#I thought spending less time gaming was a good thing but I think I just have no interest anymore :(

[writingwithciara]

across the hall; part 2 -quinn hughes-

summary: y/n moves in across the hall from quinn and in an emergency, she leaves her five-year old daughter in his care

word count: 1.3k

pairing: quinn hughes x reader, toxic ex-boyfriend x reader

notes: just a follow-up to the first part in the series :)

it had been 3 weeks and quinn had truly kept to his word. he allowed y/n to drop abby off at his place whenever she needed to run to work, or whenever she just wanted to have a few hours alone. he helped her whenever he was able to.

and she was thankful for his presence in their lives. without him, she would've gone insane.

wile she wasn't at work, quinn stopped by to bring y/n and abby some things he thought they'd like. most of the time it was dinner and other times, it was a book for y/n or a toy for abby.

abby loved to see him, not only for the toys, but for his company. he was her favorite person. and that didn't upset y/n at all.

okay. maybe it did just a little bit. but she loved seeing her daughter happy.

one night, while quinn and abby were waiting for y/n to get home from work, abby looked up at quinn with a smile.

"my mommy says you're a hockey player."

"yeah. i am."

"i've never watched hockey before. what's it like?"

quinn let out a chuckle and tried his best to explain the game to her. by the end of his description, abby was hooked.

"i wanna go to a game now."

"maybe your mom can get a night off and i can get you guys tickets for one of my upcoming home games."

"could you do that?"

"i'd have to talk it over with your mother first. but i can try."

"yay." she smiled. "love you quinn."

"love you too, sweetheart." quinn smiled and turned his attention back to the movie they were watching.

less than an hour later, y/n walked through her door and set her bag on the table. she went and joined quinn on the couch. he made room for her and smiled.

"how was work?"

"exhausting, as usual." she took a deep breath and looked at him. "how was babysitting?"

"can you really call it babysitting if you don't pay me?" he chuckled.

"i'm going to pay you eventually. i just never have the time to get the money out for you."

"it's okay. honestly. i don't mind spending time with abby. she's the sweetest kid in the world." he glanced down at the little girl sitting to his right. "oh, i hope you don't mind, but i think i got her hooked on hockey."

"how did you do that?"

"she told me she'd never watched hockey before and then she asked me to describe the game to her. then she said she wanted to go to a game and i told her i'd get you guys tickets if you were okay with it."

"i have this weekend off. when's your next home game?"

"saturday evening." he smiled, really loving how perfectly their schedules lined up.

"perfect. i'd love to go to a game."

"great. guess i'll see you there." quinn stood up and y/n walked him to the door.

"good night, quinn." y/n smiled and shut the door.

by the time saturday evening rolled around, y/n and abby were excited to watch quinn play. he brought over 2 vancouver jerseys for the girls before he left that morning and y/n thanked him.

as they made their way to the amazing seats quinn had gotten for them, y/n couldn't help but be awestruck at the sight. the players were skating around for warm-ups and when quinn skated past their seats, abby jumped up and down. y/n picked her up and brought her over to the glass just as quinn came back around. he tossed his puck over the glass and offered them both a smile before skating away.

"who was that?"brock asked as quinn came over to him.

"my neighbor and her kid."

"that's y/n?" he looked over at the girl behind the glass. "hmm. i always pictured her with red hair for some reason." he shrugged and kept skating. "still gorgeous though."

"relax, dude. you have a girlfriend."

"true. but you don't. why don't you make a move?"

"it's not like that. i'm just her occasional babysitter when she's busy, which is a lot." quinn sighed. he agreed with brock in the fact that she was gorgeous but he had his eye on someone else. he didn't want his friend to know that though. "besides, she just got to town after moving across the country to get away from her past."

"how much do you really know about her?"

"i know enough. can we focus on warm-ups?"

"sure thing, dude." brock skated away and started practicing his shots.

back on the bench, y/n and abby were watching quinn skate around. y/n's eyes didn't stay glued to him though. her eyes began following the blond quinn was just talking to. the one with boeser on the back of his jersey. there was something that drew her to him, but in a way, she felt like she was betraying quinn. then she looked over and saw a girl with a boeser jersey standing a few feet away. she waved to quinn's friend and he stopped to have a quick chat with her.

quinn stopped by y/n and abby again. "i really hope you guys enjoy the game tonight. i'm gonna play extra hard for the two loveliest ladies in the arena."

"as long as we're cheering for you, we'll be having fun."

"glad to hear that." he smiled and skated to his spot on the ice to begin the game.

as the game began, y/n watched as quinn got the puck and took the first shot on the Kings goal. he missed but abby started clapping anyway. she didn't quite understand the game but she was enjoying it anyway.

halfway through the second period, the canucks got on the board with the first goal of the night. the goal was made by boeser and the girl he was talking to cheered with delight. she then turned to y/n and smiled.

"hi. i saw you talking to quinn earlier. are you his girlfriend?"

"no. i'm just his neighbor." she smiled.

"oh, so you're the one he's always talking about?" the girl raised an eyebrow before smiling and extending her hand. "i'm bella, brock's girlfriend. it's nice to finally meet you."

"i'm y/n." she shook bella's hand and smiled. "i'd love to say that i knew who you were but quinn hasn't mentioned a lot of his friends. sorry."

"that's okay. he's like that sometimes." she smiled and looked at abby. "oh my goodness. you must be abby."

"that's me." the girl in y/n's arms smiled at bella.

"quinn has shown us so much pictures of you and i must say, you're much more adorable in person."

"thank you." abby giggled. "quinn says i get it from my mommy."

"oh, does he now?" bella raised an eyebrow. "that's cute."

"you never told me he said that, abby."

"he says it every night he watches me."

"oh." it was y/n's turn to raise an eyebrow. she felt her cheeks heat up quickly so she refocused on the game. and just in time to see quinn score a goal.

"i'm really glad you and quinn met. it was beginning to feel like he would never meet someone who could crack his moody personality."

"he's not that moody. or at least he hasn't been since i've met him."

"that's what i mean. he used to be so moody but since you came to town, he's changed. he talks more, smiles more. and he even plays better." bella grinned and watched the puck exchange between quinn and brock. "whatever you're doing, keep doing it."

"okay." y/n liked talking to bella. it was nice to finally have a conversation with someone who wasn't a child or a coworker. it was like she was an actual friend.

later that night, y/n was walking back to her apartment when she stopped in the middle of the hall. she couldn't believe her eyes.

"what the hell are you doing here?"

[muletia]

Psychic Patch anon here! So glad you enjoyed that idea <3 love putting Op in situations

But as a bonus I could see that debacle being a good entry point into the obsessed megop back-and-forth. Might as well make use of what little info they did get out of Optimus's processor, 1: That you're extremely important to him and 2: Your address.

Thus begins the weekly kidnappings because you're one hell of a useful hostage, but also because Megatron has some curiosities of his own. How could you, a human, possibly be so alluring as to have a Prime at your beck and call? It makes the growth of his own infatuation a bit terrifying, he saw with his own optics what you did to Optimus's mind and can feel himself slipping down that path.

It also factors into his desire to have you as his queen, his second in command. He has some twisted respect for your "powers". After all you must be incredibly cunning and ruthless to claw your way so deeply into his spark even while he was aware of your tricks. (Little does he know there are no tricks, you're just catnip to powerful enough Cybertonians)

Our minds were totally on the same wavelength because I thought of the exact same thing! Thanks for sharing this idea <3

It’s not so easy to impress Megatron, and he doesn’t hand out his respect to just anyone. Even less so can I imagine him respecting some pathetic, miserable human... unless that human somehow managed to charm their way into and settle firmly within the very spark of Optimus Prime.

He wants to see how you pulled it off. To conduct research on a species that, until now, mattered to him as much as an empty energon container, and to use the knowledge he gains for his nefarious™ purposes. But also to talk, this time to peer into your primitive mind and extract the information he needs. To get to know you from the inside, but not destroy you — because you’re far too valuable.

I think he’d spend long sessions just staring at you while you sit on his lap. Studying your reflexes, waiting for you to uncover the true potential of your abilities, and verbally prying information out of you.

Megatron is convinced that your relationship will only ever be a one-sided transaction. He’ll squeeze everything he wants out of you and then eliminate you once he grows bored. But then you get “rescued” by the Autobots. And that’s when the real game begins — the back-and-forth of both factions fighting over you. Giving obsession time to spread through every inch of Megatron’s being.

Over time, he realizes he’s not taking you back to study your tricks. He’s taking you back for you.

Is he furious that he let himself be beguiled by a human? Probably. But the fury that burns within when he sees you in Optimus’ servos is far, far greater and hazardous...

jdbd the comparison to catnip is so spot on — not just because it’s ha ha funny, but also because of how easily you intoxicate the bots you spend time with and how dangerously quickly they become addicted to you <3

[cherryblossms]

it only made sense, to garam at least, that he'd worry about disturbing anybody's peace. he was my boyfriend and i had to worry about annoying him. the words garam thought but didn't dare actually verbalizing. he'd already eluded to axel enough, he didn't want to directly speak of him and risk ruining the air between himself and angel right now. he was also afraid of angel possibly being hurt by the fact that garam was thinking about his ex in a moment like this. "just tell me if whatever i'm doing bothers you." at least if he found out early on, he'd know how not to behave going forward. "and i mean anything. if i snore too much when i'm asleep or if i chew too loud, talk too loud, or breathe too loud." the last one was a habit he only found himself doing when his focus was intense while gaming, something he had to break himself out of since it was commented on a lot pretty early on in his career. but outside of his fanbase, nobody else had found the sound of his breathing to be bothersome. it took him a moment to gather the courage to drop his hands from his face and, when he did, his cheeks were so red. he was beyond just embarrassed, especially after angel continued to question him. everything after good boy essentially went in one ear and out the other without his brain having the chance to process what was said to him. he was only pulled back to reality once the other tugged at his earlobe, a soft moan leaving his lips snaping his attention. then most of angel's words began to register, his brows beginning to furrow as he instantly moved his hands to his lap to provide himself what little coverage his hands could give. "you can't say things like that to me." he whispered, shaking his head. it just wasn't fair, anybody could get garam to do whatever they wanted with the smallest amount of appraisal. even if it wasn't necessarily in a sexual or physical context. his gaze dropped down to his own lap, brows furrowing even more as he grew frustrated with himself for getting turned on by those words; good boy. he really did want to eat breakfast with angel, he wanted to go out shopping together and just spend the day with him. but his body wanted something more than that, more than what was already given to him. garam looked back to up angel, doing all that he could not to look as desperate as felt he was to be touched by the man again. "i don't want you to think i'm some sex addict or anything like that, because i'm-i'm not." but how could anybody believe that when angel had gotten him hard, in some sense, three times now in less than a twenty four hour timeframe. maybe it was because it'd been such a long time since he felt excited for something as simple as physical touch, knowing that there was true emotion behind angel's words and his actions weren't driven by the desire to come by any means. "you've always been so careful with me, you've always gone out of your way to care for me. how am i not supposed to be turned on by you? emotionally—" he felt guilty, knowing that others could see that garam used angel emotionally before he had the chance to realize it, himself, "i'm so sorry for having done this to you. i mean, i'm sure you've had lovers in the mean time but waiting and watching the things i've done, how i've behaved, who i associated with... i'm not a good boy, i shouldn't be rewarded when i've been so bad." he slowly moved his hands away from his lap, letting them fall from his thighs to rest on top of the mattress on each side of his calves; his fingers grasping at the material below them. "we should eat," he blurted out, thinking if he changed the subject quick enough, angel wouldn't have a chance to process what he'd said and respond. "you're hungry and i'm hungry. and-and there's a lot i have to buy and i don't want to be out too late... you know, just in case." the last thing he wanted was to risk running into axel and have their day together ruined.

Hearing Garam ask him to join the hunt for warmer socks was enough to put him at ease. What Angel didn’t expect was the man’s full confession. He sat there quite with a blank stare. But because he wasn’t listening but more from shock. All of this was going on in his mind? Angel thought himself unable to fathom how Garam even functioned with all of that going on. However, he stayed completely silent until he seemed the man ran out of breath from his gasping. Angel’s eyes softened as he leaned forward and kissed the other man’s hands. “I’m sorry I wasn’t clear about my feelings. Each word followed with a soft kiss to Garam’s hands. “Since when do you care about annoying me? Garam you are my best friend first before anything else. That will never change.” Angel smiled as he moved closer looking at the way the man was sitting. Angel always found him cutest like this. So flustered and unsure, “I don’t regret what we did Garam. Not right now. I’m still working through some things. Some days I’m okay and some days it hard to get out of bed. But what I want you to focus on is how I feel about you. That is what I was trying to say earlier.” He continued wanting to cover everything Garam said. Angel wanted to show him he was listening and took all his words seriously. “Well baby, you made a rule and I made a rule. We have plenty of time to work up to that. What a beautiful mess you would make. Don’t be scared I’ll never do anything you are not comfortable with. And I’ll never do anything I don’t want to do. I appreciate you being worried for me but I’m a big boy. I’ll speak up for myself” Angel cooed putting his face inches from Haram’s hands, “please look at me baby, I want to see your handsome face” he whispered kissing his hands once more. Angel smirked as he leaned closer to the other man’s ear, “So you thought about me? What exactly did you picture Garam? You don’t think I want more of you? Hearing you moan for me, like the good boy you are?” He was having too much fun with this. How could he not get turned on by the way Garam was talking. However, he pulled back when the man invited him once again out with him shopping, “Tour deer really caught me by surprise. Just warn me next time they are freezing. But I would love to help you shop for anything you need. It’s still early we can cuddle some more…or you know I could go another round?” He grinned as he playfully bit the man’s ear lobe before pulling away. “After I can cook for us and we head out shopping. How does that sound?”

[syvanna]

trying to convince myself things aren't becoming meaningless again

[icewindandboringhorror]

Well! I started remodeling the house sooo long ago (original post of it back in 2018), then got distracted and forgot it in the closet for a long time, ignored it on and off, etc... Then, finally finished the house in 2022. THEN, I forgot about the pictures I took of it in 2022, and am now posting them in 2024.. A good example of how the timeline of my side craft projects usually go lol

But, at least I do have the photos now, so... finally sharing them ! 

I just used a blue sheet as a 'sky' and a green sweater with some fake flowers on it to try to look like it was on grass lol...

(more images under the readmore)

The bedroom-

The library/potion room -

The living room area-

Then the little kitchen

The pictures are not very good, but these are the best I could find? I filmed a video of me working on the whole thing (who knows when that will be out..if it took me TWO years just to post the photos lol), so I think while I was taking the pictures, I was thinking “eh, they don’t have to be great, since I’ll show it in more detail in the video :3″, but now I kind of regret not having more actual detail shots or anything.

(sidenote: I'm pretty sure I've posted better pictures of some of the individual rooms before though too? sometime before I had added the finishing touches but when they were basically done and looked almost the same as these. so maybe it's okay that these are kind of bad lol)

I think progress on it also stalled a bit due to the pandemic starting, since like 90% of the stuff in here is random things I found at the bins (giant goodwill donation center where you dig through tubs of various items all thrown together), so once I couldn’t go out to the bins anymore, I lost my method of hunting for new items, and just had to work with whatever scraps I already had or could make myself with very few materials/tools.  The bins is a really large and always crowded place, so it's still not safe for me to go with current community transmission levels lol... who knows when I shall be able to use it to get dirt cheap crafting supplies ever again.. T o T

ANYWAY! It was a fun little project, even though of course it's a little rough around the edges and not exactly as I'd envisioned lol. As usual, I always enjoy the MAKING of things the most, yet then have no idea what to do with the finished project, since the process is what's enjoyable to me.

I think I'm going to take all the glued down furniture out of it and then repaint it, then maybe donate the base house back to the same thrift store I found it at. Like completing some sort of crafting circle of life or something lol

slowly making some progress on the doll house I’m trying to remodel! 

[sxcretricciardo]

you broke me first - L.N - pt. 2

part 1

•

It had been a month since the night of the concert—the night Lando showed up unannounced and left you reeling with his apology. You hadn’t spoken to him since, not because you didn’t want to, but because you were scared. Scared that letting him back in would undo all the progress you’d made.

But he hadn’t disappeared.

Lando found ways to show you he meant what he’d said. A bouquet of your favorite flowers arrived on your doorstep one morning, with a simple note attached:

“I’m sorry. I’m here when you’re ready. – Lando”

When you traveled to Paris for the next leg of your tour, a small care package arrived at your hotel: your favorite snacks, a candle that smelled like home, and a handwritten letter.

“I know I hurt you, and I’ll spend every day proving I’m not that man anymore. Take all the time you need.”

It was little things like this—unobtrusive, thoughtful gestures—that made you start to believe he might be serious.

One quiet evening after a show in Amsterdam, you found yourself staring at his name in your contacts. Your finger hovered over the call button for what felt like hours. Finally, with a deep breath, you pressed it.

He answered on the second ring.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant.

“Hi,” you said, your heart pounding so hard you thought he might hear it over the phone.

There was a pause on the other end—long enough to make you second-guess calling at all. Then, his voice came through, breathless and relieved.

“I didn’t think you’d call,” Lando said softly.

“I didn’t think I would either,” you admitted, sitting on the edge of the hotel bed. “But… you’ve been showing up in ways I didn’t expect. And it’s made me wonder.”

“Wonder?” he repeated cautiously.

You ran a hand through your hair, staring out the window at the glowing lights of Amsterdam. “If you really mean it. If this isn’t just… another mistake.”

“Y/N, I swear to you,” Lando said quickly, his tone desperate but steady. “This isn’t a game for me. Not anymore. I’m not that guy who stood in front of you and let you walk away. I know I screwed up, and I hate myself for it every single day.”

You swallowed hard, the ache in your chest familiar but different this time—less sharp, more bittersweet. “It’s not easy for me to believe you, Lando. I need you to know that.”

“I know,” he said gently. “I don’t expect you to just forgive me overnight. I just… I just want the chance to show you. To earn back the trust I threw away.”

His sincerity cracked something in you, and for the first time in months, you let your guard drop, just a little.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Maybe we can talk. Start with that.”

The relief in his voice was palpable. “I’d love that. Anytime, anywhere—just say the word.”

“Not anytime,” you teased softly. “I still have a tour to finish, you know.”

Lando chuckled lightly, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you. “Right. You’re busy being the rockstar I fell in love with.”

Your breath hitched at his words, but you let it slide, pretending they didn’t affect you the way they did. “Goodnight, Lando.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice.

When you hung up, you felt lighter—hopeful, even. It was small, but it was a start.

The first time you saw him again was two weeks later, during a rare break in your tour. You had agreed to meet at a small café in London, far from the prying eyes of the public. It felt strange, seeing him sitting there, his hair slightly messy under a cap, a nervous smile on his face when he spotted you.

“Hey,” he said softly, standing up as you approached.

“Hi,” you replied, shifting awkwardly as you slid into the chair across from him.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. It was as if you were both figuring out how to exist in each other’s presence again.

“You look good,” Lando finally said, his voice gentle. “Really good.”

You couldn’t help but smile faintly. “Tour life has kept me busy. I think I’ve forgotten what sleep feels like.”

He chuckled, but then his expression grew more serious. “I listened to your album, you know.”

Your smile faltered. “Oh.”

“It broke me,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “Hearing those songs… knowing I caused that much pain. I sat there for hours just… listening. And crying.”

You looked at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. “It wasn’t easy to write, either,” you admitted. “But I had to get it out somehow. Music was the only thing that kept me from falling apart.”

“I’m glad you had that,” he said. “But I wish I’d been the person you could lean on instead of the one who hurt you.”

You looked down at your coffee, stirring it absently. “Why did you do it, Lando? Why did you let me walk away that night?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because I was scared,” he said honestly. “I thought if I let myself feel how much I loved you, I’d ruin it. I didn’t think I was good enough for you, Y/N. And instead of facing that, I pushed you away.”

You stared at him, your heart aching at the rawness in his voice. “And now?”

“Now?” He looked you straight in the eye, determination etched across his face. “I know what I want. I want you. I want us. I don’t care how long it takes or how hard I have to work—I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m not that guy anymore.”

The sincerity in his words hit you like a wave, and for the first time, you let yourself believe he might really mean it.

“Okay,” you said softly. “One step at a time, Lando. That’s all I can promise.”

He nodded, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

Over the next few months, Lando kept his word. He didn’t push you or demand more than you were ready to give. Instead, he showed up—consistently, quietly, and with unwavering patience.

He sent you texts after every show:

“You were incredible tonight. I’m so proud of you.”

Sometimes, he’d surprise you by showing up in the audience, sitting quietly at the back, cheering you on without fanfare.

When you had a break in your schedule, he invited you to his place for casual dinners—no pressure, no expectations. Just the two of you catching up like old times, laughing over silly stories and reconnecting in ways that felt real and easy.

One night, as you sat on his couch watching a movie, you caught him looking at you.

“What?” you asked, smiling softly.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “I just… I missed this. I missed you.”

You didn’t respond right away, but instead rested your head on his shoulder, feeling his arm wrap around you.

“I missed this too,” you whispered.

It wasn’t until the final night of your tour—another sold-out show in London—that you realized how far you’d come. Lando was there, as he always was now, standing off to the side of the stage, his eyes never leaving you.

When you sang You Broke Me First, your voice steady and strong, you glanced at him briefly. This time, there were no tears—just a quiet understanding between you.

After the show, he found you backstage, grinning like a little kid.

“You were unbelievable,” he said, pulling you into a hug.

“Thank you,” you replied, your arms wrapping around him tightly.

When you pulled back, he looked at you with a seriousness that made your heart race. “Y/N… I know I don’t deserve it, but I love you. I love you so much it scares me. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you, if you’ll let me.”

You stared at him, your chest tight with emotion. “You’ve already started proving it, Lando. And I think… I think I’m ready to try again.”

His face lit up with a smile so genuine it nearly took your breath away. “You mean it?”

“I mean it,” you said softly, cupping his face in your hands. “But no more mistakes. No more running.”

“Never again,” he promised, leaning in to kiss you—soft, slow, and full of everything you’d both been holding onto for so long.

And in that moment, you knew: this was your new beginning.

[mortalityplays]

Forgive me if I'm mistaking you for another person, but I remember you speaking at multiple points on the unsustainability of free social media services (I think especially in response to the cohost collapse?), and I'm curious on what your thoughts on bluesky are so far. I'm not an expert on the subject, but from what I've read previously it seemed like they were on track to be financially sustainable, but I don't know if the recent floods of users has thrown those projections off. Sorry if I'm mixing you up with someone else on my timeline, in that case just ignore me.

bluesky will almost certainly follow the same trajectory of monetisation => bloat => enshittification => decline as every other major platform built on venture capital and user hoarding. it's a terrible model that only works in the short term as a mirage for attracting funding and making founders look good for a year or two before they sell.

you can see the same effect in the decline of all the subscription box services that came into vogue just before covid: they feel great to use for as long as the initial injection of venture funding lasts, because the purpose of that funding at that stage is to attract users and impress the next round of funders with how pleasant/intuitive/efficient/ethical/good value the service is. that's the stage where they're handing out freebies and bowling over influencers, and every ingredient in the box is fresh and high quality and locally sourced. wow what a good deal, what a great system!!! why hasn't anyone done this before? the answer is because it's unsustainable by design. they rack up good reviews, sign on a billion new users, attract new funding from a bunch of much more credulous investors, and then gut all of the expensive parts. portions get smaller, ingredients get worse, packaging gets flimsier, prices go up, freebies turn into "5% off your first 9 boxes when you invite 3 friends", and customer service vanishes.

with social media (and platforms like discord) the logic is the same, it's just a little less glaringly obvious to the end user because they're not coming home to leaking packages of rancid chicken on the doorstep. bluesky has an advantage over tiny operations like cohost because it was founded by a billionaire making a point for the sake of his own image. it got a really significant chunk of startup funding, and the owner had existing connections and rep in the space to attract more. That's why it has survived the goldrush period, why it still feels good to use, and why users who have been burned so many times before are finally accepting it as a stable, reliable option. It's still in its venture capital honeymoon phase where the only thing worth spending money on is making the service attractive to users.

What I expect we will see next, with another mass influx of users from twitter and new funding from a rogue's gallery of tech venture sickos led by Blockchain Capital is a strong ramp up into monetising that userbase. They've already been pretty forthright about how they plan to do this, and I think it's a solid roadmap of how Bluesky will bloat and decay over the next few years:

this is a huge lol. don't worry, we're not going to hyperfinancialize the social experience through NFTs. the thing even crypto freaks started feigning amnesia about a year ago. real "our health conscious sodas are 100% arsenic free" messaging here. They know perfectly well that rubes users are suspicious of their typical 5 dimensional tech finance chess games and are patting our hands about last week's bogeymen so nobody worries too hard about whatever 'decentralised developer ecosystem' just happens to be helmed by a bunch of crypto guys. this definitely means something good and based and not a google-like single sign on user data harvesting operation.

This is the same shit that's currently rotting the floorboards of discord. Bluntly, there is no way to run a platform on this scale without gating functionality behind paid services. Discord has been squeezing free-tier file uploads and call quality etc. down steadily and cranking up subscription costs over the last year or two, throwing in chaff like animated avatar frames to try and justify the user cost. They're also doing the same misdirection thing again here, pointing to Thing We All Hate to deflect from thing we might not like very much when they do it. Booo elon booo we all hate elon!!! wait how do we feel about subscription models again,

watch out for this to kill porn on bsky like it has killed porn on every other social platform 👍 boooo we hate elon boooo stupid idiot and his 'everything app' booooo wait why do you need my tax information, what's that about mastercard,

Look, we are all aware social media is a money pit. Let's not forget dorsey was looking to sell twitter in the first place, long before elon's very public plunge into total online derangement. Subscription services are not going to plug the hole, so we are gradually going to see more and more spaghetti thrown at the wall while early funders shuffle cards and do their pyramid scheme bit bringing in stupider and stupider investments. this is the window in which bluesky will be temporarily worth using for us, for the idiot public, the poorly rendered crowd jpegs in the background of their venture capital MOBA. it's in their interests to slow and pad the decline as much as possible, because that is how they get maximally paid.

Given the scale of the money involved, and dorsey's weird ego investment, I think bluesky will probably manage a controlled drift for a good few years before it gets really bloated and painful. and by then we will all be so used to the *checks notes* decentralised developer ecosystem that we'll just be posting through it, watching another generation of columnists call another collapsing platform 'their beloved hellsite' and passing around that meme about not getting out of our chairs no sir until idk we all get on a fediverse neurolink alternative to stick it to the elongated muskrat and our brains pop peacefully in our sleep. which I guess is the closest thing to viability any social media platform can achieve.

anyway diogenes the cynic is also on bluesky

[aventurineswife]

hear me out!

Reader was in a relationship with aventurine and Dr. Ratio, BUT! It was like Aventurine and Rayio liked eachother more than they liked the reader!

You following along?

Good! Cause I'm not done!

THEN! Reader goes to bar gets a little tipsy (read as drunk) and ends up venting their sadness and frustration to kind strangers willing to listen! (Aka Argenti and Boothill!) Things end up almost getting, suggestive to say the least before reader ends up stopping any more advances and leaves, little does reader know that her encounter with Argenti and Boothill would leave them desperate for more...

(Basicaly Yandere poly Argenti and Boothill x Reader)

And, this is just something else I wanted to say but what if Aventurine and Ratio notice reader kinda drifting away, ad they notice that reader is starting to make more friends and reader starts trying to spend less time with them? Maybe somehow they findout Argenti and Boothill are obsessed with reader? I see Aventurine and Dr. Ratio being possessive of things or people they consider "theirs" and slowly they start becoming as obsessive as Boothill and Argenti and now reader has 2 couples vying for her attention!

( I totally understand if this is to much or confusing!)

“I Wanna Make You Mine”

Summary: You are in a relationship with Aventurine and Ratio, but you began to feel like an afterthought as your partners’ interest in each other overshadows your bond. One night, seeking solace and a brief escape from your lonely frustrations, you meet two enigmatic strangers at a bar—Argenti and Boothill. Both quickly become captivated by you, their admiration bordering on obsession. You find yourself ensnared in a dangerous game of affection and desire, with each group willing to do whatever it takes to win your undivided attention. The question is; Who are you going to be choosing?

Tags: Aventurine x Reader x Ratio, Argenti x Reader x Boothill, Polyamory, Not really a love triangle since you pulled 4 men/Love pentagon, Jealousy & Possessiveness, Yandere Themes, Slow Burn Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Longing, Light Drunkenness, Obsessive Behaviour, Emotional Tension, Emotional Angst, Slight Cheating Behaviour.

Warnings: Possessive and Obsessive Behaviour, Light Alcohol Use, Yandere Themes, Emotional Distress, Do not try this at home or think this is cute and all. This is fictional.

A/N: I'M DEFINITELY HEARING YOU & DON'T WORRY ANON I UNDERSTOOD YOUR REQ!! 🤭 THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR STUFFS LIKE POLYAMORY RELATIONSHIPS (SO DON'T COME AFTER ME IF I DID SOMETHING WRONG!!) AND YANDERE! 😪 I personally don't ship any characters in HSR but for the sake of this fic, they're being shipped.

In the dim glow of a hazy bar, the soft clinking of glasses and murmurs filled the air as you downed your third drink. The evening had started with only a desire to escape the gnawing ache that Aventurine and Ratio had unwittingly left in your heart. For so long, you had been the third in your relationship, watching the connection between them bloom far more intensely than their affection for you. It was hard to pinpoint when exactly you began to feel this way, but tonight, the loneliness finally hit.

You sighed, stirring your drink absentmindedly, lost in thought until a warm voice cut through the fog of your mind.

“Are you alright?” Looking up, you were met with the striking gaze of a man with fiery red hair and green eyes that sparkled with curiosity and concern.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine...” you muttered, masking your sadness with a weak smile. But even before the words left your mouth, you knew they were unconvincing.

“Ah, doesn’t look like it to me.” drawled another voice from beside you. Turning, you found yourself facing a man who looked like he walked straight out of a rugged holo-western. He had a silver gleam in his eye and a smirk that promised trouble, yet there was something comforting in his casual demeanor.

They introduced themselves—Argenti, the knightly-looking redhead, and Boothill, the roguish gunslinger. They struck an odd pair, yet somehow, they both seemed genuinely concerned. That genuine concern, however small, was enough to tug open the lock on the emotions you’d been bottling up.

“I just feel like… no matter how much I try, I’m always a shadow between them,” you confessed, the alcohol loosening your words. “It’s like I’m just… there. I know they love me, but sometimes, it feels like they’re happier with each other.”

Argenti’s gaze softened as he leaned closer, his voice rich and sincere. “A soul like yours deserves to be cherished, never neglected,” he said, his tone filled with a quiet reverence. “I see a light in you, something so rare and beautiful. Anyone who fails to treasure it is unworthy of your heart.”

Boothill leaned in with a sly grin, his eyes flickering with something darker. “If they can’t see what they have, then maybe you’re wastin’ your time on ‘em.”

The warmth of their words and the way they leaned closer, as if drawn to you, sent a flutter through your heart. It had been so long since anyone looked at you like that—with full, unbridled interest.

His hand moved gently to the small of your back, his touch radiating warmth. “Allow us to show you what it means to be honored—to be loved without restraint.”

His words lingered in the air, weighted with a knightly promise. You felt your pulse quicken at his sincerity, yet even through the comfort of his presence, something held you back.

The heat in his touch and Boothill’s gaze made your heart pound faster, and for a dizzying moment, you felt tempted. But, catching yourself, you pulled back, gathering the scraps of your resolve. “I… I can’t. Not like this,” you stammered, stumbling up from the table. “Thanks, but… I need some air.”

You barely noticed their longing stares as you left, desperate to clear your mind, unaware of the yearning spark you had ignited in both men.

Days passed, and you tried to shake off that night. But a strange unease began settling over you. Everywhere you went, you could feel eyes on you. Argenti’s soft, almost reverent gaze in places he couldn’t possibly be; Boothill’s devilish grin, catching you in your peripheral vision even when he wasn’t there. As if they were everywhere, waiting.

The more you found yourself in their orbit, the more their obsession seemed to grow. Argenti, once chivalrous, was now desperate for every glance, every smile you gave. Boothill, once a lighthearted scoundrel, grew possessive, his words laced with dark promises of keeping you safe… from anyone who dared come between you.

Your time with Aventurine and Ratio was no longer as comforting as it once was, either. They sensed the shift in you. Aventurine’s charming smile had faded into something sharp, his eyes assessing as he caught sight of Argenti and Boothill’s names in your messages. Ratio’s typical aloofness twisted into jealousy, his usual intellectual grace tempered by a fiercer intensity.

One evening, as you arrived home, you found Aventurine and Ratio waiting. Ratio was seated calmly, but his piercing gaze was anything but passive. Aventurine leaned casually against the wall, his fingers twitching as if he longed to reach out to you—or hold onto you, tightly.

“We’ve been worried.” Aventurine said with a soft smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Ratio inclined his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Tell me, have you… made some new friends?”

The question caught you off guard, and you stammered out a response. But their knowing expressions only confirmed the suspicion that had been growing in both of them.

That night, they wouldn’t let you go. Aventurine’s once-teasing nature had turned possessive, his charming smile a mask for the tension simmering beneath. Ratio was no different, wrapping his arm around you, his touch firmer than usual, as if reminding you that you belonged to them. They held you close, more than ever before, but their embrace now felt like a cage, one you couldn’t escape.

And just as you thought you had nowhere to turn, there came a knock on the door. The sound was calm, persistent, carrying a strange sense of finality.

You didn’t need to open it to know who it was. The question that burned in your mind wasn’t if it was Argenti and Boothill waiting outside. It was what they would do now that they had come for you. And with Aventurine and Ratio on the other side, waiting to stake their claim, you realized you were caught in a game where escape might be impossible.

The question was: who would be the first to make their move?

Don't ask for part 2 lmaoo💀

[justporo]

Headcanons about living with Astarion

I thought about some of this lately and since yesterday's warmup got out of hand... (Behold him lounging:)

First things first, if you think living with Astarion will be neat and organised just because he himself always looks put well together: you are in for a surprise

This man - as much as he cares for aesthetics - tends to be messy

Especially since it's been forever that he could actually have and keep stuff, so expect books everywhere, cups left on surfaces, stuff laying around on the floor (and let's be honest, growing up as a noble before didn't teach him anything about being domestic...)

He'll learn though, especially when you reach a point where you could almost throw stuff at him (but he still struggles with it and him buying so many books surely doesn't help)

Astarion is basically cat: lounging everywhere - no surface is safe! Although a comfy sofa or chaiselongue are preferred spots!

Especially when you've sat somewhere and it's still nice and warm and smells of you; "Was that your seat, darling? Well, not anymore!"

But then he would pull you in with a chuckle and have you cuddle up on his lap and also refuse to let you go ("Love, I've only just gotten comfortable, you can't leave now!")

What he lacks in order he makes up with style - to a point it might make your blood boil: "Astarion, please, I couldn't care less if the red of the drapes matches the pillow cases!" "Yes, well, darling - don't take it personally - but I wouldn't have expected you to care anyway." Then he has to dodge several pillows being flung at his head)

Astarion leaves little notes for you to find, like for example if he's gone to run some errands or maybe just because - to tell you he loves you; at some point it kind of becomes a game of him hiding notes somewhere in the house and waiting how long you take to find them - scolding you if you take too long! ("My sweet, a trained donkey would have found it by now! Open your eyes, love, you can't possibly be that distracted by my beautiful face!")

Astarion learns about companionable silence with you - obviously he's very chatty and you love nights just wasted away with talking and joking - about everything and anything; but he also learns how pleasant it can be to just sit there, all cozied up with you and feeling the deep peace of easy silence with you

That or spending some quality time together: him spending time with reading or doing embroidery, you with drawing, also reading or anything else - as long as you're together

At least for a while Astarion really enjoys having a place where he can just... be; obviously this eager little vampire can't sit still forever but he revels in the knowledge of having a place he can always return to, somewhere to be safe and comfy, somewhere he can always be with you

Alright - at least that's how I could very well imagine living with Astarion might be, hihi. This man keeps living in my head - by now I'm sure he's changed my brain chemistry forever, for good...

[luvf4ngz]

HOT LOVE ON THE WING - jason todd.

Descripton: You’re not upset about your most recent breakup; you’re just upset you have no one to fuck anymore. Good thing your Shakespeare loving best friend, Jason, has a solution to that.

Contents: This Bad Boy Is PACKED With Shakespeare References, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cheating (Not By Jason Or Reader), You And Jason Are Absolute Fucking DORKS, Good Friend Jason Todd, Best Friend Jason Todd, Self-Indulgent, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Female Reader, HEAVY Banter, Hair-pulling, Vaginal Fingering, Squirting, Overstimulation :), Pet Names, Praise Kink, Dacryphilia, Soft Jason Todd, Dom Jason Todd, Missionary Position, Doggy Style, Cowgirl Position, Nipple Play, Spanking, Rough Sex, Dumbification, Fucked Stupid, Unrealistic Sex, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Spit/Drool, Goofy Giggly Sex, But Also Hard and Fast Sex, Jason Destroys Your Spiderman Panties :(

Word Count: 3131

Author's Note: If it wasn't obvious from the tags this is a repost from my AO3 hehe. This is genuinely my favorite fic I've ever written, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do :) <3

“It’s okay, pretty girl. You can take it, can’t you? You made a big show of defying me earlier, put your money where your mouth is - right?”

You threw open the door to his dorm, instantly honing in on his bed and diving into the soft plush. Jason is sitting at his desk, looking up at you from his book with a roll of his eyes at your dramatic entrance. 

“Well, hello to you too.” His tone is dripping with sarcasm, but his smile betrays his facade. “It’s nice to see you again, stranger. How long has it been, hm?” He teases, his words alluding to the fact that you’ve been spending less time with him lately in favor of being with your “new boy toy” - as he put it.

You let out a hum into the comforter before moving to your side to properly look at him. “Well I think you’ll be very happy to hear that I’m all yours again, Todd, so there’s no need to be jealous.” You cheekily reply. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyebrows knit together in confusion. You thought it made him look adorable.

“I broke up with my ‘boy toy’, as you so politely called him.” You giggled out, using your fingers as quotation marks for emphasis. 

“What!? What happened?” Jason’s eyes widened at the news you so casually dropped.

“Apparently he’s been cheating on me for some time. My friend showed me some pictures of him shoving his tongue down some girl’s throat at a party so I broke it off with him this morning. Anyways, what’s been going on in Jay-Land?” You grin widely as you gaze at him from the bed.

Your attempt at changing the topic of conversation went unsuccessful. 

Jason sat up from his spot, setting his book down before hurriedly making his way over to you, settling down beside you on the bed.

“Are you okay?”

“Don’t I seem okay to you? I’m just fine, dude.” You tried to reassure him, your voice unwavering and relaxed as your eyes followed him.

“I mean, I guess; but I thought you really liked him.” 

“It seems like you want me to be sad over this. What do you want me to say? ‘Tears seven times salt burn the sense and virtue from mine eyes!’” You gasp out the line dramatically, bringing a hand to cover your heart and the other to wipe non-existent tears from your face, before bursting out into giggles. 

“Don’t you go quoting Shakespeare at me! That’s my role in this friendship!” Jason playfully nudges your shoulder as a wide grin breaks out on his own face.

“The Jason doth protest too much, methinks.” You do your best to put on a snooty tone, but your laughter prevents it. 

“Oh, shut up.” 

Another round of cackles start up between the two of you, and you both relish in the comfortable silence that falls after. 

“You know,” You start, breaking the silence and making Jason’s head turn towards you. “There is one thing I’m sad about.”

“What?”

“His dick game was mad good.” You say with an extravagant sigh. “I’m gonna miss it.” You fake a few sniffles.

“Aw, come on now. There’s other dick out there.” 

“Nah, it’s too much work. I’ll just have to survive without it for now. ‘But I have that within which passeth show; these but the trappings and the suits of woe.’”

“I can’t believe he’s got you so cock-drunk that you’re quoting Hamlet.” Jason tsks out in false disapproval. “He’s not good enough to be depressed for.”

“He’s not, but the sex definitely was.” 

“It couldn’t have been that good.”

“It was.”

“Not better than what I could do though.”

“Ehhhhhh…” You squinch your face together in overplayed disbelief, causing him to fix you with a sharp glare and a hurt gasp. 

“Is that a challenge?” He smirked, his eyes narrowing in competitiveness. 

“I know it not ‘seems’.” 

“You cheeky motherfucker.” Jason smiles out before grabbing your waist and throwing you further up the bed. It causes you to let out a startled yelp as Jason moved to hover over your body.

“Oh? You gonna prove it to me, Todd? You must be overcompensating for something if you get this riled up over such a small comment. You know, if you wanted to fuck me - you could have just asked.”

“Funny, I was about to say the exact same thing.” He leans in to bite your neck, making your body jolt against his.

“Hey! Play nice, Todd.” You scold, slapping his shoulder before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’m ever so sorry, madam.” He fake pouts before attacking your face with kisses. 

“Stop!” You squeal out, giggles erupting uncontrollably from the ticklish sensation. You move your hands to his chest, pushing him away from you. “Are you ever gonna get on with it, or are you just gonna keep messing around?”

“That’s a fair thought: to lie between maids’ legs.” 

“Ugh, it doesn’t sound as good when you do it.” 

“Excuse you? I’m a Shakespeare quoting champ!” 

“You’re awfully defensive today, Todd.” You note with a grin. 

“Keep talking, princess, see what happens.” He jokingly warns. 

He pulls back from you to pull his shirt over his head, before going to tug at his pants. You follow after him, sitting up to discard your own clothing. Once you both are left in your underwear, Jason pushes you flat against the bed again. 

“Spiderman panties. Cute.” 

“Shut up. It’s not like I planned for this to happen.” You grumbled out at his observation. You forgot about them and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“Mhm, sure, sweetheart.”

Jason starts planting sloppy kisses on your skin, trailing his way down your body until he’s reached your waistband. He shuffles down the bed and lies down between your legs, leaning in to snatch the fabric of your underwear between his teeth and ripping it off your legs. 

“Jay! I liked that pair!”

“My bad, princess, I’ll be sure to buy you some new ones.”

“Better still be spiderman.”

“I’m more Team Cap.” He disserts before gripping your thighs and dragging your core closer to his face; the back of your calves rest on his shoulders. 

His eyes drag down your glistening pussy before he lets out a loud wolf whistle at the sight.

“Ew, Todd!” You laugh, trying to kick him for the action but the hold he has on you is too tight to allow movement. 

“What? I’m just appreciating the view.”

He dips his head down, tongue flicking at your hooded clit before he wraps his lips and around the bud and sucks. He feels your thighs tighten around his head as your own tilts up to let out a loud moan. He replaces his tongue with his fingers, expertly working the nub in circles as he peers up at you. 

Your head is turned to the side, eyes clenched and lips spilling shaky whines. 

‘A damn nice sight’, if he did say so himself.

He continues to stimulate your clit with his thumb, pressing his tongue to your dripping hole to lap up your arousal. 

“Fuck, Jason! You really know how to put the money where your mouth is,” You mumble into the sheets, hips bucking up every once in a while from the pleasure. 

Jason grips you tighter, preventing you from moving. He briefly looks up to note “I think you’ll find I know how to use my mouth quite well”, before moving to continue eating you out.

His actions are faster, more feverous. His tongue runs up and down your sex, your slick coating his taste buds. He savors it - lets out a deep hum that reverberates through your pussy and up your spine, sending shivers through your body. He sucks and slurps at you, so passionate that you swear you can feel your soul escaping through your cunt. The wet smacks do nothing but turn you on more, your thighs pressing closer to his head and acting as earmuffs. 

Your hands move from their place bunched in his sheets to his hair, tanging the dark locks between your fingers and instinctively tugging. It causes a low groan to tear from his throat, the bass and depth of it fueling the uncontrollable hot ache in your stomach. That only makes you want to do it again. The second tug makes a sound that’s akin to a growl, before Jason pauses his movements to stare up at you.

“Careful, princess. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.” 

It’s a sight to behold. Jason: heaving, eyes blown, his face shiny from your smeared slick. His mouth is open, panting - his gaze refusing to leave contact with yours. There’s mischief glimmering in the depth of his eyes. 

You don’t reply - only smirk, and yank his head closer to your sex again. 

“Oh, you’ve done it now.” 

His hand moves from your clit to your dripping hole, two fingers pushing their way inside you. His lips reattach to your clit as he starts to move his fingers - fast and rough and leaving you no time to adjust to his intrusion. 

“J-Jesus fuck!” He can feel your thighs twitching, can feel your fingers gripping onto his hair hard in response, and it only spurs him on more. 

His palm smacks against your cunt with each hit, splattering your slick. His fingers move at an unfathomable speed, pads searching for that one spot inside you that will make you see white. 

You’re whimpering and whining above him, senses overwhelmed at Jason’s rough ministrations. It’s too much: the pressure building inside you. It feels like you’re on the edge, senses ready to fall into a never-ending pit of endorphins and fear and exhilaration. There are fireworks inside you, lit and ready to burst and fry all of your sensibilities. 

Finally, it happens - what Jason’s been waiting for. With a slightly tilted angle of his hand and a curl of his fingers, he finds it. He knows because you suddenly tense up; because you let out the most angelic, strung-out moan he’s ever heard; because your walls clamp down on his fingers and a jet of tangy, sweet liquid hits his awaiting tongue. 

God he wishes he could watch you cum over and over and over. He’s gonna think back to this moment when he’s fucking his fist in the future - that’s for sure. The view of you - back arched, eyes teary. The sensation of you - warm and wet and tight against his digits. The sound of you - desperate and high pitched and wailing out his name. He wants it all burned into his brain.

“Jason, Jason!” Yeah, that’s the sound of heaven alright. “Jay! Stop! I came- I can’t!”

Hm?

Oh. He hasn’t stopped pumping his fingers inside you. Oh, well.

“It’s okay, pretty girl. You can take it, can’t you? You made a big show of defying me earlier, put your money where your mouth is - right?”

God, you’re shaking. You look like a leaf shivering in the wind, or a cat left out in the rain. Your eyes are glossy and teary and fuck. You look so beautiful falling apart for him. 

Your brain is in shambles, screaming and begging for a reprieve. It’s dizzying, the assault of your sensations. All you can hear, think, feel is Jason.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please!”

“Come on, princess. Just let go. Just one more for me, yeah?”

You can’t tell if the second orgasm hits you like a train or slowly drowns you in its weight. Maybe a mix of both - a crashing of a tsunami that simultaneously relieves your ache and steals your breath. 

You’re sobbing, trembling, gasping for breath and trying to regain feeling from the clouds that seem to have replaced your nerves. 

“You did so well.” Jason cooes. He’s sitting up, suckling your juices from his fingers like you were a decadent 5-star meal.

He moves to lay down beside you, pulling your body to curl into his, back to peppering your cheeks with chaste, affectionate kisses. 

“Fuck, Jason.” You heave out, still slightly out of it. 

“Was that okay? Did I get carried away?” He questions softly, concern lacing the green in his eyes. 

“Yeah, no, that was great.” You quickly reassure him. “I just- wow. I need a moment.” 

He chuckles quietly before holding you close to his body again. “So? Did I exceed your expectations?”

“Don’t get cocky. Hubris was the downfall of Macbeth.” You shuffle closer to him. “Speaking of cocky, is that a dagger - or are you just happy to see me?”

“I’m always happy to see you princess,” Jason croons. “but I am extremely rock hard right now, too.”

Your hands drift down his body, sensually tracing every muscle from his chest to his pelvis, before tugging off his boxers.

You swing your body on top of his, straddling his waist as you begin pumping his cock. 

“Well then” You start, positioning yourself on top of his awaiting member, “O’ happy dagger, this is thy sheath…”

You start to sink down on him as you finish the quote, your words trailing off into a wanton moan. 

“I’d yell at you for saying something so stupid if you weren’t fucking squeezing my cock right now.” Jason manages to huff out. His teeth are gritted, eyes shut as he tries not to cum at the sensation of you wrapped warm and tight around him. 

His large hands settle on your waist as yours plant themselves on his chest for support. 

“You have to admit, it’s clever wordplay.” You mewl, mind fuzzy from the sensation of his dick stretching you out. 

Tingles shoot up your body as the pain dissolves into a delicious fullness. You crave friction, your very core feels like it's aching for it. In fact, you think you’ll go insane if you don’t start moving right now. 

You carefully lift your hips up, before dropping back down again, repeating the motion over and over until you’ve built up a somewhat regular rhythm. 

Moans ceaselessly flow from your lips, interspersed with mumbled swears and curses.

Your head is tipped forward, your hair falling into your face. Jason’s hand comes up to brush it back behind your ear, before gently cupping your cheek.

“You feel so good baby, fuck.” He grunts.

His other hand comes up to undo your bra, releasing your tits to him. Both palms move to cup them, kneading at the soft flesh before working your perked nipples with his fingers. 

You still your movements with a whine, too confounded by the assault of stimulations you were feeling. That doesn’t mean that you’re not still desperate and yearning, though. Your thighs do their best to rub against each other, trying to chase friction despite your inaction. 

It’s only as you rest that you feel how sore your legs have become, enough that you let out a pitiful mewl. 

“Is my pretty baby tired?” Jason muses, while he’s still pinching and rolling your sensitive buds. 

“Mhm,” You moan out in reply. 

He quickly rolls the both of you over, laying you down onto your back again before flipping you onto your stomach. 

You quickly shuffle onto your knees, arching back against him in wait. 

“Good girl,” He laughs out. His palms rub against your cheeks, squeezing the flesh there before pulling back and giving it a slap. 

It earns him a broken moan from your throat, and the view of your ass shaking in desperation.

It only makes him laugh again. “Have some patience, naughty girl.”

He spanks you again, and you keen so high-pitched and pretty that he can only relent to your demands. 

Jason grips his cock and guides it to your wet folds, sliding it up and down before finally pushing in. You welcome him easily, pussy molding perfectly to his thick cock. 

A hand settles on your waist while the other tangles into your hair. He yanks your head back as he starts fucking you hard and fast. 

His hips smack hard against your ass with each thrust, slowly turning the skin there sore and heated. His cock is bullying its way in and out of you, the tip knocking against your sweet spot with a force that repeatedly knocks the breath and thoughts out of you. 

Your eyes are rolled back, brain melted, as drool drips from your lips. 

Chants of “fuck” and “Jay” are the only sounds your mouth remembers how to make now. 

“Just keep saying my name like that, sweetheart.” Jason pants out. 

He can’t believe how good you feel around him. You’re so warm and wet that his cock glides in and out so easy, making it effortless for him to abuse your poor cunt. 

The hand in your hair guides you up to him, back pressed against his sweaty chest as he tilts your head and leans in for a kiss. 

It’s messy with your spit and drool, both your movements uncoordinated and sloppy. 

He fucks up into you all the while, gravity allowing him to hit harder and deeper inside you.

He can feel that you’re close again - your body is twitching against him, your cunt beginning to spasm. 

The hand on your waist reaches to rub quick and hard circles against your clit, and you’re gone.

Your whole body shudders as you soak his cock, before going limp is his hold. It’s an intense buzzing sensation that overtakes you, settling deep in your veins until you’re trapped in a pleasing static. Your head is submerged in sticky syrup that makes it hard to think, so you just indulge in the calming weight of it. 

Jason pulls out and gently maneuvers your dazed body back to the bed, hand working himself to completion before finishing on your stomach - his warm cum splattering on the skin as he lets out a husky grunt.

He stays there, catching his breath for a few moments before he disappears to the bathroom while you come down from your high, washing his hands and grabbing a damp towel to bring back to you. 

He wipes you clean before poking your cheek until your gaze refocuses on him.

“How was it?” He cheekily smirks. 

“I certainly died a lovely death in thy lap,” You chuckle.

“If you can still quote Shakespeare I didn’t fuck you dumb enough.” Jason frowns.

“Awh, cheer up, you big baby.” You reach out to pat his head endearingly, “I change my mind; your dick game is definitely better.”

“YES!” Jason fist-pumps like he just scored a touch-down and you smile at how stupid he looks. “Okay, now you go pee.” He shoos you away. “I’ll change the sheets and we can watch reruns of Gossip Girl again.”

“I would not wish any companion in the world but you.” You fake tear-up, wiping your eyes before giggling the whole way to the bathroom. 

Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3

- sumi ☆ミ

ミ☆ masterlist

[sturniqlo]

WAIT FOR YOU- CHRIS STURN

summary: Chris leads Y/n on and things don't end well between them. What happens when they cross paths again but she's not ready anymore?

cw: angst, cursing

an: this is a favorite of mine, hope you enjoy:)

masterlist

-----------------------------------------------

"Hey Chris!" Y/n says as Chris opens the front door to let her in. "Hey, Y/n." He gives her a side hug as she enters the house, closing the door during the hug. "Know what you wanna do today?" Chris asks as he leads her up the stairs to enter the kitchen. "Mm, thought we could go shopping? Maybe eat lunch while we're at it?" She leans against the island.

"Sounds good, let me go get changed really quickly." He says as he runs off to his room. Y/n stays in the kitchen, pulling up a chair and scrolls on her phone. If Matt or Nick were here, she would be hanging out with them while she waited for Chris. After less than ten minutes Chris enters the kitchen once again. "Ready?" She turns on the phone and get up. "Let's go."

"Hey! I told you if you wanted fries and you said no." She whines as she sees Chris grab a handful of her fries. "Sharing is caring, pretty sure Paula showed you that." He refers to her mom. "Whatever," She rolls her eyes. "I have something to tell you later." She says, feeling nervous. "Can I know now?" She shakes her head at his question. "Fine, I think I can wait."

"What time do you have to be home to film?" She asks as she puts the car in drive. The triplets had started their youtube channel not that long ago, and they quickly got a following and became popular after graduation which was about a month ago. "In like fifteen minutes." Chris shrugs. "Fifteen? Why didn't you tell me? We're like thirty minutes away." Chris grabs her hand resting on the arm rest. She starts to feel those butterflies in her tummy anytime he touches her. "Wanted to spend more time with you."

As Y/n pulled up to Chris' house. She parks the car and looks at Chris so she can tell him the news. "So," Chris cuts her off. "Y/n, can I tell you something?" Y/n nods. "Sure, anything." Chris sighs before he begins. "I know we've been hanging out a lot lately, and I've noticed that you've seen me more as a friend, but I don't feel the same way. And I'm sorry if I made it seem like I felt the same way, I just didn't want you to feel embarrassed that I wasn't showing the same emotions back." Her heart sinks and her ears start ringing.

"What?" She says in disbelief. "Y/n," He starts again, and tries to grab her hand, but she pulls her hand away. "Chris, no. Are- are you serious? You knew I had feelings for you, so you decided to play along and just mess with my feelings? Do you know how fucked up that is? I- I can't believe this." Her eyes start welling up with tears. "How could you do something like that? You could've just told me when you first noticed and I would've back off. I would've preferred that more than your stupid ass game."

"Y/n it wasn't a game." He sighs, feeling his heart break each time he saw her wipe a tear that he caused. "Get out my car, Chris." She turns to look out at her window, she couldn't even look at him anymore. "Y/n, let's talk about it, please?" Chris pleads, but it doesn't mean anything to her anymore. "Chris, seriously, get out of my car. I can't be around you right now." Her tears are coming down so fast she can barely wipe them as they fall down to her neck, leaving streaks of mascara down her cheeks.

After what feels like hours, she hears Chris unbuckle the seat belt and collect his shopping bags from the floor then opening the car door and getting out. Finally, she looks over at him and sees that his eyes are glossed. "Don't you dare try to contact me or use any of our friends to reach me and don't come to my house. I'm done with you and our friendship." She grabs the car door and slams it. She quickly puts the car in parks and drives off.

As much as Chris wants to chase after her car like a damn dog, he stands frozen in place. His heart aching more by the second, and every second that passes by he wishes his commitment issue hadn't gotten in the way. Now he has lost his best friend.

It must've been a while that he stood there. The sound of tires on the gravel making him look up, only hoping that it's Y/n returning to talk to him. To listen to him. It didn't help that both Matt and Y/n's car were black and almost looked like the same model. He only realized that it was Matt and Nick from the way Matt beeped at him.

"The fuck you standing out here for?" Nick says as he rolls the window down sipping on his Dr.Pepper. "I just fucked up in the worst way possible. I broke her. Fuck." He puts his hands on his eyes and throws his head back and sighs. Nick knew what Chris was talking about. He had told his weeks prior that leading her on wasn't the smartest idea. But, he never listened to him. "Nick, take him inside. I'll park the car and head inside." Nick gets out of the car and picks up Chris' bags off the ground and wraps his arm around Chris' shoulders to take him inside.

"Fuck, Nick. I- I should've listened to you." Nick shushes him. "Hey, we'll talk about it in a bit. Why don't you cool down a bit, okay?"

It took Chris about an hour to calm down and collect his thought before he could tell his brothers what had happened. During the hour of silence, Nick snuck some texts to Y/n even after Chris told him not to. Knowing that she said specifically to not use them to try and contact her. However, Nick was contacting her for himself. After all, she was a friend to all three. Matt just laid back on the couch and put his hands on his forehead. Just thinking about how if she doesn't want to talk to Chris, she doesn't want to talk to all three of them. And also thinking about how he lost a friend.

After telling them everything that happened, Matt didn't hesitate to call his every name in the book. Idiot, Son of a bitch, Dumbass, Stupid, Dickhead. You name it. Matt didn't know any of this was happening on Chris' part. He knew Y/n had a crush on Chris and the way he saw Chris with her, he thought he felt the same way. But, Matt was wrong.

The two boys kept telling him to go to her house. Matt offered to drive him. But, Chris always reminded them of the part where she said to not go to her house. "Okay, how about you just give her a week or two. And then go to her house and talk it out. And during that time, me and Nick will text her to see how she's doing." Matt suggested and Chris liked the idea.

Over the next fourteen days, Chris' daily life consisted of waking up, eating, laying back in bed, scrolling through pictures of himself and Y/n, shower, eat, and sleep. Nick and Matt tried to reach Y/n every other day to not annoy her as much. Nick asked her to hang out a couple of times but she always politely with being busy and getting ready for college. Y/n was the only one out of all four of them to apply to colleges as she wanted to major in marketing. Nick asked her what college she chose but she always left him on read.

The triplets had known that she applied to many colleges, both in-state and out of state. She didn't tell them which ones because she didn't want to get her hopes up if she felt particularly about one school.

On the fourteenth day, Chris decided to head to Y/n's house. In the morning, he walked into Matt's room and asked if he could get a ride more later to Y/n's house. Of course, he said yes. Given the fact that he wants Chris to fix this situation he caused. Then came six o'clock. The sun was unfortunately starting to set. Chris kept stalling whenever Matt came into his room and asked if he was ready. "The sun is going down for fuck sakes. If you don't get your ass in the car in ten minutes i'm not taking you whenever you ask again." He leaves and shuts the door. Chris looked himself in the mirror, his under eye bags had gotten bad. His hair was messy, he hadn't shaved his somewhat of a stubble. He looked a mess.

When Matt was getting fed up in the car he went to turn off the car but he saw Chris come out the house. "I'm nervous." Chris says has he gets in the car, pulling his hood on. "Just- I don't even know what to tell you, honestly."

The fifteen minute car ride was silent the whole way. Chris' leg kept on bouncing and he kept picking at his fingers. "It's your time to shine, buddy." Matt padded his shoulder. Since there was no parking in front of her house, he parked at the beginning of her block. "If she slaps you, you deserved it and I don't blame her. But, whatever she says you have to respect her decision. Good or bad. You really went low with this one." He unlocked and turned off the car. "I'll see you in a bit."

As Chris began to walk to her house, he couldn't get the image of her crying out of his head. He'd never made her cry. He'd only ever seen her cry once when her childhood dog passed away a couple years ago. He saw her car in the driveway and knew she was home. He took a deep breath before going up her stairs. It took him a minute or two before ringing the doorbell and knocking on the door. He waited there for a minute. Chris started to believe that Y/n saw him standing out there from her home cameras and chose not to open the door.

"Respect her decision. Good or bad." He replays Matt's words over and over in his head. He snapped out of his trance as he heard footsteps approaching the door and unlocking it from the inside. As the door opens he's met with Y/n dad, Ryan. Fuck. He thinks. Y/n's dad is really protective of her and he wouldn't be surprised if Ryan just punched him across the face.

"Christopher." He never called him his full name. Always Chris or son. "Hey," He pauses. "Is Y/n home?" Chris says. Ryan furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "No, she's not." Now Chris is confused. "But, her car is here. I'm sorry, I haven't spoken to her since that day." He mentions and her dad hums. "Ah, yes. She told me about that. Just to let you know, I'm not mad at you and neither is Paula, trust me. You two are still young and are learning about love and everything. I know you two will find your way back to each other." His words make Chris' shoulders sink in relief. "But, I have some bad news for you, Son." Here it comes. She doesn't ever want to see him again. Ever. "I don't think she told you did she?" Chris looks at him weird. "About what?"

"She chose her college two days before going last saw her. I'm guessing she never told you when you two last saw eachother." He says the same thing again. "She told me a couple of weeks ago she was thinking of choosing Boston University because she got accepted." Did she leave for college already? Was she currently unpacking her dorm? "Chris, she left for California, she got accepted into UCLA. She's on the plane already." His heart sinks and he feels like can throw up at any moment. "What? Nick- he spoke to her yesterday. He didn't tell me this." Chris says.

"I'm sorry, son. Maybe you can call her when she lands? But, it'll be pretty late. It'll be twelve over there and three am here." Chris sighs. "I- I have to go. I'm sorry about everything, really. I'll see you around." Chris tries to hold back his tears. "Take care of yourself, Chris." He walks down the few steps and power walks to the car.

"She left, Matt." Chris startles Matt as he came out of nowhere. "What?" Matt drops his phone on his lap. "Did you know about this? Did Nick tell you?" He yells. "Chill out! No, I didn't know about this. Nick knows?" Chris gets into the car and pulls out his phone to call Nick. "Where did she leave to?"

"She got accepted into UCLA, she was going to tell me that day and I stopped her from it. Fuck." He tells Matt. "Holy shit."

"Nick, did you know that Y/n left for California and didn't tell us two?" Chris spits out as soon as Nick picks up the phone. "Wait, wait, what?" Nick yells. "I didn't know about this. I know I was texting her but she only mentioned college not what college, holy shit."

A YEAR LATER

It had been a year since Chris had last saw Y/n. Over the first month of not having Y/n by his side, he realized he had actually felt the same way about her. He tried to call her that same night he spoke with her dad but she didn't pick up. Weeks after weeks, all three of them tried to call. She didn't answer anybody. Not even Nick. They were all devastated that she had went no contact with them but they respected her choice. She had her reasons and they didn't question it.

The triplets had moved to LA in hopes of boosting their careers as content creators. But, the thought of Y/n being in the same city as Chris was always in the back of his mind. Any place he went, he always looked for her. Every restaurant, store, party, park. Everywhere. Chris had tried to move on, but he just couldn't.

It wasn't until one day where Nick had went out on his walk and stumbled upon a smoothie shop. He went in curious about the new place that had opened ten minutes from their LA home. Has he waited in line and placed his order, he took a seat on a bench near the window. He heard the chime of the bells that hung over there. As always he looked to see who had walked in. And his eyes almost came out their sockets. It was Y/n.

Although her hair was dyed from black to brown, and she was wearing sun glasses. He recognized her small tattoo she had on her arm, a little star. He stared at her like a hawk. His childhood best friend who he hadn't heard from in a year stood in line in the same smoothie shop ten minutes from his shared home with his brothers.

He wanted to make sure it was actually her. He hoped that she would take her sunglasses off of her face. A couple of seconds later, she rested her glasses on top of her head and he spotted that tiny mole she had near her eye. She went towards the back of the shop and sat down placing her bag on the table taking out her Macbook. When the barista called out his order he grabbed it and sat back down on the bench. Contemplating if he should go up to her.

He sent Matt a quick message. Not sending one to Chris because he know he will check Nicks location and sprint to see Y/n.

nick

you'll NEVER guess who's at the smoothie shop!!!

matt

smoothie shop?

nick

it's Y/N

matt

y/n??? as in y/n, Y/N??

nick

what other y/n do we know? should i go up to her? idk what to do HELP!!

DONT TELL CHRIS

matt

yes go up to her!!

and no i won't tell chris

After sipping on his smoothie and nervously biting his straw. Nick gets the courage to go up to her. "Y/n?" He stand in front of her table. "Nick?" She gasps and smiles. "Oh my god! What are you doing here?" She stands up, he places his smoothie down and gives her a hug. "I live like ten minutes from here!" Nick says. "You guys ended up moving to LA?" She pulls away with a smile on her face. "Yeah! We got here about three months ago." Y/n hugs him one more time. She couldn't believe it was Nick.

"Sit, sit with me. If you're not in a rush, that is." She sits back down and Nick pulls out the chair in front of him. "Not at all." They chat for a while, ignoring that one question Nick is wanting to ask. But eventually he asks. "I don't want to ruin the mood or anything but, what happened? Not with you know who but getting up and leaving all of a sudden?" He says. She sighs, putting her smoothie down. "I was going to tell you guys. I was actually going to tell Chris that night but then you know what happened. I had- It was a spur in the moment, I guess? I wasn't supposed to leave until the end of August. But, I needed time to focus on myself and I just thought to come here and get used to the place I'll be in for a couple of years."

"And I know you guys were probably calling me, but, shit, you won't believe this but my phone got stolen right when I landed here. Some idiot on a bike swiped my phone from my hand when I saw the calls from all three of you. So I had to text my parents from a strangers phone. And I lost all my contacts, my social media passwords and everything." She sighed. "And I didn't memorize anyone's number besides my parents'."

"Oh shit, that would've been my last straw." Nick said. "Trust me, it was. I broke down on the phone with my mom and she actually flew out here the next day while she got me an uber to my hotel." After what feels like hours of catching up. Nick has to leave. "I have to go now." He pouts, looking at the time on his phone. They had been talking for three hours considering that it was now nearing one in the afternoon. "That's fine, here give me your phone, I'll give you my number." He hands her his phone and she goes to look for her contact. She replaces her old phone number with her new one.

"Here, I replaced my old number with my new one." He puts it back in his pocket. "Thanks, I'll text you first thing when I get home. And, is it okay if I told Chris that I ran into you?" He picks up his empty smoothie cup. "Sure, I don't hold anything against him anymore, and honesty I've gotten over him and the whole situation. I understand where he was coming from." She also grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder. Nicks heart breaks a bit for Chris but understands where Y/n is coming from.

"Oh- well I'm glad you're doing better now. Let's try and plan a hangout soon?" They both walk out the shop together. "Definitely! Well, I'm going this way." She points to the right. "And I'm going that way." Nick points to the left. "I'll keep in touch." Y/n leans in for one more hug. "Me too. See you soon."

Nick had a pep in his step as he walked back home. He kept replaying his conversation with Y/n. He just couldn't belive she was back in his life. When he stepped foot inside the house. He saw Chris on the couch. "Where were you? I thought you went on a walk?" Chris asks. "I bumped into someone." For a second, Y/n crossed over Chris' mind. But that would be impossible, right? "Oh? Who?" He turns his phone off. "Y/n," Chris' heart starts to beat fast. "Y/n? As in Y/n, Y/n?" He had the same reaction Matt did. "Yes, I ran into her at a smoothie shop and I hung out with her for a couple of hours." Chris couldn't believe it.

"Was- was she okay? Did she say anything about me? Does she hate me? Does she look different?" Chris rambled. "Chill, Chris. I'll tell you everything, but what she said about you. I think you have to hear it from her not me." Nick was right. Close to the living room, Matt had heard Nick's voice and hopped out of his bed. "Nick! How was it? Does she hate us?" Matt asks. "No, she doesn't hate us." Chris is confused. "Matt you knew?"

"Yes, but he told me not to tell you. Knowing you'd track him and show up in front of them." He explained. Chris agreed. He knew he would've made a fool of himself. "Did you get her number?" Nick nods. "We're going to plan something to hand out. I'll ask if she wants to hang out with all three of us."

Two weeks had passed since Nick ran into Y/n, they've texted everyday and gotten used to their old habits of before a year ago. Nick tried to hang out with her the week after they ran into each other but she had a busy schedule with her classes, exams, and her paid internship. But, she had a free day this next week, which is today.

She pulled up in front of the triplets house and knocked on the door waiting for an answer. A couple of seconds passed by and she heard loud footsteps coming. The door opened and revealed Matt. "Matt!" She smiles, pulling him into a hug. "Y/n! Oh my god! I missed you." He hugs her tightly. Pulling away, he moves from the door to let her in. "Nice place." She compliments as she enters the living room area. "Thanks." They both catch up a bit, her telling him everything that had happened a year ago.

"Where's everyone?" She asks. "I think they're showering, I know Nick was in there for a while." He says. Still, he can't believe Y/n is right in front of him. After a couple of minutes, Matt hears his phone ring from his room. "Shit, I'll be back."

Y/n sits in their kitchen alone, on her phone when she hears someone coming up the stairs. She looks to her left and sees Chris. Chris also sees her and freezes. Her hair is brown is the first thing he notices before he notices the smile on her face. "Hey, Chris." She stands up, Chris walking towards her. "Y/n, I- I can't believe you're actually here. Oh my gosh." He automatically pulls her into a hug.

"How- how've you been?" He asks as he pulls away, looking into her eyes. "I've been good. My internship has been kicking my ass, but the pay is too good to quit. And school is school. How about you? How have you been?" She asks. "I've been good, yeah. We've been filming a lot. I came out with a clothing brand called Fresh Love. That's been exciting." She gasps. "Really? That's so cool, I'll have to see it."

They both stare at each other, still can't believe that they're talking again. "Y/n!" Nick breaks their silent moment. Chris turns around and clears his throat. "Hey, Nick." Matt eventually comes back from his phone call and all four of them catch up for about an hour. They then decide to go to a restaurant for lunch. As they go downstairs towards the garage Y/n speaks as Chris quickly goes back up to the kitchen to grab something. "Do you mind if I use the bathroom?" Nick and Matt nod. "You can use Chris' it's in his room." Nick points to the closed door. "We'll be in the car."

Y/n opens the door and sees Chris' room. He doesn't have much. But, she spots a framed picture of herself and Chris from their graduation placed on his nightstand. She quickly spots the bathroom and enters, closing the door behind her. Chris comes down the stairs and sees that his room door is open and is confused. Suddenly he hears his bathroom door opening and closing. He peeps inside and sees Y/n walk out from there, startling her. "Oh! You scared me. Sorry, Nick said I could use your restroom." She says. "It's fine. Hey, can I talk to you real quick?"

She nods. "I know I was a dick last year with everything that went down. And- and I had a lot of time to process everything that we went through and I realized that I had feelings for you all along. My commitment issue got in the way, and I hate that they did." Her heart breaks a bit. "Chris, I'm sorry but, I'm not ready for a relationship anymore. I also had a lot of this to process everything and I realized that I needed to focus on myself more and start fresh. Which is why I wanted to eventually tell you that I just wanted to be friends for now. And just see where we end up in a couple of months." Chris' chest pangs. Respect her decision, respect her decision. Matt's voice echos in his head. "O- Oh. Yeah, that's totally fine. i respect your decision, and I see where you're coming from, But, I just want to let you know that I'm in all the way and I'll always wait for you, okay?" He smiles. "Okay." She smiles, a tear slipping from her eye. But Chris quickly wipes it off from her.

"I'll always wait for you."

[alwaysanundertone]

Why try? | poly! marauders x fem! reader

angst / fluff

CW: brief mention of bully, negative self talk, some cursing (?) I think that’s all :)

word count: 1.4k

note: it’s my first mini series and English is not my first language, just wanted to say so in case you spot any error :)

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4 coming soon

“Why are they dating me?”

That’s the question that kept flashing in your head 24/7 for the past week.

It all started when you were sitting with your group of friends in the Ravenclaw common room. You had just returned from your secret date with the marauders; even though they wanted to love you in public, you didn’t. It was silly, really, but you didn’t want all of the backlash that it would inevitably come from dating them.

You knew, deep down, that if you were to love them in the open, everyone would be confused as to why they chose you. They were the marauders, for god’s sake, even you had doubts about this… thing that you had been going on, god only knows what everyone else would be thinking.

So you invented an excuse. You told them that your brother was protective over you, that you didn’t want to cause them trouble. You could have been spending more time thinking about a better story: your brother couldn’t care less about your wellbeing, let alone who you dated. It didn’t matter what he really thought, though, because they believed the lie.

It hurt to have to lie to the boys that you were growing fond of, but still, years and years of bullying made you this way. You never really viewed yourself as someone worthy of affection, let alone of love. You never really liked your physique, you hated your nose, you wished you had something special about your physical appearance but you couldn’t find it.

Even your personality didn’t seem worthy of being known, or at least you thought so. You were an A-student, but only because you studied hard. You had a lot of hobbies, sure, but you weren’t exactly good at them. All of this to say, you didn’t deem yourself worthy of their attention.

Now you were sitting with your friends, chatting, and of course, of fucking course, they had to start talking about james.

“I really don’t get how he can be so oblivious about my flirting”

This caught your attention. The girl talking wasn’t exactly your friend, however she shared her room with Emmeline, one of your best friends, so she started hanging out with you. Still, you didn’t know about this flirting until now. You chose to listen quietly.

“… I mean, I even went to his game wearing his damn number on my back. What do I have to do in order to get his attention?”

“I don’t know Aurora… Rumor has it they are all dating some new girl, though nobody knows who she is! They saw them hanging around near Hogsmade, but nobody saw her face. I really thought they didn’t want to include anybody in their relationship”

“Another girl?” Both you and Aurora exclaimed at the same time. This. This was a rather embarrassing situation.

“What Y/N? Decided to join the conversation?”

“Yeah, didn’t take you as a marauder fan?”

This is why you should learn to keep your mouth closed.

“What? Am I not allowed to be curious?”

“Yeah, not like they’ll ever consider you.” Em stared at Aurora blankly, you were sure your face was showing every little thought that was slowly, but surely, starting to crawl over your consciousness, making you doubt yourself.

“What? Don’t look at me like I’m the evil guy. It’s nothing personal, Y/N, but you are just a normal girl, they seem like the type to enjoy someone more… special?”

And that’s when the doubting started.

“Yeah… I think I’ll go study now”

You excused yourself, while you clearly heard Em starting to get angry at Aurora, but you just couldn’t take this.

It was one thing to doubt yourself, but if even your friends thought the same of you, maybe you were right, maybe you should just stop bothering them.

You ran to the library, to the farthest corner. Staring at the rain pouring outside your window, you started to do the one thing you were really good at: self loathing.

A hand made you jump.

“Hey there dovey, didn’t mean to scare my girl”

Remus was looking at you with that loopsided grin of his that made your stomach flip. He called you ‘his girl’, even though you weren’t official, your heart swelled.

“Hey Rem” You tried to smile, you really did, but for some reason your facial muscles couldn’t bring themselves to work. His face immediately fell.

“What is going on?”

You could have just told him.

Maybe you should have.

But you really weren’t one to just talk about problems, you preferred to just pretend.

“Nothing! Nothing I- I just-“ You stopped for a moment. Great job, Y/N, you were doing such a great job! You took a deep breath. “Nothing, I’m just a bit stressed about herbology? You know I’m not the best at it”

He seemed to believe you. “Well, we can study together then?”

Again, you should have said yes.

“I’m sorry I just- I mean, we hung out earlier? Aren’t you tired of me?”

He frowned. “No? Why would I be? Sirius and James are napping, I was actually looking for you? I feel like we hardly ever have some alone time together”

You wanted to cry, you wanted to talk about every little doubt crowding your mind. But you couldn’t, your tongue twisted.

“Oh…”

“But I mean, if you want some alone time I understand!

You simply nodded.

“See you around Remus”

“Okay then? See you around?”

He turned, stopping for a minute, likely pondering if he should just go away or stay to talk. He decided to leave.

You fell even further on the armchair, your mind flooded with doubts.

You sat at dinner, exhausted. You have been spending the whole afternoon running through the endless possibilities as to why they were willingly spending their time with you. Were they making fun of you? Were they just bored? None of your answers made you feel any better about yourself.

Now you were staring at your plate.

“Hey Y/N” Em looked quite concerned. “Are you alright?” You nodded, she frowned.

“If it’s Aurora who got you so sad, don’t worry, I kicked her ass”

You snorted at that. “No, don’t worry Em, everything’s alright. You know I get like that when the winter nears”

She nodded. It was exhilarating how everybody seemed to believe your lies.

Throughout the whole dinner, you sensed three pair of eyes burning through your back. You decided you couldn’t stay a minute longer under their scrutiny, pretending to eat, pretending to have fun. You simply stood up, exiting the Great Hall.

A hand grasped yours, making you jump.

“What’s up with you lot today? Trying to induce a heart attack?” James snickered, tugging your wrist and making you end up in his arms.

You noticed Sirius and Remus looking at you, the latter still sporting the frown he had in the library.

“Just wanting to check up on you. Moony here was quite worried about you, said you seemed sad. Is everything alright?” Sirius searched for your eyes, while you looked at your feet. “Did we make you uncomfortable in any way?”

“No, no it’s not that”

That’s it. You really were stupid.

Remus quirked a brow. “So you are sad about something.”

“Well, you know… the rain.”

James looked like he was about to laugh. “Well yes, it rains quite a lot in Scotland?”

“No, I mean I get quite moody when the weather starts to worsen” At that James hugged you.

“You poor thing, you should have told! Wanna come in our dorm and have a cuddle?”

A cuddle did sound nice, but then again the doubts started to flood your mind. They already had to spend time to someone as uninteresting as you, the least you could do was try to not be a burden.

“No, sorry I just want to take a shower and have some alone time, you know?”

They seemed worried. James looked like a lost puppy, not understanding why you were so suddenly trying to create space between you and them.

Sirius nodded. “Okay love, but if you change your mind you know where to find us, yeah?”

You wanted to cry. To actually sob into their shoulders and word vomit every single mean thing that you told yourself in the last six hours. Instead you just smiled, waved, and ran to your room.

And so began the worst week of your sixth year at Hogwarts.

[goldenstring6123]

Hi !!! How r u pooks :3

Ignore this if u haven't played dti but what do you think the L&DS boys' reactions would be to their s/o playing dress to impress and actually raging at it like verbally LMFAO this game seriously has me TWEAKING bro but I can't stop playing it gigi please free my family 💔 (hcs plz)

Thanks for reading O_o

Lnds: Dress to impress chaos

Warning: no warning! GN!READER, crack-fic (?)

Author's notes: DTI has me on a chokehold as well pookie.

Zayne:

Surprisingly, Zayne knows about this because of the children in the pediatric ward. A good number of kids have their tablets with them and play the game; to him, it looked like some regular dress-up game. He didn't think much of it and just warned the children to lessen their screen time.

When he arrived home and was taking his shoes off in the foyer, he could hear you complaining about something. The only coherent sentence he heard was, "The theme is Y-THREE-K, NOT Y-TWO-K!" He wondered what you were talking about and who you were mad at, but when he saw you huddled around the coffee table, fashion magazines sprawled all over, and another gadget displaying fashion catalogs, he knew what was up.

"What are you getting so worked up about?" he asked, sitting next to you and placing down a cup of tea after changing into his clothes. He could see that there were figures walking down the runway.

"I don't get how those ugly layering players win first place!"

He was confused by what you meant. The outfits were suitable, donning the familiar attire of the staff at the hospital, particularly scrubs and white skirts that were too short for the protocol. "What's the theme?"

"A doctor or a nurse," you replied. As the screen turned briefly black, Zayne waited in anticipation. The scene changed, and on the podium was a mermaid with neon green wings and a god-awful dress.

You threw your hands up in frustration and wept on his knees. Zayne was dumbfounded. "I hate this game!" he heard your muffled cries on his knees. He patted your head.

He got used to seeing you so engrossed in the game, but he would never get used to your mood swings: one moment, you're insulting children, and the next moment, you're giggling because you won 1st place.

Zayne bought you a VIP pass because he loved seeing your reaction every time, although he isn't really a fan of spending money on in-game currency. But he loves you too much, so he just keeps that thought to himself.

After seeing you play, he watches the kids play as well, occasionally commenting on their choice of clothing. The nurses were pretty confused by his comments because Zayne never really commented on any outfits, much less in a game.

Xavier:

Xavier knows about the game and has tried it once, not getting the premise of it at first. He didn't know how to change patterns or delete the clothes he was wearing, so his first catwalk was a bit of a mess. But here's the thing: Xavier won first place, which made him more confused. He screenshot himself on the podium and sent it to you.

When you got home from work, excited to play with him, he was pouting while looking at his phone. You wondered why and saw that another player was walking around in the same exact fit as your partner's character. Xavier said that he kept on trying to change his outfit, but that one person kept doing the same thing. You decided to give that player a piece of your mind on behalf of your boyfriend.

When you're at work, Xavier will send you links to fashion hacks he sees on social media. "This looks cute; let's try it later," and he's more updated when Gigi is working on something. The codes—Xavier knows the codes by heart. He knows them more than he knows the date of your birth.

It was thanks to this game that he likes to go shopping with you to get some inspiration. Surprisingly, he can make a coherent outfit with the ones he sees in the malls.

When you both play together, he likes playing duo, and even if your outfits are unfinished or bad, he gives you 5 stars. But for the rest of the players, he forgets to vote more than half of the time—you don't know if it's on purpose or really by accident.

He would occasionally laugh when players fight against one another, especially if you were involved.

He once bought himself the VIP pass, but his outfits still looked too generic for your liking, but you didn't have the heart to complain. Xavier once lost a bet, and now he has to buy you the pass as well.

He once used his work account to comment on some suggestions on Gigi's Twitter, and kids were confused as to why a hunter was commenting on a kids' game. He deleted it soon after, but he amassed a few hundred followers.

Sylus:

He felt nothing about the game at first and thought of it as nothing more than your form of entertainment. It keeps you busy and out of harm's way, but he never once thought that it would cause a rift in your relationship (he's exaggerating).

Sylus would grow annoyed at how you weren't picking up his calls when you were clearly at home, so he sent Mephisto. The little snitch took a picture of you being so engrossed in your game and sent it back to his boss. Sylus was half disgruntled and 100% dumbfounded when he found out—he was laughing, but he was annoyed. Luke and Kieran were utterly confused.

At midnight, while you worked your way to being a fashion maven, you didn't notice your man sneaking in through the window. Just as you were about to hit pose 11, Sylus yanked your feet and stole your tablet from you.

"No! Give that back!"

"You're not answering my calls because of…this?" He turned to the tablet, which displayed another player's half-decent outfit for the theme "star."

"What calls?" you turned to your phone. '18 missed calls' and your heart sunk to the floor. Shyly, you turned to him, scratching your head. "Oops?"

He sat down on the edge of your bed. "Why are you so engrossed in a dressing game? Why not dress yourself with all the clothes I gave you?" He nudged to the mountain of paper bags in the corner of your room—branded ones, too.

"Because it's fun?" You took the tablet from him and showed him on screen how your outfit won first place. "See? I like winning—one more round, and let's go on a night ride."

He paused, patiently waiting for a minute while you scrolled around the game lobby. He came to a decision. "No. Screen time is over. You've neglected me for far too long." He yanked the tablet away from you using his evol, then pinned you down to the bed, burying his nose in between your breasts.

Although Sylus claims he's not interested in playing the game with you, he did, in fact, join the game secretly to spy on you. He was mildly infuriated with the little amount of selection of menswear and the ridiculous look on the men's faces, so he still really doesn't understand the hype, but he'll be generous enough to give you a three or four-star once in a while.

Once, he joined your server, and the theme was the bad guy. You dressed up as a white-haired, red-eyed man with over-chiseled cheekbones. A moment later, Sylus bombarded you with a screenshot of the game. "I do not look like that. Delete it."

As much as he says he doesn't like the game, Gigi made an update and added some dark reddish aura in-game, as well as a crow perched on the hand of the model. The bird looked awfully close to Mephisto. You confronted Sylus about this, and he denied having any involvement in it.

Whenever you sleep in Sylus' home, he would wake up to the goddamn beat of the game at 3 am, and out of frustration, he would use his EVOL to get the device away from you and place it on the highest shelf in the room. Then he'd hold you down.

Rafayel:

Rafayel introduced you to the game, but after a few times of playing it, it didn't take long for him to get banned for cyberbullying—he wasn't bullying, actually; he was just stating facts, and the other players couldn't take it, and so they reported him. He fights anyone, and he comments a lot in the game, earning him the title of a "yapper."

"You guys don't have taste. How did that thing win first place?" That thing refers to a pretty decent outfit but doesn't match the theme.

"You don't look good either, hun," said the person in first place.

"You don't get to say that when your hair looks like puke, darling." He rage-chattered, saying everything he was typing out loud.

You were cackling beside your boyfriend, witnessing him rage while you were just perched on top of the 3rd place, happy you even got to go up there against all the fashionistas.

"Kids really have the gall to compete and insult adults with taste."

"Raf, you do understand that they're adults as well, right?"

"No, they're not. They're children. This is a kids' game."

You stared at him intently. He stared back, thinking.

"Then I don't need to hold back from insulting them." he placed his hand on the keyboard.

Rafayel's fits are absolutely top-tier. He always wins first place. The layering, the color combination, the form, and the aesthetic are all on point and top-tier. He doesn't reference, and the only time he does is when the theme requires it.

This man doesn't do duos with you because he wants the podium to himself. He once did a duo with you, and it broke his winning streak. You had a small argument about it, but you just gave in, eager to make him lose. Newsflash: You failed miserably.

He secretly joins a farming server every once in a while. Rafayel unknowingly joined the same server as you, and when you asked about it, he denied it, saying only people with bad tastes need to farm for stars. You sent him a screenshot. He didn't talk to you for a day.

He files a lot of complaints and goes on Twitter about how buggy the game is and how bad the texture is. He didn't know that his graphics were on low.

Rafayel is very active in the community and contributes to it during his free time. He uses an alternate account to post suggestions when Gigi opens a post about it. A lot of people actually agree with Rafayel's complaints and suggestions.

Rafayel once freaked out when he accidentally went inside the meat room and told you about it, but when he showed you, it was already catwalk time. You pretended you didn't believe him and tried to pretend to listen when he was searching for that passable wall. You laughed at him and brushed him off, pretending that you didn't believe him.

This began the downward spiral to Lana's lore. He kept on sending you reels about it—and speculations and theories. He even once invited you to that scary horror game, but he quit because it was too creepy and full of 'negative energy.'

Author footnotes: If I'm taking a break while writing, I would be playing dress to impress and I would be fighting children (i'm not joking, I once made a player and her friends leave the server)

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

[gay-dorito-dust]

Giving Bill Cipher the princess treatment prompt or hc's? (Bill totally isn't threatening Reader's entire family if they don't princess carry him and call him babygirl) I love how you write Bill by the way!

Warning: unhealthy relationship stuff and threats from bill.

After everything that went down with sixer and his supposed ‘betrayal’ bill didn’t think he’d find an another puppet companion so soon until one day he came across poor unfortunate you.

Some half baked sob stories of his origins and looking through his fingers at you to make sure you were feeling sympathy for him later, and you were effectively under his thumb by the end of the week. The quickest he’s ever manipulated someone into feeling sorry for him yet!

Now you were stuck forced to carry him in your arms whenever he wished and calling him…baby girl…why you never bothered to ask as whenever you did raise things into question with Bill it usual turns out something like this:

You: don’t you think that’s a little extreme?

Bill: and here I thought you were suppose to be supportive of my dreams and aspirations. Oh well I guess you didn’t need your family that much if you’re quick to question me-

You: No! It’s a brilliant plan! No flaws at all! You’re so smart…baby girl…

Bill: *smirks when you fall back in line* good now I demand to be carried in your arms *he gives you grabby hands*

You: *sigh* yes baby girl *proceeds to pick him up and carry him for the rest of the day*

You’d even have to call Bill baby girl when your mad unless you wanted the corpses of your family to be piled up on your front door!

It was ridiculous but what could you do when stuck in a less than ideal relationship with a demonic triangle who could bring you to heel with a simple click of his fingers? You were doomed to be his servant for the sake of your family and even if you did go to anyone about it, who’d believe you? You’d be the new old man Mcgucket for certain.

So you only sigh and do whatever Bill wanted in hopes it will satisfy him enough to leave your family alone, even if it was brief.

The worst case scenario would be If bill saw that you weren’t being enthusiastic in your affection towards him, then that would be a harder thing to dig your way out of. It didn’t matter whether you were tired mentally or physically, if Bill wanted to be carried in your arms he will want you to do so with a complicit smile on your face.

Bill: you don’t look happy to be carrying me? *squints his eye*

You: *quickly puts on a fake smile* what?! I’m more than happy to carry my baby girl! It’s the only highlight of my day, nothing could ever compete with spending time with my baby girl!

Bill: good! For a second there I thought you’d have to be attending a family members funeral for a moment. Haha guess I must’ve been seeing things, right? *he stares uncomfortably at you*

You: yeah because how could I ever show you any other emotion other than happiness and love. *internally dying*

Bill: also don’t over compliment me, it makes you look clingy and I don’t like clingy.

You internally: as if you aren’t clingy yourself you fucking discarded sentient Dorito chip.

It’s better to keep playing his game until he inevitably grows bored of you, and god forbid if you ever encounter Stanford Pines ever, your family is certain for destruction if Bill caught you talking to his traitorous ex partner. (Potential for Stanford x reader?)

Needles to say if you were to ever be granted the ability to time travel, you’d go back and warn yourself to not trust Bill Cipher, not if you want your family’s blood on your hands just because you didn’t call him Babygirl first thing in the morning.

You: morning bi-

Bill: whichever family member your love the most will die in 5 seconds if you don’t correct yourself sweetie.

You: morning babygirl, what should we do today?

Bill: *pats you on the shoulder* that wasn’t so hard was it? And I don’t feel like doing anything that requires me to part from you for suspicious periods of time incase you do something I don’t like. *stares at you menacingly*

You: good choice! All day with my babygirl? I’m so lucky…so extremely….lucky. *looks over at the photo of your family and friends* blessed even…

Bill: you sure are! Now why don’t you carry me! *grabby hands 2.0*

[archivequinn]

the bond between us eddie munson x female reader

Summary: You go back to the town you had to leave to go to university, but the town wasn't the only thing you left behind, you go to the place you least want to be for a date and there you run into your ex-boyfriend Eddie Munson. ao3 link Words: 5,147 Warnings: bleeding, injury part one | part two (completed)

Looking from the outside, the Hideout bar in the small town of Hawkins was a place that had seen better days. The wooden facade, a sign hanging down from the weight of the snow, and the red paint peeling at the corners. Near the door, a dull yellow neon sign flickered “Hideout” in a dull flash of light.

When you stepped inside, the nostalgic and somewhat sad atmosphere of this place immediately hit you in the face. The smell of tobacco permeated the place, combined with the slight creak of walking on the old wooden floors. A few bare lamps hanging from the ceiling provided a warm but insufficient light.

The long wooden bar counter behind the stools was blackened with time, the surface streaked with water rings left by glasses. On the walls hung a few faded rock posters and plaques of pool champions from a local tournament.

A few silent alcoholics were seated at tables in the corner, drinking their glasses down. With their worn coats and tired expressions on their faces, they seemed in no hurry to spend another winter evening here. A homeless man sat at the back table, slowly puffing on a cigarette and watching the snowflakes flutter outside the window. A few people gathered around the pool table, joking and waiting for the next game. A group of people were sprawled on stools, raising their cheap beers in the air, smiling at each other and chatting. Some of them turned to the stage, staring at the microphones placed next to the guitar amps as if waiting for the next performance.

You took a deep breath, sat down on one of the stools and looked at the clock on the wall behind the bartender who was wiping the glasses with a clean cloth. It was almost seven in the evening, less than ten minutes before the date was due to start. 

You smiled and shook your head at the bartender who asked if you wanted something to drink. “I'm waiting for someone,” you replied shortly. You were feeling a little uneasy, being here of all places to meet made you feel uneasy. In fact, just being back in this town made you uneasy in itself.

You remembered the day you left this damn town to go to university. You had to leave not only this place, but the love of your life. Eddie. 

Now you had graduated and you were back home. For the first few weeks you spent time at home with your family, you spent every evening with them, as if to make up for all the times you couldn't see your friends. You always felt like asking about Eddie, but you preferred to keep it inside. You thought that if you ever got the chance, you might mention his name in conversation, or that your friends would mention him. 

They said he'd been dating a girl for a while, and I think you heard that after he broke up with her, he hadn't been around much. He never went to college, he was still living with his uncle in the trailer park, he was fixing cars and Steve said he was pretty good at it.

The first thing you asked was, “Does he still play guitar?'' Robin was the one who answered that question. 

“He hasn't touched it since you left...''

This sentence was like a flame burning your throat, preventing you from swallowing. “What about his dreams? He was going to leave this damn town to make records, to become a famous guitarist like his dream...'' You couldn't put the thoughts that came to your mind into words. Because you knew the answer.

And deep down inside, you knew your friends blamed you for leaving Eddie when you left. But they were too nice to tell you that.

But what else could you do? You both knew a long-distance relationship wouldn't work. 

Having to break up with Eddie was like a wound in the center of your chest that still wouldn't heal. It seemed like a simple “obligation” to everyone else, but only you and Eddie knew how complicated it really was. Going to university was a dream, your dream... but it was also an inevitable path, shaped by your family's pressure. It seemed the only way out of this town, the only way to make a future for yourself. Eddie, on the other hand, had never felt like he belonged in the world outside Hawkins. He had grown up in the trailer park, learned about life with his uncle, and even his dreams had been shaped within the confines of this town. His dream was to become a famous guitarist, yes, maybe that was just a fantasy for him. A dream he knew he would never achieve.

He discussed it with you for hours. “You're leaving me here,” he once said, his voice cracked, his eyes full of sadness mixed with anger. “I don't belong in your world and you don't belong in mine. You'll understand that better when you go to university.” At that moment you couldn't fight him with the words that were stuck in your throat. Because he was right. Eddie was living a very different life, one that could never coincide with your career goals. While you'd be in the campus libraries, full of books, he'd be fixing old cars in the grease-smelling workshops of Hawkins.

But what hurt the most was watching Eddie quietly give up on his dreams. “We can find a way out together,” you said, almost pleadingly. But Eddie shook his head from side to side, averting his eyes as his hair fell over his face. 

“My place is here. Your place is... somewhere else. It would consume us both, you know that.” His sarcastic tone, always taking things for granted, was gone. It was replaced by the voice of a tired, accepting man.

Eddie said he couldn't imagine you every morning in another city, in another life. “How can distance be enough when even Hawkins isn't enough?” he said, smiling bitterly.

You knew in your heart as you left him behind: The separation wasn't just a physical distance. When you left Eddie that night, you took a part of him with you forever. And Eddie had done the same. 

So what were you doing at the Hideout now? Yes, you were waiting for your first date with a guy named Josh, but you wondered why it had to be here. When Josh suggested to meet there, you couldn't say no, because what were you going to explain to him, “My ex-boyfriend used to play there all the time, and even though he doesn't play there anymore, I'm not over him, so that bar has a special meaning for me, I can't go there”? That would be the worst impression you could give on a first date.

You turned around slowly as you heard someone calling your name, that familiar voice bringing a familiar face with it. It was Gareth, Eddie's friend from the band and the matchmaker who made you two become a couple in the first place. Seeing him here made your heart race, you thought, if he's here maybe... maybe. The possibility that because he was here, Eddie might be around here somewhere made your stomach twist in knots.

You put a warm smile on your face and hugged Gareth, “What are you doing here? I thought you were out of town,” Gareth said as he hugged you back.

''Yeah, I've been back for a couple weeks now. I uhm, graduated,” you explained. Your eyes were scanning the bar quickly, the mere thought of Eddie being here made you want to throw up from anxiety.

“I'm glad to hear that,” Gareth said as he sat down on the stool next to you. ”So, what's up? Where are your friends, are you waiting for someone?''

You nodded as you took a sip of water. “Actually, I have a date, I'm waiting for him,” you said, and it felt like you had been punched in the stomach, like it was a crime to say that. You thought Gareth would be angry about it, after all you had caused his friend to be miserable for months. But it had been years, hadn't it?

Gareth nodded his head as if to say he understood and smiled. “Alright, I'll be on stage in a bit, nice to see you again, hope you have a good time on your date.'' After patting you on the shoulder, he took the beer the bartender handed him and walked away from you.

Looking after Gareth, you took a deep breath and began tapping your fingers nervously on the surface of the table. 

Just then, the cold air hit you in the face as the door opened and a man stepped into the bar, wearing a brown leather jacket and an expensive scarf that looked like it had been bought in a luxury store. His blond hair was styled like something out of a hairdresser's advertisement and his bright blue eyes looked arrogantly around him. It was him. Josh. Even before he said his name, you knew who he was.

When Josh noticed you, he walked over with a wide smile, as if he was the only one lighting up the room he was in... or so he thought. “Hey, you're just in time, too!” he said, his voice filled with a squeaky cheerfulness. 

“Yeah,” you said, with a forced smile, ”I've been here a few minutes.”

Josh made an almost implicit gesture for you to get up from the stool. “Great, great. Let's move over there, the light's a little too bright here. I'll find you a better seat.” Before you could understand what he was saying, he placed his hand lightly on your back and guided you to a darker corner of the bar.

Josh gestured exaggeratedly to the waiter as he sat on the opposite stool. “Two margaritas for us! But please... make sure you cut the lemons right. I had a very bad experience at a bar last time.” His tone was more like a lecture than an order. It was impossible not to notice the patient but obviously irritated expression on the waiter's face.

“Well, actually I don't want a margarita, a water will do for now,” you said, interrupting his arrogant order. Josh cocked his head to the side and looked at you as if you had said something strange.

“Water? God, you can't be serious,” he said with a mocking laugh. “Relax, we're not here to party, but we can make the first date count, right? Tell me, are you having any fun?”

For a moment lightning flashed in your head. You had already gotten annoyed with him from the very first sentence. How could he be so cocky? You crossed your arms on the table and stared at him, inwardly looking for ways to escape.

“Yeah, I don't usually have to drink to have fun,” you said, a little teasingly. Josh took it as a joke and tried to laugh, but even his laugh was insincere.

“Oh, okay. I think you're serious. You know, people usually find me extremely funny. I mean, not just because of my looks,” he said, smoothing his hair with his hand. “I guess you've noticed that too.”

“Sure, I noticed,” you mumbled, but your eyes were searching for Gareth and the others without realizing it. You felt like you were going crazy if you spent any more time with this man.

As he talked, it was like a part of your soul was dying, you could have been on the most boring date in the world.

“I mean,” Josh continued, twisting the lemon wedge in his hand, ”Hawkins is a small town, isn't it? I hate being here. Imagine, people are born and raised here and never get out. I think you were born and raised here too, weren't you?”

With that sentence, his discomfort grew. Eddie's face involuntarily flashed before your eyes. You knew that Eddie had always felt inadequate because of people like Josh. Instead of answering him, you kept silent, because if you opened your mouth, the anger you were trying to hide behind your words would show.

Just then Gareth's voice was heard on stage. “Okay everyone, tonight we're going to get a little nostalgic! We're going to play one of the ‘Corroded Coffin’ songs. You used to be with us every Tuesday at Hawkins. Maybe some of you will remember our songs and sing along, who knows?”

Gareth's voice pulled you back to the real world. In the dim lights of the bar, you suddenly stopped breathing. Your heart's beating like crazy. If Gareth was on stage... Eddie.

Gareth gripped the sticks of his drum kit and sat on the drum seat, you knew the other members of the band, you had spent enough time with each of them. Eddie and the others used to go on that stage when you were still here and with him. You always watched them from the front. You listened to Eddie playing his guitar, looking into your eyes, as if you were the only one there.

But now Eddie wasn't on stage... And it felt like something was missing. Like something was wrong, like the last piece of the puzzle was missing.

Josh continued to talk about himself, as he had for the last hour. You were staring at the stage, listening to the songs you once knew by heart being played again, remembering the lyrics with each note. You remembered how each note made you feel. The whole thing was passing before your eyes like a movie, and when your song started playing, you felt your eyes fill with tears. Everything seemed blurry, everything seemed to feel sorry for you.

You stood up, grabbing your bag. ''I'm sorry Josh... I almost forgot something I had to do... Uhm, I have to go...'' you said.

Josh didn't seem convinced. “Oh, yeah? I can give you a ride... I've got a car outside the door.” he offered. 

You shook your head quickly. “No need, I'll go,” you insisted.

“It's cold and the snow is falling faster. I'll give you a ride,” he said as he put a few dollars and a tip on the table and stood up.

“No,” you said shortly.

“Do you really have to go?” he said, this time in a slightly sarcastic tone. “I mean, I put a lot of work into planning tonight, and you could at least be a little... I don't know, grateful for that, right?”

Josh's words froze you in place. Your eyes quickly turned to him. “Grateful? What are you talking about?” you said, your brow furrowed, your tone sharp.

“I mean, after all, I spent my time and energy to get here,” Josh said, spreading his arms wide, putting his arm behind your back and leaning in close enough to press you into your chair. “You need to spend more time with me here. After all, don't you want to get to know me? Or... maybe you're being too coy.”

You were startled when his arm came close enough to pinch you. “Pull your arm away!” you said sternly, but Josh just grinned.

“Oh, come on, don't be so scared. I'm not a bad guy. I brought you here because I thought we could have a nice evening,” he continued. This time his voice was more sarcastic and disturbing. 

“Let me go,” you said again, this time sounding more nervous. But Josh took these words as an invitation instead of a threat.

“Let me go? Oh, I see...” he said, leaning closer to your face and gazing into your eyes. “You actually like it, don't you? This little 'coy' game. Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm good at figuring out girls.”

Just then, as your whole body froze, a voice from behind you made you hold your breath.

“You're also good at blowing your chances, apparently.”

Someone tapped Josh hard on the shoulder. Josh's expression changed. Frowning, he turned around to meet Eddie's stern gaze. The anger on Eddie's face made it feel icy even inside the bar.

“Who the hell are you?” Josh asked, giving Eddie a condescending look. But Eddie's smile held no warmth; it was more like an approaching storm.

“I'm not an asshole like you, that's for sure,” Eddie said, his voice deep and menacing. Then he turned to you, a soft but worried look in his eyes. “Did he touch you?”

Josh interjected, his voice loud and confident enough to drown out Eddie's question. “This isn't about you, man, leave us alone.”

Instead of answering, Eddie suddenly grabbed Josh by the collar. He easily lifted him off the floor and shoved him hard into one of the bar's tables. The chair tipped over as Josh fell to the floor, several people standing around you recoiled in horror. Eddie leaned over Josh and whispered in a cold voice.

“You will not bother her again. In fact, you will never set foot in this bar again. Do you understand?”

But Josh didn't seem like the type to give up that easily. He put his hand on Eddie's collar and stood up quickly. “You think you're gonna scare me? Get out of the way, you fucking bastard!” he shouted, and then he punched Eddie hard. As the punch connected with Eddie's jaw, the loud thud inside the bar momentarily froze the whole place. A thin trickle of blood trickled down Eddie's lip as he took a few steps back.

But instead of pausing, Eddie became even more enraged by the impact. The rage in his eyes was now uncontrollable. He quickly wiped his cheek and took a step toward Josh.

“I warned you,” Eddie said. There was such determination in his voice that you could see Josh was scared.

Eddie moved quickly and punched Josh hard in the stomach, then, without missing a beat, struck him a second time. This time his fist connected with Josh's jaw and he staggered back to the ground. But Eddie didn't stop. He pounced on him, grabbed him by the collar and delivered another blow to his face. “You're learning the price of bothering a woman,” Eddie said, his voice growing more determined with each blow.

Josh tried to stop Eddie with his hands, but Eddie was giving him no chance. Within seconds, Josh's face was covered in blood. Those inside the bar looked on, horrified by the fight, while Gareth got up from the stage and prepared to try and pull them apart.

Eddie took one last look at Josh's face and pushed him hard to the floor. “If you ever cross me again, I'll make you regret it,” he said.

Josh staggered to his feet. His shirt was soiled, his face bloodied and his pride shattered. “You'll pay for this,” he mumbled, but his voice couldn't hide his fear. He walked quickly to the door and left the bar.

Eddie took a deep breath and sat up. Blood was still seeping from his lip, but he didn't seem to care. When he turned to you, the anger was gone from his gaze, replaced by a familiar warmth.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded and put your hand over your heart. A few minutes later the waiters were picking up the fallen stools and the chaos inside the bar had slowly subsided. People were back in their seats, chatting, and a few people were still discussing what had happened in whispers. 

You turned to Eddie and took a deep breath. The adrenaline was giving way to shame, especially as you felt the stares around you. “Everyone's staring at us,” you muttered, your eyes drifting to the floor.

Eddie shrugged, as if he didn't really care. “Let them look,” he said, smiling slightly. But even the small grin on his face disappeared instantly because of the cut on his lip and he groaned slightly.

Just then Gareth came up to you with an ice pack. There was a slight look of concern on his face as he handed it to you. “Here. That should help a little,” he said. He paused for a moment, turning to Eddie. “I have to get back to the stage, but are you... are you all right?”

Eddie nodded his head as if thanking Gareth and gave a slight smile. “I'm fine. Don't worry.”

Gareth looked at Eddie for a few more seconds, then glanced in your direction, patted him on the shoulder and returned to the stage. Guitars and drums echoed through the bar as the band regrouped and prepared to play. But no longer could they drown out the pounding of your heart.

You gently took the ice pack gently and pressed it to Eddie's bleeding lip. Eddie flinched involuntarily and tried to pull back, but you didn't let go. “Stop,” you said softly. “At least let me take care of this while you put up a big fight for me.”

Eddie's gaze stopped on you, the anger long gone from his eyes. A strange embarrassment had taken its place, but he said nothing. As you cleaned the blood from his lip in silence, you finally couldn't resist and tried to speak. “I didn't know you were here. If I had known...”

Eddie interrupted, trying to avert his eyes from you, but finally he looked at you and took a deep breath. “Wouldn't you have come if you'd known?” he said, his voice more calm and vulnerable than you expected.

You parted your lips to answer, but Eddie kept talking. “I know... I heard you were back in town but I didn't dare to see you. I didn't know what to say, but... I still wanted to see you, so... I watched from a distance.”

Surprised, you put down the ice pack and looked at him. “You watched from a distance?”

Eddie tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I don't want to sound like a stalker,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “But yeah. Ever since I found out you were here... I guess I've been following you like a shadow, watching you from a distance, not bothering you. I don't know, maybe I didn't have the courage to see you again. Maybe I thought that if you saw me here... you would run away.”

You felt your heart squeeze at this confession. Eddie's voice was so honest and vulnerable that it was hard to look him in the eye. 

You pressed the ice pack to Eddie's lip again and leaned a little closer to him. “Eddie...” you whispered. “Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you come to me? You could have talked to me. I wouldn't have run away.”

Eddie looked you in the eye, but this time he didn't run away. “I don't know. Maybe I didn't think I deserved it. I didn't have anything right to say to you. But... seeing you was enough. Seeing you happy... Anyway, you were telling that idiot that you had to leave... Can I drop you where you're going? I don't want him to get in your way.’’

''Uhm... I made up a lie to get rid of him. But I'd better get back home... It's been a long night.''

The moonlight glinted off the thin layer of snow that had just fallen, and it looked as if the ground was covered in a silver blanket. Eddie was walking a few steps ahead of you, his hands in his pockets as usual, but his shoulders were much broader than they had been. This difference caused your eyes to involuntarily drift to his back and silhouette. You immediately averted your eyes, but you couldn't control where your thoughts were going. 

Eddie suddenly stopped and turned his head to look at you. “Are you still cold?” he asked, his voice soft yet protective.

You tried to smile at him, but your lips felt numb from the cold. “No, I'm fine,” you said, but you didn't sound convincing.

Eddie shook his head from side to side, as if expecting this answer. “Let me put this jacket to good use,” he said, and in one motion he took off his leather jacket. You couldn't help but notice the moment when his arm muscles peeled away from his jacket. This whole car mechanic thing... it had definitely worked for him.

When he handed you the jacket, you tried to protest. “But I thought you'd be cold too...”

“Stop arguing with me,” he interrupted, smiling slightly. He gently placed the jacket on your shoulders and straightened the collar. “Do I look like I'm cold?”

He was right. It was impossible not to notice the muscles under his thin black shirt. His shoulders looked wider, his arms thicker and his back stronger. The boy who years ago had played songs on the bar stage with his guitar was now a different man. There was something about Eddie; maybe the years, maybe the hardships he had endured had made him more attractive. But one thing was certain: This man was too good looking for any girl in town to refuse. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, inhaling the faint smell of leather and cigarettes in the jacket. Eddie's scent... it filled you with something familiar and nostalgic.

Eddie shrugged, but there was a look on his face that said he was studying you. “If you hadn't gone on dates with idiots like that, you'd be sitting in your warm house and you wouldn't be cold,” he said, his eyes seeming to focus on a point on the horizon, but there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Even if I don't go on dates with idiots like that, I'm still being watched by stalkers somehow, right?” you said, tilting your head and mocking him slightly.

Eddie threw his hands up in the air. “I never watched your house. I'm not that kind of stalker, okay?” he said, the sarcasm in his voice a little defensive.

And then he continued. “Besides, you're lucky I was there. I don't want to watch stupid Josh get in your way again. He'll probably lose more teeth next time.”

You started laughing too, but at the same time you felt grateful that he was making such an effort to protect you. Eddie continued to walk beside you, occasionally glancing at you to make sure everything was all right.

“By the way,” he added after a while, ”it's all his fault that guy treated you the way he did. The way he spoke to you... It was unacceptable. If he tries to get close to you again, he'll find more than me.”

You felt your heartbeat a little faster at Eddie's protective attitude. Even after all these years, Eddie's devotion to you seemed unchanged. It was both frightening and strangely comforting.

When you came to a familiar corner of town, Eddie paused for a moment. “This is it, isn't it?” he said, nodding toward your house.

“Yes,” you said, nodding slightly. But you didn't want to say goodbye to him. There was something in you that wished this moment could last longer.

When the door opened, you were a little disturbed by the silence from inside. As you stepped inside you realized that Eddie was still waiting behind you. You turned to look at him and saw a hesitant look on his face.

“Anybody home?” Eddie asked, running a hand through the back of his hair and tugging at a lock of curly hair. It was an indication that he was a little nervous.

You shook your head from side to side. “No, no one's home. My family has been out of town for a few days. It's just me...” Your voice trailed off, but then you gathered your courage and continued. “If you want... you can come in and have a coffee. I mean... it's quite cold outside and you gave me your jacket.”

Eddie cocked his head and gave a light laugh. “I don't know, I don't want to be a bother. I mean... Tonight was weird enough...”

“Eddie,” you said, determination in your eyes. “It's just a coffee. Nothing weird. And... seriously, I'm not going to leave you out after you've helped me so much.”

Eddie hesitated for a few seconds, then shrugged and stepped through the doorway. “Okay, but just a coffee. I promise I won't bother you any more.”

“The kitchen is this way,” you said with a slight smile as you led him towards the kitchen.

Eddie was leaning against a corner near the counter, and you were putting the kettle on for the coffee. “Still drinking it with sugar?” you asked, your eyes flicking to his face for a moment.

Eddie smiled. “More of this 'do you drink with sugar' talk? You still don't recognize me?”

You laughed, this familiar conversation had taken you back to warmer and happier times in the past. Just as you reached for the sugar jar, Eddie bent down to pick up the glasses and your arms collided.

“Oh, sorry,” you said and stepped back slightly, but Eddie moved at the same time and you collided again.

Eddie put on his familiar wry smile. “I guess we're still pretty clumsy, like the old days.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, it's your fault. You shouldn't have stood so close.”

But Eddie didn't answer. His eyes locked on yours for a moment, then his gaze slowly dropped to your lips. Suddenly the kitchen became a much warmer, much more intimate place. Your heart began to beat faster.

“Eddie...” you whispered, but your voice was barely a breath.

Eddie's hand was resting on the counter, his body pressed a little closer to yours. When his eyes refocused on yours, his expression was mixed. There was both eagerness and a kind of timidity.

“If you want to stop me...” he said, his voice low, almost a murmur. “Now is the time.”

But you didn't say anything. In fact, you didn't even know what to say. It was as if everything had stopped; all you heard was your own breathing and Eddie's approaching presence. Your eyes closed involuntarily as you felt his nose touch yours.

Finally... his lips lightly touched yours. It was so gentle that for a brief moment you wondered if it was real. But then Eddie's hand reached around your waist, pulling you to him, deepening the kiss. This kiss carried all the intensity of that moment, all the longing, all the emotions that had been hidden for years.

Your fingers involuntarily gripped the hem of Eddie's shirt. As you inhaled deeply, his scent - the faint smell of cigarettes, his leather jacket and that timbre you had always recognized - completely overtook you. For a moment the world was just that moment.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 7- For The First Time

Summary: Eight days ago, you kissed Frankie Morales for the first time. Eight days later, you want to do more than just kiss him.

Word count: 8.6K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname, no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) protected p in v sex, loss of virginity/first sexual experience for Frankie and Reader (some brief mentions of momentary discomfort bc of it) oral (f receiving- building the lore for Pussy Eating King Francisco Morales brick by brick), vaginal fingering, Frankie's got a big dick (it's also part of the lore, don't @ me) sweet and awkward teenage love, Frankie being everything and more, lots and lots and lots of consent, a four letter word that starts with an L, please don't yell at me, they're both 18 at this point in the story!!!

A/N: Soooooo all of a sudden I blinked a this was 8K plus words WHOOPS 🤠 I ain't gonna lie with y'all, this may be one of my favorite things I've ever written and have cried the whole way through it 😭 My plan was to have Frankie picking up MacKenzie from work in this chapter too, but obviously things got away from me very quickly, so that will be next chapter's problem!! Your kind words about this story mean so much to me, I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I've enjoyed writing it!!! 🥺💕

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Summer of 2007, Age 18 

123 days. 

That night Frankie told you he had made up his mind to join the Army after he finished with high school, you counted out every square on your calendar from April 15th to August 16th. You had 123 days left together before you left for college and Frankie left for boot camp. 

But April 15th was 2 months ago. 67 days ago, to be exact. Each day you crossed off your calendar filled you with a little more dread than the last. You tried not to think about the dwindling number, or the impending doom of August hanging behind July and June on the wall above your desk, but it was hard to not let the thought constantly nag in the back of your mind that the carefree summer days of spending practically every waking minute with Frankie were coming to an end. 

The only thing that seemed to put you at ease was just that- after the hurt and sadness of Frankie’s departure had subsided enough, you had promised each other that the last bit of time you had together, you’d do everything in your power to make the most of it. 

If there was anything you knew the other was good for, it was keeping a promise. 

There was no denying that the past 67 days spent with Frankie had been nothing short of magical. It seemed like for once in your life, everything was falling into place exactly how you wanted it to. 

Your soccer team had won the state championship, Frankie being the first to rush onto the field to congratulate you on your victory after cheering for you at the top of his lungs the whole game. The stress of school seemed to become irrelevant, your teachers easing up as you came to the close of your Senior year, you and Frankie’s after school hangouts now focused less on homework and more on goofing around. Graduation had come and gone, you and Frankie both walking across the stage of your high school gym, diplomas in hand, teasing the other relentlessly about how awful the other looked in the stupid, tasseled caps they had forced you to wear. 

Then, there was prom.

It had been no question that you and Frankie were going to prom together- it was an unspoken, standing agreement that the both of you had since the start of your senior year. For as much as homecomings or school dances had never been your (or Frankie’s) preferred way to spend a Saturday night, there was an undeniable excitement you had about it you couldn’t really quite describe. You kept chalking it up to the fact it was the biggest night of your senior year, or that all your best friends were gathering together to have an incredible party filled with dancing and fun. 

But neither of those things could account for the butterflies in your stomach when Frankie showed up at your front door, tuxedo on and flowers in hand, watching his jaw drop and heart stop when he laid eyes on you. 

“You look beautiful, MacKenzie.” 

From that moment on, those 4 words hadn’t stopped ringing in your ears. 

They rang in your ears as he held your hand the entire night, refusing to unlock his fingers from yours. 

They rang in your ears as you felt him grab your waist while you danced. 

They rang in your ears as he lovinging teased you about your drunken hiccups off sips of stolen beer cans in Santi’s basement where the party had traveled to long after prom had finished. 

They rang in your ears in the middle of your moonlit street as Frankie walked you home, making it no less than ten steps past Santi’s porch before he froze, staring at you like a trembling deer in headlights.

“What’s wrong, weirdo?” 

“There’s something I wanna do. I’m terrified you’ll hate me forever if I do it, but I’ve wanted to for so long and I don’t think I can wait anymore.” 

“Frankie, what are you-” 

“Can I kiss you, MacKenzie? Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad.” 

“F-Frankie, I-” 

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Just forget that I-” 

“I was scared you would never ask.” 

It wasn’t until then you realized just how badly you wanted to kiss Frankie Morales. 

Now, you’re absolutely sure that you never want to stop kissing him. 

There’s something about the warmed, welcomed June air that makes you want to throw every caution you’ve ever had to the wind, finally understanding what all of those books and movies had meant about falling victim to a summer fling.

Ever since that night at prom, Frankie Morales was the only thing in the world that mattered. It had only been eight days since his lips had met yours under the midnight moon, but every day since, neither of you had passed up a chance to sneak away for stolen kisses and bodies tangled in messy dances of limbs, finding any excuse to spend a moment alone together. 

Maybe your pink cheeks and goofy grins were enough to let the world know how hard you had fallen for your best friend- even if they weren’t, you wouldn’t care. Right now, consequences don't exist. 

Right now, the only thing that does is you, Frankie, and a four letter word that lingers in the back of your mind. 

They especially don’t exist when you’re wide awake at one in the morning for the third night in a row, unable to sleep as butterflies rumble in your stomach and fly up to your chest after another day spent with the boy four doors down. 

You toss and turn under your sheets, unable to stand staring hopelessly at your ceiling another minute. You reach across your bed, plucking your phone off your nightstand, finding Frankie’s name in your messages. 

You: 

Hey, are you still up? I can’t sleep 

It’s barely ten seconds before his contact is lighting up your screen, making your heartbeat just a little faster.

Frankie :) <3

Im up 2. I cant sleep either 

Cant stop thinking about u 

You: 

Me either, even though we literally spent all day together haha 

You smile at your screen as you wait for Frankie’s response, fingers anxiously tapping on your keyboard until your phone lights up again. 

Frankie :) <3

Do u wanna come over? 

I wanna see u 

Your face scrunches in confusion, sitting up in your bed to peer out your window, like Frankie would be able to see your puzzled expression from down the street as you type back. 

You: 

I mean, yeah, but it’s 1 AM Frankie??? What about your mom? 

Frankie :) <3 

Shes working overnight at the hospital 

She wont be back until like 9 tomorrow 

Its just me 

You’re unsure of how to describe the feeling that’s beginning to brew in your stomach as you read his last three texts. A strange mix of excitement and anticipation washes through you at the idea of letting yourself indulge in the teenage rebellion of sneaking out of your house in the middle of the night. An even stranger mix of nerves and something else you can’t quite explain floods your veins at the idea of sneaking out of your house to find Frankie, alone in his bedroom. 

The feeling you quite can’t explain churns faster in your gut and travels down your lower half when you realize if you’re alone with Frankie in his bedroom, you want to do more than just kiss him. 

You: 

Are you sure?? 

Frankie :) <3

Promise 

I really wanna see u Kenz 

At this point, the strange feeling that’s seeped through every inch of your body must have made it to your brain, because you’re convinced it’s the reason you don’t know how to breathe anymore. 

You: 

Okay 

I’ll be over in 10 :) 

Frankie :) <3 

Ok :) 

Come in thru the back door  

Txt me when ur there and ill let u in 

You’ve never been up and out of your bed so quickly, fumbling with your comforter and pillows just enough to resemble something close to a body under your sheets if god forbid either one of your parents wakes up and decides to check on you for the first time since you were a toddler. 

Your breath trembles, inhaling and exhaling in long and deep rises of your chest, carefully tiptoeing across your bedroom floor. You’d give anything to be in something cuter than your pajamas, but opening your closet seems like too risky of a move in your plot to escape. 

You grab Frankie’s sweatshirt hanging over your desk chair, quietly shuffling it over your head before attempting to use the moonlight spilling in through your window as enough illumination to comb your fingers through your messy hair and wrangle it into a quick braid. It’s hard to tell from the half lit reflection staring back at you in the mirror, but you pray the once over you give yourself is enough to keep you from looking like a complete mess when you show up at Frankie’s door. 

The adrenaline of it all seems to kick your nerves to the curb as you stuff your phone in Frankie’s sweatshirt pocket before your fingers gently wrap around the curve of your doorknob. As soon as you open the door, you’re well aware of the ramifications that could await you on the other side. 

You’re also well aware that consequences are temporary, and no amount of fear of future punishment is keeping you from making it to Frankie’s bedroom tonight. 

It’s a James Bond worthy performance, the way you sneak down your staircase, avoiding every crack and creak with expertise, stealthily sliding past your parents bedroom and across the family room until you’ve crept through your kitchen to find your back patio.

You flinch with every squeal of the sliding glass door as you nudge it open, just enough to squeeze your body through. You grimace your face in fear as you pause, back to the bricks of your house, waiting for someone to catch you in the act. 

A few moments pass and the silence of your home stays stagnant, giving you the all clear to bolt across your backyard, dashing through your neighbors lawns until you find yourself at Frankie’s, hands shaking as your fingers punch at your keyboard. 

You: 

I’m here! Let me in!  

As your thumb presses send, your adrenaline has waived just enough to let the anxious tension take hold of your body, palms sweating and heart racing so fast it just may beat out of your chest. Your teeth gnaw at your fingernails, waiting for his response to text you that he’ll be right there, or he’s about to let you in, but this is Frankie- It should be no surprise when he opens the back door immediately. There’s not a chance in hell he hasn’t been waiting for you down here since the moment you texted him you were coming. 

“Hi.” You whisper, biting down your lip to contain the smile that’s spread across your face as he’s opened the door. 

“Hi.” He whispers back, tongue darting between his lips as his eyes wander up and down your frame before locking with yours. 

His palm grazes your cheek, cradling your jaw as he steps into you, chest to chest while your lips lock in a gentle, electric kiss, the kind that makes you want the taste of him to linger on your tongue forever. 

“You wanna go up to my room?” He asks, the hot breath of his words dancing across your skin as his mouth still hovers over yours. 

Before, you would have quipped him with some sort of witty, sarcastic response, teasing him that you’d rather stay out in the pitch black and get eaten by mosquitos until he dragged you inside, eyes rolling at your sass. Now, the best you can manage are shaky breaths while you nod your head in agreement, praying your brain will let you form some sort of coherent thought before you speak. 

Frankie grabs your hand as he pulls you into his house, taking the familiar path through his kitchen and up the stairs to his bedroom, the pounding in both your chests filling the silence for the words you seem to lack. 

He doesn’t even bother closing the door behind him as you make it to his room, your bodies tangling and intertwining in a frantic dance, stumbling across the floor until the backs of Frankie’s knees collide with the bed, the two of you toppling over in soft giggles onto the mattress. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” Frankie sighs, one arm wrapped around your hip and the other resting on your face as he leans back in for another kiss, your smiles pressed against each other. 

“It’s only been like, three hours since I saw you last, dummy,” You quietly snicker, letting your hands wander up his chest, “You really missed me that much?” 

“Yeah, really.” He replies in between kisses, fingers digging just a little bit deeper into your side, “I can’t stop thinking about you, Kenzie. You’re all I think about. You’re all I ever wanna think about.” 

You try to swallow the lump that’s lingering in your throat, but with each second that passes, it seems to grow, trapping the words your brain is fighting to get out. The simple bliss you’ve found in pressing your mouth to Frankie’s has become overshadowed by the looming tension spreading through you as you imagine the soft plush of his lips across your skin, or the way you want his hands to creep down the waistband of your shorts and ease the ache that’s been building between your legs. 

Your body freezes at the realization that you want to tell him that you can’t stop thinking about him either, that you can’t stop thinking about the fact you want more than just his lips pressed against yours, how you want him to be the first one you feel inside you, that he’s the only one you ever want. 

That there’s nothing more than you want to be his. 

It doesn’t take long for Frankie to realize he’s making out with a half open mouth, pulling away with concern as he studies the pained expression across your face. 

“Kenz, a-are, are you okay? D-did I do something wrong?” Frankie stammers, gulping as he shifts himself to follow your lead and sit up on the bed. 

“N-no, no, it’s just that- fuck- I just- fuck, I don’t know how to say this.” You stutter, face growing hotter and hotter as you furrow your brow, eyes peeled to Frankie’s blue and green plaid sheets as you try to find the words you want so desperately for him to hear.

Frankie reaches out his hand, gently resting it on the bare skin of your thigh, just below the hem of your pajama shorts. You glance down at the way his fingers carefully rub back and forth, trying to calm your nerves enough to look at him. 

“It’s okay, Kenzie. Whatever it is, I’m- I’m here to listen.” He responds, trying his best to be the anchor in your storm, despite his own nearly shot nerves. 

“I- I- I really like you, Frankie.” 

“I really like you too, Kenz.” He smiles softly, just enough teasing inflection in his tone to get you to giggle, just a little. 

“I just- I- um, do you- Frankie, do you- do you ever think about doing more than just kissing me?” 

A stark silence fills the room, quiet enough that each breath through your nose and thump in your chest amplifies and echoes in the space between you. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek watching Frankie’s face go blank, eyes widening with every second he lets your question process. His Adam’s Apple bobs in sync with the trembling exhale he takes before he looks back at you, praying that your word vomit hasn’t led to a detrimental mistake. 

“Do um, holy shit- you mean like, l-like what? Like, like, h-having sex? W-w-with you?” 

He’s panting like he’s just finished a marathon, his eyes darting wildly between you and his sheets, terrified to answer your question with anything else but his own question to make sure he’s really just heard what you said. 

The tops of your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you nod your head just enough, the subtle shake just enough to let him confirm his suspicions that you’re asking as a way of letting him  know how often it’s crossed your mind. 

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I think about it.” He stammers, feeling his fingers tremble against your skin, hand still resting on your thigh, “D-do- do you? Um, think about it?” 

“Yeah.” You whisper, voice shaking as you reach down to lay your hand over his, letting your fingers slide between the gaps between his knuckles until they intertwine, gripping each other tightly, there was no chance the other could float away. 

The silence shifts to a different type of tension, a thickness in the air so palpable, it makes it just as hard to move as it does to breathe. The two of you stare at the interlocked hand resting on your thigh, stuck in a game of chicken of who dares to make the first move into the uncharted territory you’ve entered. 

“I- I’ve never-” 

“Me either.” Frankie interjects, cutting off the end of your statement.

It’s almost humorous to admit it out loud, like the both of you didn’t already share every detail of your lives with one another, and had somehow managed to let this fact fall between the cracks.

The two of you let out quiet laughs to yourselves, finding comfort in the comradery to work up enough courage to let your gazes meet again, wondering if Frankie can see the same yearning in your eyes as you see reflected in the soft brown his. 

“MacKenzie, I- I-” he mutters, scrunching his face with his swallow, trying to compose himself, “I only wanna do what you wanna do. I don’t- um, I don’t want you to think that if- if you don’t want to, o-or whatever, that I would be mad. I promise I would never, ever be mad at you because of that. Y-you know that, right?” 

“I know.” 

There’s not a part of you that doubts it. Not for a second. You know that there’s no one else on the face of this earth you trust more than him. 

There could be no one else but him. 

“You know I would never be mad at you either, right?” You ask, relieved as you watch Frankie gently nod his head. 

You’re not sure if it’s instinct or the weight of the tension that makes you lean into him, foreheads pressing together so that the messy curls of his sleepy hair are tickling your skin. You can hear how hard his heart is beating, waiting on your every breath as he leans back into you. 

“I want to. I want you, Frankie.” 

“F-fuck- Are you sure?” He asks, his free hand creeping across the sheets, carefully sliding up your thigh and under his sweatshirt you’re wearing, letting his fingers toy at the softness of your stomach and the waistband of your shorts. 

“I’m sure.” You whisper back, your own hand traveling up his leg and towards the tented fabric of his pajama bottoms. 

“I-if it’s too much, t-tell me to stop, okay? I promise I’ll take care of you, MacKenzie.” 

“I know you will. I trust you, Frankie.” 

“O-okay.” 

“Okay.” 

It’s then your mouths crash together in a messy dance of tounges and teeth, an instant electricity igniting in your core with anticipation and want. It’s frantic yet sensual, the way there’s nothing more you want than him, but can’t bear to miss a moment to take it all in, savoring every second you melt into him.

As your hands wander across each other’s bodies, Frankie shifts you to lay on your back so he can cage his frame over yours, the ends of his fingers barely daring to roam any farther than just below your hips or too far above your stomach. 

“C-can I take off your shirt?” He asks, already breathless at just the sight of you underneath him. 

“Technically your shirt, Morales.” You smirk, making his cheeks turn even more pink at the way you giggle when you say his name. 

“It’s yours now, looks way better on you than it does on me. Drives me fucking crazy seeing you in my clothes, Kenz.” He grins, carefully tugging your sweatshirt and the shirt underneath it above your head as you lift up your arms, helping him wriggle it free. 

As you pop out from under the fabric, the first thing you notice is the way Frankie’s jaw is hanging open, eyes wide as can be as they stay glued to your bare chest. 

“Holy shit.”  Frankie whispers to himself, tongue darting between his lips, staring at the way your nipples have hardened from being exposed and aroused. “Um, w-wow.” 

Seeing you topless sparks something in him to do the same, reaching over his shoulder to tug his t-shirt off his back and over his head, leaving nowhere for the heave of each heavy rise and fall of your chests to hide. 

Slowly, Frankie lets his hands slide up your stomach until he’s palming your breasts, grouping each one in his hands, making your breath hitch in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against your sensitive buds. 

He leans down to kiss you, starting at your lips before trailing down your neck and collarbone, until he reaches your chest, carefully kissing each handful he has in his grasp. 

You’ve never felt your core ache the way it does now, throbbing with want and need for more, just from the way Frankie’s groping you. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling- you’ve touched yourself before with this exact scenario playing in your mind, but never has it made you feel like this. 

“Y-you can take off my shorts, i-if you want.” 

“O-kay.” 

The gentleness of Frankie’s gaze makes your heart skip a beat, the chocolate brown of his eyes locked on yours as he scoots himself down the bed until he finds himself settled between your legs, now parted open for him. 

It’s then you’re overtly aware that Frankie is about to see you completely naked, a new wave of anxiety crashing through you as heat rises in your cheeks and makes you fidget the fabric of his sheets between your fingers. 

“I- I- I’m not wearing cute underwear. S-sorry.” You stammer, wincing as Frankie’s thumbs begin to dip below your waistband. 

“Seriously, Kenz?” He chuckles, pausing in his tracks to shake his head in disbelief, “Do you really think I care what underwear you have on right now?” 

“Well, n-no, but-” 

“You really think I’m about to turn down having sex with you because you’re not in the right underwear? That you won’t even have on in like, three seconds?” Frankie snickers, trying to help ease your clearly visible nerves. 

“Shut up.” You sigh, rolling your eyes as you playfully swat at him, forgetting about the fact you were topless and immediately clamming up again as you felt your breasts sway against your chest. “S-sorry, I- I’m just kinda nervous.” 

“Why are you nervous?” Frankie questions gently, wrapping his hand around your calf, thumb softly circling your skin. 

“Well you’re about to see me naked for the first time, Frankie. I think that’s a pretty fair reason to be nervous.” You force the stifled laugh stuck in your throat, attempting to uphold any confidence you have left in your facade. 

“You’re about to see me naked too, Kenz. Would it make you feel better if you saw me pantless first?” 

He says it like he’s teasing, but you know there’s a part of him that’s serious- that he’d do anything to make you feel better, even something as simple as being the first to forgo any clothes on his bottom half. 

“No, I know, Frankie, it’s just-” 

“Do you know how beautiful I think you are?” 

It catches you off guard, how quick he is to stifle your protest, the warmth of his words flushing your cheeks, now shifting to fit the delicate grin that’s growing between them. 

“You’re so beautiful, MacKenzie. Everything about you, I swear.” 

He must feel the butterflies churning in your stomach, his hands sliding down your thighs to grab your sides, leaning over to press soft kisses just above your waistband. He stares up at you once more, giving each other subtle nods of reassurance as his fingers play with the elastic, carefully helping you to lift your hips just enough to shuffle your bottoms down your legs until they’re a crumpled pile on the floor. 

It eases the tension that’s built throughout your body as you watch in real time how Frankie’s brain short circuits, mesmerized by the view that’s revealed itself between your legs. You timidly squirm your lower half against the sheets, just enough to feel the sticky warmth of your arousal that’s been pooling since the minute you stepped foot in Frankie’s bedroom. 

“H-holy- holy fuck. O-oh my god.” Frankie murmurs to himself, eyes locked on the puffy, wet mess of your pussy, “MacKenzie, I- wow. C-can, um, can I touch you?” 

“Mmhmm. Y-you can touch me, Frankie. F-fuck, I want you to. Please.” You whisper, letting your legs part for him more, clit pulsing with anticipation to feel Frankie’s fingers. 

“I-if it doesn’t feel good o-or, you know, you want me to stop, just tell me, okay?” 

“Okay, Frankie.” 

You didn’t even know it was possible to feel this wound up, every throb of your core pulsing through your body with so much intensity you’re convinced you may explode if Frankie doesn’t touch you this second. 

The pads his fingers gently slide over your swollen lips, collecting the slick that clings to them before he brings them to your clit, his precise and delicate touch still making you gasp the moment he starts to circle around your sensitive nub. He swirls his fingers with the lightest touch like you’re made of glass, scared he’ll break you if he dares to push too hard. 

“You can, fuck- you can press more if you want.” 

“Okay. I just- I didn’t wanna hurt you, or anything.” 

The corner of your lips curl with a soft smile, the stiffness in your muscles relaxing with how warm and safe he makes you feel. 

“I-in the same place, though? Same circles, just like, more pressure?” He asks, quietly calculating his next move as you shake your head in response. 

Frankie begins to circle again, slowly increasing the weight of his fingers against your clit, brushing against it in just the right way to make you whimper in delight. 

“Oh my god-” You sigh, breath hitching in the back of your throat. 

“Good oh my god, or bad oh my god?” Frankie questions, terrified he’s done something to upset you. 

“No- no, good oh my god. K-keep doing that.” You stammer, pulse quickening as a familiar tingle of pleasure begins to build in your stomach. 

Your reassurance gives Frankie the boost of confidence he needs, drawing tight circles around your nub with the pads of his fingers for a few moments, until his thumb takes over, leaving his middle two fingers free, ghosting over your entrance. 

There’s a louder moan as Frankie barely slips his middle finger inside of you, lightly prodding in and out of your hole, welcoming the new fullness in the warmth and wet of your walls. 

He pumps a few more times, letting his finger sink deeper with each stroke until he’s knuckle deep, reaching further than any spot you’ve been able to feel yourself. It’s when a second digit joins his first that you feel nearly breathless, the stretch and sting making you wince for a moment as you adjust, realising how much thicker and stronger his fingers are than your own when you touch yourself. 

Frankie immediately notices your tense expression, quickly pulling back, raising his hands like he’s been caught in the act, guilt ridden look painted across his face. 

“Fuck, Kenzie, are you okay? Did I hurt you? Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

“No, no, it’s okay, Frankie! It feels good, I promise, your fingers are just a lot bigger than mine.” 

He tilts his head in confusion for a second until the lightbulb clicks with him that he’s not the only one in the room who's ever been horny and taken care of themself to help solve their problem. 

“Wh-what do you think about? Wh-when, when you touch yourself?” He asks with a quiet caution. 

“I- I think about you, Frankie.”

You answer without hesitation. Not to appease him, not to convince yourself, but because it’s the truth. You’ve thought about him more times than you can count. 

Your answer ignites another spark of self-assurance in him, carefully letting his thumb swirl against your clit as his middle finger gently slides back into your entrance, working up to the same tempo he was at a few moments ago. 

“I think about you, too. All the time.” He confesses, a willing admittance now that you’re laying your cards out on the table for him. 

“Well, there was one time, a long time ago, I thought about Orlando Bloom after I watched Pirates of the Caribbean.” 

You’re not sure what spurs on your unnecessary addition to your comment, but it makes you and Frankie both snort, needing a moment to compose yourself from your fit of giggles. 

“Are you trying to tell me you’re really into pirates?” Frankie laughs, biting down on his lip. 

“No, you dork! That’s not- Jesus, you know what, forget I ever said anything, okay?” You sigh, rolling your eyes at Frankie, trying to will away the reds and pinks that plague your cheeks. 

“Your secret’s safe with me, Kenz, don’t worry.” He teases, his smile slowly shifting to a stoic sort of concentration as he stares down at his fingers pressed against your pussy. “I- I wanna try something.” 

“What?” 

“Can I um, can I go down on you?” 

“Wait, really?” 

Despite your own inexperience, you weren’t naive enough to ignore the rumblings from friends of friends, or stories of girls on your soccer team, constantly complaining about how all their boyfriends wanted them to suck their dicks with nothing in return. They’d claim it was gross, or weird, or that it would taste disgusting, so you’d be hard pressed to not believe that every boy under the sun mostly likely found themselves in the same school of thought. 

“Do you not want me to?” Frankie questions, trying to hide the small pang of disappointment you’re sure he feels in his chest at your puzzled reaction. 

“N-no, it’s just that- I didn’t think that- I thought guys thought that was gross.” 

“What? Who said that?” Frankie scoffs. 

“I don’t know, like, Sarah and Morgan from the soccer team always complained about how their boyfriends never wanted to because they said it was gross or whatever.” 

“Well Sarah and Morgan’s boyfriends have a single brain cell left between them after all the hits they’ve taken during football this season.” 

The two of you laugh again, finding relief in the way your friendship prevails through the discomfort. 

“You really don’t think it’s gross?” 

“No. I- I think it’s kinda hot.” 

It’s now Frankie’s cheeks that are flushed with crimson, trying his best to hide his embarrassment. You can tell he has more he wants to say from the way his eyes dart between yours and the bed, forcing you to tilt your head with that little nod he knows means that you’ll keep pestering him until he breaks. Lucky for you, it won’t take much. 

“Santi stole this DVD from his cousin's house, and honestly most of it was so stupid because obviously it's all fake. Like, no one’s that excited to get fucked at a doctor’s office. But anyways, there was this one part at the beginning where uh- where the guy goes down on the girl and I- um, I don’t know. I- I wanted to try it, I guess.” 

“Really didn’t think I was gonna have to worry about not picturing Santi in my head tonight.” 

You and Frankie giggle as you pretend to gag at the thought of Santi becoming a part of you losing your virginity, praying there never comes a day he finds out he’s in part to thank for Frankie’s peaked curiosity. 

“I- I want you to. If you want to.” 

“I want to. Fuck, I wanna taste you so bad.” 

The pace of your pulse begins to quicken again, watching the way Frankie’s face lights up as he races to position himself between your legs, laying flat against the mattress with his face hovering above your heat, his hot, trembling breath tickling your folds. 

You swear he licks his lips before his mouth meets you, but the slow, long drag of his tongue across your clit already has your head thrown back against his pillow, the warmth and wetness lighting you up from the inside out with jolts of electric pleasure. 

He repeats it a few more times, languidly lapping in smooth and steady strokes, each with just a little more pressure than the last. It’s instinctual, how you buck your hips towards his face, like your body knows it wants more before your brain can process it, signaling to Frankie you’ve given him the okay to keep going, to give you more. 

Little gasps escape your parted lips as his tongue moves faster, circling your clit the same way he had with his thumb, making your body melt into the mattress. It’s almost unearthly, how good it feels, little fires igniting in your stomach with every flick of his tongue. 

You don��t mean to startle him with how loudly you whimper as he intensifies the pressure, mouth still latched around your clit while his brown eyes peek up at you, breathlessly nodding to him that he shouldn’t dare to stop now. 

He takes it as a sign to test the waters even further, letting his middle finger be sucked into the warmth of your velvety walls before ever so carefully sliding in another. The stretch is still there but the sting has faded, his fingers a welcomed addition to ease the way you realize you’ve been clenching around nothing, subconsciously desperate to fill the empty ache in your core. 

Inch by inch, he sinks them deeper until you feel him bump against a soft spot inside you that makes you scream in a way you’ve never felt before, fireworks exploding everywhere in your body as his tongue and fingers work in tandem. 

A familiar tingle rapidly begins to build at the base of your spine, except the same type of tingle you’ve experienced alone has never multiplied and compounded in the same way this one does. 

Desperate for something to grab on to, one hand fists at Frankie’s sheets, the other, shooting down to the messy curls of his hair, burying your fingers until they disappear under his unkempt locks. 

You’re not sure if you’re so pleasure drunk you can’t think straight, but you swear you can feel that stupid, smug smirk pressed against your pussy as you hold onto him for dear life. 

He keeps the same pace with his tongue, fingers prodding in just the right spot to make you feel like you’re losing control, limbs numb and shaking like jello as you feel the tingle creep down your legs and up through your chest. 

“F-Frankie, I- oh fuck- fuck, oh my god, fuck, I- I- oh my go-ahhhhhhhhhh-”  

It’s all consuming, the way the pleasure washes over you, like waves crashing into the shoreline- relentless and never ending. There’s a moment you’re convinced your body’s left this planet, floating off in space in a cloud of endless ecstasy. 

You’re not sure how long you’re lost in the electricity of it all- Minutes? Hours? Years? You’d believe any and all of the above. Your chest rises and falls with each heavy breath as you come to, greeted with the image of Frankie still settled between your legs, wild haired and goofy grinned. 

“Frankie…. Holy fuck.” 

A beaming, boyish smile lights up across his face at the way you’re panting, wiping the shiny slick stained around his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Yeah? D-did it feel good? Did you um- did you-” 

“Yeah. Holy shit. Remind me to thank Santi’s cousin if I ever meet him.” 

“Jesus Christ…” Frankie sighs, rolling his eyes at your giggles, heart melting at the way he can’t hide his rosy cheeks and curled lips every time he looks at you, “It felt good though? Like, Actually?” 

“Yeah, it felt really good, Frankie.” You coo, watching Frankie prop himself up to sit back on his haunches, letting your gaze wander down his bare chest until you reach the clearly tented fabric of his pajama pants, lingering just long enough for him to notice where you’re staring. 

Silent tension fills the room again, the both of you realizing that you’ve only conquered one part of the journey you’ve embarked on together, and that the second half of your travels pose many more risks than the first. Frankie is the only one you want by your side as you brave your adventure together. 

With a little push, your back parts with his mattress, sitting up to close the gap between you. You’re close enough now that your hands can roam up his thighs, softly palming at the stiff bulge straining under his pants. 

“Oh f-fuck-” Frankie stutters, jaw going slack with ever pass your hand makes over his erection. 

“Can I take off your pants, Frankie?” You whisper, burying your head in the crook of his neck, craning your head just enough so that the hot words of your breath dance in his ear. 

You can barely finish your sentence before Frankie’s scrambling off the edge of the bed, standing up straight to give you the easiest access to shuffle his pajamas down while you kneel on the mattress. 

You pray Frankie can’t feel the way your fingers shake as they sink under his waistband and brush against his stomach, pulling his bottoms down just slow enough to memorize the subtle V that sinks between his hips, or the soft trail of barely there brown hair under his belly button that thickens with every tug. 

With one final breath, you slide them down enough to finally free what’s been hiding underneath, his length fully hard, bobbing as it springs free. This must have been what it felt like for Frankie, understanding the way his eyes went wide and brain went blank after he saw you for the first time.

It’s not like it’s a surprise to you, the concept of what he’s had tucked away in his pants.

What does, is how the sight of it nearly knocks the wind out of you. 

“F-Frankie… Holy shit.” 

“What? I-is something wrong?” He winces, immediately bracing himself for the worst. 

“No, it’s just- just like, Holy shit, Frankie.” You reiterate, making it very clear you’re more than impressed as you gesture at what’s hanging in front of you. 

“O-oh, t-thanks.” He stutters, a sweet shyness overtaking him as a result of your admiration. 

You scoot yourself closer, a boldness overcoming you as you delicately wrap your hand around his length, slowly sliding it up and down his shaft. You pray that whatever you’re doing feels okay, but from the way Frankie’s whimpers and moans escape from his parted lips, you take it as a sign you’re safe to take another step further.

“Since you went down on me, do you want me to go down on-” 

“N-no!” He pauses, drowning his face in his palm for the way he’s panicking, making you drop him from your grasp, “No, I- uh- shit- sorry, sorry, no it’s just- No, not because I don’t want you to- b-believe me, I really want you to. Like, really want you to.” 

“O-okay, so?” 

He must feel awful for the puzzled and pained expression on your face, reaching with both hands to cradle your jaw, making sure your gaze is fixated on him. 

“I’m sorry, I promise nothing’s wrong, I just- fuck- I don’t wanna cum yet and I know if you go down on me, I will in like two seconds, and I wanna cum when we’re having sex. I-if you still wanna, ya know, have sex. Jesus, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I freaked out like that. I think I’m- I’m nervous, too. ” 

The top of your teeth graze your lower lip, batting your lashes in heavy, long blinks, your lips curling in a sympathetic smile that you’re not alone in your uneasiness. Finding comfort in the uncomfortability, together. Knowing how easy it would be for him to play it all off like no big deal, or pretend to mask the confidence he lacks, and yet, he doesn’t, makes you want him even more. 

“Do you still want to? I- I’m nervous too, but I want to. It makes me feel less nervous that it’s with you.” 

The tender kiss he plants on your lips as your bodies move in sync down the bed is the only answer you need, shuffling backwards towards the pillows while Frankie hovers his body over you, mouths only parting to let you settle into the mattress. 

Each kiss becomes more frantic and desperate than the last, mouths melting together as your tongues wrestle. The way he kisses you is all consuming, enough to make you feel like the only people in the world that exist in this moment are you and him. 

“You sure you want to?” He gasps, fighting for his words to escape his parted lips. 

“I’m sure.” You whisper back, barely soft enough for him to hear. 

The two of you nod, Frankie shifting his weight to reach across you, shuffling through the drawer of his nightstand until he fishes out the box of condoms he has hidden away. He sits back on his knees, carefully ripping a square from the line of packages, tossing the rest over the side of the bed. He’s even more delicate as he tears the edge of the foil he’s holding in his hands, removing the rubber and methodically rolling it down over his shaft. 

“It’s on right... Right?” 

“Yeah. I practiced putting them on earlier this week so I didn’t look like a complete idiot when I tried to do it the first time. Although I think telling you that probably makes me look like an even bigger idiot.” 

“No it doesn’t,” You softly reassure him, “I’d rather have you do that than put it on wrong. I don’t want any of your babies yet, Morales.” 

Yet. 

You’re not sure what makes your brain decide to add those three letters into your sentence. You’re also not sure why you don’t hate that it did. There’s a part of you that thinks there’s a chance that maybe Frankie didn't hear it, but you know that boy would die before he stopped hanging onto every word that fell from your lips. 

There’s a part of you that also swears he’s trying with everything in him to keep from smiling. 

Your attention shifts with Frankie’s body, hovering back over yours with his fist wrapped around the base of his shaft, sinking his hips to line himself up with your entrance. His tip brushes against your clit, a familiar jolt of pleasure swirling in your stomach at how you clench around nothing, anxious and aching to feel him inside you. 

“I-if it’s too much, or it doesn’t feel good, or you wanna stop, just-” 

“I know, Frankie. I’ll tell you, I promise.” 

Your low exhale syncs with Frankie’s gulp, each of you bracing yourselves as you finally feel his tip breach inside you. You try your best to relax, squirming your bottom half with each inch Frankie sinks himself deeper. You’re sure there’s a wince as he pushes past the halfway point- not painful, but a sting and stretch in a way you’ve never felt. Frankie freezes, gently grabbing your hip. 

“You good, Kenzie? You want me to stop?” 

“No, I’m okay, just kind of stings a little, but it still feels good. Maybe if you didn’t have such a big dick, it wouldn’t be a problem.” You tease, letting out a little huff of laughter. 

It’s now Frankie’s turn to scrunch the muscles of his face, cocking your head at the grit of his teeth. 

“Frankie, are you okay?” 

“Yup. Yup, I’m good. When you laughed it squeezed my dick and it felt really good and I’m trying not to make a fucking fool of myself right now.” 

“Sorry, no more laughing, got it.” You grimace, desperately trying not to giggle at Frankie’s pained concentration as he shakes his head at you. “Y- you can keep going, though.” 

“F-fuck, o-okay.” 

There’s another deep breath before he’s pushing his hips towards you, taking his time as you feel the pain start to shift to indescribable pleasure, the feeling of how full he is inside of you making every wire in your brain short circuit. 

“Holy fucking shit.” Frankie whispers under his breath, “Fuck, you feel so good, MacKenzie.” 

You wish you had the words to tell him how you feel the same, but the best you can muster is a muffled moan that escapes from your unhinged jaw, brain empty at the sweet stretch of his fullness, stagnant inside you. 

F-fuck Frankie. Oh my god.” You murmur, letting the muscles of your face untense so the weight of your eyelids can flutter open, soaking in the image of Frankie above you. The rest of your body follows, slowly beginning to relax as you adjust, yearning for more than just his hips flushed against yours. “Y-you can move, Frankie.” 

He lets his arms sink from the plank he’s holding, letting your chests flush together so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck, groaning into your skin with the first thrust of his hips, steadily sliding in and out of your heat, savoring every second of the sensation. 

“You still okay, baby?” Frankie coos into your ear, the new nickname only adding to the way you want to clench down around his length as he keeps his languid pace, dragging his cock along the warmth and wetness of your walls. 

“Mhmmm. You can go faster, i-if you want. F-fuck, it feels so good, Frankie.” 

The way you whimper and whine his name sets off a low rumble deep in his chest, lips locking with yours as you feel him pump just a little harder, his length nudging the same, savory spot he had found before with his fingers. Your hand shoots up to wrap around his bicep, nails marking crescent moons in his skin. 

Every move he makes is solely based on your reaction, reading the way your body responds to him before daring to take a step further. Your iron grip and sweet moans are enough to spur him on further, a steady rhythm now working through each thrust of his hips. 

There’s a new knot in your stomach that starts to tighten, building in your gut and slowly creeping its way to spread throughout your body. The coarse hairs curling at the base of his shaft brush against your clit just enough to spark a jolt of electricity to your core, bucking your hips into his with each thrust. You’re desperate to reach the same high he had given you before, eager to ease the ache of your sensitive bud. 

Frankie picks up on the way you rut back into him, snaking his hand down your front, making just enough space between your bodies to let the pads of his fingers find your clit. The pressure he adds with the circles and swirls makes your breath hitch in the back of your throat, overwhelmed with arousal by how all encompassing Frankie is. 

It’s hard to believe how quickly you find yourself becoming addicted to him, your body yearning to become one with his and never separate. You want your heart, your soul, for all of it to be his, and only his, to be unable to find where you end and he begins. 

The only thing you want is to be his. 

With each stroke, your pussy flutters faster around his length, the tingle that had formed at the base of your spine now seeping through your veins, teetering on the brink of collapse. 

“F-fuck- fuck, Frankie, don’t stop. Fuck, I- I think I’m- I’m close.” 

If it was anyone else, there would be no words to describe the embarrassment from the pathetic whimper you let out at the way Frankie groans while he punches into you. A look of pained concentration splays across his face, focusing with every brain cell he has left to make sure you finish first. 

“Shit- I- I- fuck, I’m close, too.” He stutters, chest heaving in between each word. 

He presses his forehead into yours, meeting you with the tacky sheet of sweat that now clings to his skin and dampens his curls. His scent, his warmth, the weight of his body laid across yours- you almost dare to wish that this moment, this feeling, would never end. 

But the way he whispers your name, each letter warm and tickling your skin, a sweet symphony only he can sing is what sends you over the edge, pushing you past the point of no return. 

“M-MacKenzie… f-fuck, MacKenzie-”  

Each syllable is an explosion inside you, lighting you up to send sparks through every last limb until you’re sobbing his name, singing his own sweet song back to him. 

“Frankie, Frankie, Frankiefrankiefrankie-ahhhhh-” 

The dam inside you finally breaks, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you as you squeeze around him, swallowed whole by the electricity of it all. 

There’s not much your mind can process after you snap, but there’s enough strength left to keep your gaze locked on Frankie and the way he gasps as his jaw drops after you’ve finished. He’s just as lost as you, relishing in your afterglow as he chases his own high, each thrust more sloppy and erratic than the last. 

“Fuck, fuck, holy shit MacKenzie, fuck, I’m gonna cum so ha-aaaaahhh-” 

There’s only one last shift of his hips before he’s spilling into the condom, a final moan that follows his release as he collapses into you. Your chests rise and fall in sync, breaths heavy as you pant in the soft silence that fills the room.

The quiet brings a gentle comfort, basking in the bliss that radiates off each of you as you let yourselves drift back to earth, praying it gives you enough time to remember how to speak. 

It’s Frankie who arrives back first, too consumed with your own journey back to hear the way his voice breaks as he carefully whispers your name. 

“MacKenzie?” 

“Yeah, Frankie?” 

“C-can I tell you something?” 

“Anything.” 

His sweet call brings you back, thumb brushing against the warmth of his cheek, waiting on every word he's working himself up to say.

“MacKenzie, I- MacKenzie, I- I think I love you.” 

It's then you're sure your heart stops- four little letters forcing a smile so wide across your face, your positive your cheeks may hurt for days after.

Maybe, if you're lucky, they'll keep hurting like this for the rest of your life.

“Can I tell you something, Morales? I think I might just love you, too.” 

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@kungfucapslock @vannabanana1995 @beezusvreeland @guelyury

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs