirdly flustered though today, like your brain was distracted and not quite able to follow what the other girl was saying. Anxious, too, at this social situation you’d been forced into. 

Briefly, you thought about explaining about Scout and the tiger and the parking space and the signs being in Spanish, but then you realized Fresa wouldn’t care about any of that. So instead, you just nodded and apologized, feeling your heart start to pound from the anxiety of the situation. 

You didn’t like talking to new people. Especially pretty new people who spoke a different language and were looking at you like you weren’t very smart. Even if you thought that yourself… you didn’t want anyone else to think so. Any intention of actually asking Fresa for help with the mountains of stuff you were confused with went out the window, then, and you almost subconsciously decided to just… try to get through without letting her know quite how lost you were. 

Fresa was alarmingly smart. She kept asking you questions about your work, about what you needed help with. Everything didn’t feel like an answer you wanted to give. Fresa seemed organized, though, and you assumed letting her take the lead and decide what to work on would placate her. Instead, she just looked more and more annoyed with every passing second.

 She kept asking questions about this paper and that paper and you didn’t know what papers she was talking about. You felt so stupid. More stupid than when you’d failed your test last week. 

“How do you even find the right paper in there?” Fresa asked, pulling a judgemental look as you rifled through your bag, searching for the article she was asking for.

Your bag was a mess, you knew it was a mess. You’d knocked your coffee over all your folders a few days ago, sitting at the counter when Scout barked and startled you. That was oddly upsetting in and of itself because Ingrid had gotten you the folders and labeled them for you and you felt like you’d destroyed something nice she’d done for you. You hadn’t told her, not wanting to hurt her feelings or anything, so now your school papers were living crinkled and disorganized in your bag.

And you were pretty sure the article Fresa was asking for had been a casualty of the coffee incident, because you’d scanned the paper and thought it wasn’t important before throwing it out. The Spanish had confused you, and you hadn’t realized you’d need the article for an assignment. Stupid. 

 You were feeling more and more embarrassed as the minutes passed. And, maybe, your reaction to feeling embarrassed was always anger. You pulled out a random piece of paper, slamming it down onto the table with more force than necessary in your haste to give the Spaniard something. 

Fresa instantly knew that what you’d given her wasn’t the right article, asking again if you had it as you shoved the other paper back into your bag. 

Logically, you knew you should just… admit you threw it away because you didn’t realize you needed it. For some reason, you just couldn’t get the words out of your mouth. You couldn’t get any words out of your mouth, feeling shockingly like crying. Nothing was going right and you were making yourself look like an idiot and all you could do was shrug as Fresa looked at you and took a deep breath. 

Then, she seemed to come to some kind of realization, her expression softening slightly. 

“Can you not read this? The spanish?” 

You flinched, feeling your face flush. Again, the reply of ‘no I can’t, would you please help me?’ seemed to evade you. Instead, you spewed some lie about being able to read the article, calling Fresa’s questions stupid and telling her she was wasting your time. 

Fresa seemed to have reached her breaking point, her voice rising as yours had. You didn’t really hear what she said, much too distracted by the way her eyebrows knitted together when she was frustrated, and the way her hand tightly gripped the pen she was holding. 

Then, she made an offensive impression of your shrugging. And if you hadn’t been angry before, you were absolutely fuming now. 

So what if you were quiet? It wasn’t like you really needed to talk much, considering how many questions she’d asked. You were furious at being called out for all your bullshit, feeling like a mess compared to the perfect girl next to you. A very angry mess who’d had a long day and was cursing one María León for making her do this and cursing the beautiful girl next to her for being so infuriating.  

“Alexia’s super little sister. Everyone says you are so smart. Can you not see I do not want your help? You want to be a doctor, no? So go find someone who does.” 

Fresa’s nostrils flared as she shoved her chair away from the table and got to her feet. She began angrily putting her stuff into her bag, and you remained completely still, unable to stop this whole meeting from going up in flames. 

“Eres un maldita idiota!” Fresa snapped, her face red with anger. 

There wasn’t really anything worse she could have said to you at that moment. 

“Snobbete kjerring.” You threw back, feeling a sharp spike of satisfaction when she zipped her bag angrily, completely incapable of understanding what you’d called her. 

“You know, I did this as a favor, tonta. I have worked all day, I came right here after my shift, on time. I have my own studies to do because yes, I want to be a nurse. I am smart, and I know what I want to do with my life. Maybe if you get your head out of your own ass, Engen, you might too! And you are right, this is a waste of time. My time!”

Fresa stomped out of the room, then, and you waited until she was out of sight before dropping your head into your hands with a deep sigh. 

That couldn’t have gone… any worse. And though it was probably all mostly your fault, you couldn’t help the resentment building for the intelligent, stuck up girl that had thrown insult after insult at you, hitting you in all the places it hurt. You packed your own stuff up once you were sure you wouldn’t run into Fresa again in the parking lot or something, shuffling dejectedly to your car.

The overthinking had begun. Was it really overthinking, you wondered, if you’d actually completely fucked up and the reasons for your anxiety were entirely reasonable? You weren’t sure, and you supposed it didn’t matter, your thoughts quickly spiraling as you rewinded the short meeting in your head. 

The shrugging had really gotten to her, but you weren’t sure what else to do. When in doubt, you had learned silence got you the best results. Often, no one really cared what you had to say anyway. Fresa was different, though, looking at you with her wide eyes, expecting an answer. It was intimidating. It scared you, honestly, how well the other girl seemed to see right through you. 

And maybe… maybe there were some other feelings brewing. Ones you didn’t want to consider. Feeling that didn’t even matter given the way Fresa had stormed out. It didn’t seem like there would be another study session.

This led you to your other problem. You’d fucked this up. Something your sister and Mapi had gone out of their way to set up for you, because they didn’t want you to have to repeat the year. 

You didn’t like to make mistakes. Every single one you made carried the risk that Ingrid would lose her patience with you, and give up. She hadn’t yet, and you’d messed up a fair amount in the past several months, but you couldn’t let yourself believe that no mistake could push her away. That just wasn’t a possibility. So, rather than face your failure, tell Ingrid and Mapi how awkward and weird you’d been, you ran. 

Or walked, you supposed. Your study session with Fresa had ended at 4:00, and it was almost 8 when you found yourself at the top of your favorite trail, legs scratched and aching, as the sun slipped below the horizon. Your phone was still dead and now Ingrid was absolutely going to kill you for going off the grid. 

You broke traffic laws on the way home, any peace you’d found at the top of the hiking trail entirely gone as anxiety began to build up inside of you again. 

Stepping into the house, you slipped off your muddy shoes, wincing at the blood trickling down the few cuts on your legs. Before you could even set your car keys down, though, footsteps were pounding down the hallway towards you. 

“Oh, thank god.” Ingrid gasped, sounding alarmingly emotional as she rushed forward and crushed you into a hug. “She’s here!” 

“Dios  mio.” Mapi muttered, appearing over your sister’s shoulder a moment later. Ingrid pulled away from you, her hands on your shoulders keeping you at arm's length. Her face quickly transformed from relieved to furious. 

“Where the hell have you been?” She hissed. 

“I–”

“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You were supposed to be home hours ago, Sol. Your location wouldn’t show up on my phone, Fresa even said you ended your meeting early,” Ingrid ranted, though you began to tune her out at the sound of her name. 

“You talked to Fresa?” You interrupted, ignoring the incredulous look on Ingrid’s face, turning your attention towards Mapi who was staring stonily at you. 

“That doesn’t fucking matter right now. Where were you? Are you drunk? High? Were you fighting?” Ingrid demanded.

Each accusation felt like a bullet to the heart as Ingrid grabbed your chin and yanked it towards her, looking intently at your eyes. You shoved her away angrily; Ingrid wasn’t supposed to see you as that person anymore. She had promised that she didn’t, that she knew you weren’t a bad kid, that you had just been having a hard time. Now, though. She was looking at you like she didn’t trust a word that was about to come out of your mouth. 

“No.” You spat at her, grabbing your phone from your pocket and slamming it on the front hall table. “I went on a hike after I met Fresa and my phone died. I lost track of time. I wasn’t getting drunk or high and I wasn’t fighting anybody, but thanks for having some faith in me.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm, and even though you expected Ingrid to soften with a bit of guilt, she only seemed emboldened with anger. 

“Don’t you dare turn this around on me. You were supposed to be back four hours ago Solstråle. Four! This was so irresponsible. Do you not care that we were worried? Do you not care that we were here waiting for you? That Mapi made dinner, and you were going to work on her bike? Or that we were supposed to make cookies? After everything we’ve done for you, Solstråle, I expect more.” She was shouting at this point, pacing back and forth in front of you. 

You looked to Mapi, hoping for her to step in and talk her girlfriend down, but she looked almost as mad as Ingrid was, and you shrunk in on yourself.

“You are…. you are grounded. This is unacceptable, and you better never let it happen again. That is not how family behaves Solstråle. Did you think about how worried we would be? I am so upset with you, so disappointed that you didn’t think about anyone but yourself, that you were so selfish–”

“Alright, Ingrid. Enough.” Mapi cut in finally, stepping forward to grab her girlfriend's hand and squeeze it. You were frozen in front of your sister, fighting the sob that was building in your throat. 

Ingrid stepped back, her face still red with anger. A hint of regret flickered across her face at the sight of your lip trembling and the tears in your eyes. Still, you looked confused, and Ingrid couldn’t shove her anger down at your lack of understanding. She turned, stomping off towards the kitchen, leaving you and Mapi behind. 

“Sol-”

“I’m going to shower. Sorry, Mapi. I’m sorry.” You mumbled, pushing past her and heading up the stairs before the Spaniard could get out another word.  

Mapi sighed tiredly, rubbing her hand over her face. Her Engens were going to make her go grey. 

—

You had only just pulled some pajamas on after your shower when Mapi knocked, her gentle voice calling to you from the hall. 

“Yeah?” You called back, voice gravelly from all the sobbing you had done in the shower. 

Mapi entered, the first aid kit in her hands and a much calmer expression on her face. She was in her pajamas, too, clearly having been waiting up for you to get out of the shower. It had been a long one. Another thing to be sorry for, keeping Mapi awake. 

“Can I help with your legs?” She wondered, gesturing to the many cuts that littered them.

Shrugging noncommittally, you sunk down onto the edge of the bed, Mapi soon taking a seat opposite you. She pulled your calf up to rest across her lap, getting out the antiseptic spray and a few bandages. You purposefully looked away, barely having been able to get the blood off in the shower without getting light headed. 

“Are you okay, mi sol?” Mapi murmured, fanning her hands over the cuts so the spray would dry faster. Mapi had a way of looking at you, eyes crinkled with concern and kindness, that made you want to burst into tears. You fought that instinct. 

“I am fine.” 

Mapi sighed, unwrapping a few of the bandages and beginning to carefully put them on you. 

“Then someone else was crying in the shower while you were in there?” 

No reply came, and Mapi sighed again, tapping your leg to tell you she was done with that one. 

“Look, I know Ingrid was harsh, but you have to understand how worried she was. How worried we both were. I know you still remember the things you wrote in that letter all those months ago. Things like that don’t just go away, Sol, and when you disappear for hours without a word, we worry.” 

This time, Mapi got a shrug in reply, and a small sniffle. She finished up with your other leg, gently pushing it off her lap and pulling you into a soft hug. “It’s okay, Solstråle. Everything is fine now.” 

You scoffed through your tears. “Nothing is fine, Mapi. I screwed up with Fresa, I screwed up with Ingrid. They both probably hate me. Please, just go. I’m tired.” 

Mapi shook her head. “You’re upset, I just want to–”

“No Mapi, just leave me be.” You tried to sound firm, but your voice was shaking almost as much as your hands were, and you were sure you just came off as pathetic. 

“Alright, nena. I love you, hmm? Don’t be too hard on yourself.” 

You remained silent, flopping back onto your bed as Mapi walked out of the room. Scout hopped up on the bed in her absence, licking your cheek twice before curling into your side. 

It wasn’t being too hard on yourself; the self hatred you felt in that moment was completely justified. You were very sure of that. 

—

You were tucked into bed when the door creaked open again, Scout not even bothering to lift his head from where it was tucked into the comforter draped over your leg. You blinked your eyes open and they widened in surprise at the sight of Ingrid walking into the room, hair messy as though she’d been tossing and turning. She neared the edge of your bed, leaning down and kissing your forehead gently. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I don’t hate you, okay? I love you very much. Everything is going to be okay, so just try to get some rest.” 

You nodded weakly, impatiently pushing a tear off your cheek with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, Ingrid. Really sorry.” 

“It’s alright. You’re safe, yes? And that’s all that really matters.” Ingrid promised, and you nodded, sniffling pathetically. “We can talk more tomorrow, but just go to sleep, okay? Everything is fine.” 

“Love you.” You mumbled, Ingrid smiling softly down at her. You didn’t often say that first, something Ingrid attributed to having said it to your Mamma and not heard it back so many times. 

“I love you.” Ingrid replied, patting your cheek twice before tucking the covers up tighter around you, and heading out of the room. 

—

You woke up to a few unexpected things the next morning. One, it was almost 11 and Scout hadn’t woken you up demanding a walk. In fact, Scout was nowhere to be found. Two, the sounds of Mapi’s Spanish soap and Ingrid’s clanging around the kitchen echoed through the house. You’d forgotten they had the day off today. Ingrid must have taken Scout out to let you sleep in. 

The first two unexpected things, then, were explainable. The third… was not. 

A text from Fresa. 

Tuesday at the library. If you want to give it another shot. I think I can help. 

You thought about the way you’d behaved, and the way Fresa had spoken to you. Before you could delete the thread with her and close your phone, though, you thought about the letter you’d hidden from your sister. The excited smile on Mapi’s face when you’d agreed to let Fresa tutor you. 

Before you quite knew what you were doing, you pulled the message back up, your fingers typing away without you telling them to.

Yeah. I’d appreciate that. What time? 

There was something that drew you to Fresa, even as she infuriated you. Maybe it was how her voice had softened when she’d asked if you couldn’t read the Spanish on the paper, or maybe it was how she’d smiled unconsciously, watching Alexia score a goal the past weekend. It was a nice smile. And she had a nice voice. 

None of it really made any sense to you, but you’d already sent the text. 

—

For some reason, you felt a bit awkward. There was something very odd about knowing Mapi had been upset with you, because normally that was just Ingrid. But you knew Mapi had been just as worried last night as Ingrid, and just as upset. She’d been in the garage all morning, too, and you wondered if she was avoiding you or allowing you to decide to come to her if you wanted to talk.

After the 5th time you glanced at the door to the garage, though, Ingrid rolled her eyes from where she was sitting at the other end of the couch, typing away on her computer. 

“Go talk to her. She’s not angry, I promise.” 

Ingrid wasn’t angry anymore, either. You’d spoken with her practically first thing when you’d woken up, apologizing again and again and emphasizing that you hadn’t really realized how your actions would have affected Ingrid until it was too late. 

You’d told her about a time back in Norway when you’d stayed out all night after a fight with your Mamma, and when you’d come home the next morning, she hadn’t even noticed that you’d been gone. Ingrid understood a bit more, then, and was quick to hug you tight and whisper that she forgave you.

And even though Mapi had come in last night and tried to make you feel better, you knew she might have been waiting to be upset until she knew for sure you were okay. That made you even more nervous. 

Ingrid snorted from behind you when you knocked on the door to the garage, as normally you just walked right in. You shot her a glare, stepping inside the garage at the sound of Mapi’s quiet come in. 

The defender didn’t glance up as you walked in, but you took a seat in the chair next to her. Your chair. 

It was quiet for a moment, the sounds of Mapi’s metal tool gently clanging against the bike. 

“What did Fresa say to you last night?” You blurted out, face flushing red because why was that the first thing out of your mouth. 

Mapi fixed you with a half amused look, shaking her head. “That is what you’re asking?” 

“No.” You sighed. “Are you mad at me?” 

“No.” Mapi echoed, going quiet for a moment as she thought. “Not mad. It’s just hard for me, Sol. Last night, you didn’t even think that we’d be worried about you and where you were. It just makes me a bit sad.”

“Oh.” 

“And it’s not your fault, nena. I just worry for you.” 

You nodded slowly. “I’m really sorry. I should have thought about how worried you guys would have been.”

Mapi gave you a half smile. “I know you are. And you won’t do it again sí?” 

Your head bobbed up and down rapidly as you agreed, more sure than you’d ever been that you’d not be doing something that stupid again. 

“Now. Why are you so concerned with what Fresa said to me, hmm? What did you do?"

—

[pedge-page]

Insatiable

Part 3/Finale to Cravings and Crash

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: Frankie and reader spend some time apart before realizing that’s actually really stupid—and solid communication happens for once :) 

Notes: it’s finally HERE! Thank you all so much again for your words of praise and keeping with these two absolute idiots in love. Honestly intended the first one to just be a one-off drabble throw away thought, but I’m glad everyone enjoyed it so much to ask for more! I’m spitting this out earlier than expected. Don’t know if I’ve done them reasonable justice but this is what I’ve got—hope you like it!

Warnings: unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampies, mentions of m oral, pussy eating king returns, cum eating, missionary, doggy, cowgirl, overstimulation, fingering, squirting, bit of possessive and jealous Frankie, mentions of drug use, drugs present, language

18+ ONLY

- - - - 

You had cried when you got in your car. And again when you went to your cousin’s house to crash until you signed your new lease. And then again every night for a week straight.

You had NEVER cried this hard over a boy before.

Except this wasn't some boy—this was Frankie. The guy who comforted you through all your dates that stood you up, and shitty boyfriends, albeit few, that left you feeling less than worthwhile. The same Frankie who stood around you like a guard dog when you went drinking together so no one would even think to slip something in your cup, but who YOU have to comfort during horror movies because he's a big scared kitten. Who lets you sleep on his shoulder for five hours in the car no matter how uncomfortable it was for him, never once moving, but still ate the food you didn't like off your plate "because he's a garbage dump who'd eat anything, even mold." 

The first guy to tell you that you were beautiful when you weren't even trying to impress him. Who brings a hair tie with him when you go to eat because you always forget yours and get your hair caught in your fork. Who pushed you to take charge of your life and break up with your loser first love, and it was the hardest and best decision you could have ever made.

And you know what? The ONLY guy who made you cum 9 fucking times the FIRST time he went down on you.

You called Santi that night because you needed to let loose, and the only other person you trusted to hold you up outside of Frankie was Pope.

“So how is he?” Santi asked, as you immediately double fisted your first two shots. 

"I don't wanna talk about him tonight."

Santi nods, eyes widening as you don’t even resist the bitter taste going down your throat. He holds his finger up towards the waitress to order 4 more glasses.

You really didn't want to think about Frankie. The more you thought about him, the more confused you felt, and you couldn't afford to be confused about your purpose in his life right now. You knew battling addiction isn’t a linear healing process. That it would get worse before it got better at times. You're his friend. You're helping him. That's it. 

Frankie spent a whole year being physically intimate with you, but never once asked or made a move for anything more emotionally. So why let yourself get carried away even thinking about something more?

To even consider if you wanted more...

You snatch the shot glass out of Santi's hand right before he was about to sip it and catapulted it down your throat, the burning sensation taking your mind out of the gutter.

Fuck Frankie for not keeping his shit together. Fuck him for being hot and cold. Fuck him for using you when that's exactly what you’re here for.

It's much easier to keep it all that way. Easy to encourage him with sex to avoid overthinking his intentions. Easier to constantly verbalize it, knowing he won’t deny it, as a means of reassurance to yourself. 

But absolutely fucking HELL he’s being so difficult lately. The sex—wasn’t just good. It was fucking phenomenal. you could physically see how much better he was just moments afterwards, even if you were blacking out and falling asleep not too long after. He was so hungry for it too, why deny? But he’d been holding back too much now—getting too tense, crashing, then stressed again. You needed to get things back on schedule with him so he’d be happy again.

And gentle, nurturing, innocent, sober you just wasn't doing the trick for him anymore.

You barely hear Santi over the pounding in your head: "When we was the last time you got laid? You need a distraction from your Fix-a-Fish hobby."

You gulp down the last of the vodka on the table, suppressing a slight burp.

"I'm 'bout to do both tonight."

That was 4 weeks ago. You didn’t achieve either that night.

Fish didn't seem too upset when you left, ultimately making the choice much easier. You looked so fucking stupid walking in there, basically demanding sex from him when he made it clear all year that you were only there for HIM and not the other way around. He didn’t want you like that. 

Good. Makes staying friends that much easier.

Or it did, for a little while. 

You couldn’t get over the way he made you feel when all was well—when he’d serenade you so easily in affection like Querida, Carino, Hermosa, and you could barely contain the butterflies in your stomach each time. You had never once heard him even refer to his dates or ex girlfriends in the same manner. It was both confusing and arousing. He treated you like a best friend some times, but adored you like a lover more. 

Hadn’t the man heard of friendship boundaries? Aside from the fact he made you orgasm every minute of the day, what was Frankie like as a lover? What more could he possibly do to cross that line?

Who the hell treats their friend like that?

That last month, however, felt more realistic. Grounded in the truth of your relation. You didn’t realize how much he had gotten to you with sweet words first that made the change in his attitude so unbearable. 

You wanted to go back to being selfish with his unbridled love.

You hadn’t gotten off in over a week, a new record. But as you lay in bed, conjuring any and all pornos, audio eroticas, pillows, aching fingers, even the dusty vibrator still wrapped in its new plastic, nothing was getting you to that same addictive feeling that Frankie gave you every single day.

You should have called him to return his shirt you had accidentally packed in your bag in a haste to get out of there. But it still smelled like him. You felt perverted getting wet just by holding it in your hands, but it was doing the trick, and finally you could touch yourself without additional lubricant assistance.

All the memories that tumbled from then on only made the ache between your legs worse: The first night, Frankie between your legs, begging you to let go so he could force more orgasms from your shaking body. “Doing s’good for me, cariño. Give me more, fucking starving” ; when he held you in his lap as you grind down on his bulge, his head buried under his shirt that you were wearing as his lapped at your nipples, “Don’t you dare hold back those beautiful moans, wanna hear you singing when I’m devouring you”; when he’d come home from work and didn’t say a word, just grabbed your wrist and lead you to his bedroom, lied on the bed, slapped your ass a few times to get you to straddle him higher, higher, until you were right over his lips. He didn’t even wait for your hesitation, immediately bringing your hips down and crashing his lips on your pussy, shaking his head like a mad scientist at work, hell bent on discovering what makes you cry faster.

You pulled your fingers away from your slick cunt. No amount of memory would compare to the real thing—and it wasn’t all the acts that you needed, but the intimacy, the familiarity that came from Frankie—THAT’S what always sent you over the edge.

It scared you.

Santi was half right. You did need to get laid. Needed someone who wasn’t Frankie to remind you that you don’t rely on him for some shit like getting off (although you had developed a keen preference by now). You needed a new hobby that wasn’t thinking about Frankie all the time. YOU needed a distraction.

He was half wrong, however, because you knew very well that you’d be drowning in lame date after lame lay a million times before you got over the addictive feeling of being around Fish this past year.

It never felt like a chore. Well, obviously, you were getting ate out like a Sunday brunch. But it was everything else that made you want to keep staying around, even after he maybe didn’t need you anymore.

You realized then that leaving was the best for you and him. You had somehow managed to score a  date tonight, the first one in over a year, with a James. Or Jonathan. Or Jimmy. Something J. I think.

I’m excited. I’m going on a date. I’m going to have fun. I’m excited. Im going on a date. Im going to have fun.

You didn’t even have the care to shave tonight before you begrudgingly left for dinner and a movie.

-

He couldn't say it then. Frankie remembered so vividly the image that he wishes he could forget: you standing there, so meek and vulnerable, spilling your tears as you tried to level your emotions with your feelings and confront the fucked up situation he put you in. Maybe if you had screamed, yelled at him and cussed him out for being such a dick, then he could have told you how he truly felt.

He was always better at being shouted at by others from being in the service. The guys would let their tempers soar and just shout, honesty tumbling through like a flood, and then everything would be out on the table, and shit would get DONE.

The apartment is unforgivably quiet and cold.

He's noticing little things you left behind: your nice moisturizer, expensive shampoo, a paper towel holder. He thinks you’re mocking him by leaving bits of you around his place, so he collects them in a bin and waits for you to come retrieve them. But you don't contact him for the first week.

He starts to think maybe you left those things for him. You bought all these things while you were here, forcing him to use them with you:

"Your face is as dry as a desert; you need moisturizer, not body lotion.”

"You can't use a 4 in one hair and body wash!"

"Who the fuck doesn't have a holder for their paper towels?"

It wasn't all just sex when you were here. He remembered coming in to the bathroom when your feet were soaking in the tub, and you explained you were rubbing your calluses off your feet. He joined you, sweats pulled up above his knee as you held him down to get the stone on his crusty feet, the whole time laughing and squirming because it tickled too much. He fell on his ass in the tub desperate to escape your strangely strong grip around his ankle, getting his clothes all wet.

And despite how well he had known you even before your arrangement, he continued to learn new things about you. Like you took night showers, and could only go to bed with your hair in braid. He'd come to see you, agitated in his room all morning, waiting for you to finally wake up so he could distract his craving. He’d walk into the kitchen where you were already cooking him breakfast, slip his arms around your hip, and pull your braids out lovingly to smell scent of your shampoo waft off in waves, closing his eyes and feeling his jitters dissipate, instantly calming him like no other remedy.

Found it funny that you couldn’t use a regular spoon for cereal, always replacing it with a tea spoon because the other ones are “too big” for your mouth to fully close around. A sentiment he suspected to be a load of BS when you had no problem swallowing his cock whole and then gulping down his cum without spilling a drop.

Or when you got red sauce all over the laundry and had to borrow Frankie's shirt to sleep in. He liked that you smelled like him, that it draped over you so pretty, and you'd never wear pants underneath. He'd put you in his lap and make you hold the shirt up with your teeth, showing off your perky tits. His thumb circled your hip bone, large hand clasping your waist to keep you upright while he'd kiss your nipples, and then make you both look down and watch as he rubbed his fingers through your folds, sucking the juices off as he finger fucked you over top him.

He can't help but feel his twitch of his cock stir in his pants at the thought.

Ok. Maybe the sexual parts were a big part—how could they not be? That’s all it was, at first. And he was able to pretend like it was too. But the more time he spent with you. The more time he got to really know you, live with you, breathe you in, unravel you and bind him to you so that you had no sanctuary untouched by him, it was all over before it began. 

He sat down with Pope a week after you left: 

“You look like shit.”

Frankie grumbled, shrugging it off. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten like he used to when you were around. His beard was growing in more patchy and less manicured than before.

“Have you talked to her since?”

“Don’t wanna talk about her tonight.”

Jesus, a broken record with these two, Santi thought. But he knew Fish much better, knew the exact reason why he called him out instead of all the boys together is precisely because he needed to get this off his chest. “She thought you were stressed, needed time. Clearly she was right.”

Frankie’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding so hard that he could form diamonds.

Santi cleared his throat, twirling the ice in his glass casually. “Course, I didn’t tell her you’re head over heels in love with her. Why didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t think he could again. “Imagine how that would have gone? She was crying right there. Right in front of me, BECAUSE of me, after I’d treated her like shit for weeks until her breaking point. Would have given her some fucked up idea that that was my expression of loving her. If I’d said it then, she would never have believed me. Would have ruined everything. Including our friendship.” He pauses, staring down at his rough hands. “She deserves better,” he said weakly, more to convince himself than anyone else.

Santi leans back against the booth. He’d heard the Frankie pity train before, but this was much lower than usual. “And friendship is still good enough for you?”

“I’ll take whatever she’ll give me at this point. I can’t lose her.” 

“You can’t? Or don’t want to?”

Frankie thought about that for a while. He had realized too late he didn’t actually still need you. He hadn’t really “craved” cocaine like before. He no longer needed you tending to his every reaction, overly serving his necessities and desires, always a few steps away to brighten his smile, or warm the house with your laughter, your cooking, your terrible taste in movies, all for the sake of keeping him sane and sober.

But damn it all, he still wanted you.

Frankie goes 4 weeks of the hardest withdrawal of his life. You were right, he was getting better at not thinking about cocaine. But without you here, he's more agitated than before. It's not that he craves it now, but rather craves a substitute to get him through your absence.

He's itching for his phone, for the number of his dealer he should have blocked and deleted so long ago.

He shouldn't. It would devastate you. You'd think it's your fault because you weren't here to distract him, only making the whole lie he’s been telling himself that you could still be just friends more abundantly evident. Pushing that useless tale even further, rooting it in your mind.

 In truth, it is your fault that his entire happiness is now emotionally and physically tied to you, but he can't really blame you for leaving him since he's the big idiot. He had the entire year to make it right, damned be the consequences of your possible rejection.

He’s clenching his fist at his sides, debating whether to text his dealer. He doesn't even want that shit, at least not the way before. He just wants a distraction from the real aches that you've left behind.

And if he did... wouldn't you come back to him to make it right?

You’re so clear in his mind that doesn't even struggle, doesn't hesitate as he pays the money and carries the little pouch in his hands. He gets back to his apartment with vigorous haste, slamming the door behind him, and sits it on the coffee table, staring.

Even if you don't come back to him, getting just a little bit high would help take his mind off it all. He'd be able to stop thinking about you, even for just the night. Just to get some sleep.

Just to stop feeling.

He shakily tries to undo the tightly sealed bag, but few particle traces catch in his finger tips from outside the plastic, and he instantly wafts the infinitesimal scent of it on his finger tips. He stops, feeling something he's never felt before when staring down at the thing thats caused him so much trouble in his life:

Disgust.

-

You considered calling Frankie a million times, but how soon was too soon? Would he think you were just desperate to get ate out again? Would he deny you the second you wanted to see him, thinking it was just a booty call again? You had made some stupid choices, like going on a shitty date with a guy you weren’t even interested in, just to get over Frankie, so that you could avoid thinking about how badly you had shattered your friendship.

And going right back to being his friend, which included sharing one of your reckless decisions you make on your own, was one of them. He’d be interested in hearing about it, right?

You dial him up quickly.

You rock back and forth on your heels, unable to sit still.

The phone rings out to voicemail.

He’s never missed a phone call from you. Not even at 2am on a work night. He's never on his phone, and yet still always managed to answer your calls even if it’s on the last ring.

He's just avoiding you again. It's fine. Santi said he'll get over it eventually. That you’ve done enough worrying for him, and need to take care of yourself for a change.

You glance at the key he gave back to you, and not even a moment later, are soon slipping on shoes and heading out the door with it in hand.

-

You unlock the door and slowly walk in to the familiar layout of Frankie's apartment. It's entirely dark, curtains drawn save for a small crack in the shades. You call out his name tentatively, the eeriness of the place making you anxious. When you see the bathroom light on and door slightly ajar, hearing the rushing sink water running, you sigh relief.

Thank God.

You gently push open the door. "Fish?" You see him, heart skipping a beat at how much thinner, paler he looked now than before, eyes sunk from lack of sleep.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and your heart breaks at how different he looks but STILL has the brightest, softest, loving smile at you.

Your eyes drift down, smile fading, horror quickly overtaking your face at the unopened baggie of white powder sitting at the sink. And his face drops at the realization.

You take one step back, unable to close the gape in your lips, petrified. "Fish—I—holy fuck..."

You had never seen him doing it, never seen him freshly blown high from it. The closest you ever got was what the boys would tell you, or seeing the long aftermath of his crash. They were always first on the scene and quite frankly, ensured you were never the one to find in him these states. You had never been able to mentally prepare to have to handle it now.

"No—no no no! It's not, I didn’t, I didn't! Look—ok it looks like I did but I swear I haven't touched it. It’s still sealed! I’m. I'm dumping it down the toilet."

You don't trust his word, seeing as the bag is here, albeit fully wrapped up, seal unbroken like he said. But here, nonetheless. With him. In front of you with no denial that it was his. 

He gets on his knees and wraps his arms around your waist. “Please don’t leave me. I didn’t want you to leave the first time…”

“And it’s taking you being high right now to admit that?!”

I’m not high, seriously. Check me.” You peer down closer, and aside from his rampant heart beating against your leg and big round eyes, there’s no trace of smell or lingering white powder anywhere on him. But you’re hesitant.

“I bought it but then realized It wasn’t what I really wanted…”

He licks his lips quickly, his brown eyes pleading up to you, biceps flexing against your ribcage.

Your chest is pounding, the encasing feeling of Frankie refusing to let you back away making you feel like a trapped rabbit. 

“Please believe me,” he breathes.

"Your eyes are dilated as fuck Frankie!"

"That's because of you!"

You both hold your breath, a pregnant silence ringing in the air.

“I—I’m. Um. I meant." His eyes trail off sheepishly as a warm blush takes over his face. 

He stands up, rubbing the back of his head. He can tell you’re patiently waiting for him to get over his blubbering awkwardness so he can explain properly. To find the words he’s combing his brain for. And find them he did: 

"I miss you, Querida.”

He breathes slowly, time catching up and suddenly stopping. 

You glance toward the bag, still fearful that he had gotten to this point while you were gone. “Frankie. I’m—I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. For your needs—“

“I don’t need you to fix me. I haven’t craved that shit for a while, still don’t even now. I just wanted you here with me.” He snatches the baggie and chucks it in the toilet, immediately flushing it.

You want to say that might not be great for the plumbing, but Frankie’s hands are on yours, holding them securely to his chest. “I just want you. I should have said it before you walked away.  Should’ve said it a year ago, when I knew I didn’t want to pretend this was just some—some drug replacement.” He goes quieter. “I didn’t want this to be nothing. I thought when we had sex, maybe you’d feel the same, but you didn’t—”

“I was afraid about what would happen to you If our dynamic changed, Fish. I was worried it was just another high. So I tried to make things go back to how they were since it seemed to be working so well for you before,” you rambled. He can see the shininess in your eyes, feel how your body is no longer resisting him and instead, cradling his neck with affection, empathy, nurture, all the things he’d been depraved of for weeks. “But then it made everything worse and I didn’t know what to do—“

He cut you off, as if suddenly things didn’t line up. ”Why did you come back?"

You lick your lips, eyes unable to meet his. “Well I called, and you didn't answer. And I wanted to check up on you, and tell you... um—I mean I always tell you about… I went on a date, my first one in over a year."

Frankie's eyes blankly drift lower, down to your feet, his arms retreating. He takes an awkward step back. "How... how did it go?" He asks slowly, feeling the distance between the two of you growing again.

You throw your hands up in the air, unable to express yourself. “He was…Handsome. Funny. Charming. Paid for me, made me feel pretty, treated me real good—“

He nodded, unable to bring his eyes anywhere else but back to the back on the sink as he listened. “S’good. That’s what you deserve,” he says, jaw tensing.

“Yeah. Yeah it is what I deserve.” You pause, here goes everything. “Except the whole time, I hated the fact that he was nothing like you." 

Frankie’s attention darts back to you as you cup his scruffy face in your hands. "You're irritable, and sassy, and needy and clingy, and you pout when you don't get what you want. And you don't listen to me or stop when I tell you to stop—“

A roasting fest? Now?? “OK, That's, Jesus, I get it—“

"And I love all those things about you.” You hold his gaze, feeling his breath seize in his chest. “And I miss being here. I miss waking up with you every morning, and your smug face being the last I see before I go to sleep. And it took me until after I left to realize how I actually felt about you. This whole year with you has felt like this perfect—“

"High?"

Your brows furrow shyly. “I didn’t want to put it that way, for obvious reasons. But fuck it. Yes. I don’t—I don’t wanna let that go.”

His fingers tense around your waist, almost begging you to say it, spill it out for him and don’t hold back ever again. 

“You got me addicted to you, Francisco."

You aren't aware of how fast he moves, his hands grabbing your neck as he smashes his lips to yours. Your heart is beating out of your chest when he sucks every breath from you, barely separating from your lips to utter "I've waited—so long—for you—“ He hoists you up on his waist and brushes out of the bathroom with your legs wrapped securely around him, his kiss hot and full of passion the entire time. "Wanted you since you first let me have a taste of you.” He slams you on the bed, the familiarity of you two being in this exact situation settles on you. “Wanted you to want me. Want more.”

He continues to engulf your lips with his, his moans vibrating against your tongue. "I shouldn’t—“ he hastily bites your lip with a grunt “—shouldn't have pushed you away—treated you so bad.” He pauses his assault. “I was so scared you didn't want me like that. Couldn't handle pretending I could be okay with it.”

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart matching yours. "Frankie, I want you."

"Good," he smiles, leaning up to remove his shirt over his shoulders. You whine at the sight. Draping himself over you, his lips never leave your body as he kisses down your chest then back to your lips. You’re unable to bring yourself to action as his body dictates both of your moves.

You feel his bulge pressing painfully against your core, eliciting an obscene moan from your throat. "Frankie—Let me take care—“

"No. Fuck no. I'm taking care of you tonight. And tomorrow, and every fuckin’ day after," he growls.

He kisses you once again but then slowly backs away. "Um, if... if you want that."

He feels your hand tangle in the hair behind his neck as you bring his face back to yours, teeth clashing for dominance. "I want it," you whisper, sucking his lower lip and biting it possessively.

His jaw hitches. “Prove it."

You unbutton your pants, taking his large hand and guiding it down your panties in haste. His digits make contact between your folds, the two of you sighing.

"Oh f-fuck. You want this, don't you?"

"Want you so bad, Frankie. It fucking hurts.”

His fingers dont leave your dripping cunt, spreading your slick around your swollen clit. His other rips your string underwear off with incredible strength. He then helps push your shirt over your head, and you immediately unclasp your bra. Frankie growls lowly at the sight of your perky breasts bouncing from their release. "Fuck, I missed these.” His mouth wraps around as much fat of your tit he could before biting, making you lurch. 

“I—I’m not gonna be slow—I wanted to—“

"Jesus Fish, I don’t care, just take me!"

He plunges two of his thick digits into your soaking heat, making your back arch off the bed. He takes the opportunity to suck a nipple back into his mouth, half his body hovering over you to keep your form perfectly positioned between his mouth and fingers. They teasingly thrust in and out slowly from your hole, intentionally dragging out his torture against you. "So mean to me, baby." His teeth nip at your nipple with a smug grin. "Takin’ my sweet little pussy away from me like that. I barely touched you and you're absolutely soaked. Were you wet on your way here?"

"Frankie I haven't... haven't been able to get off in weeks."

"How long?"

You moan out loud, eyes rolling back as your brain turns to mush. Your hand tries to guide his wrist faster but he slaps it away, continuing his teasing ministrations.

"Answer me!"

"Since the last time you touched me!" You cry.

He haults his movements. 

The girl who bragged about cumming an average of 6 times a day just grinding on a pillow, now telling him she hasn't been able to orgasm in a month, because of him.

Ohhhhhhh fuuuuccccckkkkkfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. “That why you went on your little date, huh?"

You nod shamefully.

"Did you fuck him?"

You whine, eyes burrowing in confusion that he still expected you have coherent thoughts while he had you in this compromising position, teetering on the brink of your much needed orgasm.

"Your date.” He repeats, his wrist slowing down entirely. “Did. You. Fuck. Him."

“No—no! I didn’t even let him kiss me goodnight. Couldn't even get wet for him, that's how bad—Frankie, fuck! please!—bad you've got me fucked up."

He speeds up his hands, satisfied with your confessions. They are thrusting perfectly in and out at record speeds as his jaw clenched around your tit, watching your eyes roll back as your first orgasm in WEEKS overwhelms you fast. You’re shaking violently, legs desperate to close but Frankie pries them open with his strong hand, continuing to dominate your cunt with his incessant fingers.

You feel something else coming as he continues to ram his wrist against you, fingers digging so deep, curling so effortlessly that you can’t stop the gush of liquid squirting out of you. “Oh shit, oh fuckfuckFUCK that’s it! That’s my girl, holy fuck yeah—yeah keep going, Cariño, so fucking good.” He continues to finger fuck you repeatedly, working you through it as your pussy continues to contract and release your spend.

You hardly have time to process your embarrassment as he's shifting below your hips, throwing your thighs over shoulder and giving your soaked pussy a longing look. Your clit twitches excitedly. Cool air is blown on it, making you fist his hair harder. He presses his large nose into you, inhaling your scent like bloodhound, growling like a man possessed at the sticky coating. "I fucking missed you, Hermosa," he groans, and his mouth latched right on to your pulsing cunt. You gasp, hands fisting his hair as he rolls your overstimulated clit with his tongue, jaw opening wide to practically swallow your pussy whole, sucking away everything you're giving him.

Whether he was talking to you or your pussy, it didn’t really matter to you. All you could process was the rough feeling of his fat tongue and scruffy face rubbing perfectly between your legs as Frankie got reacquainted with his former addiction. "FrankieFrankieFranke-ohFUCK!"

You can’t stop him, can’t even warn him as the overstimulation send you into a fit of gasps, cumming again, legs squeezing his head as painful pleasure courses through you. His upper back is littered in your scratches, the red marks raising his skin like tiger stripes.

You're struggling to catch your breath with ragged moans. He slows his licks to draw it out, letting your spasms pass. His sinful, lidded eyes have never left your face, absorbing every reaction from you, committing it to memory.

"You really have neglected this poor pussy," he teases, kissing your clit as his fingers begin to spread your glistening folds once again.

You can only nod, arms covering your face as he starts to rub the pad of his thumb on your swollen nub again. “It’s—not as good—unless it’s you.”

He grits his teeth in satisfaction. “S’okay. M’ gonna take care of you now. Gonna fuck you real soon."

You whine when he pushes his fingers back in to your tight heat.

"And then, when I’m done fucking you—We're gonna fuck again," he laughs.

You’re a bit frightened with how he’s looking at you: like he’s fucking possessed by a hungry, malicious demon.

He makes you cum on his fingers again, then his lips, then both at once. He’s pinning you down so harshly, you have no choice but to take the endless barrage of orgasms he’s forcing from you, almost as if he’s trying to make up for the time you two have been apart. 

By the time his tastebuds are content, he brings himself back up to you, messily kissing your lips so you taste yourself, his beard and stache now soaked in your cum and rubbing along your chin.

You gasp when you feel his hard cock sliding along your folds. He rolls his hips against you, your copious slick letting him glide effortlessly, tip nudging your clit.

“Frankie,” you warn, unable to handle his teasing now.

He grabs the base of his dick. “Beg. Beg me for it,” He commands with a godly voice you’d never heard him use before. He slaps the underside of his throbbing member repeatedly against your pussy with a taptaptaptap. “Tell me you want it.”

You don’t care for the fat tears spilling down your cheeks as you whine like a bitch in heat. “Fuckyou, Frankie,” you seethe, anger building with your desperation. “I fucking want it, want it so bad, want you to ruin me, please, Fish, fucking please put it in already!”

He grins, big and sadistic as he watches your face contort with the first push of his tip into your wetness. “Oh F—“ he breathes, eyes closing as your tight walls do their best to accomodate his size.

Your eyesight is blurry, waves of pleasure rolling throughout your entire body, delirious as he bottoms out. Where he belongs. Where he’s always meant to be.

He presses his forehead to you as his hips start rutting.

He’s hardly fucked you for a few seconds, but the pressure building inside of you, desperate for this moment again after months, isn’t giving you a choice to savor it. “Fish—fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK! ‘M not gonna last!"

He growls excitedly, driving his cock more harshly into you, reaching that special spot he’s decided is only his to abuse. “It’s okay, babygirl. You cum for me. You're always so good at it."

And you are, you really are. “OH FUCK FRANKIE!” You scream. Your body agreeing with him so much that your abrupt orgasm squeezes around him so hard, his movements stop altogether.

“Oh shit—“ he hisses, your pussy greedily milking the cum right out of him. He only pauses for a moment, shaking over you for a moment as his first orgasm subsides before his hips are moving of their own accord, his cum forced out with each thrust.

“Keep goin’, pretty thing. Give me more,” he grunts. 

You nod deliriously, eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he pounds your battered puussy.

He pulls out, the sudden withdrawal making you whine with emptiness. He sinks to his knees again, yanking your knees up to your chest. Your pussy twitches, his cum spilling out and sinking down your ass.

He lets out of primal groan from the back of his throat before smashing his mouth on your cunt, sucking your clit and tongue fucking your hole like a cream filled pastry. You feel the descending bob of his Adam’s apple against your rear as he swallows the mixture of your cum, drinking it like liquid life from the source. “We taste—so—fucking—good, Princesa,” he taunts, tongue lapping your little clit in quick succession before shaking his head back and forth aggressively against your mound, smearing the obscene mixture across your folds and making a mess.

Oh fuck, he’s so gone.

He quickly gets on his knees, turning you over on your stomach like you weigh nothing. His hands grip around your hips, bringing them flush against his crotch again as you arch your back for him. He puts his palm on the small of your back, keeping you right there, pressed tight against him as his cock slides back into your eager and cum coated cunt.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, setting a faster pace this time. You hadn't realized just how much Frankie was holding back the first time you had sex. He leans over your body, hands splayed past your shoulders, fisting the bed as he rails you deep, his thighs crashing against you with harsh slaps. Your temple lands against his cheek, meeting eye contact. He smiles, breath caught in his throat like running a mile at your fucked out expression. 

He continues to fuck you like an animal. A soft hand grips your chin lovingly, tilting your head further back so his lips meet yours with each punishing grind. You’re surprised by how much you love the hold he has on you, willingly submitting to him without being told. Drunk on each other’s lust.

You suck greedily around his tongue, hand reaching behind the two of you to play with his soft brown curls, refusing to let him leave your mouth. He stutters with a few more thrusts before halting, eyes scrunched closed. “AUUGHHH—haaaahh!” You feel the twitch of him inside you, draining his balls some more of his plentiful seed. 

“Fuck, fuck I love it when you cum inside me!” You confess. The action makes you fall forward, mouth burying into his pillows as you muffle your own cry of your release again.

He pulls out of you and flops to the bed. You think maybe he is done, after having cum twice now, bur Frankie is quick to bring you to straddle him, his dick never once softening as it presses incessantly to your entrance again. He licks his lips, watching his cum spill down your thighs, right to his creamy cock that refuses to fully part from you. 

“Frankie,” you moan, unsure if you can take him again.

“Want you just like this. Ride me,” he breathes. He’s covered in sweat, out of breath and shaking with a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline if it were possible. His hands gently wrap around your waist as he guides you. Eyes so lidded, transfixed on the area where your mound slowly swallows him again.

You’re nodding, body taking over all actions, completely starved for the man under you. 

He leans up to get a good look at you, taking it slow, burning this in head to remember.

"Thought about you... everyday.” He whispers, mouth parted in lust, gliding your hips along with steady rolls. “Couldn't sleep."

His hands down along the curve of your ass, to your thighs spread out over him, before rubbing up the length of your back, holding you as close to him as he can possibly bring you, your tits pressing against his chest. He struggles to breathe evenly as your creamy pussy continues to tighten around him each time he breaches you, the two of you moaning softly into each others’ open mouths. He occasionally catches your lips, slotting perfectly as you grind against him.

His mouth finds its way back down to your pebbled nipple, biting gently before kissing it better. He brings his face back to yours. “So perfect for me,” he whispers.

You start grinding on him more fervently, lifting yourself on your knees ever slightly and baring down on him. He grits his teeth, sinking further down into the bed, eyes never leaving you as his digs his nails into the meat of your hips, forcing you to bounce harder. 

“That’s it, baby. Ride me just like that. MY girl, my beautiful girl.”

You bite your lips, feelings your clit catch on his public hairs. The sloppy squelching of his cum being driven out of your heat by his thick cock is no match to the heavenly sounds you were making atop him. The vein in his neck strains like he’s suffocating himself from air, refusing to slow down, to take a break, to let go for even just a moment.

“More. Give me more,” you moan, confidence soaring as you feel him begin to meet your hips with every thrust. “I want all of you, Frankie.”

He shouts out, lifting you up, his feet digging into mattress as he fucks you from below. “Fuck, fuck!”

You want to throw your head back, ride out this high, but the dangerous allure of him watching you brings your focus down to him, watching the way the two of you are getting off to the other falling apart.

“Just like this. You n’ me. Want it just like this. Forever.” He mumbles repeatedly, ragged pants uneven as he fills you the way you had been unknowingly wanting for months.  

You feel the build of your umpteenth orgasm building in your lower tummy. “Frankie-F-Franke! I’m—I’m gonna—“

“Do it, Querida, do it f-for me.” He thinks he can starve off the low build of his third orgasm of the night, just enough to make you cum for him once more.

You feel the heavy knot in your stomach snap. With absolutely no hesitation, no doubt behind your word, you cry out, “I love you!” as you cum harder than any time before.

Lifting you both practically off the bed, Frankie’s hips seize, pressed so tightly against yours there was no room between you. He shouts loudly, animalistic, snarling with his teeth baring at you and 0 control left in him, immediately emptying his load deep inside with each heavy pulse of his cock against your cervix, painting your walls white with the last of his cum that his balls could give you.

You collapse on top of him, the two of you sucking  air like you were underwater for years. Neither of you say anything, covered in sweat and cum, but finally being able to relax from the pent up release that’s been building there far longer than it ever should have been.

His hand rests against your lower back, somehow pressing your naked body closer to his. 

“I love you,” you whisper again to his collarbone. He brings your eyes to his, and this time he knows you mean it.

-

Frankie wakes to a cold bed.

His arm reaches out subconsciously for your body, but only feels cool empty sheets at his side. His eyes fly open, head sitting upright as he scans his bedroom. There's no sign of you. None of your clothes are scattered on the floor, no immediate trace of your scent. He feels a strong pain in his chest suffocating and stabbing him all at once.

He lies back flat on his pillow, fingers rubbing his forehead. He has two thoughts: the first thought, the one he'd rather think is true, is that it was all dream. You hadn't come home to him.

Before he could bring himself to consider the pain of the second thought, the fear is instantly squashed when he hears the door creak open, your sweet soft smile and gentle eyes landing on him.

‘Hiiiii,” you whisper in a singsong, gentle morning voice. Tip toeing bare foot on the hardwood floor, he see’s you’re dressed in nothing but one of Frankies slightly torn over sized, faded band T shirts that swallows your body. Your bed head still evident, eyes baggy yet happy from the events of last night.

He didn't realize he had held his breath the moment before you walked in, afraid that rather than having dreamt it all, that it did happen, and you had left him anyway.

"I made you tea," you hummed, setting the two cups down by his bedside table.

Your ears go red at the image of him: sheet pulled half way up his hip, his bare chest and torso visible as he props himself up with his elbows to get a good look at you. And the WAY he's looking at you, like you’re the only thing that matters in the world, has you sheepishly avoiding his big brown pupils, sliding in to the covers and nuzzling your head against his shoulder.

He wraps his arms around you, unwilling to let you sneak off again. “Don’t wake up before me like that again.”

You giggle. “Frankie, it’s 4 in the afternoon.” 

He checks his digital clock by the bed, true to your word. You both had fucked so hard, so long last night that he didn’t even realize it was well into the morning by the time you had drifted to sleep. 

He lies back down in bed, encircling you to him again. He can more clearly see the damage of last night’s episode on you: bite marks along your tits, hickies against your inner thighs and swollen lips. he doesn’t even need to touch your pussy, feeling its puffy soreness pressing against his leg. He kisses you gently yet passionately this morning, cradling your head so you can’t back away. Not that you want to—he doesn’t feel any resistance in your movements as you devour his lips. 

“I love you,” he says clearly. He can feel the way your breath hitches, the blush on your cheeks at the confession. “I love you, and I’m so sorry it took me so long to say it. I’m sorry I caused you so much confusion and I—“

“Okay, Fish. It’s okay. I know.” You bite your lip, pushing your hand against his chest so that he’s lying down on his back. “But I’m not sure I forgive you just yet.”

A brief moment of confusion wracks his face before you’re clambering on top of him again, your naked lower body straddling his under the sheet. You fist the t shirt of your head, letting your soft supple breasts fall. Frankie immediately grabs them tenderly with both of his warm hands, his breath quickening. His length twitches, hard as a rock and pressing right against his lower stomach as you glide your slick folds along him.

“I think you should keep making it up to me.” You align the tip of his throbbing cock against your swollen entrance and sink down, hands seeking purchase on his chest, scratching the skin there as he fills your sore cunt, taking him down to the hilt in one go.

You let out the tiniest, sexiest whimper, and Frankie is ready to drop everything he’s ever owned just to hear it again. So smitten with you, he’s grinning harder than he has his entire life. Like a big dumb idiot.

Your big dumb idiot.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Querida: I love you.”

Tagging people who either requested a part 2/3 or directly requested to be tagged. At least what i can remember (sorry if I missed you!)

- - - -

Series masterlist

Series Taglist: @paleidiot @pedropascalsbbg @tonakings @nerdieforpedro @thewritermj @ahintofkiwistrawberry @perfectly-imperfect-me23 @sammy-4103 @survivingandenduring @millercontracting @emilyjustemily @boiistfu @pedritoferg @missladym1981 @titlee78 @fairytale07 @multiplefandomwritings @steviesimp @marisemonteiroo @dilfluverrrrrrr @howdigetinhere @jessthebaker

Permanent Taglist: @harriedandharassed 

[inawickedlittletown]

No Queerbaiting Here

A long time ago…I’m talking May of 2021, I wrote a meta post about queerbaiting. Essentially an essay. I wrote it right before the S4 finale of 9-1-1 aired because I was frustrated by Buddie fans calling Queerbait entirely like the boy that cried wolf. I still stand by it. Sort of. 

Now, even back then I was pretty clear about how 50/50 I was on Buddie ever going canon. (Maybe not in that post but certainly elsewhere) But, I shipped Buddie then and wrote a lot of fic and meta and participated in fandom. I never said it couldn’t happen…I just would never be bothered if it didn’t.

Where we stand now: It’s not going to happen. 

And where I stand now: fully immersed in Bucktommy. And what’s more, I am more than perfectly happy about Buck and Tommy staying together and going the long-run. Although I can still look at Buddie and think it’s a cute ship, I just don’t want it in canon. I would not be satisfied if the show went that way. But what’s more if Buck and Tommy don’t work out, that would be disappointing, but I’d be okay as long as they got to be happy. There is, after all, always fanfiction. 

So, I wanted to revisit this concept a bit now that Buck has been confirmed as Bisexual and now that he is in a relationship with a man. Not Eddie. Tommy. And somehow, some Buddie fans are still crying queerbait because their ship is not canon. That’s not how it works. Also…shipping works outside of canon, that’s the whole point of shipping. 

To reiterate from my original post on queerbaiting, here’s the definition from wikipedia:

“Queerbaiting is a marketing technique for fiction and entertainment in which creators hint at, but then do not actually depict, same-sex romance or other LGBTQ representation. They do so to attract a queer or straight ally audience with the suggestion of relationships or characters that appeal to them, while at the same time attempting to avoid alienating other consumers.” 

Here’s where I stand: Buddie was abandoned a long time ago. If it was ever a real possibility, we won’t ever know. What we do know is that Oliver was aware that at one point he had given them the go-ahead to make Buck Bi. Whether this was by putting Buck and Eddie together or having Buck realize this another way, we just don’t know that. We don’t have that information and nor will it probably ever be provided to us. Narratively, I know that a lot of fans figured the timing of it fit with S4 and that particular finale but we really just don’t know despite what happened in the finale.

I found that interesting looking back at my own post from back then and the discussion that followed where some fans felt that the way the finale went would determine if Buddie would be another queerbait ship. (I think most people agreed after the will scene that it wasn’t queerbait because it did leave a kernel of hope that Buddie might still happen). 

And yeah, I guess you could argue that the network deciding not to go the route of a queer storyline points to missed opportunity. That doesn’t then mean that any queerbaiting occurred or that any fans are owed anything just because something that was set up or that the writers were writing towards was then scrapped by the network. Is it a shame that it didn’t happen in whatever way they wanted to play it out, sure, but only because Buck would have been confirmed queer earlier. In the same vein isn’t it nice that we have a confirmed Bisexual Buck now? That the show managed to bring it back to that.

A Buck that is happy and free and that has realized something so monumental about himself? Isn’t it nice that all the queer coding that Buck as a character has received since the start of the show is actually finally not just queer coding but full on character development? That we can look back at the show and see all the things Buck did around other men for exactly what they were. 

When Tommy first returned to 9-1-1 in S7, I think a lot of us were excited by the spoilers about Buck and Tommy because of Bi Buck, but also because this was the thing that could lead to Buddie. 

And then…then Tommy was actually on my screen and I doubted it. I actually thought maybe the spoilers were wrong and this was about Eddie and Tommy? That episode flipped things in such an expertly way that by the time Tommy and Buck were sharing a kiss for the first time I was right there with Buck. On a second watch, it is all there. Buck was never jealous because his friend was ignoring him. He was jealous because his best friend had the attention of the guy whose attention he wanted for himself. The writing on that was perfect and no amount of twisting it can change what happened on screen. 

Buck was not jealous because of Eddie. Tommy was never interested in more than friendship with Eddie. And Buck and Tommy have nothing to do with Buddie. Tommy is not a stepping stone, a way for Buck to be ready to then embark on a relationship with Eddie. That’s both disrespectful to Tommy and Buck, but just not what the story being told on the show is doing. 

The storyline is monumental. Having a big strong guy, a firefighter, figure out his sexuality in his thirties is such good storytelling and add to that Tommy. Someone that we already know, who already works as a first responder, and who can show up and wow Buck in such a way that he realizes something about himself? This is what I’ve always wanted. Because guess what, Buck never questioned his sexuality before this. Not when he met Eddie and not when he met anyone else, not until Tommy. 

Going into the new season we know a few things and one of those is that Buck and Tommy are thriving. The media coverage talks about them as a solid couple, it talks about Buck having someone to turn to and complain to. It talks about how they are still in the getting to know each other phase and I love that for them. I love how they are being treated and described and I can’t wait to see what plays out for them and how much of the build up of their relationship we may get to actually see. 

Do you know what the media and the show never talked about outwardly like this? Buddie. Whenever it came up it was always brushed aside in a way that was respectful to fans and what they saw, but without ever confirming or hinting that the show would ever go there. They never queerbaited anyone with Buddie, what they have done is say “yeah…we know what you see” and then turned around and given us a Buck and Eddie friendship and Buck kissing Tommy, going on a date with Tommy, and thriving with Tommy. 

So, no queerbaiting here on the show where half of the major canon pairings are queer. It’s actually more like some fans baiting other fans with theories and headcanons that just don’t fit.

[joszns]

HIII JO!!

do u think you can write smth about like reader surprising ellie with a tattoo of ellies name on her thigh and then ellie goes absolutely ham wit it😋

HIII thank u sm for this request anon!!! it was fun to write :) dreaming about ellie fucking me silly all cuz of some ink in my skin…it does things fr.

warnings: cunnilingus (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), accidental sex tape kinda, reader takes a pic during sex

“ellie! ellie! babe, look!” you say excitedly, rushing inside your girlfriends room.

she smiles when she sees you, taking off her headphones and opening her arms for a hug.

“what is it baby?” ellie coos, welcoming you into her lap.

you grin mischievously and lift your skirt up, revealing a tattoo on your inner thigh. small and delicate, it reads: ‘ellie ❤︎’.

“do you like it? i got it done earlier, i’ve been dying to show you!”

ellie stares at the tattoo, feeling heat pool between her legs. her strong hands grip your thighs, causing you to jump a bit at the sudden pressure.

“it’s cute…” she says, staring at it.

“you hate it.” you pout, looking away.

“i love it. i love it so much.”

“prove it.” you say.

ellie brings your face to hers and kisses you deeply, pulling you into her by your jaw.

you moan into the kiss, arching forward as your tongues sloppily slide against eachother. her hands wander, dropping from your neck, then your chest, and finally your thighs. she caressed the area near the tattoo, gently rubbing her thumb over the ink. whimpering, you pull her impossibly closer and tug on her hair lightly.

ellie picks you up and walks to her bed, putting you down and immediately kissing down your body. she stops at your thighs, pulling up your skirt and kissing the skin around your tattoo while looking up at you.

“telling everyone you’re mine, hm? my name, on display..” ellie said, leaving a hickey on your thigh.

“yeah, love showin’ you off baby..” you sighed, spreading your legs open more as ellie’s mouth slowly inched upwards.

she breathed out over your cunt, making you shiver. you feel yourself throb expectantly, embarrassed at the fact ellie could see just how wet she made you.

“so pretty, my love..” ellie says, placing a soft kiss on your soaking clit. she looks up at you as she does this, watching your expression falter slightly.

she breathes you in one last time before pressing her tongue on you, slowly pulling the wet muscle through your sloppy folds.

“elie…” you whine, pushing your hips into her face. “stop teasing.”

she complied with your request, happily eating you like you were her last meal on death row.

you moaned, fingers tangling in her hair, hips bucking up into ellie’s smothered face. her expert lips clung to your clit, sucking softly as her tongue flicked the cherry bud. her right hand lingered by the tattoo, gripping and kneading the fat below it.

“so good baby, who’s pussy’s this?” ellie asked, her other hand moving up to slide one of her long fingers inside of you.

“yours baby fuck—s’yours, my pussy’s yours—” you cried, chest rapidly rising and falling with each shallow breath you took, orgasm nearing quickly.

“take a picture baby..so you always know who you belong to.” ellie commanded, watching herself slide another finger into your sloppy cunt.

you happily obliged, taking your phone as ellie continued to eat you out. you moaned, back arching.

struggling to keep your arms straight, you positioned the phone at a good angle and snapped a photo, accidentally starting a video as you fumbled with the device.

“ellie..fuck…don’t stop—god don’t stop!” you whimpered, the phone falling onto the mattress as you moaned your girlfriends name over and over.

her fingers were relentlessly perfect, arching and thrusting in just the right way ellie knew hit all the spots you loved the most.

“m’gunna cum! please-don’t—stooop!” you cried, extending your last word as you climaxed hard on ellie’s face and fingers.

ellie rode you through it, slowing her pace on licking and thrusting into you. aftershocks rolled through your body, causing you to twitch every now and then as she departed from your puffy clit with a ‘pop’ and retracted her fingers.

“you alright, baby?” she asked, getting up to grab a towel for her hands.

you stopped her, looking into her beautiful green eyes as you licked her hand clean. ellie swallowed hard, the feeling of your wet tongue dragging on her fingers creating new sensations.

“i’m so fucking glad i don’t gotta share you.”

[carmenberzattosgf]

this is probably ooc carmen but fuck it we ball….virgin carmy who’s just so stoked to have sex with you that he doesn’t really realize how ““not normal”” his behavior is.

most men you’ve been with get icked at the thought of kisses after blowjobs or giving head after they’ve cum inside—carmen does NOT care. gripping your jaw and tugging you up for messy kisses, so elated and pleased with you that he doesn’t even care that you haven’t swallowed his cum yet. cumming on your tits or your sticky cunt and immediately cleaning up his mess (and giving you another orgasm)

when you tell carmy he’s nasty, he knows it’s a compliment due to your happy tone but doesn’t really know what you mean because to him this is just normal so he’s like ‘:D ? thanks lmao’ -💫

Oh god my brain is going haywire. While I think it’s OOC for Carmy in the show, I definitely think virgin Carmy before the show would do this. Like please the way you worded it as “stoked to have sex with you” is exactly what is going on in Carmy’s brain. Literally just happy to be here vibes.

When you suck him off he refuses to push your head down at all, whatsoever. As soon as he cums in your mouth he’s pulling you off of your knees by your jaw to kiss you. You haven’t even gotten the chance to swallow before his tongue presses into your mouth.

It’s so fucking messy. A clash of lips and tongue. Spit mixed with cum drips out from between his mouth and yours. Carmy isn’t phased at all by it. If anything, the taste of himself on your tongue spurs him on. By the end of it, he’s wiping off the corners of your mouth with his thumb before cleaning the digit off with his mouth.

You assume it must have been a fluke, the way Carmy didn’t care about kissing you with his cum still in your mouth. Every guy you’ve ever been with would have protested, at least a little bit.

It’s not a fluke. Not at all. Carmen’s just straight up filthy. He shows that the next time he fucks you. He has only even cum inside you before, but Carmy has other plans this time. Right after you climax, he’s pulling out of you and fisting his cock at a rapid speed. His eyes stay focused on you and your body. Specifically, on the way your hips twitch with pleasure, and how your head is thrown back exposing the hickies he left earlier. The desperate cries of his name from your lips brings him to the edge. A couple more strokes and he’s cumming all over your stomach. Hot spurts of cum land on lower abdomen and the folds of your cunt.

When you manage to open your eyes again, Carmy wordlessly lowers himself between your legs. His blue eyes look up at you, completely blown out, as his tongue licks a broad stripe from your mound to your navel. He diligently collects every bit of cum on your stomach, swallowing it happily, before he shifts focus to your cunt. Carmen takes the same level of care there, licking up every trace of cum he encounters.

Once you’re all ‘cleaned up’, he works fast to bring you to another orgasm. If there’s one thing for sure about Carmy, it’s that he knows how to use his tongue. He already knows you inside and out, tracing his tongue on your cunt in the perfect way to make you scream. You finish with your thighs clamped around his head and your hands woven into his hair.

“Fuck, Carmy,” you sigh, letting your thighs fall back against the mattress. Carmy looks as happy as can be with a ditzy look in his eyes, and a smile he couldn’t wipe away if he tried. “You’re really nasty,” you laugh.

His head falls to rest on your thigh, looking up at you with a look of devotion in his eyes. “What do you mean?” One of his hands reaches for your own, interlocking his fingers with yours. It’s comments like this that remind you how little experience he has with sex.

“Well… every other guy I’ve been with would never kiss me after a blow job. Let alone willingly lick cum off my stomach.”

“It’s my job to clean you up. I um— trust me, I’m happy to do it.” Carmy blushes as he speaks. He really had no clue that wasn't the norm. He was just doing what felt natural.

"I'm not going to stop you. Besides, it's kinda hot."

"Oh is it?"

So yeah bascially carmy is so into cum play like it’s so very serious. It’s the part of the marking kink he 100% has going on.

[coolprettyleo]

begin again au ☆ - Frankies Lore!

wc: 1.8k

tw: drinking, mean coach, quitting, embarrassing? fluff bit of angst?

ryan leonard x hughes sister au!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

frankie couldn't believe what she had just done. something that had been a long time coming finally crashed down and for the first time in her life frankie felt bittersweet.

her whole life has revolved around the sport of hockey; having three brothers playing in the NHL and a mother and father who both played collegiete and now coach is a nightmare in disguise; for someone who is so tired of trying.

dont get her wrong she loved the sport. growing up, she started to confuse what the love was actually for. she thought she held the same passion to play that her brothers did, she was wrong. she now knows the love was to watch it never play it. she loved too watch her family come together and love something so much. she loved too watch other people play. she loved it from a distance. it took a while to come to terms with that.

when she explains the situation to anyone she always uses the same analogy. she loves to hear country music but that doesn't mean she wants to become the next taylor swift. even if she was a fan.

frankie had finally had enough and quit. not before going off on her coach though. something that she had been wanting to say every time she had been forced to stay after practice, run extra drills, every time she has been yelled at for tipping a shot in, every time she had been compared to her brothers, she finally did it.

*flashback to earlier*

"I want to see you guys here tomorrow morning seven am sharp!" coach lindsey said fiercely.

frankie respected the woman. her story was something she found inspiring. but right now she wanted the strangle the woman. her bones felt as if she was just hit by a bus and she hadn't had a good night sleep in about a month. so frankie being frankie, loudly groaned.

"hughes! just for that, you can stay back and do some laps!"

dont cry. dont cry. dont cry. you caused this.

her teammates filed out torwards the locker rooms desperately trying to get away before their coach decided to ultimately punish all of them while she began to skate. in her head frankie was about to lose it as her coach began to yell insult after insult.

"cmon hughes! you're never going to be good as your brothers with that speed"

"you call that faster?"

"I didn't tell you you can stop!"

coach lindsey yelled. she looked and sounded like abby lee miller. frankie smiled to herself at the thought as she began to slow down after skating as fast as she could for about fifteen minutes straight. not feeling well frankie skated off the rink towards the closest trashcan and threw up.

as she heard her coach coming up to her she began to plead.

"please, I cant take it anymore" she cried.

"your done for tonight. and fix that attitude by tomorrow morning will ya. you think your brothers are pulling this crap with their coaches?"

"I said I cant do it anymore!" frankie yelled finally having enough. shocking both herself and her coach.

"how is any of this okay! after everything you just yelled at me, pushing me through utter exhaustion, you come over here and try to act like its okay!?! i'm done."

"grow up and stop being a brat hughes. i'll see you tomorrow."

"you won't. I promise you that" Frankie threw back as she got her bag and began to walk out.

"you walk out that door and your future on this team is done!"

"its been done" frankie said walking out with tears streaming down her eyes.

*flashback ended*

she didn't know what to do. if she were to call her family they would worry and fly in thinking she was going through a manic episode, maybe she was but this felt real and it felt good.

its like her brain and heart had been at war since she was thirteen and her heart had finally won the war five years later. she didn't know whether to laugh or cry though.

she was happy because she was finally free. but she felt a dark cloud gloom over her when she realized she had to tell her family what she just did. she honestly didn't know how they were going to react.

the guilt began to rain on her as she remembered hoe happy they had been for her because they realized she can actually go on and play professionally since the PWHL had its debut and she was already a top prospect for the 2024 year draft but she just went and ruined it.

they're going to disown me.

that thought alone caused frankie to be where she was right now. in a bar with her fake ID drinking her feelings away on a wednesday night. alone. this had to be borderline alcoholic.

"I mean I wanted this right? so why do I feel like throwing myself off the bridge! why am I like this! am I being annoying? you can tell me greg" frankie rambled on to the bartender whose name was actually john.

"im going to call you and uber" he said dismissing her not wanting to deal with a drunk college girl.

"no! let me call someone!" she said taking the bar phone away from him. seeing as her phone had died about forty five minutes ago. quickly dialing the only number she remembered due to the fact she never saved his contact in her phone.

"hello?"

"drew! please, please come pick me up! you know I hate taking ubers alone. I swear i'll give you a little something after..." she said suggestively.

"frankie? hold on drews in the shower. its will, are you drunk? really on a wednesday? where are you?" will began to scold her over the phone, sounding very motherly.

"don't you judge me, I needed this. and im at the mecca" frankie slurred.

"ryan and I will be there in fifteen" he said hanging up.

__

"lady get off the counter!"

is what will and ryan heard when they walked into the bar.

"oh god" ryan said as he saw frankie start to crawl onto the counter. quickly rushing over to pull her off.

"m'not interested." she mumbled when she felt big hands around her waist.

ryan felt his heart crack. he knew he shouldn't because, one she probably thinks its some random guy and two frankie doesn't know he likes her.

since he first met frankie he realized he's had a thing for her but being the good friend he is, he kept his feelings to himself not wanting to start problems with drew.

it gives him so much anger to think about the fact that drew basically just uses her for sex. but at the same time she's probably just using drew too. so who is he to to get mad.

someone who would give her the world

"what are you doing frankie" will says giving her a disappointed look as ryan pulls her over his shoulder.

"I was just trying to dance!" frankie says upside down.

"on a wednesday at seven thirty pm? at least wait till ten" ryan says approaching the car and strapping her in.

"i quit the team"

"WHAT"

"ur lying"

will and ryan said at the same time with their eyes wide. they knew frankie hated playing hockey, they just never thought she was going to quit. someone with as much talent as frankie needs to be out there.

"m'not. im done and im scared to tell my family. I think they're going to be mad" she slurred as her eyes began to water.

ryan, who cant handle to see her cry quickly got into the back seat with her, and started to comfort her. wrapping her up in his arms and wiping her tears that began to fall from her big blue eyes. he could stare into them forever.

he told will to start driving back to her apartment as he comforted her.

"frankie, your family loves you and you know that. they're never going to hate you because you quit, if anything I think they've been expecting it-"

"geez thanks ryan" frankie says crying drunkly. ryan cant help but smile a bit because even though he hates to see her like this she looks really cute.

"not like that, its just anyone who knows and loves you can see your not happy out there. I see it, will sees it, so I know for a fact they see it too. and if they didnt and they do get mad thats on them. its your life not theirs" ryan says with his arm wrapped around her as she sniffles into his shirt.

"I guess so" she finally says seeing as their pulling up to her dorm.

"can you walk me up? its okay if you dont want too! I get it, im just scared that the RA is going to see me like this and call campus security on me and-"

"frankie! of course ill walk you up, are you kidding" ryan cuts off her rambling pulling her out of the car.

"i'll walk home smitty, you dont have to wait" ryan says knowing he was doing homework earlier that was due tonight before frankie had called.

"you sure?" will says kinda feeling bad for not staying and helping him take care of her. but then realizing ryan probably wants to take care of her.

him and gabe loved to tease ryan on the fact he was hopelessly in love with frankie. of course they would never tell drew even though they know if ryan were to just tell drew how he feels drew would back off. ryan just likes to be complicated.

"yeah, we'll be fine. right frankie?" he says keeping her upright. she was fully awake but the thing about frankie hughes is she loves to lay on the floor when she was drunk.

"yup!!" she chirps while ryan smiles down at her.

they wave goodbye to will while ryan picks her up and walks to towards her door. he smiles as he gets too her door and sees her doormat.

'cool bitches only'

he opens the door using her keys that he found in her purse and hauls her inside down the hall to her room. her room was so her. he loved it.

god I sound like a creep.

he shakes the thought from his head as he settles her down, takes off her shoes, and wipes all the remaining makeup off her face. thinking of how perfect she was.

"ryan" she says dreamingly as she feels him pull the cover over her body.

"yes baby?"

frankie felt her stomach do a cartwheel and she couldn't understand why.

"thank you. for everything."

"anytime frankie hughes"

he says before giving her a kiss on her forehead and walking home.

send in ideas for this au!! im really excited for it!

[soyeonsbabygirl]

"Roll your fucking eyes again and I'll give you a reason to roll em."

Jeon Soyeon x Reader

You and Soyeon had been arguing all day. It started from earlier when she had done nothing but stay in her studio, ignoring your texts and calls. Her reason being “I'm too focused in my work” You talked to Miyeon about it who suggested that you should try to surprise her. You left dance practice early, and tried to surprise her with her favorite meal that night. You did your hair, make up, and put on a nicer outfit. You waited for hours for her to show up , when she finally came in at about 12 Am she didn't even look at the food just going straight to your shared bedroom.

To say you were angry was an understatement, and now here you both were arguing after she had gotten in late yet again. “You don't answer Your phone or anything! Its like you don't care!” You argued, “You're making big deal out of nothing! We're in the same group its not like I don't see you!” Soyeon argued back, “I barely even see you anymore! We're in the same group Soyeon and I barely fucking see you! Do you know how annoying that is!?” you yelled back at her.

“I'm just trying to plan ahead for our next Comeback!” She yelled back, you folded your arms across your chest and rolled your eyes. Soyeon hated when you gave her an attitude but this time she smirked as she grabbed your face “roll your fucking eyes at me one more time and I’ll give you a reason to roll em.”

You jerked your face out of her grip rolling your eyes again at her words. She grabbed your face crashing her lips against yours before you could say anything else. Her hands harshly making their way underneath your shirt making you whine from the roughness. She lightly bit your lip , exploring your mouth with her tongue when you gasped. She pushed you onto the mattress, pinning your arms to the bed. She smirked as she tore your shorts and panties off flinging them to the other side of the room, and shoved her fingers inside of you not giving you time to adjust.

You moaned loudly squeezing your eyes shut “open your eyes.” She demanded , you complied. The minute your eyes opened she began to thrust her fingerd inside you fast and rough. You began to cry as you moaned squirming making her put her hand on your stomach making you stop moving. “Fucking whore. You're usually my good little girl but since you wanna be a slut , i have no problem fucking you like one.”

With each word her fingers somehow went faster and deeper making you Moan louder practically screaming. She laughed at the sight. She went down to your lips hungrily kissing you swallowing all your sounds. She pulled away from the kiss suddenly stopping her movements making you cry and thrash “Say you're sorry.” she demanded “I-I’m sorry!” You cried “For?” She said waiting, “being a brat and having an attitude! I'm sorry! Please don't stop, please let me cum!” More tears came out of your eyes as you begged for her fingers.

She laughed as she went even faster than she was going previously “That's my good girl. You sound so pretty when you beg for me especially when your beneath me like this.” You couldn't even reply as you were spewing out incoherent words. Soyeon felt you clenching on her fingers letting her know you were close. You had a pleading look in your eyes as she smiled even nore deciding to let you cum. She watched as your face contorted to one of pleasure , your eyes rolling back as you screamed releasing all over her hand , a lot of your cum staining the sheets. She kissed your forehead cuddling you as you panted.

She took her fingers out of you as she made circle on your arms. “I'm sorry my girl. I'll try not to spend too much time in the studio anymore.” She laid down on the bed next to you as she held you in her arms. “I think you inspired my next song~”

-

The famous Soyeon smut I wrote last year I hoped yall enjoyed

[firinnie]

Athena's birth a'ka big no no

I literally don't remember from who I read something about "not so glorious birth of Athena" and I decided to add my own idea. So I have it written for some time and the full version of this catastrophe will be added to my fic Lightning comes in pairs but I don't know yet when… sooo here you go:

"Since talking about childbirth and its difficulty, we can safely say that Athena's birth was a disaster that not only had no one seen at the time, but certainly hadn't expected.

Many mortals recall this story as something mystical and incredible, passing it down from generation to generation. Mortals say she emerged from her father's skull in full, shining armor and with a war cry on her lips in full splendor of triumph, ready for her role as a proud goddess. Bullshit.

Imagine sleeping peacefully until someone suddenly pulls you to your feet and after an incomprehensible monologue throws you to the ground (just like Zeus did to his daughter after losing own game) and suddenly it turns out that everything you knew has been taken away from you.

She had no armor, and the naked body of the terrified girl was covered in sticky and leaky substances that also decorated the floor. Trembling. Sea of wet hair was stuck to her arched back as she knelt in a crouched position, face half covered by them, limiting her visibility, but she didn't have the strength to think about brushing them away. She was overstimulated in the first second of her existence.

Warm ichor contrasted with the cold marble, bright light burned her eyes as they darted around, and sounds vibrated painfully in her ears from every possible direction. Even the sound of her own panting bothered her, even though she hadn't yet identified it as hers.

When a new voice reached her ears, she looked up in its direction. A man stood there, holding an axe in one hand, the other covering his mouth. He looked at the girl's figure, talking to himself, and then his gaze shifted to the side. She looked in the direction his gaze had gone and saw-

Another figure was kneeling in front of her, on the ground barely supporting himself with own hands so as not to fall. Through his head, pointed down, she saw the lack of content in his head and realized that the substance she was smeared in was his blood mixed with brain matter and everything else she didn't want to think about right now. Fuck.

She inhaled very violently and with a loud groan began to retreat while still on the floor. Her left hand slipped so the girl just closed her eyes very tightly, knowing she would fall to the ground.

But that didn't happen. Someone caught her and held their both hands on her back, head was on this person shoulders. She opened her eyes abruptly and tilted head back slightly. Then their eyes met. It was too much.

War cries were an ironic statement because she really started to scream as if her life depended on it. She struggled like a wild animal caught in a hunting net and that's actually how she felt.

The person who had caught her earlier was now holding with a hug and someone new was kneeling next to her, a woman. Another one stood a bit further away and said something that barely stayed in her mind, which was swirling with too many thoughts.

“Hera, let her go! She's scared, or maybe she's hurt? Demeter, don't, step aside! For Styx's sake, girls! Oh shit-you're surrounding her!”

The only man who was in her line of sight crouched down abruptly opposite, trying to catch panicked girl by her flailing hands. She felt trapped because literally on every side there was someone who shouldn't be there. Why were they doing this? Why was she agreeing to this? Wait, she didn't want this. She had to- she would defend herself. She didn't know then that the first person to ever kick her, straight in the nose, would be Poseidon. He was and now he was bleeding because of it. She also couldn't know that the first laugh she would hear would be Demeter's rumble at the fate that befell her brother. She didn't know then who they were, but knew she was scared to death when for the first time in her existence she had contact with such a sound. She didn't know what he was but knew she didn't want him near. She didn't want any person who was leaning over her. She didn't want another person who was hugging her to you and trying to calm her down, not knowing then that was Hera. She just didn't want to be here. She didn't want- She didn't- She- It had been too long, too much for her, too much to suddenly- The man with the smashed head who had apparently crawled to them and looked her straight in the eye was the last straw. His hand stretched out towards her face was too much and her body had had enough so she fainted. Someone shouted but she didn't catch what."

[luveline]

ok so i’ve been thinking about a line in one of your steve zombie au drabbles where steve says something along the lines of “you only stop taking to me when you’re mad” . Maybe we could get a fic where they get in a fight and that happens? i love your writing so much 🫶🏼

thank you for your request ♥ steve zombie!au ♥ I am not good at writing fights so I did them making up! fem!reader 1.2k

The silence is icy cool. You look up at your bedroom ceiling and its small yellow line of water damage and blink. You haven't cried since your argument, though you've felt like you could a couple of times. 

It's the longest gap of quiet you've had with each other in a long time. Not counting when you're asleep, you and Steve talk a lot, and when you're sleeping you're touching, so it doesn't feel like you aren't talking. 

Now you're both straight in bed, on your backs, hands close but not touching. Not talking.

The window is open, springtime air infiltrating the room. It smells like the wet mulch of sycamore leaves, chilling your skin uncomfortably. You cover your chest with your arms. 

"You want me to close the window?" Steve whispers. 

Your words feel like mush in the back of your throat. You worry you'll cry if you speak. 

Fuck, you hate fighting with Steve. It's a great thing to communicate with one another, and you're good at it — you'd spent a long time learning to get along. Love makes it easier to forgive infractions, but fights still happen. 

It's the possible consequences of a fight that freeze you up. 

Steve says your name softly. "Come on, don't give me the silent treatment." 

"I'm sorry," you say genuinely, your voice all stuck together like you've swallowed a big lump of taffy, "I don't mean to." 

"I know. I'll close it, okay? It's…" He stands up. "Cold." He sighs. 

You're still mad. You're upset by some of the things he'd said. Underneath that is a searing, unquenchable thought. What if he dies tomorrow and you wasted tonight being mad? What if he gets bit? Shot? Has an aneurysm? You want to stop being mad but anger doesn't work like that. You can't will it away. 

Steve closes the window. The frame plunks. You turn your head to watch him climb back into bed, and, buoyed by your looking, Steve slides in on his side and meets you head on. He smells like hand soap and the low hum of a day's worth of sweat. It isn't the worst smell in the world —you're used to far worse— and you kind of like it. You tilt your head toward his and breathe in sync. 

"I was wrong when I said you were being selfish," he says quietly. "When you explained it to me, I got it. But I really would be happier if you tried to keep the room clean."

"I'm sorry," you say again. 

You try not to fall back into the defensiveness you'd felt earlier. You'd taken your insecurity in yourself and projected it on your relationship.

Steve waits. 

"I didn't realise you were cleaning up after me so much." 

He puts his hand on your hip, a warm handprint seeping into your skin. "I don't really mind cleaning up after you," he says sheepishly. 

He shouldn't have to, though.

You're being honest, you hadn't noticed that he was keeping things in certain places, organising your stuff, turning your tiny room into a clean, safe space for the both of you. But when he'd tried to tell you, you'd gotten defensive, and he's quick to frustration, and tada, your first fight in the loved up months had occurred. 

You don't know what to say. You don't really want to talk, your body focused almost completely on the shape of his palm where it presses into you. 

"Just talk to me," Steve says. 

"I don't know what to say." 

"Say anything," he encourages, his hand travelling under your t-shirt to squeeze at the naked skin under your chest. 

"I don't want to fight again." 

"Then we won't." Steve bursts forward and kisses you. Despite its sudden nature it's a soft thing, close-mouthed. He pecks you twice and breathes a sigh against your lips. His hair brushes over your cheek so lightly it tickles. 

"I shouldn't have said you were selfish. I'm sorry, baby." 

He'd actually called you a selfish asshole, which had hurt a shocking amount. Name-calling isn't really a thing you guys do anymore, and it had surprised you, but… 

"I think I deserved it for brushing you off. For not noticing how much you do in here," you murmur. 

"We've haven't talked about it before, I don't blame you for not taking it seriously." His hand moves to the small of your back. He pulls you in, and only after he's closed the gap between you does he ask, "Can we stop fighting?" 

"You're not still mad?" you ask. 

"Not really. Are you?" 

You wrap your arms around him. "Maybe a little," you admit. "I don't think it's your fault, though. I don't know." 

"Be mad if you want. Have space if you need it, even if it's gonna drive me crazy, but please don't stop talking to me." 

His voice sounds uncharacteristically small. 

It might be silly, but any anger you'd been holding onto dissipates just like that. You tuck your face into the nook over his shoulder, fingers splayed over his back. You kiss his neck gently. 

"Stevie," you mumble. "Sorry. I'm not mad, okay? Are– are you?" 

"I just told you I'm not." 

"I know, but sometimes I think you'll tell me what I want to hear." 

Not to be full of yourself, but you know Steve loves you. It makes a lot of things easier, most things in fact, but it makes understanding how he's feeling in moments like this harder. You both want to sweep it under the rug and be sweet on one another again, but avoiding the issue will only make it bigger. 

"What do you want to hear?" he asks lightly. 

"Steve." You laugh, rubbing the tip of your nose against the neckline of his shirt. It pulls. 

"I'm not mad. I think all the mad kind of went away after I called you an asshole. Which I'm sorry for." 

"You've called me worse." 

"I'm sorry for that, too." 

You drop your head back on the pillow to get a good look at him, locking your gaze onto his. His eyes look very dark in the dim light of the room. The sun is setting quickly. Soon, it'll be night time. 

"So we're both sorry," you say, twisting a piece of his hair around your finger. "And I'm not gonna stop talking to you. You couldn't make me. You could break up with me and I'd still follow you around asking stupid questions." 

He tries not to smile. A laugh bubbles between his lips, and it's like the sun comes out right there in your tiny dorm room in Michigan. 

"Shit, I love you," he says. 

You push his chin up to kiss the underside of his jaw. "I love you too." 

[reashot]

What do you mean you won't LEWD me?

Thank you all for helping with the reblog of my last fic and I love what some of you made that I'm making this as a sequel to it.

Ruby's House.

Ruby: Jaune, thank you for your help in making breakfast 🍳☕🥓

Jaune: It's the least I can do Ruby for letting me stay the night. And thank you too Ruby for helping me with the cooking.

Ruby: Flatterer. But I don't think that heating up bacon and eggs can be considered cooking.

While Jaune is busy preparing the table for everyone. Ruby silently walks up behind him and lovingly embrace him.

Jaune: Ruby?...

Ruby: I-I want to say that I'm sorry and I admit that I may.... Have gone a little bit overboard last night.

Jaune: I don't think attempted rape can be considered little.

Ruby: That's because you keep rejecting me. What do you have against me Jaune. Do you hate me or something? Because if you do then just say it. Don't string me along. Don't get my hopes up...

Ruby said to him as she cries into Jaune's back and Jaune then respond by slowly turning around and returns her embrace.

Jaune: How could I hate you? You're the greatest girl I know.

Ruby: T-then why?

Jaune: I don't even know myself Ruby. I want to do it with you too, but it just doesn't feel right.

Ruby: What do you mean it's doesn't feel right?

Jaune: I mean we should wait until we're married at least.

Ruby: What?

Jaune: I haven't told you this before but I'm a firm believer of abstinence.

Ruby: Abstinence. What the fuck is that?

Jaune: It means I will not engage in lewding before marriage.

Ruby: Huh!!! What kind of messed up crap is that are you in a cult. Is that it Jaune, you won't bone me because you're in a cult?

Jaune: No! I'm not in a cult. I-I just don't want to ruin what we have by sullying you before marriage.

Ruby: You can sully me if you want! I don't mind and you know I want your baby so you know that I will marry you no matter what.

Jaune: Still Ruby, no means no. But thank you for thinking about marrying me. I know that you can do better.

But before Jaune can finish saying his piece. Ruby's mind starts to wander into a dark place. And in that place she finds her mother...

Ruby's subconscious.

Ruby: Mom! Mom! I need your help!

Summer: Say no more my dear. Please tell me what's wrong?

Ruby: Mom! The boy I like doesn't want to lewd me.

Summer: Oh I'm sorry to say Ruby but I think he's gay. Cause there's no way any straight boy would say no to LEWDing you. Maybe you should find another guy to be your new boyfriend...

Ruby: No. Hell No! I will not pick any other boy but him.

Summer: He must be such a great guy if you think so. But it still doesn't change the fact that he's pitching for the wrong team.

Ruby: B-but here's the thing he wants to do it with me but he wants to wait until marriage.

Summer: Is that boy is in a cult? Please tell me he's in a cult.

Ruby: That's what I said, but no. He said he believes in Abstinence.

Summer: Damn organized religion... Ruby this is why I raised both of you to be godless heathen. Anyway, let me check who this boy you want to pounce on.

Ruby: Isn't he the cutest? 🥰

Summer: Oooh mama likey... Wait a minute; blonde hair, blue eyes and dressed like he's going to a Renaissance fair... He's the Arc Boy!!!

Ruby: Mom, you knew him?

Summer: Knew him. I actually promised his mom to marry him off to you.

Ruby: *gasp* I'm enganged to Jaune?! That's awesome!!! We're meant to be. I gotta tell Jaune about this!

Summer: Wait a moment Ruby. I know how you can make Jaune LEWD you.

Ruby: You do. How?

Summer:

Back to reality

Jaune: ... And another thing Ruby it's not okay for a girl of your age to say "lewd" all the time.

Ruby: *shakes head* oh yes of course keep talking hot stuff me likey when you do it...

Jaune: Ruby I'm being serious here.

Ruby: (I like it when he's trying to be all serious and shit. It just makes him look even cuter.) Oh look Jaune, you have a smudge there on your pants from cooking earlier. Here let me help you out. 😋

Jaune: It's okay Ruby you don't have to... W-wait what are you doing?!

Ruby: Well you have to take off your pants to clean it first right?

Jaune: N-no it's fine Ruby please stop it! I did not consent to this...

Ruby's subconscious

Ruby: Mom! What the F are you doing with my body!!!

I know it's my body but if I'm not the one doing the deed then there's no point.

No! I don't consent to this! What kind of monster would force themselves on others.

I gotta find a way to get out of here. Please someone help. I'm about to get NTR'd by my mom!

Back to reality

Ruby: Shhh.... Just let it happen. *lower pants*

Jaune: No please. I don't want to lose my virginity. There's still an Elder Scroll video I haven't watched yet... *struggling to keep his pants up*

Kitchen's entrance

Tai: What the hell is making all this racket... *gasp*

Mama Arc: Oh my... This early in the morning too. Looks like I'll be getting my grandchildren after all. Right honey?

Papa Arc: Uh yes. I guess... *sips coffee* (I'm way too hungover to be dealing with this.)

Yang: Oh, sis not in the kitchen. At least do it in your room.

Tai: Yang... Get me my shotgun.

Yang: Which one the 20 gauge or the 12 gauge?

Tai: The 12...

Yang: There's not gonna be much left of him if you use this you know? *hands over shotgun*

Tai: That's the idea. *load shotgun*

Mama Arc: Dear please do something. I think Tai is about to kill our Son!

Papa Arc: *sips coffee* (What do you want me to do I just woke up.)

Oh no! Tai is about to blow Jaune's head off. Will Jaune get to keep his head and will Ruby gets back into hers. Find out next time on Drag... I mean in the next post.

Dear viewer you get to choose what happens next.

[luv4-liv]

❝Take the stress out of you.❞

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: SMUT. +18. First time. Unprotected sex. Obscenity. He angry. Spanking. Marks on the neck.

Summary: Lola and Remus had an arranged marriage, although he was in love with her. Eventually, she also falls in love and decides to prove her love.

The plot of this One Shot is totally mine and my imagination.

You can find it in Spanish on my wattpad account (piscessbabyy)

Remember that English is not my language so it may contain several errors, please be patient with me

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Time had passed, both were closer. Things had improved financially, and they were comfortable, both of them.

Lola had given it a lot of thought, but finally made up her mind. They had been married for months, it wasn't a bad thing.

She saw the time and after taking a shower, she hurried over there.

After passing by that store, and somewhat embarrassed, ordering what she needed, she hurried home, before her husband arrived.

She had bought red lace underwear. It wasn't something very 'WOW' but she had seen Remus slyly looking at those garments, every time they passed by the store.

And a few days ago, Lola had worn a red blouse, for nothing special, and he was quick to tell her that the color suited her very well.

He liked seeing that color on her.

And from there, the lacy red underwear.

As soon as she entered her house, she ran into the bedroom taking the garments out, changed and put her normal clothes back on.

She felt the sound of the door and quickly hid the bag in the closet.

She left the room as normal as possible, due to her nerves, and went to the living room, running into Lupin.

"Remus?" he looked at her.

"Hello," he said dryly.

He left his coat on the couch and headed for the bedroom, followed by his wife.

As they entered, he sat on the bed, running his hands over his face and then his hair in frustration.

"Are you okay?" she dared to speak again.

"Yes.." he replied more calmly, realizing he had answered somewhat curtly earlier.

"What do you want to eat..?"

"I don't want dinner today, honey. Thank you.."

"Did something happen?" she said, still standing by the door, watching him.

He denied, but then thought about it some more.

"It's just that I had an argument with a co-worker at work, and I got really mad at his attitude." he spoke still with his hands on his head, looking at the floor.

Then she saw the opportunity.

"I think I know a way to take your stress away.." she caught his attention, causing him to now look at her.

Lola, her hands a little shaky for whatever her reaction would be, began to pull her blouse off, exposing her lacy bra.

Remus dropped his gaze from her eyes, to lower his gaze to that garment.

She half-opened her lips, but then denied.

"I'm kind of angry, cutie, I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm at your beck and call, Remus, anything that comes from you will make me feel good."

And that was enough for him to get up and slam her against the wall.

He moved his wife's hair to one side, to start kissing her neck.

The girl's moans were getting on his nerves, and he was sure he couldn't take much more.

He gave a little tap on the back of her thighs, to which Lola understood, he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He walked to the bed, leaving her on it, and climbing on top of Lola, without crushing her.

"I love the way that color looks on you."

"I know." she gasped.

He quickly unclasped her bra and went straight to kissing her breasts.

He left a big mark, and smiled.

Lola bit her lip to hold back her little cries, which her husband noticed.

With one hand, Lupin squeezed his girl's neck, without hurting her.

"I want to hear you, don't be quiet."

He continued his task on her breasts, and when both were erect, Remus roughly pulled down his wife's skirt.

Next, unable to wait any longer, he ripped the panties off.

"Hey, they were expensive."

"I can buy you a lot more, if when I get home from work, you'll greet me like this more often." he spoke before kissing her

She gasped in between the kiss, as she felt Remus run a finger across her womanhood, feeling her wetness.

And her moans became even more intense, as Remus began to make circles on her clit.

He was being a little rough, and it was driving her crazy.

Lupin moved his hand away, and Lola was about to moan, until she heard the sound of a zipper, and then Remus's pants drop.

Seconds later, she felt Remus' member, brushing against her womanhood. She moaned at the surprise and closed her eyes, enjoying the contact.

He moved his member up and down, from her clit to her entrance, spreading her wetness.

Remus smiled at the image of his girl enjoying his touch. He never thought he could have her like this, willing to him in such a way.

Lola began to moan unconsciously, the touch was no longer enough for her, and really, not enough for him either.

Without warning, he entered her all at once. Lola moaned loudly and grabbed her husband by the shoulders.

He didn't wait and began to move at a pleasurable speed for both of them.

After a few minutes, he had had enough, he needed to vent his anger.

He grabbed her by the hips and began to penetrate her roughly, causing the moans to get louder.

They were both aware that tomorrow they were going to get complaints from the neighbors if they passed them.

They had no idea how long they had been like this, but in a moment, Remus found the girl's weakest point.

He smiled at that and began to strike deeper into that spot.

When she dug her nails into his shoulders, he responded with a hard spank, she was sure she would get a mark, and it didn't bother him at all.

Their onslaught was beginning to become unbridled, both were about to release the knot of pleasure they were holding back.

Soon after, they reached their orgasm together, but Remus's thrusts would not stop.

That tortured her from the overflow of pleasure, due to her sensitivity from her recent orgasm.

She moaned and to him it was the best thing he had ever heard in his life.

Remus was slowing down. He left one last mark on Lola's neck, and seconds later, he pulled out of her.

They were both lying on the bed, somewhat shaken and tired.

Remus wrapped his arms around his wife's waist, noting all the hickeys he had left.

"We should do this more often.."

"Anytime you want, love." he replied, running his fingers over each of the marks.

They were so amused with each other, they didn't even notice the missing condom, until the other day.

But well, that's another story....

[dark-elf-writes]

“Slytherin isnt bad,” the red headed boy on the train says to Harry. “My brother Percy is one. According to my other brothers Fred and George, nobody does anything without his say so.” Ron grind. “Malfoy is in for a sore surprise when he gets in and they don’t just pander to him. Bet he’s expecting it.”

Percy, who stopped by to check on his youngest brother and summoned Neville’s toad. Who had offered to place a small spell on their door to prevent people who just wanted to see the Boy Who Lived from finding them.

(Percy who looked at his youngest brother and saw a badger instead of a lion. Who'd already pulled the twins aside before to tell them it didn't matter where they went. Who had been the first to clap when two redheads went to Ravenclaw, their love of knowledge even it was to learn to prank leading them.)

Its a different Harry sitting under that hat.

(sorry couldn't resist)

Harry who gets support and care from the moment he meets the Weasleys.

Who makes a friend over a pile of junk food and failed spells. Who laughs so hard he nearly chokes on a chocolate frog when Ron makes a face at whatever terrible flavor of bean he got. Who is still feeling light and bubbly with joy when they talk about houses and Harry confesses he’s heard some… things from Hagrid that he didn’t know how to feel about (as kind as Hagrid had been, Harry had never trusted a word from an adult’s mouth. Adults lied all the time whether on purpose or because they had lied to theirselves so much that they tricked themselves into thinking they knew the truth. Adults had lied about him for years after all, accused him of things he didn’t do or called him bad for things that Dudley made up. Why would he trust them?).

Ron, surprisingly, gets serious at his words. Sits up straight and looks at him with those deep blue eyes and a smudge of dirt on his nose.

“No house is all good or all bad. My brother told me that, and he’s pretty much always right. Percy has been in Slytherin for years and he’s not dark or evil or whatever. He still holds Gin when she cries and fusses when I try to eat dessert before dinner. ‘S just a place, innit? Places don’t make you bad just by being places.” The serious mask cracks and suddenly Ron looks just as impish as his brother had when they had been yelling about toilet seats. “‘Sides, Percy is there. If anyone could turn a bad place good it’s him. Even tossers like Malfoy won’t stand a chance against him.”

Harry isn’t so sure how one person could make an entire house good (the train was bloody massive and if even a forth of the people on it were Slytherins what was still a lot of bloody Slytherins). Or at least, he wasn’t until he met Percy Weasley.

He was already in his robes, perfectly pressed and unapologetically green around the edges as he eased their door open. He takes in the sight of them, still red faced with joy and surrounded by sweets and wrappers alike, before tossing a wrapped sandwich (different from the smashed one Ron had pulled form his pocket earlier, perfectly preserved with Ron’s name written on it in a meticulous hand) to Ron with a pointed look.

“Eat something of substance, and try not to ruin your dinner, Ronald. Do share with your friend too. The two of you need something other than sugar in you or you will both be sick halfway through dinner.”

Percy didn’t seem evil. A bit fussy maybe, protective certainly after he had headed off a group of giggling older girls whisper Harry’s name and peering into compartments, downright kind when he had helped Neville find his toad and had passed it back to the trembling boy with steady hands and a soft look that screamed older brother. He just seemed like a person. A nice person even. Harry could have picked him and Ron out as brothers even without their matching noses and hair.

Harry thought he liked him. Even if he was getting close to being an adult.

It was Percy’s expression as he handed Neville his toad and Ron’s voice in his ears (“Places don’t make you bad just by being places.”) that Harry held in his mind as the hat fell over his eyes and a voice resonated in his head. An adult voice. Did hats count as adults?

“You would thrive in any house you know,” That voice croons too close and too loud in the space between his ears. Harry was definitely regretting all the pumpkin pasties before dinner now. “But you already seem to have your mind made up.”

Cunning and ambition weren’t bad. Weren’t evil. They had kept him alive after all. Had kept him one step ahead of his relatives and the bullies and everyone else that wanted to hurt him. And places were just places. And Percy Weasley wasn’t evil.

Harry Potter held his head high (not that anyone could tell with the hat dwarfing him) as the hat screamed its decision to the room.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Ron’s voice broke through the stunned silence, hooting and cheering as he jumped around in the dwindling group of unsorted first years. Three more voices joined his, just as delighted, just as kind, just as loud. His brothers from both Slytherin and Ravenclaw, filling the silence with their joy for him. With their celebration of who Harry was despite what others might think. After another heartbeat there were big booming claps from behind him, Hagrid, celebrating him even through his general nervousness around Slytherin.

They were the only ones who cheered. Harry didn’t mind as he handed the hat back and claimed the seat Percy had cleared for him under the heavy eyes of the headmaster and the rest of Hogwarts.

(Harry made sure to cheer just as loud for Ron when he was sorted into Hufflepuff, shouting until his voice strained and Percy nudged a cup of tea toward him with a pointed look and a smile that took away all hear that might have been behind it.)

[geekmystic]

"Adam? What are these?" Barbara pointed at two slips of card stock leaning up against the model of their home.

Adam turned and followed the direction of Barbara's finger. He adjusted his glasses as he stepped over to the model. Picking up one of the slips, he read out loud.

Adam Maitland

The Netherworld Express Cordially Invites You Aboard The Soul Train.

Please present this voucher at the will-call office at any time of your choosing.

The second slip had Barbara's name on it with the same message.

"The Soul Train? What is that? Do you remember reading about it in the handbook?" Adam asked.

"No. Do you think it's a trick? Maybe that Beetleman is trying to trick us? He can't be happy after what we did to him."

"Should we try to get ahold of Juno?"

"No need." A raspy voice startled the couple from behind them. The smell of cigarette smoke tickled their phantom noses.

Barbara turned around and exclaimed "Juno!"

"The vouchers are legitimate. You've been invited to The Great Beyond."

Barbara crinkled her nose in thought. "The Great Beyond? I thought this was the afterlife. You said we were stuck here for 125 years."

"Well, yes, typically, your spirit would be tied to the property for 125 years. However, you two lovebirds found a loophole."

Juno looked the couple up and down, disapproving of their naivete. With a sigh, she continued. "Both the living and the dead have a terrible time letting things go. Most people, upon learning they're dead, cling to the last bit of their mortal life. It could be a house, an heirloom, or a living person or animal. We can't break the bond until either property or living organism is destroyed or after 125 years has passed."

"But the house isn't destroyed," Adam quickly replied. "Though I question some of the choices in decor." Adam gestured downward to indicate everything below their feet.

Taking another drag of her cigarette, Juno clarified her earlier statement. "That's the loophole. You gave the house to the Deetzes. Your spirits have let go of your claim on the property. You're free to move beyond this mortal realm, past the nether realms, to the Great Beyond."

"Oh Adam. I don't know. Lydia would be heartbroken."

With her cigarette pointed at Barbara, Juno interjected again. "I know you love that kid. But my suggestion is that you leave sooner, rather than later. Otherwise, you'll be tied to her. She's still growing up. But she'll want her independence some day. And she'll resent you for not being able to move on. Leave now, while she has good memories of you."

Barbara felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. Juno made a great point. They couldn't be tied to Lydia forever. They also couldn't stay with the property. It was time to move along.

Barbara watched Adam straighten his back, his face growing serious but his eyes remained soft. "We'll wait till summer. When Lydia goes off to college, starting her adult life. That's when we'll take the train."

Barbara nodded in agreement. It would be difficult leaving Lydia but there was a brand new adventure ahead. She hadn't realized how stagnant life felt until this moment. Helping Lydia and the Deetzes was great but the thought of possibly seeing her grandparents again thrilled her. Adam would get to see his father again. "Okay. Yes. End of summer."

Juno clapped her hands together. "Sounds like we have a plan. When you're ready, hold the voucher in your hand while drawing the door. The will-call office will be straight ahead."

***

The end of summer arrived swiftly. A week before Lydia was to move into her apartment, Adam and Barbara sat down with her to explain that they wouldn't be here when she visited at Thanksgiving. Lydia cried herself to sleep that night while Barbara watched over her.

Stroking her hair, Barbara whispered, "You have everything you need, Lydia. You're the strongest and smartest woman I know. Your parents love you and support you, even if they struggle to communicate it well. I know that you'll never be alone. I feel it down in the very bottom of my soul that you'll never be alone. And we will never forget you. When you're old and gray, you come find us then. And not a moment sooner. Okay?"

Lydia whimpered in her sleep but managed to nod in agreement.

***

The night before Lydia was to move out, they had one last dance party. Even Charles and Delia danced with them. Adam and Barbara pulled out all the tricks they had learned over the last couple of years to make it a night to remember. Everyone went to bed laughing.

The next morning, Adam and Barbara watched the car pull away from the house, taking Lydia to her new life. They toured the house one last time, sharing different memories (and dreams) they had of the home. Eventually, they found themselves in the attic. Adam brushed some dust off the model, righted a tree, placed a miniature car just so.

Satisfied with his work, Adam grabbed the vouchers and handed one to Barbara. Lastly, he grabbed the chalk and drew a door...

[txtmetonight]

Ms. (?)

call summary ⋆ ★ you and yeonjun since high school have had major rivalry. now you two are teachers at the same school, and your fiery bond hasn’t broken yet. but the other teachers and students make you guys the hottest ship in school. so…what’s next?

pairings *. * yeonjun x fem! reader

genre ⋆ ★ fluff, enemies to lovers (?) dunno its a little complicated, coworkers to lovers (?) again confusing...you'll see once you finish it, oneshot

warnings *. * a bit of cursing (just a pinch) :/, alcohol, a tinge of insults, bad grammar (english isn't my first language 💀 and Grammarly sucks)

featuring ⋆ ★ chaewon, taehyun, felix

call duration *. * 3.4K

It was no big secret to the whole school about the immense tension between the sweet 10th-grade Math and Science teacher and the handsome music professor that almost every high schooler (whether you were a girl or not) drooled over. You and Mr. Choi's (aka Yeonjun) relationship with each other were rather tense and complicated. You’ve known Yeonjun ever since he overtook your place in the spelling bee in High school, spelling ubiquitous right, and ending it with a humongous, ludicrous, smirk sent towards your face. And once you graduated High school with high credits that got you into a prestigious college to receive your bachelor's degree, you thought that you would never see his stupid face again. But imagine your surprise when the same face you’ve hated for years walked through the building doors, ready to greet you in front of your new classroom, the same smug smile on his face. 

“You’ve worked in this school for four years, yet you still don’t know how to properly use the printer, do you even qualify as a teacher Mrs. (L/n)?” You grit your teeth in annoyance, instead focusing on the papers that spit your worksheets for your lovely kids. “No comment?” Yeonjun jokes, pushing around you to grab his own stack of papers, yet furrowing his eyebrows once he notices that the papers he printed out were filled blank. No ink or anything, just plain white copy papers looking like they came straight from out of a newly opened pack. “Um” He tries to turn his body so you wouldn’t notice his stupid mistake but you catch on right away loudly snickering. “I think you forgot to press the side button, again” You grab your papers swiftly before quickly sticking your tongue out once his back was turned and rushing out as fast as possible towards your classroom. Composing yourself, you stick your head into your room to watch Ms. Kim who was playing hangman with your class. 

“Nope, there’s no- oops your teacher’s back” She stays seated in your chair, completing the word she was thinking about while you stride towards your desk, the class filled with groans and gasps once the expo marker marks the last letter, spelling out your first name. You notice but don’t bother as Chaewon snickers, getting up so you could whisper your gratefulness in her ear. “Thank you, god, I already feel a headache coming on” you whine all while she understandingly pats you back before a devilish smile comes upon her cunning face. “Was it because of Yeonjun…you know I saw him hurriedly running after you while you were walking towards the printer room”. You sigh and instead glare at her giggling figure, you’d prefer not to feed into her mindless delusions. She takes the hint and opts to stride out of the classroom, of course not before butting her head back in for a final goodbye “Alright then, don’t give your teacher a hard time” Chaewon finally leaves with a flourish and you could probably guess where she was heading next, ready to prey on her next cup of coffee. Which leaves you to turn back to your kids to teach.

“So who’s ready for more Quadratic Functions” you smile (still stuck on your friend’s comment earlier about Yeonjun following you), and the class breaks out in another round of cries, some even begging you to not pass out those papers in your hands.

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“Ms. (L/n)?”

You turn around to face another of your co-worker, who taught the 9th graders, just a hall over, though it was quite surprising to see him in the breakroom. “Mr. Lee, how may I help you?” you ask, politely smiling at the man who flashes a cheerful grin. “You know, it’s ok to call me Felix…I’m pretty sure you call Mr. Choi, Yeonjun, right?” The mood was a little awkward as you shuffled around quietly nodding a brisk okay and sorry, before he brushed it off with a loud chuckle. “Your classroom?”. You were hoping that you actually reminded him about his own kids to teach since he was spending so much unnecessary time with you, secretly wishing that he could leave you alone so you could eat your lunch. “We have a guest speaker who told me she could take over everything and that she was going to be fine on her own”. By now you were practically rolling on the heels of your feet, praying for any distraction of some sort. And it seems your quick prayers may have been answered because in came Choi Yeonjun with his own bento, confusedly staring at you and Felix then noticing the big empty and supposedly the best spot in the whole break room, which you were gonna sit in. 

This idiot better not. 

You clench your hands, watching the arrogant man take your place before being brought back to reality by a small cough, totally forgetting that Felix was in front of you. “Um so…I was wondering if you could- or wanted to eat dinner with me tomorrow, of course, no problem if not” He looks at your wide eyes while trying to gulp his nervousness away. “A date?” you point towards yourself, both you and Felix unaware of the angry eyes watching you two. Yeonjun looked like a ripe tomato that was gonna explode. The blonde in front of you sucks through his teeth, letting out a small exhale. “Yep” Ok now, Yeonjun was furious and one half of him wanted to confront and stop the interaction and the other wanted to stay put and see what you would do. So he decides the latter, beginning to forget his lunch and instead spreading his legs to lean back on the couch, staring intently. “You’re a great man,  but I don’t think I’m the one for you” You somehow get your words out, carefully picking them as they slip out of your tongue. “How can you be so sure about the future, when you’ve never ever even gone on a date with me before” You swallow hard, senses running all over the place, and his pitiful face definitely didn’t help. “I’m already dating someone” Your whisper was loud enough for Yeonjun to hear, making him sit upright eyebrows raised. 

This was new.

Felix looks taken aback, mouth pouting in shock. “Is that so? you should’ve told me the first time, then I wouldn’t have bothered you anymore” He bows down, ashamed of his actions. “Oh no, you’ve done nothing wrong, but please don’t tell this to anyone” Smiling he nods embarrassedly before gesturing that he was gonna stay quiet. “Have a great day!” he sheepishly skips out of the classroom and you continue waving, keeping the simple grin, it falling down right as his body was out of sight. 

“You’re dating someone?” 

Shit

You forgot that Yeonjun was in the room with you guys, tuning into your guy’s conversation. “Were you eavesdropping on us?” You already knew the answer. “It’s not eavesdropping if it was loud enough for me to hear, so are you actually dating someone?” He finally spoons a piece of his chicken in his mouth, though it was a bit weird that he actually started eating after you took your first bite out of your pizza from last night. Tired of his antics you decide to play along a little, nodding and smiling a little, a loud gasp led out by the male who was surprised by your confession. “Is he cute, or even good enough for you?” Yeonjun grumbles. You glance towards him with a huge grin “Yep he’s perfect…but don’t tell anyone though, keep it a secret between the both of us and I guess Mr. Lee” He continues to stare at you before turning back towards his meal, ears hinted with a tinge of red. The rest of the 15 minutes was quiet, except for a few bickers on the best sauce to go on a salad and the worst football team. It was almost the end of the period where you were finishing up your drink, smiling against the straw while your eyes peered at Yeonjun as he kept defending his point that when he was so into the discussion, his lidded eyes gaze at you, practically sending you into a cardiac arrest, leading you to accidentally swallow the drink through the wrong hole. 

And after Yeonjun notices he blanks out, panicking along with you. “Oh my god, are you okay!?” ‘Does it look like I’m okay’ you try to rasp but instead, you cough even more. He goes to kneel down next to you on the couch, slowly rubbing in circles into your back to calm you down and it works! Instead of full-on choking, you were left with little splutters in your throat. “Here drink some water, and try not to choke again” he grins, handing you his water bottle which you gratefully take. Taking your fill of water, you notice the close proximity between you and Yeonjun, and you could feel the red slithering up your back and neck while you turn towards him to give him your thanks. “Thank you” God your noses were basically touching, and at school too! You’ve never been this close in your guys’ workplace so it sent a shiver of butterflies down your spine. “You're welcome” He breaths and right when he looked like he was coming closer the bell rang sending you two flying apart. 

“Oh, Mr. Choi and Ms. (L/n)!” Both pairs of eyes shoot towards the unexpected intruder and you relax once you notice that it was Chaewon, her red lips tugged at the corners. “Ms. Kim '' Yeonjun immediately gets up to bow and you quickly follow, a little flustered about how your friends caught you and your coworker so close together. “I’ll take my leave, my 4th-period students are probably at my door…Mrs. (L/n), you didn’t forget about the staff meeting after school right?” He lifts his eyebrows at your gasp, entertained while watching you dive for your phone and open up your calendar. And there it was, your little reminder on how you were scheduled to overtime and drive all the way home and then back to a bar so you could catch up with your other workmates, all arranged by the principal. You take a look at Chaewon who also pulled her phone out, shrugging once she met your gaze before erupting in a small laugh. “Of course, you forgot, I thought Math and Science teachers were supposed to be smart, I guess not” He looks you up and down, letting out his squeaky laughs as he grabs his water bottle and bento, your face was frozen in shock and offense. “Bye Mrs. (L/n), Ms. Kim” He bows once more towards Chaewon and spares you a look before walking away. 

“The fucking nerve of that guy, you saw him!” She hurries towards you, slapping her hand over your mouth, not letting you speak another word. You look at her, a little startled as she pats your cheek gently. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, you need to go back to class Ms. (L/n)” She still holds your cheeks, her other hand moving your chin up and down to nod at her words. Her hands give you back your lunchbox, pushing you out of the room. “Your kids must be waiting for you, go back before they scribble something on the board again” She waves a goodbye while you cringe, agreeing with her, leading you to fast walk back to your classroom. The last time you were late to your class, the whiteboard was filled with little doodles of you and Yeonjun, each picture demonstrating romantic actions, and they had their own little actions too. The kids knew very much about the cute (in your words revolting) atmosphere that you two teachers had. And they took advantage of it. Some of the lockers were filled with small drawings of yours and his initials in a heart. Yeonjun once even got a love note that had your name on it, which he still teases you about to this day. The birth of a ship name of you two was even made and is still stuck on a water fountain in the 11th-grade hallway. But by the time you got to your classroom, you knew you were too late. The board was already filled to the brim. 

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The bar was packed with customers and through the window you tried to spy your own group, which wasn’t too hard to find. All you had to look for was a shiny bald head that belonged to your boss. Almost everyone was there already, including Chaewon who looked like she was going to die from boredom. “You’re not going in?” You turn around to face Yeonjun who was pocketing his keys. You smirk, “Nope, was waiting for you, ladies first” He rolls his eyes playfully, yet taking your offer to lead the both of you into the bar. “Haha you're so funny” You follow him through the door which you held for him, awkwardly standing next to him, watching your group. “I know”. Waving back at Chaewon, Yeonjun and you stride towards the table. “Oh my, Yeonjun and (Y/n), you’re here, we thought you’d never come” The principal slurs his words, all while checking you up and down which you grimace in disgust. “Come here (Y/n), sit next to me” Mr Park lazily smiles, pointing to the empty spot next to him (which was forcefully cleared by him). You try to refuse but before you could get a word out, Yeonjun had already sat there. “Yeonjun?!” The man exclaims, ready to scold him out. “Sorry sir, but I’m deathly allergic to shrimp and rather not sit there” Yeonjun responds, slightly dipping his head in respect. The only open seat had fried spicy shrimp next to it. “Oh is that so, that’s fine I guess” Mr Park, slumps his cheek onto his palm, staring at you take the seat across from Yeonjun and next to Chaewon who hugs you excitedly. You knew that Yeonjun was lying and for a fact was definitely not allergic to any types of seafood, but you were extremely thankful. 

“Here Yeonjun, drink” Mr. Kang pushes him a glass, but Yeonjun refuses. “I’m not drinking tonight, I have to drive back home”. Taehyun nods before turning to you, offering a drink, and you accept the glass, the bright boy (Currently a student teacher) pouring you the liquid. Conversations rise and die down but there was a lot of chattering at your table. As the night progressed so did your face, turning red and red from the amount of alcohol you were downing. Everything around seemed blank and normal until Mr. Park brought up a futile question. “I’ve noticed that Yeonjun and (Y/n) always go home together and always arrive at the same time in the morning, has anyone noticed that?”. You and Yeonjun stop breathing in shock, even more, stupefied at the murmurs of agreement that arise from your co-workers. “W-we just have the same routes, that’s all” Yeonjun stutters, his black hair sticking to his face, chewing on his lips nervously.

“(Y/n)?” Chaewon shakes you out of your ogle towards Yeonjun, who was staring back at you too, eyes flitting the entirety of your flushed face. “Yeah, he’s right, in fact, me and Yeonjun have a bus to catch, we should go”. You try to stand up but the drinks coursing through your veins makes you stumble, the world around you spinning. “I thought Yeonjun was driving? He could stay a little longer” A 9th-grade teacher pipes up, a lovesick look on her face as she looks at the man. Though instead of reciprocating her look and lightly clears up his throat before sending a formal smile towards everyone. “I have to wake up early in the morning tomorrow, it’d be better to go now”. Usually, no one would believe that very obvious lie but they let it slide, their minds under the influence of alcohol. Yeonjun walks towards your side, laughing at your attempts at walking, and swinging his arm over your shoulder to help you. Sure everyone knew that Yeonjun hated your guts but he wasn’t that heartless. After a string of goodbyes, you both slowly slump out of the building, you sighing at the fresh air. Yeonjun titters softly at your swaying before looking back to make sure no one was behind him. 

“Aww is my baby tired?” You whine into his side, comforted by his large presence, his cologne making you sleepy. “Shut uppp”. Yeonjun couldn’t blame your fatigued figure, it was certainly tiring keeping your marriage a secret. Once you two were far away (and when he couldn’t watch you struggle anymore) his hands slither down to your thighs and in a blink of an eye you find yourself dangling in a pair of strong arms. “Jun what are you-” You’re cut off to a sweet kiss and you happily take it, leaning more into his mouth, wanting to feel him more but he cuts you off from your need, instead landing you onto your feet so you could get into his car. His hands gently move the pieces of hair that stick on your face, eyes glazed with something so pure that it made you want to melt into the seat below you. He spots your squirming, turning his hand so the back of it, laid on your cheek. “Do you need to throw up?I brought plastic bags?” You smile against his cold hands, shaking a no. The silence felt comfortable, as Yeonjun decided to crouch by your seat still out of the car, still observing you with a delicate look, and his soft lips pouting at how stunning you looked. “Stop staring at me like that” You whisper, taking his other hand in yours. 

“Baby you’re the smartest woman I know, I didn’t mean what I said today at school” He snuggles into your cheek apologetically. It’s been gnawing at him all day after he said that, feeling extremely guilty even though you knew he meant it as a joke. “I don’t mean anything I say that’s rude, I swear” He continues on, giggling with you as he burrows his nose deeper, lips puckered to leave a trail of gentle kisses. “I know Junnie, I don’t mean anything like that either”. You slowly turn your face, capturing his lips in another kiss, noses brushing with each other as his touch feels scalding hot against your skin.  “I really wish you could use my last name at school” He sulks. “Me too, love” You pet his hair, threading your fingers in it, forcing him to release his (fake) glower. “Come on, let's go home” He leaves one last smooch on your nose before groaning while getting up, stretching his limbs. You reach over in the glove compartment to grab your rings, and when he gets in the car, you grab his hand to slide his on, his own fingers scrambling to slip your own ring on your hand. At last, he starts the car, and the rumbling engine almost lulls you to sleep. “You could sleep if you want, I can tuck you into bed” He looks down at your jelly figure against the leather seats. “No I want to sleep with you” He bops his head softly at you, starting to softly hum a song. But alas your eyelids felt droopy and heavy like a dozen rocks sat upon them, so you decide to close them for a second, and the last thing you heard was a little muffled but in enough volume to where it sent blood rushing around your body. 

“I love you, Mrs. Choi”

Bonus:

Chaewon walked out of the building a little after her best friend and coworker left. She wasn’t going to deal without Mr. Park’s nonsense any longer. But as she walked farther and farther she noticed a young couple, the boy carrying his girl. “I swear to god, I’m going to sleep on the highway” she groans, walking faster to her destination so she could call for a taxi. Her eyes glance towards the girl, which looked like (Y/n), and the boy that twinned with Yeonjun. But that’s impossible, Yeonjun carrying (Y/n) would happen when pigs could fly. Maybe she drank a little too much. 

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*sooo how was it? Sorry this is my first one-shot, hopefully, they'll be better and longer ones in the future :) Ask me to be added to my permanent tag list.