#also why is franky saying it like a slur

[beanghostprincess]

Franky met Sanji and Usopp in the middle of their breakup arc and had to deal with the consequences of the "No, we are not dating but yes, I will have to be held back against my will from beating you up for hurting my boyfri- I mean ex-boyfriend- Our longnose" situation

[tieronecrush]

seven minutes in heaven (the bathroom)

frankie morales x f!reader

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: it's your roommate ben miller's birthday and he's invited the special forces guys over and asked you to invite some of your friends. the night comes down to a throwback game of seven minutes in heaven. you've been into frankie for months, so when your name and frankie's are pulled together, you can't help but wonder what can happen in seven minutes?

word count: 2.9k

warnings: mentions of a break up, alcohol use/drunkeness (benny), grumpy frankie, use of pet names (mariposa, hermosa, cariño), dirty talk in spanish (i hate conjugations so pls let me know if anything is wrong lol), mirror sex, unprotected sex, breathplay? (mouth gets covered), pls let me know if i am missing anything

“You gotta be kiddin’ me, man. Why are we playing this shit? We’re all grown adults,” Frankie huffs to your right in the small circle in yours and Ben Miller’s living room. His arms are crossed over his chest, gray t-shirt pulling taut at his shoulders. Warm brown eyes are rolling up to the ceiling under the brim of his Standard Oil hat that you swear is glued to his head — you’ve never seen him without for as long as you’ve lived with Benny — and it works to hide the luscious dark curls that fight to peek out around it.

“Oh, loosen up, Fish! We’re all here to have fun, so just play the game. Everyone here’s agreed to it, and it’s my fucking birthday so you have to do what I say!” Benny leans forward next to you on the couch, projecting his voice toward Frankie and gesturing vaguely around with his hands while his words start to slur together.

You laugh softly, patting Ben’s shoulder and nodding your head to get him to lean back on the couch again instead of trying to get in his friend’s face. Truth was, the prospect of this game did stir up some nerves in your stomach, even as an adult, but you wouldn’t dare go against Benny’s birthday wishes. So, you’re stuck playing Seven Minutes in Heaven with his Special Forces buddies, his brother, and a good mix of your friends that Benny has…taken a liking to.

It was one of the perks he got excited about when you’d come to him, a bit desperate, needing a place to live when your long term boyfriend of four years broke it off with you and asked you to move out. He agreed to have you in his guest room for the foreseeable future until you could scrounge up enough for rent somewhere on your own, and that first weekend he begged to throw you a “welcome party”, which was his ploy to get a bunch of your friends over for him to chat up.

That was a few months ago now, and it happened to also be the first time you met Frankie — Catfish to the Special Forces guys.

And since then, it’s been months filled with tension between you two, awkward interactions and quick touches to pass him drinks or him scooting behind you in your tiny kitchen when he was over. It was always heated with you two, electricity flowing with a current and waiting for a spark. But Frankie was a gentleman, never assuming or overly forthcoming, and you were, well, rusty. Not dating in four years really throws you for a loop when trying to hook up with someone.

Frankie’s eyes meet yours when your laugh reaches him, a flash of excitement evident in the widening of his pupils. A smile stretches across your face at him, shaking your head.

“Probably don’t want to go against this birthday boy, Frankie. He’s not afraid to guilt you into things, or worse, just bother the shit out of you until you do what he wants. Plus, nobody has to know what does or doesn’t happen behind the door.”

Ben whips his head towards you with an exaggerated shock in his face, Frankie’s chuckle low as everyone else laughs.

“Don’t give him any ideas about not fully immersing in the game. He’s just bein’ a grumpy old bastard.”

Benny turns away from you as Frankie rolls his eyes again, the birthday boy pulling out two names from the bowl in the center. It ends up being one of your friends and Santiago, which earns a cheer knowing his suave reputation. Once the two are back in the bathroom, the younger Miller brother sets a timer on his phone and everyone gets to chatting and drinking again. You and Benny argued back and forth before the party about using the other’s room for the game, finally deciding to use the hall bath for sake of neutrality. And clean sheets.

A handful of rounds have come and gone, people returning with smirks or poker faces, everyone trying to pull out any information from the participants. You have yet to go, and it’s the same case for Frankie. Benny’s been choosing the names for everyone, hiding them close to his chest and throwing them back in the bowl to be selected again.

You watch Ben pick out two new slips, reading your name off of the first one. Echoes of your quickening pulse thud in your ears, heat rooting across the nape of your neck. Ben’s eyes dart to Pope as he looks at the second slip of paper, and your stomach drops with disappointment from the high hopes you didn’t realize you had. Your own eyes fall to your lap as you wait to hear Santiago’s name out loud, molars biting the inside of your cheek to attempt to swallow your small pill of upset.

“And Fish.”

Your vision fills with Ben’s side profile, your stomach now doing somersaults as nerves begin to take over. Your mouth dries, tongue pushing against the roof of your mouth and sucking in your cheeks to try to conjure up any saliva. Frankie seems nearly as surprised, or is it nervous? Contempt? He’s hard to read at the moment; the only clues into his reaction are the split second of widened eyes and rubbing his palms up and down his denim-clad thighs before he stands and looks at you.

The hooting and hollering start when you get up from your spot on the couch, small steps leading Frankie and yourself down the hallway away from the party and into your bathroom. Nothing is said as he closes the door and locks it, his large frame turning back to face you across the small tiled floor while he leans back on the door’s surface.

His eyes lock on you, pinprick shocks following their wake as he takes you in from head to toe. There’s still a neutral expression on his face, hands slipped into his front pockets. Your own gaze fixed on your tray of makeup at the side of vanity, anxious fingers reaching out to fidget with a lip gloss. The silence in the room is deafening, the muffled sounds of the group only filling the dead air so much. After what feels like an eternity, you can’t take it, clearing your throat and speaking up.

“We don’t, um, obviously don’t have to do anything.”

You’re still not looking at Frankie when you hear his gruff voice respond.

“Is that what you want, mariposa? To do nothing?”

He grabs your attention with the nickname, a swirl of butterflies batting their wings wildly in your gut when you take in a new expression on his face. Tender eyes with a flirty smirk. Pushing off of the door, his strides take him only two steps before he’s in front of you, hand pulling his hat up and the other raking through his hair in a nervous twitch. Your lower back presses into the edge of the countertop, mouth blubbering like a fish as you try to formulate a sentence.

“Cause, if I’m honest, I don’t want to do nothing,” Frankie’s hand finds the counter at your side, one arm brushing against your shirt. His other reaches for your cheek, hovering over close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating off of his palm, “I’ve really wanted to kiss you since I met you. Can I please do that, hermosa?”

“Yeah, you can, Frankie,” comes out breathy and pathetic from your mouth, half a whimper as you wait for the moment you’ve thought of since you saw him in your kitchen.

In an instant, Frankie’s lips are on yours in a gentle but confident kiss. His hand has found your cheek finally, laying passively before it grips tighter and tilts your head back to give him more leverage over you. The embrace turns heady, his mouth slanted into yours as the two of you move together quickly to make up for all the lost moments from months prior.

When his tongue melds against yours, a soft moan slips out and is swallowed into his mouth. The noise pushes Frankie toward you, close to the point that his front is pressed entirely against you. You can feel how hard he is, the way his bulge digs in against you sending another moan out of your mouth. His large hands leave their places on your cheek and the counter, grabbing fistfuls of your hips and your ass. Frankie pulls away enough to speak against your swollen lips, short and demanding.

“Up.”

With one effortless lift as you jump, you're seated on the countertop, and Frankie’s kissing you hard again. Your own hands rest one on his shoulder, the other reaching to take his cap off and discard it on the ground, fingers combing through his hair. An arm wraps around your lower back, tugging you across the cool stone surface to the edge. His other hand grips the back of your thigh, pulling your legs further apart to slot himself between them, grinding himself against your clothed center. The feeling of pressure on your clit makes your head fall back from his kiss, a whimper pulling out of your chest as your hips work to catch more of the feeling.

“Y’know, I’m pretty sure we don’t have much time left before someone’s gonna be banging down the door, but I want you so bad right now, hermosa.”

Your head drops forward again, staring into Frankie’s eyes that are very clearly blackened with desire even in the low lighting of the bathroom. Licking your bottom lip, you nod quickly and mutter out.

“Fuck me, Frankie. I don’t care how fast or rough you need to be, just please fuck me.”

A groan comes from him at your words as he grabs you again, dragging you off the counter to stand on your feet again. His hands on your hips turn you around to face the mirror, making eye contact in the reflection.

“Take your shorts and panties off for me, cariño. Gotta be quick.” He winks at you, a light smack to your ass before he pops the button on his jeans and drags the zipper down. You do the same with your denim shorts, dropping the material along with your underwear to your ankles, stepping one out.

Behind you, Frankie has pulled his pants and boxers halfway down his thighs. One of his hands finds your lower back, gently coaxing you to bend forward on the counter. His other set of fingers prod through your folds, a breathy moan coming from him as he feels your wetness.

“This all from me kissing you, hermosa?”

“Nah uh. It’s from just being in the same room as you all night.”

“Mmm, you’ve wanted me that bad, angel? Should’ve said something. We could’ve been having lots of fun these past few months.”

“I was—I was shy.”

Frankie shakes his head as he looks at you in the mirror, a devilish smirk on his face.

“Don’t think you’re shy now, cariño. Eres una chica traviesa (You’re a naughty girl),” his fingers slip into your entrance for a few ticks, a gasp fogging the glass in front of you as he pulls them out, “You ready for me, mariposa? Might be a lot to take.”

He winks with a smug look on his face, messy curls hanging over his forehead and framing his face.

“Francisco, just fuck me already. We’re losing time that you could be inside of me.” Your frustration bubbles over out of impatience. He waits for another beat to tease you, and when you open your mouth to complain again, he drives his cock into you.

His smugness was granted — the way he’s filling you up completely is unlike anyone you’ve had before.

As if he knew your reaction before it happened, his hand covers your mouth to muffle the loud moan that jerks out of you. Frankie wastes no time, his thrusts starting fast and hard from behind.

“This what you wanted, mariposa? Wanted me to fuck your hard and fast? A mi chica le gusta sucio, no? (My girl likes it dirty, right?)”

Your response is stifled by his hand, the only sounds in the room Frankie’s low voice and the slap of his thighs against your ass. Your eyes screw shut at the feeling of his cock dragging in and out of your walls quickly, the head of his length brushing that extra sensitive spot inside of you.

“Nah uh, cariño. Eyes open. Want you to watch me fuck you like the dirty girl you are.” Frankie’s hand squeezes your ass tightly, a yelp coming out of your mouth from behind his hand. You open your eyes and look at him in the mirror, sweat building on your forehead and your exposed collarbone. He makes eye contact with you in the reflection, his hips fucking into you rougher.

“Fuck, don’t you look pretty taking my cock? Es todo lo que soñaste, hermosa? (Is it everything you dreamed of, beautiful?)”

Your tongue pokes out of your mouth, licking the salty skin of his fingers. Frankie groans quietly and shifts the position of his hand, two of his thick fingers pressing in between your lips to fill your mouth.

“Chupa, cariño. Suck.”

Following his demand, your cheeks concave and your tongue swirls around them in your mouth. Frankie’s eyes darken further as he watches in the reflection, thrusts becoming sloppier.

“‘M so close, cariño, don’t think I can last much longer. You gotta be quiet while I take care of you, yeah?”

Without an answer, his fingers slip from your mouth. His other hand finds your lower stomach, pulling you up to stand with your shoulders against his chest, cock filling you up with each drag of his hips. The fingers wet with your saliva are quick to circle your clit, the extra stimulation barreling you towards the edge.

“Oh fuck, Frankie! Yes, yes, yes!” Your whines are as quiet as you can make them, the back of your head pressing hard into his shoulder as his next thrust sends your vision black and muscles taut. Every thought in your brain seeps away, pleasure filling every crevice of you.

Your walls squeeze around his cock, nails digging into his arm around you as he fucks you through your orgasm while chasing his own.

“Fucking hell, mariposa. Pussy’s fucking milking my cock, god. So tight. Eres tan perfecta para mi (You are so perfect for me).”

He thrusts his cock one, two, three more times before he pulls out quickly, replacing the feeling of you with his fist and repeating your name over and over under his breath. The sound of your come around his cock nearly drops you to your knees to take him in your mouth, but the looming pressure of time keeps you standing, compromising by bending over the counter again. Ropes of his warm come paint your ass and your wet cunt, a whine falling from your lips as his own soft, melodic whimpers fill your ears.

It’s quiet in the room except for the gasps of breaths you both take to calm down, eye contact made through the mirror as you both smile widely at each other. Nothing else is spoken as Frankie grabs tissues from the shelf above the toilet, wiping his come from your skin. Before he clean it up entirely, you swipe a fingertip through one streak, bring it to your lips to suck it clean. His mouth hangs open at the sight and you smirk satisfied, winking before you pull up your underwear and fasten your shorts up again.

Both of you are buttoning as a fist pounds on the door, the sound of a phone alarm following it. Benny’s voice booms from the other side, a cackle evident in his tone.

“Time’s up, boring fucks!”

Frankie looks at you with a sweet smile, nodding toward the door, “Ready?”

You exhale a chuckle and nod, taking a look in the mirror and making eye contact with Frankie as he looks at your reflection tenderly. Your hands brush at your hair, tapping the sweaty makeup back into your skin. Frankie shakes his head behind you, tugging you around by your belt loops. He leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Ladies first, mariposa.”

You step ahead of him, swinging the door open after twisting the lock undone and being met with a stumbling Benny on the other side.

He looks between the two of you, suspicion on his face as he tries to read your minds. Both of you have a poker face on, and he groans, shaking his head.

“Took you both long enough. What, were you fixing your clothes?”

“No, Frankie was just watching as I fixed up my makeup and had a catch-up. Nothing exciting for you to gossip about, Benny.”

He groans, marching back to the living room, “They didn’t do anything! Just fucking talked like losers.”

Frankie chuckles behind you, his warm palm rubbing against your lower back as you walk down the hall in front of him. His touch drops from you when you enter the party, both of you returning to your original seats and falling back into the conversation as the game switches to Truth or Dare.

Santiago glances at Frankie sitting next to him, chuckling to himself, “Zipper’s down, Fish.”

IF YOU WANT TO BE ON THE TAGLIST, PLEASE FILL THIS FORM OUT! thank you!

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[lilbitdepressed27]

Heyy… Can i ask for Tara x Reader? Where Tara and R (they have been dating for a very long time now) had a fight at the party and at the fight Tara says about ‘she’ll let go of R’ and then at the third act instead of Tara, R is about the fall and Tara is holding her. She’ll eventually has to let go of R. (reader might get a bit more than Tara did)

Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst but happy ending

WC: 3.4K

Authors note: hope you like it and sorry for the wait. Sorry for any mistakes. Also kinda of a rushed ending. Didn’t really now how to end this one but hope you enjoy:)

~~~~***~~~~

You clenched your jaw at what you were seeing. All day she had begged you to go to the stupid frat party. You had wanted to stay in and have the movie nigh that was planned. But no, some douche bag had invited your girlfriend to party and now she just had to go. She had begged you to go with the promise that she would stay by your side. You knew how much she had wanted to go back to normal. How much she wanted to live the life of a normal college student. So you had agreed.

But upon arriving to the party she had disappeared from your side. Leaving you alone at party you did not want to be in.

It wasn't long till you saw her again talking to that creep Frankie. When you and the group had first arrived in New York that guy had tried just about anything to get with Tara. Completely ignoring the fact that Tara has a girlfriend. You had not felt threatened not in the slightest. You had fully trusted Tara. Frankie was a pig and total creep. But as time went on you had become to feel, insecure? Tara had not payed any attention to Frankie. But as time went on you noticed that she also wouldn't stop his advances. Always humoring him when ever he would talk to her.

You had spoken to Tara about it. She had promised that she didn't care about him. That you shouldn't worry and that she didn't even notice. That the only person she could ever love was you. And you had believed her. But lately you had begun to, doubt that. The way she been acting towards you, and not even you but towards her own sister as well.

You and Sam were kinda of alike when came down to wanting to protect Tara. Maybe you were bit overprotective as well. You were just afraid, you had come close to losing Tara last year. You had been away at a soccer game when she was attacked. On a school bus on the way back to town when you had been called by your best friends mom. Judy had called you and you remember the emotions when you heard that Tara had been attacked. You'd never forget it. It was a reason why you were so protective of her. Losing the woman you love was something that had your heart in a tight fist.

Your eyes quickly searched the area when didn't see Tara. Catching her back side as she walked through the crowd. You quickly followed, wanting to make sure she was okay. Your first tightening up when you saw Frankie leading her by the hand up the stairs. You were quick to take a hold of the hand not being held by the creep.

"She's good down here."

"Oh hey babe. He's just gonna give me more beer." Tara spoke her words coming out more slurred than before. You avoided her gaze. Your eyes never leaving Frankie's.

"Yea we're just getting more drinks." He smirked down at you. His attitude only irking you more. Taking a few steps closer. Pulling on Tara, she had stumbled into you, her other wrist still being held by Frankie.

"No we're actually leaving. Now let her go."

"No I don't want to leave. Ugh y/n you're just like Sam. So fucking boring and paranoid. Just let me go."

"Oh you heard her. Let her go. She don't want you no more." He laughed.

Although the words hurt. You kept your grip on Tara. Even though she didn't deny what Frankie said. You took the last step towards him pushing him hard enough to lose his balance. He stumbled back causing him to let go of Tara. You pulled Tara towards you and down the steps. Sighing in relief when you saw Mindy and Anika standing there. You had gently pushed Tara into Anika's arms.

Before you could follow them towards the door, a hand roughly turned you around. You prepared for a punch but it never came. What came after was Sam showing up and tasing Frankie in the balls. You would have laughed but the way Tara had snapped had your group of friends leaving the house in a quick pase.

You watched as Tara argued with Sam. You knew Sam was taking everything Tara was saying to heart. Sam had spoken to you about wanting to go back to college. Wanting to chase the career of being a cop. You were happy for Sam, you wanted her to do what made her happy.

"-And you. What you can't be far from me for few fucking seconds?! Can't you fucking let me go for a few minutes without you hovering." She yelled at you.

You didn't think you were hovering or being clingy cause that's how she just made you feel. Clingy. You just wanted to make sure she was okay. She didn't experience the fear you went through when you almost lost her.

"Let you go?" You scoffed. "You mean let you go with that creep? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you even know what he was going to do?"

Tara stood there not being able yo say anything, she knew what she wanted to say but her mouth remained shut.

"Do you even care? Cause I've told you how I've felt but you've always pushed that talk a side, bottling everything up."

"Of course I care, I just want have some space. You have to let me go Y/n. I've already let you go."

You wanted to cry, but you bit your tongue in hopes of keeping your emotions in check. Was she breaking up with you? You couldn't understand what she was implying. After everything you both had gone through, was she really throwing it away?

"MURDER!!"

Everyones heads had snapped towards a girl who had been shouting at Sam. Going as far throwing a drink at Sam. Looking for an outlet for your emotions, your threw your own drink, it was a water bottle that you had only taken one sip from. Chucking the drink straight at the girl and hitting her directly on the forehead. The girl yelled some more before her own friends pulled her away.

You didn't turn around hearing Tara and the rest of the group walking away. Ethan giving a few napkins to Sam before also walking away. Once alone you finally let a few tears out.

"You know she didn't mean it like that." Sam spoke softly to you. She knew Tara would never yell at you like she just did, Tara was just taking out the anger she felt towards her at you. But the way you looked at Sam made her own tears build up. She knew how much you loved Tara. The words Tara had yelled at you were for sure knifes to the heart.

"Come on. Let's go home."

*

When you arrived at your shared apartment. A part of you wished that you had gotten your own apartment, and that you didn't share a room with someone who clearly thought you were clingy. She didn't say that but she clearly had implied that. And who might have broken up with you.

You heard Tara in your shared room. You sighed, you needed a change of clothing. You walked into the room, avoiding Tara's gaze as you searched for some sweats and a hoodie.

"Y/n I'm-Not right now Tara." Once finding the clothing, you left the room not wanting to talk to her in the moment, afraid you'd cry if you did.

*

Everything had happened so fast. From the killings being announced to the blame being put on Sam. Quinn had said that her dad wanted to talk to Sam. You had moved quickly following Sam out the door, Tara had also followed. Even though there had been some tension between you and Tara. From the phone call Sam had received when you had been heading to the station. You still held her hand as you hid from ghostface in a bodega.

Your heart hammering in your chest as you hand slipped Tara's hold when the shot gun rang out. Sam and Tara had gone one way and you the other way. Moving slowly as you crouched down eyes connecting with Sam as she looked at you through the gaps of the shelves. With your hands you motioned to tip over the shelf. She nodded, looking back at Tara to tell her the plane then looking back you with a nod.

Hearing ghostface grunt from the force of two shelves falling on him. You ran out of the store right behind Sam and Tara. Tara's hand finding yours again. The police had arrived not even a second later. They had taken the three of you into the station.

Ghostface was back. And this one wasn't playing around.

                  **~~~~**

You were sat back in your shared room, everyone had been gathered back at the apartment. After being released from the police everyone had met on campus. You had almost laughed when Tara had punched Gale. You knew she deserved it but a little part of you had felt a bit bad. She had lost the man she loved last year after all.

The emotions you had towards the fight with Tara had been pushed to the side. But now in a small moment of peace and silence. The emotions came back. The doubt, the insecurity, the feeling of Tara not loving you no more came back. You had just gotten changed, back from a shower. Sam, Chad, Mindy, Anika and Tara were in the living room or kitchen. Quinn in her room with some guy most likely.

The uncertainty of your relationship with the woman you love was-

"Y/n? Can we talk?"

"What is there to talk about. You made yourself pretty clear." You spoke as you leaned down to tie your shoes. You needed something to do with your hands. You couldn't look at Tara, cause you knew if you did you would burst into tears.

"Y/n please. I didn't mean what I said. I was I was just angry and I took it out on you. It wasn't fair to you." Tara moved to sit next you. She had regretted the second the words left her mouth. She had wanted to talk to you the second you arrived at the apartment with Sam. But the way you had brushed her off, she knew you needed space.

"But you know what they say, a drunk mind is speaks a sober heart. So there had to be some truth behind what you said." You said after a moment of silence. You could practically feel the tension in the room. You stood up, moving to leave the room but her hand shot out to taking to your wrist.

"Wait Y/n please, you have-Uh guys foods ready."

Knowing the conversation was put on pause, Tara let go of your wrist. Following you out the room. She couldn't help put have your words repeat in her head. Did you really think that she didn't want you around. Yes she's been stressed lately but never to the point where she didn't want you around. There were many times where she craved your presence. To be honest she didn't remember much from what she said last night. But from what Mindy told her, it wasn't good.

She took in the way you didn't look her way. The way you know felt uncomfortable around her. It was like the first time she met you. How closed off and shy you were. How you barely let anyone around you. The walls you around your heart had been easy for her to climb over. But now here she was once again on the outside. It was something that she hated to see.

The way you would shut down, she was told how you would get in trouble as a kid for showing too much emotion by your parents. How your excitement was always squashed down by others who did not care. Or how your last girlfriend had berated you for being too protective, too clingy, too...you. She had promised, swore that she'd never be like any of those people.

Seeing you not be yourself around her, was her fault. There was no one else to blame but herself.

*

Ghostface had attacked again. This time seriously injuring Anika. Almost succeeding in killing her. She had been rushed to the hospital, Quinn had not been so lucky.

The events that followed had been a bit of a blur for you. From trying to trap ghostface only for it to back fire and ghostface to successfully attacking Gale. Now the group was back in the theater turned shrine of all the past ghostfaces and their victims. You had stood back next to the ticket stand. 

"Hey.."

"Hey." You hated how, you know felt like you couldn't be yourself around Tara. Tara is the love of your life, she's your person. But you couldn't help the feeling.

"Y/n I hate this. Please. I didn't mean a single thing I said. I was angry and I know thats no excuse but I love you. I love you so much and I can't-Tara watch out!"

You pulled her towards you at the sight of Ghostface sneaking up behind her. You acted quickly. Kicking Ghostface in the stomach. Chad had arrived in time to help you as he also grabbed what ever he could to hurt Ghostface.

Everything had happened so quickly one second you were helping Chad and the next you had been knocked down by another ghostface. Tara had moved quickly to help you up. You tried to move to help Chad but was stopped by Sam. Ignoring the screams of Tara as you now also held her back.

You had no choice but to run away. Hoping to find a way out.

*

You still couldn't believe that it was Ethan and Quinn behind the masks. And the mastermind behind everything was Detective Bailey. You couldn't believe Mindy had been right.

"Come on Tara! Go you first." You helped her climb the side railing. "Sam! Hurry up!" You felt horrible leaving Kirby on the floor but you had no choice. Quickly following Sam. Tara stood on top helping you steady yourself on the ledge.

Tara took your hand as she followed Sam. Keeping a strong grip on your hand. She couldn't afford on losing you. Even if thing between you two were tense, she couldn't lose you. She'd rather die than to lose you which is why her grip only tightened when the gunshots rang out. Feeling your body weight pull on her arm as you slipped from the ledge. Your grip on her hand slipping, but you were quick to take a hold of the ledge.

Sam and Tara were able to take a hold of your wrist but your arm had been cut and your blood had made it hard to keep a good grip on you.

"Fuck. I can't, I can't grab on."

"Hold on baby. Please." Tara cried, as Ethan went under you and tried to stab you with his knife.

"Come on Y/n, I promise I'll be gentle."

"Fuck you." You desperately tried to take a hold on Tara's or Sam's hand. But you were slowly slipping. The sound of loud stomping footsteps had caused the three of you snapped your heads to the right, only to see a toothless Quinn.

"You guys are so fucked now."

"Tara. Tara!"

Her head looked back down at you. Her eyes filling with fear and tears. Your look of determination, but also acceptance?"

"Let me go."

"What? No!" She her head as she tried to tighten her grip on you. She wasn't sure what you were thinking, how you could possibly think that she'd let you go and let you fall to your certain death.

"Tara let me go. Trust me." You tried to show her that you weren't scared. That you knew what you were about to do. Moving your gaze to Sam. You knew Tara wouldn't let you go. You knew that she'd rather fall with you. But you couldn't have that. She needed to help her sister. You and Sam had shared a look. She nodded as she handed you the knife.

"Sam no!" Tara cried as her grip began to slip more, you were no longer trying to hold on to her. The moment your fingers grasped the knife, her hold completely slipped. Only being able to scream as she watched you fall in to Ethan's knife.

Sobbing as she watched you get stabbed more than once before you stabbed Ethan in the mouth. Faintly hearing a shot as she watched you fall to your side.

"Y/n! I'm coming. Just hold on baby. Hold on."

You really did try, but the pain you felt had been overwhelming.

*

The faint noise of a steady beep was heard when you came back to. Your eyes opening only to squint them at the bright light. The last thing you remember had been Tara leaning over you as she cried, her mouth had been moving but her voice had been muffled. Before you blacked out.

Now you were obviously in a hospital bed. Your tilted the side when you heard the familiar soft snores. Tara was sat by your bed side. Her hand lightly holding yours as she slept. Her head resting on the side of the bed next to your joined hands. She was sat in a way you knew was uncomfortable.

“Tara.”

At sound of your voice she shot up. Her eyes connecting to yours as they filled with tears. Barely able to keep in the sob that wanted to escape. She was quick to wrap you in a careful hug. You could feel her shoulders shaking as she hugged you. You were glad that she was okay. Your arms wrapped around her as well. Hoping to comfort her. You weren’t sure where your relationship stood with the girl but you still loved her.

“I thought I lost you.” Tara had broke down when she saw your unconscious body laying there. The dread and anguish that washed over had been immense.

“I’m right here Tara. I’m okay, are you and the others okay?”

She leaned back from the hug, but never let you hand go. Choosing to hold your hand in between hers in a strong grip.

“Yea. They’re okay. So is Chad. He’s fine. Out of surgery and looking to make a full recovery.” She took you in. The way your face was bit pale, from all the blood loss, the bruises and cuts that were more noticeable. But she noticed more was how you refused to look into her eyes.

“Y/n I’m sorry, I know what I said hurt you. At first I didn’t remember what I said, but now I remember. And I do not feel that way. I love you, I love you with all my heart. What I said was not true. I don’t know where that came from. I just remember feeling so angry. And I took it out on you.” She tried to blink away the tears but it was no use.

“When we first dated, I swore to myself that I’d never be like your ex. That I’d never make you feel unwanted or unloved. And, fuck I broke it. I treated you horribly when you’ve been nothing but supportive and caring. I’ll understand..I’ll understand if you don’t, if you don’t want to be with me anymore.”

You lightly pulled on her hand. Her eyes looking away from your joined hand to look into your eyes. You hissed as you scooted to the side of the bed. Making room.

“Come on. Lay with me.”

“Wh-What?”

“I’m not breaking up you Tara. I mean, don’t get wrong I was hurt. But I love you too and we’ll be able to work on this. Now come on lay with me. I’m tired and I know you are to.”

She hesitated, not wanting to hurt you. But from another pull of her hand she was quick to lay with you. Careful not hurt you. She laid her head on your shoulder. Relaxing in your embrace. Feeling so grateful to still have you with her.

She’d work hard to make it up to you.

:)

[guess-my-next-obsession]

When We Were Young

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

rating: M (breakups, seeing your ex, a lil angsty with a happy ending, a douchey/aggressive male interaction, alcohol consumption, language)

wc: 2.5k

frankie masterlist

Time froze. As cliche as it sounded, it was also accurate. You sat there gawking like a deer caught in headlights, your blood rushing from your head to pour into the crater-sized hole in your heart in the shape of him. It was like seeing the ghost of a loved one, desperate for it to make contact and fearful of it all at once. To see him, the man you’d loved and lost five years ago, here in the flesh, laughing with a group of people you didn’t recognize, reminded you that whatever life you had shared with him in the past was just that—the past. But even still, you couldn’t help but hope there was a moment for the two of you here in the present, and perhaps if the fates were kind enough, in the future.

“Everything okay?” Your eyes wandered back to the man in front of you—your date, you had to remind yourself.

“Yeah,” you managed, nodding your head as if it helped make your lie believable. “Just saw someone I used to know.”

“Oh, why don’t you go say hi?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer.

If only it were that simple.

“I’d rather stay here,” you replied, lying again. Is that what you were forced to become? Nothing but a liar? A half-lover? Someone frozen in the past?

Across the bar he spots you, smiling at some dark haired man that looks too old for you, or perhaps that’s just his jealousy talking.

You look good, healthier than he last saw you. You’d gained some weight, filling out your sunken cheeks that remained seared in his memory from the night he left you. The night that haunted him, a dark cloud of regret and shame that rained the taste of your tears over him to remind him of the hurt he caused you.

You only ever asked him to love you, but like the immature child he was—the child he still feared lived deep within—he made you feel like you were asking for too much.

As he sat there watching you giggle, your fingers stirring the black straw in your glass—a gin and tonic like always, no doubt—he wondered if you spotted him as well. He figured it didn’t matter even if you did. He couldn’t imagine a universe in which you could forgive him for what he did—or for what he couldn’t do.

“Frankie!” A whine coming from the girl he’d been seeing casually the last few weeks pulled his eyes from watching you, his head turning in the direction of the woman who didn’t know him well enough to know what darkness lied within him. “I want another drink.”

“Okay,” he replied, awaiting an explanation for how this concerned him.

“Can you go get me one?” she snapped, drunken and slurred. Frankie exhaled softly and nodded, the bottle of beer in his hand empty and needing replacing anyways.

He stood to walk to the bar, his eyes finding you no matter how hard he tried to keep them occupied. As he passed your table, he overheard the man you were with talking about his job—finance, it seemed. Was that really the kind of man you were into these days? Back in the day the two of you would’ve made fun of a guy like him. What could you possibly have in common with such a…stiff? He supposed it didn’t matter—shouldn’t matter.

How could you listen to anything this man was saying when you could feel Frankie’s eyes on you, when you could smell him walking by? He still wore that same cologne, still donned that same red flannel you gifted him for Christmas. So much had stayed the same about him on the outside, it seemed. Could the same be said for the inside? Did you want it to?

“Hey, I’m gonna go use the restroom,” your date announced and you nodded, watching him as he walked off through the crowded pub.

You weren’t sure what compelled you to stand, but before you could talk yourself out of it, you were already standing beside your ex at the bar, his head turned in the opposite direction as he waited for the bartender to make his way to him.

“You look the same,” you spoke over the chatter and music filling the room, causing his head to whip over in your direction. He looked wide eyed, the color draining from his face. For a minute, you worried you’d offended him by simply speaking, but the soft curl of his lips quickly soothed that fear.

“You look…good,” he managed, his eyes frantic as they studied your face, seemingly taking in all the changes you cursed your body for making. “I, uh, I saw you, but…I don’t know. Didn’t want to interrupt your date.”

“Not much of a date,” you shrugged. “Not anymore at least.”

Frankie smiled more genuinely and it was as if you were thrown back in time, seeing that dimple come out for the first time. You longed to reach out for him, to touch him to make sure he was actually there, but refrained.

“You here with anyone?” you asked, unsure of what overcame you. You had no right to pry that way, but couldn’t help yourself. Had he moved on? Was it better that way? The sinking feeling in your gut as his eyes flickered over to the singular woman sitting at his table told you no, it wasn’t.

“It’s…casual,” he shrugged, pursing his lips. “Haven’t really been able to jump into anything after…after us.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, batting away the childish tears born of jealousy. You felt the immature little girl you used to be clawing at the back of your throat begging to scream “he’s mine, he’s mine, don’t touch what’s mine!”. You lifted your drink to wash down the burn.

“Yeah, it’s been hard for me too,” you admitted, though the word “hard” felt like nothing more than a watered-down truth.

“God, sorry about that. The line was so long.” Your date appeared with a smile, his eyes flickering to the man beside you at the bar. “Hey.”

Frankie nodded at him but remained silent.

“Well,” your date exhaled as he turned back to you. “You wanna get out of here? Maybe go back to my place?”

Your eyes flickered to Frankie, watching his profile as he tried not to appear like he was eavesdropping on the conversation, but the clench of his jaw gave him away.

“I think I’m just gonna go home for the night,” you finally answered, turning to your date to give him an apologetic frown. He chuckled and looked towards Frankie, pointing his finger at him.

“You mean you’re going to go home with this fucker?”

Frankie’s body turned fully to your date, his brows laced as he looked down at the man at least five inches shorter than him.

“What was that?” Frankie asked, the dominance in his voice foreign and familiar at the same time.

“How’s it fair that I have to pair for all her fucking drinks and you’re the one who gets to take her home?” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “I got her drunk, so I get the reward.”

Frankie scoffed in disbelief and looked to you, the look of fear in your eyes igniting a protective streak in him that only seemed to light for you.

“Go home, man,” he ordered, turning back to your “date”.

“Fuck that—“ He made to grab at your arm but Frankie shoved him back before he could make contact.

“Go home.” Frankie ordered again, giving the man one last chance before he’d have to walk home with only one working eye. The man sized Frankie up for a beat before turning to you.

“You’re paying for your own fucking drinks then,” he said, as though it was a punishment. Truthfully, you were thankful not to “owe” this man—the word used loosely—anything. You watched him walk off down the bar to pay off his half of the tab, keeping your eyes glued to him to assure he didn’t come back and try something again. It seemed Frankie was doing the same.

“What a fucking prick,” he mumbled under his breath as the two of you watched him leave the bar. You turned back to Frankie and felt your lips part to speak, to apologize for your choice in man, but couldn’t manage a sound. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” he offered sincerely, his gentle brown eyes landing on yours. “You didn’t deserve any of his bullshit.”

“Yeah, well…when they tell you there’s tons of fish in the sea they don’t mention that those fish fucking suck.” Frankie laughed and nodded, that dimple coming out again. The bartender finally made his way over, looking at Frankie anticipatorily, but Frankie seemed hesitant. “Well, I’m gonna go pay my bill—“

“No, let me,” he intervened with his hand on your arm. “I’m honestly ready to leave, too.”

“You gonna order anything?” the bartender asked, annoyed by the delay. Frankie leaned over the bar and ordered a vodka-cranberry and then pointed over at the table his group was sitting at, the bartender nodding before walking off to prepare the drink.

“Alright, let’s go take care of the tab.” He turned back to you with a friendly but soft smile, his hand resting on your upper back as he guided you through the crowded room to the bartender set up by the till. Frankie paid for both of your bills as if it was nothing, as if anyone would have done the same thing. You couldn’t help but glance over at the girl he was with, comparing yourself to her. She was thinner, not by much but enough for you to realize it. Her hair was freshly styled, her nails polished and manicured. She seemed to be a newer and improved version of yourself, the image of someone untainted by heartbreak. Soon a pit of guilt formed in your stomach as you considered the fact that your interacting with Frankie tonight would be the first blow to her heart. Did she love him? Would that be enough to stop you?

“So…do you live at the same place you used to?” Frankie asked at the counter while he waited for change.

“I do,” you turned back to him and admitted.

“I could walk you home,” he offered with a shrug. “No funny business. I just…I guess I want a chance to talk.”

“What about your date?” you asked, a nervous chuckle slipping from your lips to cover your guilt.

“She’s with her friends, and truthfully…I think our friendship has run its course.” Perhaps in another reality you’d be strong enough to turn him down, but in this reality your heart still belonged to him. It would always belong to him.

With a nod, you accepted his offer and headed outside to wait for him as he grabbed his coat and bid his group goodbye.

You watched from the window as your replacement scolded him, her voice loud enough to cut over the music and through the glass separating the two of you. Frankie never did well with loudness, with screaming and fighting. You wondered what drew him to her in the first place.

When he finally made it outside, he let out a sigh and shook his head.

“Well,” he said, giving you a laugh. “That went well.”

“Yeah, I could see,” you pointed at the window. “I feel bad.”

“Don’t,” he commanded, shaking his head. “I’d leave anyone to have a chance at talking to you again.”

You tried not to melt at his words, tried not to put stock into them, but was it possible that five years could have changed him? Could have made him realize that you truly loved him, and that it was all you ever wanted to do?

“So,” he began as the two of you made your way through the downtown neighborhood towards your apartment complex about a mile away. “I guess I want to say sorry first and foremost.”

You turned your head to watch him, his eyes fixed forward while his hands twitched in his pocket.

“I…I was scared,” he confessed, his voice softer, more vulnerable as he glanced at you. “You loved me in a way that I’ve never been loved before, and that was scary. I never thought—I don’t know. Never thought I deserved it, so I turned myself into someone who didn’t. But, I really need you to know that I loved you, too. I just didn’t know what to do with it. Didn’t trust myself with it, I guess.”

“I did,” you replied, bumping your shoulder against his. “I trusted you with it. But I could see the fight going on inside, and I could see that I was losing. I didn’t know why I was losing. It seemed so simple to me—I love you and you love me so why can’t we just be together? Be more than these two friends who fuck?”

“Yeah—“ He swallowed, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I was…young and stupid. I wish that was a better excuse.”

At your doorstep, you turned to him with a twisted smile, unsure of what to do next. You’d talked through the wounds you left on each other as best as you could with a few drinks in your system, but what came next?

“So…” you started, swaying a bit as you looked up at him. Frankie’s smile turned boyish as he looked down at you, a chuckle escaping his lips as he tucked his hands into his pockets.

“Would, uh…” He bit his lip as he paused to reconsider his proposition. “Would you maybe want to grab breakfast tomorrow? There’s this new diner on 32nd street—“

“Oh my god, Brownies?”

“Yeah!” He laughed, your eyes locking as the two of you wondered how many times you must’ve missed each other in this small town. “I go there every Sunday with Caro.”

Oh, how you missed his baby girl. She was only three when you’d last seen her, making her eight years old now. How time flies.

“I go every Saturday,” you admitted with a chuckle. “Would I be throwing off your schedule by making you go two days in a row?”

“No,” he assured. “Any excuse for chocolate chip waffles, I’ll take.”

You laughed and nodded, looking down at your feet.

“Well, in that case, yes. I’d love to.”

“One more thing, and feel free to say no—“

“Can you kiss me?” you interrupted, watching as his smile grew into a grin.

“You beat me to it,” he laughed.

“Is that a yes?” you asked with a girlish and flirty smile. Frankie’s hand found your jaw, cradling it gently as he leaned in slowly, the anticipation burning in your belly. When his lips met yours, you swore you’d died and gone to heaven. It was as if nothing had ever changed between the two of you, that spark that only he could light inside of you quickly turning into a flame as you melted against him, clutching at his flannel. When he pulled away, you almost whined. Frankie smiled and rested his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For all this lost time.”

“We can make it up,” you assured with a smile of your own. “Starting tomorrow.”

“See you then, baby.”

•

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[cyborg-franky]

Franky! It is I, and I am trying very very hard to have *variety*. For feel good prompts, may I please have either Beckman or Kin for 12 or 20? If they’re still available ~

Thank you, love you~ 😘

I have not written Benn in a hot second so I really hope you enjoy this <3 I love you tooooo. -hands you tiny Benn-

Benn x GN Reader SFW WC: 467

“You’re easy to love.”

You watched as Shanks knocked back another tankard of ale and slapped Benn on the back, laughing loudly and shaking the other. Going on about something you couldn't make out, too drenched in slurring and giggle fits your captain was prone to when having a good time and already three sheets to the wind.

The shadow of a smirk on Benn's lips as the flames of the campfire danced across his handsome face and made you feel weak at the knees. You sat back though, nursing your own drink as you watched on.

Sometimes you needed space, sometimes you got in your own head, sometimes you worried you were too much for him. You liked to hold his hand, give him kisses, and be there with him but you also knew Benn was a stoic man and appreciated his time alone, and let’s face it, Shanks took up a lot of his time. 

So you worried you were too much, too clingy for Benn. Your relationship was still relatively new and you were worried there were boundaries you were going to break by accident. You sighed and kicked the sand at your feet, trying to focus on anything but your own mind taking shots at you.

“Hey,” You looked up when you saw Benn, he sat next to you on the rock, leaning into you and you wanted nothing more than to lean into his heat, and bask in his attention but you tried not to, tried to remain sitting up straight as you stared ahead at the fire “Hey,” You replied, trying to be the picture of nonchalance.

“What’s the matter?” He asked, a hand on your leg, causing you to turn and face him. “And don’t say nothing, I know what your like, in your head again, tell me.” Benn was firm but fair and you let out another sigh. “I’m not too much for you am I?” His brow quirked, just enough to tell you he wasn’t sure what you meant.

“I mean, I’m not a burden right? I feel needy and clingy and I know that you aren’t those things and I’m worried you’ll get sick of me.” You let everything out and there was no sign of stopping until you felt a finger under your chin, making you look up at him, meeting his gaze.

“Don’t be silly, if I can put up with Shanks I can put up with anyone,” He let out a gruff chuckle and you leaned into his touch, how he gently caressed the side of your face, you rested your cheek against the palm of his hand. “Promise?”

“Yes,and you know why?”  You shrugged your shoulders “Because you’re easy to love.” He said kissing your forehead, kissing away those doubts and worries. 

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2022: October 5th

Day 5: A/B/O // 69 // Formal Wear

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit 

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, jealousy, societal hierarchy, insecurity, mentions of marking/scenting, fingering, vaginal sex, slightly possessive/dominating, unprotected sex, cream pie. 

*** When reblogging or talking about Omegaverse, please remember that ‘a/b/o’ without the slash punctuation marks (/) is considered a slur for the Aboriginal people in Australia.

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Most days, you are perfectly fine being a beta. It’s not like you can do anything about it anyway. You are not an omega, as much as your mother pouts in disappointment. You are just who you are and for some reason, there was still an alpha who had taken an interest. 

Right now, it pisses you off. Watching through narrowed eyes and rage while the fucking omega draps herself over all over Frankie, your Frankie and covers him in the stink of her essence. It was a myth that Betas couldn’t smell the pheromones that drove the alpha and omega together like some cosmic invisible string. You could, you just weren’t affected by it on a primal level. 

Why? Why had she chosen Frankie? There were four other alphas sitting at that table and she chose your boyfriend to flirt with. It makes you want to grab her hand as it drifts across the breadth of his shoulders and twist it, moving those trespassing little fingers away from your man’s scent glands. You aren’t dumb, you know that is where she’s headed. 

Sitting behind the bar as you make the drinks, you fume. Most nights, it was amazing that Francisco Morales and his buddies - who you all know and they respect you (even if you’re just a beta) - hang out at your bar. He’s never specifically said you were the reason why, but the alpha surprisingly never shied away from admitting you were his. 

Right now though, you hate it. You hate that there is fear and jealousy curling in your gut. Fear that she might be a better fit for him. That there could be some connection between them that you would be powerless to stop. Jealousy that you can’t be as confident as she manages to be, even when you feel like Frankie is just trying to be polite. 

Her laughter trills out across the bar room floor, grating to your ears, but it causes several other alphas to turn her way. The stink of attraction is heavy and you can’t even tell what your alpha is giving off because it’s so thick. Jealousy clouds your mind, steals your vision and you don’t see the way that your alpha’s friends try to redirect the omega's attention to them. You don’t see the subtle ways that your alpha is trying to reject her without causing a scene or embarrassing her. You know that omegas being denied by an alpha is tantamount to a slap in the face and she would most likely cry, but you don’t see that. 

Slipping out from behind the bar, you rush to the back. Your heart pounds in your chest so hard that the rushing of blood fills your ears. Your shirt smells like him. Normally you love it, bask in the warm comfort that your alpha scents your clothing. He loves smelling himself on you, although he prefers it when you’re both naked and exhausted, sweat and pheromones clinging to your skin while his tongue laps at the area where a scent gland would be - if you weren’t a beta. 

There’s a change of clothes in your bag. One that is fresh from the dryer and there is not a hint of Frankie on it. At this moment, it’s what you need. Peeling the shirt over your head, you drop the one that smells like Frankie onto the floor. Rejecting it as though he has already pushed you away. Removing the scent of him from your body and replacing it with another that smells like your detergent. Nothing but the slight whiff of him remains, enough that it would just be brushed aside as the alpha touching you. 

You don’t care for the raging turmoil inside you as you stuff the shirt into your bag and slap it back into your locker. The fact that jealousy curdles in your stomach and makes you want to go slap that omega and claim Frankie as your own. You could never do that - it isn’t your place. Biological and social hierarchy dictated that Frankie was unmated with an omega and therefore he was up for the claiming. Tears prick at your eyes and you grind your palms into them, heedless of the mascara that thankfully is waterproof as you try to compose yourself. 

When you come back from the employees only section. You don’t see Frankie’s immediate frown. His eyes have been watching for you, always on alert for you. You don’t see the way that his own narrows as he watches you go about pouring more drinks and filling the tickets that are printing off behind the counter. His slight puffed out sigh unheard by you, you’re too far away, but everyone at the table hears it. Including the omega that is still trying to sidle up to him. 

Instead, you don’t even look that way, trying not to concentrate on the obvious overtures of the omega. Not wanting to see them work on him. Frankie is a kind alpha, unwilling to command - even you - unless it was life or death and little flirting never killed anyone. Unless it was an alpha flirting with a bonded omega. 

When the order for their table comes up, you can tell from the fruity cocktail Benny ordered just for shits and giggles, you decide that you are going to take it over yourself. You don’t miss that there is a sixth drink mixed in with the normal beers and a sex on the beach. It was a cosmo and it made you roll your eyes at how fucking predictable it was. 

Plastering on a smile that you know doesn’t reach your eyes, your drinks firmly held up on the tray, you make your way over to the table. “Hey boys, have your drinks here.” Your voice is the model of professional cheer and you ignore the way that the omega looks at you and takes a sniff before dismissing you. Obviously uninterested in a mere beta. 

“Yes!” Benny is always one to shoot you a grin and nod, eagerly taking the drink from you. “Thanks beautiful.” His little nickname for you was just to rub Frankie the wrong way, everyone knew it and it was the only reason he hadn’t had the shit beat out of him so far. At least until now. Maybe later, Frankie wouldn’t care that his friend had called a beta beautiful. Not when he would have an omega that adored the ground he walked on and only had eyes for him. 

The sniff the omega gives was uncalled for, but you ignore it. Unattached omegas seem to be miffed when any unbonded alpha gives attention to anyone that isn’t them. You don’t understand it, but you couldn’t. 

It might be childish, but you make a point to not say anything to Frankie. You don’t slam his beer down, but you don’t hand it to him with a smile and a kiss like you often do. Depositing the beer to the rest of the boys and one obnoxious cosmo to the omega, you turn around and retreat to your area. You don’t catch the way that Frankie leans in to sniff you, that frown from before reappearing when he doesn’t smell himself all over you. 

It’s back behind the bar for you. Mixing drinks and interacting with servers. You make sure you keep your attention off the table to your right. Almost studiously ignoring that side of the room. The only reason you ever actually served drinks was people who were sitting in front of you at the bar, or them and right now you can’t handle that. 

Because of this, you don’t notice Frankie come up, don’t know he’s there until his hand is wrapped around your wrist and dragging you away. Making you screech slightly in shock but a few regulars know the score so they don’t stop the alpha from dragging their bartender away. You ignore the few catcalls and whistles from some of the crowd and you don’t see the way that omega has slunk away from the table full of Frankie’s friends. 

“Fran-”

“Not here.” You can hear the tension in his voice, the barely restraining command. You know he’s never used that alpha tone with you and yet your entire body shivers when you hear the threads of it in his words. He wants to and that makes you fall silent and let him pull you into the bathroom down the dimly lit hall before he locks it behind you. 

Before you can say another word, you are crowded against the sink, dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that seems to be reserved for moments where he is about to lose control. Normally it’s to make you scream his name but you don’t know what he is thinking right now. 

“Why did you change your shirt?” He grumbles, fingers plucking at your shirt and your heart skips a beat when they graze your skin. “I liked the other shirt on you.”

“Needed to change.” You don’t get into why you needed to change, just that you needed to. You don’t like lying to him, so you don’t say you spilled something on yourself. “It’s fine.”

“No it’s not.” Frankie insists, leaning in more and nuzzling your chin with his nose. “The other shirt smelled like me.” 

Your hum of agreement is noncommittal but you don’t say anything, but it grabs his attention. Making him pull back with just the tiniest smirk on his face, the one dimple pressing in slightly underneath his scruff. 

“Only one thing to do.” He murmurs, arching a brow before he grabs your waist and spins you around so that you are facing the sink and he is pressing against you. “I need to mark you in my scent.” 

You whimper, knowing what he means by that, those dark eyes swirling with lust and mischief. You don’t protest and his grin flashes at you while he starts to pull at your clothes. 

Your shirt stays on, of course it would since he wants to make sure you are covered in his scent and obviously the smell of sex. Instead he flicks the button of your jeans open and slides his hands inside. 

Your eyes slide shut when he finds your clit but his other hand grips your chin. “Watch.” He growls, making your eyes pop open and you see him watching you in the mirror. “That’s my girl.” His approval sinks straight into your gut and makes your cunt clench. 

“You were jealous.” He hums in your ear, that raspy tone low and making you shiver. “I saw it. Saw you try to ignore that omega pushing in on your turf.” 

Biting your lip, you don’t answer. You don’t want to tell him that you have no claim. Not like that omega would. Frankie’s jaw clenches and he pulls his hand away from your clit to start stripping your jeans and panties down. 

“Fuck Frankie.” You moan quietly. “Here?” 

“Here.” He huffs, biting the left cheek of your ass as he stands, kicking your feet apart and you hear his belt buckle as he starts to undo his own pants. 

Suddenly, the blunt head of his cock is pressed against your entrance. His arm coming around you while he breaks you open, filling you swiftly and burying himself to the hilt in the heat of your body. 

You don’t bother hiding your moan, you can’t. Not when he’s stretching you out so perfectly and his dark eyes are demanding that he hear you. His own ragged groan breathed into your ear and he doesn’t even give you a second before he starts to move. 

Pheromones fill the bathroom, surround you, seep into your skin while Frankie pounds into you. Every stroke of his cock fills you and branding you on the inside as his. Punching up into your cunt and making you whimper and whine while he holds tight to you. 

“You’re mine.” He grunts into your ear, cock twitching deep in your walls when he voices the comment that has never been spoken out loud between you. “Mine, just- just like I’m yours. Your alpha.” 

“Frrrrankie.” Your eyes roll back when he says that. Everything you’ve wanted to hear but hadn’t dared to ask for. You had assumed your place, even as brash and ballsy as you were, you didn’t dare to object to societal norms. 

“I am yours.” He moans, teeth biting down on your ear and he whines while he grinds deep to change the pace. His hands hold you, squeeze your breasts over your shirt and he makes sure he is scrubbing the scent glands at his wrists all over the fabric. He starts to spear up into you again, fast and hard. “I don’t want that omega. She’s- she can’t make me feel what you do.” 

Your head drops back onto his shoulder, eyes closed. “Open your eyes, baby.” He hums, growling when you don’t respond. “Open your eyes.” He never calls you ‘beta’. Never using your designation against you. You had thought it might be because he was embarrassed that you were merely a beta…but now…looking into his eyes has you realizing that he never used it because he respects you.

You watch. Watching as he takes you. Every harsh jolt of his hips pushing your orgasm closer. “Gonna knot you.” He grunts. “Later, when you’re ready.” Knotted by him, an alpha. Bearing his children. 

You don’t know why, but it makes you cum. Clenching down around his thick length, you scream out his name and not caring if the entire bar hears you. Gasping for air when your voice dies off and your body shaking while Frankie thrusts into you harder. His hips slapping against your ass and he’s beautifully feral as he chases his own release. 

Hissing your name when he falls apart. The thick heat of his seed flooding your core and filling you. The pungent scent of his pleasure covering you, marking you a scant second before his teeth press to your skin, right where a scent gland would be if you were an omega. 

Whining, you shudder and cling to him, knowing that if you had a scent gland it would now bear his mark. Proclaiming to all omegas and alphas that you were his. 

His eyes are hazy when he finds yours in the mirror again. Filled with satisfaction and pride. His voice is rusty with lust but clear when he speaks. “Omega or not - I’m yours.” 

[xxang3l-trapxx]

Be Trans, Throw Hands!

Decided to throw together this fic, haven’t written any in three months.

*Disclaimer I’m not a trans girl so I hope that my portrayals of trans women are accurate (for Wendy and Ashley). Also I think that “housekeeping” ‘s treatment of trans girls is muy aborrecible!

Also trigger warning for dysphoria, needles, transphobia, Catholic trauma, slurs and implied suicide. If those will upset you, don’t read, your mental health is more important than fanfic!

5. Wendy knows she isn’t like the other boys, because she never was one.

From a young age, she kicked and cried whenever her parents gave her Spider-Man underwear or tried to put her in a suit when Thanksgiving or Christmas come, insisting that she didn’t like it and that she felt wrong. She could never put a name on that feeling, only that she had it.

“¿Que pasa?” Her mom asks when they’re in a Macy’s dressing room, having to calm her down after Wendy ran out of the boys section crying.

Wendy shrugs. “Simplemente no quiero.”

And with that, mom rolls her eyes subtly and buys the least decorated pair of underwear.

Wendy looks at the pack when in the privacy of her room, studies the comfort level of them and quickly deduces that boxers suck. Briefs are nice, but they could be better.

Wendy spends the rest of the evening on the computer looking for drawers that would fit her right.

‘No’ becomes her favorite word she mutters while browsing, trying to look at the images and not what looks back in the reflection.

Eventually she ends up on the Victoria’s Secret website, just to see if there’s anything good, not for anything else. Not like how the boys (especially Frankie, an 8th grader she knows) go on there to jeer and act gross during computer time.

The Angels are beautiful, all tall and giving “you know you want me” smiles at whoever looks at them. They model all types of underwear Wendy’s never heard of, and she gazes at one of them for a little too long, a brunette named Sarah with a blonde streak at the front like she has. She looks so confident. Why can’t Wendy look like that? Does she want Sarah?

Or does she wanna be Sarah?

The answer comes to her a few days later, when she and Julie are watching The Shining. Wendy likes it, it’s so pretty, and the set design is something she could drone on about. But what she likes most of all is the characters; Jack Torrance who slowly goes insane due to the supernatural forces of the Overlook Hotel, poor Danny Torrance who deals with ghosts and Tony who lives in his mouth (the little goth girl who lives up the hill says Tony might be a metaphor for some mental illness, but when she tried to explain some boys called her a real mean name so she punched him) and poor Wendy Torrance, who has to deal with both on top of Jack’s verbal abuse.

As Jack Torrance freezes to death in the snow, Wendy can’t help but feel. Not for Jack, nonono, but for Wendy—Onscreen. She’s trapped in a prison of Jack’s making, and she doubts herself as the cold winter months drag on. Kind of how Real Wendy feels, except she’s trapped in her mind, a horror movie she can never escape from.

Real Wendy repeats the name—it means ‘friend’ apparently, over and over, rolls it around on her tongue til it sticks in her mouth and clicks in her mind.

I’m Wendy.

She rushes to her parents room, before stopping. She’s heard about people who think they’re Jacks instead of Wendys, or Wendys instead of Jacks, and it’s not good. It rarely turns out good, as evidenced by the forums she’s read for the past week. She thinks back to the boy from next door, who confided in her a few weeks ago about how he hated his long hair and heavy boobs and wide hips and how he was gonna tell his parents how he felt.

They exploded on him and sent him away, and Wendy hasn’t seen him since.

“Are you okay honey?” Her dad asks, and she realizes she’s been standing in the doorway for the last five minutes. Ah.

Okay, she thinks. I’m gonna tell mom and dad how I feel, and hopefully they under-

Her mouth opens before her mind can finish. “I’m Wendy now. I think. I just never—” she swallows. “Felt right being my old name, ever. Please don’t kick me out, please.”

Wendy’s father stands up, walks toward her, and wraps his arms around her.

“I’m glad you told me, sweetie. We’d never kick you out,” dad says. “Right Maria?”

“Never,” says mom, when’d she get here?

She tells Julie a few weeks later, and her response is typical: a shrug, and then she skips off.

Better than nothing.

4. In the next house over, things weren’t so lucky.

The Wises are a very traditional family.

Clara Wise is a homemaker, all Lucy pin-curls and Ponds Cold Cream and “Did you hear that so-and-so’s daughter got pregnant? How trashy!” Robert Wise is a smoking pipe with legs, all golf and “This generation is heading down a dark path. Don’t become one of those whores, Jason. Do you hear?”

Jason’s parents are a little bit older than the other parents, well into their twenties when the others were in middle or high school, so maybe that’s why they feel this way.

It doesn’t hurt any less when they speak about certain things. They hate almost everything, Jason keeps a list in his diary: Abercrombie & Fitch, Violent video games, immigrants (the ones from Yugoslavia are okay, everyone else can suck it in his parent’s eyes), Pokémon, MTV, R&B, the list goes on.

They especially hate gay people and anything to do with them. “It’s a sin,” his mom says. “I don’t want that shit around my family,” his dad barks.

Jason thinks this is bullshit. God made everyone the way they were, and if She made a man to like another man, or a woman to like another woman, then so be it. The same goes for men who want to be women and women who want to be men and recently he’s heard about other genders and that piques his interest.

It distracts him from the way jeans fit way too tight around his legs, the way his shirts strain against her chest, no matter what color he wears. “Black is slimming!” Whoever said that is a liar. A filthy liar and Jason wants them to choke.

One day when his mother lets him out, he overhears a conversation in the convenience store. Part of Jason thinks gossip is a sin, but then he remembers that if that were true, all the tabloids would burst into flames.

“I heard that weirdo chick, you know the one that hangs with the…whatever from on top the hill and shit, is a boy,” says one girl from church. There’s a gasp.

“No way. How could she be a boy? I thought she was a dyke,” another church girl says.

“Well apparently she’s a transvestite and a dyke. Pick a struggle. You either wanna prey on girls or you wanna act tough. She’s all talk,” the first girl says.

Jason runs into the first aid isle before he can hear anymore. How mean can someone be, not only to speculate on other peoples lives but to then make fun of them after words?

He closes his eyes, praying those girls see the light, and opens them to see rows of compression bandages in front of him. Immediately he thinks of Mulan, and how she bound her breasts and cut her hair to look like a boy. Mom and dad turned up their noses at this, before Jason reminded them that it was so she could help her country. They’d been pleased that it was for the military, and watched the rest of the movie with smiles on their faces.

Where was he again? Oh, right.

Jason looks at a box of bandages, sees that they’re only three dollars, and checks the amount he has—just enough, and smiles. And enough left over to buy a new hair clip.

He buys the bandages and clip, disposing of the evidence in a trash can and stuffing them in his skirt pocket.

After biking home, Jason kicks off his shoes, bolts upstairs and into the bathroom, ripping off his dress and sweater and looking at himself in the mirror. He grabs the bandages, holding one end to one side of his chest. It shouldn’t be too hard to do this. Dad taught him how to wrap one of these when he hurt his wrist two summers ago, when he was 10. How hard is it to wrap breasts?

Very. It takes Jason over 10 minutes to properly strap them down, and he can hardly breathe for a minute, but after a few seconds he’s right as rain. He puts pack on his clothes, sliding into his room and checking himself out in the mirror.

There's nothing. He’s completely flat.

Jason walks around like this for a few days, and mom and dad don’t even notice. They never notice. How the hell is he invisible in a house with three people?

He addresses his grievances with Wendy over ice cream in the backyard, the latter watching over Julie as the young girl plays with her dolls in the grass.

“I feel the same way too. I told my parents, and they accept me,” Wendy says, licking her ice cream. “Not too sure how yours would react. Have they said anything about transgender people?”

Jason shrugs. “I don’t know. They only focus on gay people.”

“Well if the way they talk about gay people is bad, that gives you an indication as to how they feel about transgender people. As above, so below, you feel me?” Wendy explains.

He sighs. “But I…I…”

“You wish they’d be more accepting?”

“Yeah.”

Wendy relaxes further in her chair. “I know.”

They sit in silence until the sun sets and Jason has to go home, forlornly waving at Wendy.

He enters the home to find his parents in the family room, faces grim. And a notebook sitting on the coffee table. His diary.

Fuck him gently with a chainsaw.

The next 3 hours are a blur of both of them yelling, him screaming and his heart working over time. Jason doesn’t remember anything but one line from his mother, the woman who’s supposed to always love him, soror mea, the whole she-bang:

“You’re not my son, but you sure as hell aren’t my daughter either!”

It felt as if his heart had ripped from his chest, torn up into pieces and lit on fire. Then ran over with an 18 wheeler for kicks.

And suddenly he finds himself being dragged out of the house, a small bag being tossed at him.

“You’re staying with your uncle in the town over. He’ll straighten you out, see how much you like that little lifestyle of yours in 3 months,” his father spits at him.

And as uncle Claude’s beat up truck drives further and further out of McKinley, Jason can only pray God loves him enough to help him.

3. Before settling on her current name, Ashley briefly thought of the name Clover. They’re a symbol of fortune, and of good luck. Something not everyone else has when it comes to being trans.

Despite her carefully crafted valley girl image, Ashley is acutely aware of the realities girls like her face. One of her online friends came out to her parents, and suddenly she went dark. That was in January, and it’s June now. She knows what that means.

Her parents can afford everything for Ashley, and she knows this. Puberty blockers, new clothes and voice training are all readily available. And oh, the shame she feels when her mother takes her to PINK. The guilt she feels when she steps into the clinic to do voice training and the sinfulness she feels when her parents shower her in compliments.

Sometimes, with month long breaks in between, Ashley will cry herself to sleep over the girls like her who can’t afford estrogen, or pretty underwear, or voice training. She sees them in the forums and AngelFire websites, spilling out their hearts to hundreds of faceless people about how they’ll never feel girlish enough, how they cry when they run out of estrogen and the pharmacist doesn’t refill it.

Ashley wants to reach through the screen and wrap her arms tight around her sisters, whispering reassurances and complimenting them. She can’t exactly mail estrogen or wigs to the girls; but she can only hope her words are enough.

Instead, she helps the girl in her class with her hair and makeup, refers her to the clinic where she does voice training and tells her doctor to not charge the family too much, and becomes her personal cheerleader throughout their friendship.

She (the girl) blossoms. From a bud to a flower, Ashley is glad that she can help at least one girl in her life time.

It doesn’t even bother her when she looks in the mirror and breaks down sometimes, collapsing to the ground and clawing at her face, not wanting to look at her face. Oh, her face.

She’s fine, though. It’s just her being over dramatic, like always.

Her parents come into her room, asking if she’s okay, and every time, blinking away the tears, Ashley gives the same answer.

“I’m fine, really!” Same response every time. She never says her real feelings, never to anyone, never wanting to be ungrateful.

So every time she feels the way she does, Ashley writes in her diary, tears out the page, sets it ablaze and lets the bits that remain fly into the night.

2. For as much as Ian is strong mentally, he’s a big chicken when it comes certain things. Roaches, blood, and most importantly needles.

He supposes it all comes from the time a doctor fucked up putting a needle on his arm when he was eight, causing massive bruising on his arm and leaving him with a lifetime of fear. And he’d be content with never touching a hypodermic needle ever again.

If it weren’t for the fact that they’re required to inject T and the local pharmacy doesn’t carry gel.

Ian holds the needle above his leg, attempting to hype himself up to just inject the damn thing.

“C’mon, you’ve got this. You didn’t go through tuberculosis, fall out of a window and almost drown just to be scared of a damn needle,” he says to himself, hand shaking. He sets the syringe on the sink across from him, taking a few breaths and staring at the ceiling above him.

Eventually after ten minutes, Ian swallows his pride and calls out for his mother.

“Mama, can you help?” He asks, hoping he’s loud enough for her to hear.

She comes in soon enough, sitting on the edge of the tub with Ian and asking him what’s wrong. He tells her.

“Oh, is this because of when you were eight?” She asks him. He nods.

“I’m grown, I don’t know why I’m freaking out about this shit!” Ian exclaims, pulling his legs to his chest. His mother laughs.

“Well you’re 14, so I don’t know how you jumped to being so grown up all of a sudden. But it’s okay to be scared of a needle,” she says, reaching across the bathroom to grab the needle. “I’m scared of them, and I’m 43!”

“But you work with them,” is Ian’s response.

His mother laughs. “Well the people I stick them with aren’t necessarily alive,” she says. “And I finished the shot. You’re good to go.”

He stands up, hugs her, and looks away while she disposes of the needle, willing himself to not faint.

1. Erin knows she’s a bit strange. She walks on the tips of her toes like she’s floating on air, hums a different song to whatever plays on the radio, and sees and hears things the others swear they can’t. And she knows she holds some ideas that mainstream society doesn’t like, like how a woman should serve herself before her husband (if she’s got one), that marriage and children aren’t the only way for women to be fulfilled, and that men and women aren’t the only concepts, both when it comes to gender and sex.

The last part gets Erin in the most arguments, even when she pulls out undeniable proof that third genders exist, people roll their eyes and dismiss her.

She vents and argues to forums online, trying to see if anyone shares her sentiment. They normally don’t, and one day, in the middle of April, someone asks her a question on AIM.

Why do you care about any of this? He asks, and Erin wonders. She wonders all the way from the library where she talked with the guy to the bus stop to home. Mamí and papa notice her wondering.

“¿Que pasa?” Mamí asks as she puts away the dishes after dinner and dad gets her sisters ready for bed.

Erin looks up from the floor from her place at the kitchen table. “Huh? Nada mamí. It’s..nothing,” she says, watching from the back kitchen door as a car passes through the neighborhood.

Mamí shrugs. “Well if it’s nothing, you mind helping me load up the dishwasher?” Erin agrees.

She’s still hung up on the question a week later, so she calls up the one person she knows probably has some expertise on the subject.

“So you talked with the guy on AIM about other genders, he asked why you care so much, and then you went home,” Lara from Philly says, swinging higher in the park, feet touching the trees. Erin nods, sitting still on her swing.

“So if there was no flame war or any threats of doxxing being thrown your way…why are you still hung up on it a week later?” They ask, leaning backwards.

Erin thinks for a bit. Why does she care? She gains no money from defending the concept of third genders, it’s not like anyone she knows is one, so what could be the other option?

“I…don’t know. I guess it’s cause seeing people bash on others…makes me real pissed,” she says.

Lara comes back down, blowing some blonde hair out their face. “I think it might have something to do with you,” they say, poking a finger into Erin’s chest. They dig around in their overly decorated messenger bag, pulling out a book and handing it to her. Erin studies the cover, two blurry men edited in pink and blue.

“Me?” She asks Lara.

“It’s obvious that this is more personal than you realize,” they reply, getting off the swing.

Erin blinks. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Lara starts to walk. “Just read the damn book! And keep it when you’re done!” They call over their shoulder as they head to the bus station.

She takes the advice to heart, reading it the minute she gets home. There’s talk of trans women and men and one other term Erin hasn’t heard before.

Non-binary. People who aren’t men or women but neither. Her mind immediately goes to rockstars of the seventies, then to seventies movies, and then to Dr. Frank-N-Furter. When she first watched Rocky Horror as a kid; around the corner when she was supposed to be asleep, she was always confused whenever they came on screen. They had a deep voice like her father, yet they dressed in heels and stockings like her mamí during Christmas and Three Kings Day.

Now Erin’s realizing that Sherman and O’Brien might’ve been onto something in 1975, if unknowingly. And now she’s realizing stuff about herself too.

So she does what she always does when it comes to her emotions, she writes a poem.

Erin trudges out into the backyard with a paper and pen in hand, sitting on the ground and watching as her skirt spreads around her. She copies the chirps of the birds as she writes.

Not Girl, Not Boy, A Secret Third Thing

By Erin Ulmer

My gender identity is whatever I want it to be

My gender is whatever

It changes with the weather

I want to be a lady, tall and fair

Extra large boobs and long flowing hair

But also a man, big and strong

A sense of machismo

No one to tell me I’m wrong

At times I feel pretty, and at times I feel tall

And sometimes I feel like I’m nothing at all

She folds the piece of paper once, then another time, then sticks it in the book Lara gave them, and puts that book on a shelf, just hoping their parents don’t notice.

@brains4ne @cinemagh0ul @whatsaudreythinkingabout @kymyit @xxbatmanb3y0ndxx @w3ndyslvrr @seikointelli

[thetisming]

okay so i thought of this and it's rotting my brain, so:

Frankie as a letsplayer:

 CONSTANTLY brings up May

mostly plays horror

very openly queer & neurodivergent

May joins him sometimes

has a pretty big fanbase, especially queer and neurodivergent people

 again, brings up May SO MUCH. kind of like how Sean talks about Evelyn except he goes really into detail about their personality and how much he loves them

Sammy always jumps onto the table

 ^he has caused so many deaths

 sometimes May will just enter the room and kiss Frankie and he gets so giggly and doesn’t continue playing for like five minutes

 has been called slurs on stream. by Juliet and Romeo

he gets SO scared so easily, fans love him for it

has a lot of fanart for some reason. but that’s fair since he's a pretty popular streamer

 his streamer name is Franpuchino 

he loves kissing May on stream or while he’s filming. just to be like “hey guys my partner May is the best and we’re dating and they’re so wonderful”. this is good because May also loves flaunting that they’re his partner (not in a ‘i’m dating a famous guy’ way, in the way that they just love him so much)

when he plays with Juliet, Romeo and May, they all make fun of him. if it’s live everyone joins in. he is so sad

people think the funniest thing they can ever do is tell Frankie to make the wrong choices on live. and sometimes they tell him to make the right choices but he doesnt trust them. and then he dies

when he started, he went by Francois, but then Juliet called him Frankie and it stuck

the fans always ask how May’s doing and he VERY happily responds/brings them in to talk

whenever May comes in, they’re wearing the fucking gayest clothes ever seen. and of course Frankie is gay about this.

^Frankie wears the most average outfits ever, like jeans and a hoodie. the hoodie has May’s embroidery on it though so it is actually pretty gay. he just kind of stares at them though. of course, he does wear nice clothes, but not for streaming

his favourite games are The Prototype, Little Misfortune, Amanda the Adventurer, The Classrooms, Untitled Goose Game, Ouija Sleepover, 98xx & Teke Teke

his introduction is “hey guys, i’m Franpucchino!” because he couldnt be bothered with a creative one

all his fans call him Frankie (except for the ones who use Francois) and calling him Franpucchino is the equivalent of a tv show mum calling their kid by their full name

he tries his best to respond to all the silly comments

^someone once asked him if he can be their dad and he said ‘i can try but i dont know if that’s legal?’

there are times where chat is just filled with ‘Franpucchino.’ and it’s always after he did something stupid

May created the art for the picture thing after Frankie decided he actually did want to do this

he always tries to get to the game as fast as possible when it’s a video, but doesn’t care much when it’s a livestream

May isn’t actually in the videos THAT much, but he does bring them up a lot. and of course there are some that they do together (Frankie finds it really hard to focus when they’re there because he just loves them a lot)

Frankie’s fans absolutely adore May though. one time he got a comment that said ‘i love May’ and he just said ‘that makes two of us…’

some fans dont actually care much about May, but since theyre also a streamer they have a similar fanbase

someone recommended ddlc and he got so freaked out that he swore he would never take suggestions again. he liked the game though

for how much i’m talking about May, that’s not even why most of his fans like him. they just wanted a queer streamer and they found one, and as it turns out he’s really fucking gay for his partner

he freaks the fuck out at the slightest scares

Frankie reverts to french in videos sometimes and his editor (Romeo) has to add subtitles for what he’s saying

^mostly when he’s REALLY scared

he kind of sucks at a lot of games. this just makes it more fun for everyone watching

[fanficimagery]

You’re Still You (3/4)

You wake up in the Upside Down and you’re not exactly human anymore.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

Words: 6.3K Author’s Note: Trigger warning for a gay slur. It’s just mentioned once, but it’s in there.

"E-Eddie?" Your voice cracks and his expression softens. You don't know you're crying until he steps forward, hands cradling your face as his thumbs swipe the tears away.

"Hey. Hey, it's okay. We're here now."

As he rests his forehead against yours, cradling your face close to his, you reach behind you to lay the clipboard down and then wrap your arms around his waist. "What are you doing here?"

He chuckles. "Some grade A asshole made a call to Hawkins to surprisingly check in on Red and then mentioned a moody she-bat that had been hanging around."

"Billy," you grumble in realization.

"You should have called, sweetheart."

"You guys have bigger problems to worry about."

Before Eddie can retort, there's an annoyed sigh from behind him. "What am I, chopped liver?"

You pull back from Eddie and look around him, grinning when you see Steve Harrington standing there in his infamous mom stance- hands on his hips. You wetly laugh as you step away from Eddie, stepping over to hug your other friend. "Hey, Steve."

"YN." He squeezes you for a few seconds before letting you go to look you up and down. "You look good."

"Hey."

Steve rolls his eyes as he glances at Eddie. "You know I don't mean it like that."

You giggle as you move back to Eddie's side, leaning against him and just basking in the moment. You're annoyed Billy called them behind your back, but you're also kind of grateful. Seeing them soothes the ache in your chest.

"YN!" You startle at your name being shouted and lean around Eddie to stare at your coworker Frankie who's standing behind the cash register. She's grinning as she stares at you. "Why don't you go ahead and take the rest of the night off? I can hold down the fort here."

"What? No, Frankie, I'm good. My friends can keep themselves busy for a few more hours while I finish my shift. Right, guys?"

"Shit. Yeah. Sorry, sweetheart," Eddie tells you before looking over at your coworker. "We actually need to go check into a motel or something. Sorry for distracting YN."

"Don't even worry about it." Frankie smirks before she winks at you. "You've been kind of just floating on by this past month and these two boys brought out the first real smile that I've seen in a while. You go on home. You can make up the hours another night."

You blush as you see both Eddie and Steve look at you. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Okay. Thanks, Frankie."

"Don't even mention it."

You tell the boys to hang on while you return the clipboard to your coworker, and she promises to clock you out at your scheduled time so your boss doesn't make a fuss. Then gathering your bag from behind the counter, you turn around to see the boys picking up duffel bags that had been set at their feet upon their entrance to the store.

"You boys ready?"

"Yeah. Lead the way," Steve says, already opening the door.

"I hope you boys don't mind a bit of a walk," you muse. "I don't have a car since, you know, wings." You chuckle as you see both boys glance at your back and then shake their heads as if clearing their minds. As you start in one direction, Eddie and Steve fall into step on either side of you. "So, how's Hawkins?"

"Still hunting the freak," Eddie mumbles just as Steve says, "Turning into the Upside Down."

Your steps falter as you quickly glance at Steve. "What?"

"Oh yeah. It's a mess," he says. "The vines are growing all over the center of town, those particles make it look like it's perpetually snowing, and now some people are saying it's all Eddie's fault because of his ritualistic murders."

"Jesus Christ," you mumble.

"The only good thing is that Hopper let my uncle Wayne know what was really going on," Eddie says. "He doesn't think I'm dead anymore and Hopper has another ally to bring us food to the cabin we're hiding out in."

"Well, that's one good thing." You sigh, leading the boys in another direction. "What about the others?"

"Uh, Red got transferred to a hospital outside of Hawkins," Eddie says.

"Susan is still refusing to pull the plug," Steve then supplies, "and the Byers have officially moved back. We're all just trying to survive nowadays."

"What about Vecna? He show his ugly mug yet?"

"Nah, but everyone's on edge because Will and Eleven are on edge. They can sense something, but-"

"But it's yet to make itself known," Steve finishes. You sigh and kick a pebble across the asphalt. "What about you? How's the Murder Capitol of the World?"

You scoff, shaking your head. "What did Billy tell you?"

"Nothing. Just called to check on Max after he heard about what was going on. There was only one way he could know, so when we asked about you, he laughed and mentioned you were feeling homesick."

"He didn't mention anything about what was going on here?" You ask.

"No. Why?" Steve frowns. Then at your amused grin, he groans. "What's going on here? Don't tell me there's monsters here too?"

"Well technically I'm a-"

"No. You're not," Eddie says.

You laugh as you link your arm with Eddie's, leaning into him as you smile. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Munson." He chuckles and then you straighten back up, leaving your arm linked with his. "But Santa Carla... it's a haven for the undead."

"W-What?" Steve stammers.

"Apparently Billy fell in with a group of vampires. He's one of them now and they kind of took me in after I filled them in on my situation."

"Now when you say vampires..." Eddie says.

"They're nothing like me," you tell them. "For starters, I can be out and about in the sun. The sun forces them to sleep, but they can wake themselves if need be. If they step into the sun, however, they will catch fire."

"Jesus," Steve swears.

"They can fly, but they have no wings. Holy water hurts them and they, uh, they're quite vicious when they feed."

"Meaning?" Steve wonders.

"Meaning they kill their meals and rip them apart limb by limb."

You can hear him gulp. "What about you?"

"Me?" When you sense his nervousness, his meaning sinks in. "Oh, I can't kill my meals. I learned that if I completely drain someone, they turn into what I am."

"No way!" Eddie says. "Seriously?"

"Yep. My first victim, I killed him." You slowly release Eddie's arm, hiking the straps of your bag higher up onto your shoulder and then crossing your arms as you admit the second worst night of your life. "Hours later I felt this presence at the back of my mind and for a moment I thought it was Vecna, but when I studied that presence, I realized it wasn't. I didn't know what I was doing at the time, but according to David I had summoned this guy I turned. He was pissed to be something he didn't understand, so he attacked me. I killed him and then I learned some self-restraint when it came to feeding so that it didn't happen again."

"Uh, who's David?" Eddie wonders.

"The leader of the vampires around here. I'm sure you'll meet them later."

The rest of the walk is done in relative silence and then you're stopping before a white gate before opening it up and leading the boys in. When they see the beach house you're leading them up to, their jaws drop.

"This... is yours?" Steve asks.

"Yep. It belonged to David's Sire, but he met an unfortunate demise so David gave it to me since they can't exactly use it."

"Damn. And here I am living in a deteriorating cabin in a town that's slowly being swallowed whole," Eddie utters.

Huffing a quiet laugh, you nudge him before entering the house. "You boys can stay here instead of renting a shitty motel room. There's plenty of space." Kicking your shoes off close to the door, you hang your bag on a hook. "The kitchen is stocked, so help yourselves whenever. Just stay out of the bottom drawers because that's where I keep blood bags for emergencies or for when I don't feel like hunting."

"It's just you here?" Steve asks.

"Yep. The boys will hang here if they don't feel like causing trouble on the boardwalk, but I'm the only one who sleeps here."

"Where do they sleep?" He then wonders.

"I won't tell you where it's at, but they have a cave they sleep in. Apparently, they sleep hanging upside down."

Steve and Eddie both freeze before snorting. Then when you don't laugh, Eddie says, "You're not joking."

"Nope. And not to alarm you or anything, but they're really interested in meeting you."

"What?!" He yelps. "Why?" And Steve laughs at his subtle panic.

"Because Paul, Marko and Billy have all tried to get into my pants, but I've refused. Then Dwayne and David realized my affections laid elsewhere," you shyly admit, blushing when Steve groans, "and when I mentioned you, it just made them all the more curious about the boy who would keep me from caving to their advances."

"On one hand, I'm seriously flattered here, sweetheart." You roll your eyes at his cheesy smile. "But on the other hand, what the hell!? Are they gonna try to eat me or something? Do I have anything to worry about?"

"No." Your grin falters. "Well, I don't think so?" You pose it as a question and Eddie's eyes widen.

Steve laughs, walking over to Eddie and clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Good luck."

"Anyway, do you boys want to rest and then go to the boardwalk or just go straight to the boardwalk now?"

"Uh, can we rest for a bit?" Steve asks. "Then the exploring can start. We're only here for three more days."

"Sure. Whatever you boys want."

You help the boys get settled into their rooms, grinning when Eddie peers into your room. The offer to have him share with you is on the tip of your tongue, but you chicken out at the last second and keep your mouth shut.

Eddie and Steve both shower off the plane grime, refreshing their outfits for the night to come.

Then after a thirty-minute power nap, you're hyping up the boys right before the sun fully sets.

"Tell me again why you don't have a car?" Steve asks on the way back to the boardwalk.

"Because I don't go anywhere," you say, perched on Eddie's back as he gives you a piggyback ride. "I literally only go to work and home. And when I hunt, I do so at night and fly. Having a car is pointless."

Eddie keeps quiet, content to have you on his back and hands gripping the backs of your thighs. But when you get to the boardwalk stairs, you slide off his back and hook your arm through his and Steve's. You lead them up the stairs, ignoring the catcalls and crude comments being thrown at you and your friends.

"How does that not bother you?" Eddie frowns, tense as another comment is directed at you.

"Because they're all little bitches." You laugh, eying the many food booths. "They're only being so bold because I'm alone and they don't see you as a threat. But when I'm around Billy or David or Dwayne, they're not that talkative."

"We probably should have asked earlier, but what should we expect of these other... vampires?" Steve asks, lowering his voice on the last word.

"Billy, Paul and Marko will definitely try to get a rise out of you," you tell them. "Dwayne's just a strong silent type who will watch at first and David's... David is intimidating. He'll probably try to mess with you, but I'll put a stop to it if I realize that's what he's doing."

"Well alright then. What first?" Eddie then asks.

"Rides then food."

After quickly purchasing tickets for all three of you, Eddie drags you and Steve to the rollercoaster. There's only four people allowed to a cart and Steve is willing to let you and Eddie ride together, but you make the boys sit side by side when you see a young girl staring longingly at the ride and looking a little dejected. You realize she wants to ride and when you ask who you assume is her mother if it's alright that she rides with you, you and the young girl sit side by side screaming your heads off.

Steve chooses the Cyclone and then immediately regrets it. Standing up with only a belt across your waist as you spin 'round and 'round at maximum speed wasn't his smartest idea. Then when the three of you stumble off, laughing at each other's unsteadiness, you lead them over to the Double Shot- a one hundred- and twenty-five-foot-tall tower.

"I hate you," Steve deadpans when the ride technician is buckling you in.

Laughing, you tug on your safety harness to make sure it's tight enough. "Suck it up, Harrington. It's a beautiful view."

Steve is a little uncomfortable to be so high up, but you and Eddie love it. While you're waiting at the very top, Eddie decides to randomly headbang. He's mid headbang when the ride suddenly drops, and his yelp makes you and Steve explode with laughter once you're at the very bottom.

Eddie then chooses the Fireball and Steve is just done with the two of you. Spinning slowly is one thing, but spinning while being swung back and forth until you're upside down is not what he considers a good time. And then when it's Steve's turn to choose again, he goes the calming route and picks the carousel.

You immediately pick a horse, as does Eddie, but he sits backwards on his. The two of you are side by side while Steve chooses safely and sits on the bench just behind Eddie.

As the music starts back up and the carousel starts to spin, you move so you're sitting side-saddle and facing your friends. "Are you boys having fun?"

"'Course, sweetheart." Eddie winks at you and you grin.

"What about you, Stevie?"

"I like it. You do this every night?"

"Every night." You nod. Feeling the carousel shake as if someone or several someone's has jumped aboard, you sit a little straighter on your horse. "Prepare yourselves. We've got incoming."

You hear the jeers and laughter before you see them, David sauntering between the horses as he makes his way towards you. He smirks at the girls he passes, and you roll your eyes when their boyfriends puff out their chests. Dwayne is right behind him, glaring at those who look like they want to challenge David, and then Paul and Marko pull up the rear.

You're about to question where Billy is when he pops up behind Steve's bench, startling the poor boy. "Seriously, YN? This is the freak that gets your motor running?" He asks while gesturing to Eddie.

Paul and Marko laugh, you tense, but before you can say anything, Eddie makes an impression all on his own. He raises his hands up next to his head, index fingers pointed upward as if they were horns while simultaneously sticking his tongue out with a garbled hiss.

The vampires have no idea what to make of him, but then suddenly Paul groans. "Aw man and here I was prepared to hate the kid."

Marko laughs while David and Dwayne flash small grins. Billy merely huffs, hopping over the back of the bench and sitting next to Steve who grimaces and tries to put as much space between him and Billy as he can.

"Guys, meet my friends from Hawkins- Steve and Eddie," you introduce while gesturing to each respective boy. "And boys, meet the lost boys- David, Dwayne, Paul, Marko and Billy."

The ride is slowing to a stop and Eddie readily hops off his horse, standing next to you as you slide off yours. As he goes to take your hand since it's so crowded, someone bumps into his back. When he stumbles into you, you glance over his shoulder and find one of the surf-nazis sneering at him.

"Watch it, faggot."

Eddie immediately turns around, spreading his arms out to keep you safe against the horse. "What the hell, man. You ran into me."

As the second the surf-nazi goes toe to toe with Eddie, more surf-nazis appear out of thin air. But Eddie isn't on his own and you're relieved to see the lost boys come to his aide. From one second to the next it turns into a giant shoving match, hands pushing at faces, and you have to bite back a snarl when you see one of their girlfriends put her hands on Eddie.

"Alright. That's enough," you say, trying to push your way between Eddie and the too bold female. When the shoving gets rougher and you catch the glint of a knife out of the corner of your eye, you grab the female by her hair at the back of her head, pull her in front of you and wrap your free hand around the front of her throat. "I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH!" You shout.

The surf-nazis freeze when they hear the female let out a noise of pain, your nails digging into the side of her throat and causing blood droplets to swell. Dwayne, Paul and Marko sway back when the scent of blood hits them, staring at you slack jawed.

Hearing the security guard shout for all of you to knock it off makes you shove the girl away from you and then bring your hand up to your mouth, licking your nails one by one.

"What a fuckin' freak," another surf-nazi seethes before gesturing the others to back off.

You smirk at their retreat and then sheepishly smile at Eddie and Steve staring at you in awe and surprise. "What?" You feign innocence. "She's lucky all I used were my claws. I doubt she'd enjoy my bite."

"Oh my god," Paul groans quietly. Then glancing at Eddie, he pouts. "Lucky bastard."

"Not that this wasn't exciting and all, but can we get out of here? We still have a couple more days here and I rather not get kicked off the boardwalk just yet."

"Always a buzzkill, Harrington," Billy drawls. "Always a buzzkill."

"Oh, screw you, Hargrove."

"Not in your lifetime, amigo."

"Hey!" The ride instructor shouts. "Ride's over. Get off before I get security back here."

Laughing, you grab Eddie's hand and tug him off the carousel. The others follow as you lead Eddie towards an empty table, tugging him down beside you as the others find a seat around you. Your heart warms as Eddie huddles close to your side, holding your one hand between both of his, his fingers playing with yours.

"So, was it just me or do Billy and the new guy have some serious chemistry going on?" Paul asks.

"Fuck off." Billy shoves his friend at the same time Steve scoffs, sitting on your other side.

"To be fair, the two of you did always have this heated animosity," you muse. "Did something happen? When we were still in school back in Hawkins?" You laugh.

Steve elbows you. "You're insane."

"The best people always are." You elbow him back and then look at David. "So, what's the plan for tonight?"

"We could always head back to the cave."

"No." You blurt, shaking your head. "Hell no."

The platinum blonde smirks. "Why not?"

"Yeah. Why not, sweetheart?" Eddie asks. "A cave sounds cool."

"Because I want to send you boys home in one piece, and I have a feeling Billy will take this opportunity to shove Steve down the stairs or push him off Hudsons Bluff."

Marko chuckles, hiding his amusement behind his fist while chewing on his thumb nail as Billy scoffs. "As if I'd willingly invoke your wrath. We may sleep like bats, but I'm not tryin' to be chased by them. Not again."

The rest of the boys chuckle, all except for Steve and Eddie who look at you with furrowed brows. "I, uh, I may be a she-bat from the Upside Down, but here? In our dimension? I'm..." You trail off, unsure of how to word what you want to say.

"She's the superior species." Dwayne's deep voice startles your boys from Hawkins and you bite the corner of your bottom lip to hide your smile. "She whistles or screeches and the bats come in droves."

"It's a real pain in the ass when she gets them to swarm you," David says.

You smirk at them. "At least you boys know not to piss me off now."

"Whatever." Billy suddenly stands. "I'm getting food. Who's coming with?"

Marko readily stands, as does Steve. "I'll go." He surprisingly volunteers.

You try to hand Steve money, but he refuses it and walks after Billy. Sighing, you pocket it.

Left alone with Paul, David, and Dwayne, you sit there next to Eddie and wait for the interrogation to start. And it doesn't take long.

"So, what do you sell?" Paul asks. "Did you bring any good weed with you?"

"Jesus Christ, Paul," you mumble before sighing and leaning against Eddie's side.

But like the good champ he is, Eddie just laughs it off. "Nah, man. All my stash got swallowed by the gate that opened up and took out half the trailer park."

"Damn."

"And plus, I'm kind of in hiding at the moment, so yeah. I can't sell anyway."

"Hiding?" David arches an eyebrow at him. "Hiding from who?"

"The entire town," Eddie answers slowly before cast a wary glance at you.

"Oh yeah. Oh shit!" You suddenly start to laugh. "I didn't tell you guys part of that story."

"Seriously?" Eddie chuckles. "It was kind of a big part of the story, sweetheart."

You shrug. "I just named the dead. I didn't say exactly where they died and how exactly it involved you."

Eddie shakes his head before looking back at the three vampires. "All this stuff about different dimensions is all new to me," he says. "Apparently it's been going on for a few years now, but I never knew. Not until a few months ago when this cheerleader was looking to buy."

"Chrissy Cunningham was the town sweetheart and queen bee of Hawkins High," you tell them.

"So, I stumbled upon her in the woods, right?" Eddie then picks back up. "And she's spooked. I knew something was off, so I sat with her, and we chatted for a bit. She wanted some K, but I only kept weed on me at school, so we had to head back to my place later that night."

Paul wiggles his eyebrows. "Nice."

"Shut up, idiot." You aim a kick at him under the table and know you connect when he winces in pain.

"So, I leave Chrissy in the living room while I search through my stash in my room and then when I come back out to her, she's... she's like in a trance or some shit. Her eyes are milky white, eyelids fluttering, and standing stock still. I did everything to wake her, but nothing worked. And then she starts levitating before her body is literally slammed against the ceiling and then her bones-"

"That's enough," you tell Eddie, reclaiming his hand with your own. You smile sadly at him when you hear his heart pounding and are thankful the three vampires across from you don't say shit about it. "I told them about how the victims were found. You don't have to relive that part."

Eddie takes a moment, sliding his fingers between your own and squeezing. "I, uh, I ran." He then admits. "My uncle found Chrissy's body the next morning and called the cops. I was missing, so the blame was automatically put on me."

"Then Chrissy's jock boyfriend rallied the townsfolk into believing Eddie was a cult leader and had inducted a bunch of school children."

"Hunt the freak," he mumbles. "I'm a wanted man back in Hawkins. Or at least I was," he then shrugs. "After what they're deeming as earthquakes rocked the entire town, they're assuming I died. I've been in hiding ever since."

"Yet you left the safety of your hideout to come when Billy called," David says.

Eddie slowly smiles. "Wouldn't you if the person he was calling about was YN?"

Paul starts to chortle, and you roll your eyes, playfully shoving at Eddie's arm. "Shut up, goof."

Billy, Steve, and Marko appear with food then, dropping containers of Chinese, trays of burgers, and drinks onto the table. One would think that it'd be a mad grab for food, but it's surprisingly calm as everyone takes a turn choosing what they want.

You and Eddie end up with burgers while Steve ends up with a carton of Chinese noodles.

Everything is fine and no one really talks as they shove food into their mouths. But then Steve freezes at your side, gags, and you stare at him in alarm as he starts spitting out the food in his mouth. Then when three vampires across from you start to laugh and Steve picks up his carton of noodles to stare at it in confusion, you know someone played a mind trick on him.

Straightening up, you subtly inhale before you feel your vocal cords tremble and create a sound that not even your vampire friends can hear. Then from one second to the next, you watch as Billy, Marko, and Paul are each attacked by three bats.

"Ow!" Paul gets nipped by his bat.

"What the fuck!" Billy shouts when another slams into the side of his head.

"Come on! It wasn't even me!" Marko says while trying to untangle a bat from his head of curls.

Eddie watches on in amusement while Steve pokes his chopsticks into his carton of noodles. "Worms. I was eating worms." He gags again.

"You weren't," you tell him. "These idiots can make you see things that aren't there, so one of them made you see worms instead of noodles."

Steve looks up and then rolls his eyes. "Seems like something Hargrove would do."

From scowling to smirking, Billy laughs. "Had to. At least once."

"And this is why we're not going to the cave," you tell them.

"Boo," Paul jeers.

"We'll go back to the beach house once they get their fill of the boardwalk."

"Ooh. Kinky."

You're about to retort when you notice Paul's attention is quickly stolen by something else and when you glance in the direction that he's looking, you find a small group of girls smiling and giggling and twirling a piece of their hair around their fingers. Rolling your eyes, you lean forward and call out, "Careful, girlies. My brother's got a raging case of gonorrhea. I'd hate to see you leave here with that little souvenir."

Immediately the girls plaster on disgusted expressions and scurry away, and the table of your friends explode into laughter when Paul gapes at you.

"That was cruel, sweetheart," Eddie chuckles.

"Whatever. He'll get over it."

You all go back to eating the rest of your food, grinning when you see Steve switch to a burger. Then once full, your Hawkins boys are suddenly exhausted and admit to wanting to go back to the house. You agree, leaving the lost boys to their own devices once you tell them you're calling it a night.

The lost boys tease you for not being able to hang, but Steve and Eddie promise to stay up longer tomorrow night. Billy and Paul make crude comments as you hop on Eddie's back for the walk back to the beach house, but you merely laugh and flip them off.

Once back at the beach house, Steve is already yawning.

"I'm gonna shower and head to bed, guys."

"Alright, Stevie. Sorry about the mind prank the boys pulled on you."

"It's fine." He grins. "After I got my appetite back, it was actually kind of cool."

As Steve disappears towards his appointed room, Eddie turns towards you with the most heartwarming smile. "And then there were two."

"And then there were two," you repeat, grinning. "Still sleepy?"

"Not at all."

"Wanna watch a movie in my room?"

"Sure, but first..."

Eddie's gaze drops to your lips, and you watch him hesitantly pause before throwing caution to the wind and striding right into your personal space. You smile as his hands cradle your face, forcing you to look up before his mouth descends upon yours. The kiss is soft and hesitant, but the moment your hands land on his waist and squeeze... Eddie groans and deepens the kiss.

Letting Eddie take control of the kiss was a no brainer and it's your turn to groan when you feel the sting of his teeth on your bottom lip.

Eddie is the one who breaks the kiss, panting softly for air. He keeps himself connected to you by pressing his forehead against yours, hands still cradling your face while his thumbs brush along your cheekbones. "I've been wanting to do that since I got here."

"Only since you've gotten here?" You ask, pecking his lips once more.

"Fine. For months now. Ever since we were in the Upside Down and that quake knocked us off our feet." You start to smile, realizing the moment he's talking about. "You somehow ended up straddling me and cracked a joke about a flashlight being in my pocket."

"Steve and Robin were so grossed out that you could be so turned on at a time like that." You chuckle.

"I couldn't help it that watching you demolish demobats with an oar really got me going."

"You're such a guy." Your eyes roll, but you kiss him once more before pulling away. "Now go shower and meet me in my room. I think it's safe to assume that you won't be using the guest room while you stay here."

"You assume correctly, m'lady."

As you and Eddie head in different directions, your heart pounds in excitement and aches at the same time. While you are excited that Eddie made a move, you're also sad because he'll be leaving in a few days. And while you would willingly follow Eddie anywhere and everywhere, you're in no position to return to Hawkins so long as Vecna lives.

There is no hiding the shift in your relationship with Eddie, but thankfully all Steve does is sigh out finally! Frankie, too, picks up on your change in mood and who it is that was responsible for it, so she has no qualms about the boys hanging around the store while you work.

The boys explore during the day, buying small souvenirs here and there, and then come back to tell you all about two eccentric teens that were hellbent on giving them a freebie comic all about vampires. You had snorted at that, telling them all about Alan and Edgar Frog and their hunting ways. Steve and Eddie had seemed a bit worried, but you assured them that all their so-called tests never had any effect on you, so the boys thought you were human.

Just a human with terrible tastes since you hung out with known vampires.

At least known to them.

Then when night falls and the rest of the boys pick up on the tension between you and Eddie, and the fact that Steve is willing to hang out with them to give you and Eddie some time alone, Paul, Marko, and Billy are all about teasing you to the point you snarl at them.

Dwayne and David just smirk knowingly at you, especially at the way Eddie apparently looked at you with a lovesick expression, but never outright tease you.

It doesn't take you more than two hours to wrangle a promise out of David that your boys were off limits (Billy literally pouted when David put his foot down on not harming either one), and then you and Eddie are off for a bit of one-on-one time.

You didn't think Eddie was one for public displays of affection, but he surprised you. He had no problem holding your hand, but when you were in line for a ride or looking at booths that sold some band t-shirts he was interested in, his arms were wrapped around your waist as he stood behind you. With his chin resting on your shoulder, he'd press a kiss to your cheek or neck and chuckle darkly when he'd feel you shiver.

You got on rides together, kissed in the shadows between buildings, and giggled like teens when someone caught the two of you getting carried away. You ate and then were joined by the rest of the boys when you were sitting on the railing and Eddie stood between your thighs while the two of you watched everyone pass you by.

"Have a good time?" You ask Steve when you see him grinning at something Marko had spoken to him.

He lazily grins. "Yeah. They're pretty fun dudes."

"Good."

Around two in the morning is when Billy suggests looking for a bite to eat. Marko's excitement clues in the two humans that Billy isn't talking about regular food, and you call it a night so they don't have to see the aftermath of their hunt. And when asked if you're going to feed, you assure them you have it all under control.

The next two days are spent pretty much the same, though you do find it in you to tone down the displays of affection so Steve doesn't feel uncomfortable hanging out with you and Eddie.

Eddie fits in with the lost boys as you expected he would whereas poor Steve sticks out like a sore thumb. But none of them, other than Billy, make him feel like an outsider. Everyone gets along so well that it makes you happy, but one word about their departure the following day brings your mood down exponentially.

In the early morning hours, Steve packs his bags so he doesn't have to scramble to find everything when he wakes up. Eddie, however, drags his feet and eventually shoves his bag off your bed before taking a seat on the edge of your mattress.

He looks defeated and it breaks your heart. "Hey. What's wrong?" You ask.

Walking up to him, you take Eddie's face in the palm of your hands so he's forced to look up. You brush his hair out of his face and his eyes close. "I don't wanna go back to Hawkins." A lump of emotion forms in your throat, stalling the words you desperately want to say. I don't want you to go either. "I wanna stay here. With you."

Your eyes fall closed at his admission. "I wish you could."

"Yeah?"

"Of course." Your eyes open again when you feel Eddie nuzzling into the palm of your hand. "But we don't always get what we want."

He kisses your palm and then tugs you down onto his lap, arms wrapping around your waist as his face presses into your shoulder. "What if we can?"

"Hmm?"

"What if we can get what we want?"

"Then I'm pretty sure the world would be a chaotic place," you muse.

Eddie chuckles, but continues on. "If I wanted to stay, would you let me?"

"Babe," you huff, "this isn't a decision to be made on a whim."

"It isn't," he agrees. Picking his head up, Eddie looks you directly in the eyes. "That's why I've been thinking about it since I've gotten here." You open your mouth to retort, but he shakes his head. "Think about it. I can't have a life in Hawkins, but here? With you? I can do whatever the hell I want, sweetheart."

"And what is everyone else going to think when Hawkins' greatest hero doesn't return back home?"

"They'll just be happy knowing that you and Eddie are together." Steve's voice startles the both of you and you look up to see him leaning against the door jamb to your room. He's smiling softly when he reaches into his back pocket, pulling free a folded envelope and holding it up. "Wayne wrote this for you," he tells Eddie. "We all kind of hoped this would happen so you'd finally get the hell out of the town that still wants to see you dead."

You gape as Eddie huffs a laugh. "Is that why Dustin was all teary-eyed?"

"Yep." Steve chuckles. "He didn't want to lose his other bff."

Glancing at your still awed expression, Eddie wiggles his eyebrows. "What do you think, sweetheart? You think you can handle me all day, every day?"

After your mind finally catches up, you look at Eddie and slowly grin. "I think I can manage."

"Great!" Steve claps his hands. "Now the two of you are riding the bus with me back to the airport because I am not riding alone," he says. "Santa Carla really is a place for the weirdos."

Later on, when you're roaming the boardwalk next to David as the others pull Eddie to all their favorite spots, the platinum blonde leans closer to you.

"You know you're going to have to turn him, right?"

"It'll be his decision, David."

"Could you let him go if he chooses otherwise?"

"Yeah." You gulp, not liking the thought of having to watch Eddie grow old. "It would suck, but I would accept it if that's what he wanted."

David watches you, but nods nonetheless. "Lucky for you that boy is head over heels. I don't think he knows how to live without you."

"Yeah? Then I guess we'll see."

To be continued...

[the-purity-pen]

One Temptation

Pairing: Benny Miller x Will Miller x Santiago Garcia x Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

gif is not my own. credit to the creator [ if you know who made this, please tell me so i can credit them, thanks! ]

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY!) Warnings: Sex Pollen, Group sex, Double Penetration, Unprotected PIV (please be safe irl), cum eating, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), Anal, Shower sex, let me know if i missed anything! Word Count: 5,818 Notes: This has been in the works for MONTHS at this point and I finally feel okay releasing it to the hellsite. It’s filthy, it’s probably not perfectly canon but I love these boys and this was such an adventure to write. Please let me know what you think!

You were nervous as hell to walk into the conference room. The first day on any job is nerve wracking but even after a few weeks, you found yourself feeling like the outsider still. It wasn’t anyone’s direct fault, per say. Just a feeling you had from being the new one on the team.

The team you had been assigned to was a tight knit one. The four of them having been through all kinds of combat and missions together. Their previous team leader had gone off the rails and was forced to retire early. 

Your debriefing hadn't gone into a lot of details but the remaining men on the team seemed friendly enough. Benny and Will Miller, the brothers were such polar opposites that their interactions were always entertaining. And Frankie Morales seemed like a pretty sensible one, a lovable man with a mean streak when needed. 

And then there was Santiago Garcia. The man was generally more observant but when he spoke, he attracted the attention of an entire room. His personality was electric in a way. The way his scruff would sound as his hand ran over his jaw, deep in thought at whatever mission was being described as one that the team would be taking.

A new drug lord was suspected in Miami, carting drugs from Colombia and Bolivia. The trail had led to many dead ends but there was one loose end that your new team would be able to solve. A nightclub had been staked out and found to be smuggling drugs through some warehouse-like door in the basement. There wasn’t enough to get full intel and they needed a team to infiltrate and go undercover to gain more information.

Part of the plan was to have you, of course, dress up and play flirty with some of the bouncers and bodyguards of the club. You were extremely nervous and it apparently showed through because as much you knew these guys were good, you couldn’t help but feel like trusting them with an assignment like this was a big ask.

When the assigning officer heard your concerns, he offered up a serotonin-inducing serum. It was new on the market but was studied to have helped with team building. At least that’s what he told you. After having a short conversation with the team, you agree to all take the serum.

After taking the sticky sweet green drink, you were informed that it could take a full 24 hours for the full effect to take place. "Why don't we throw a party?" Benny chimed in with the boyish grin plastered on his face.

You stifled a laugh and shook your head. "I'm not exactly the party type," you admitted as your eyes scanned from Benny to Santi who spoke up next.

"What about just a night of beers and cheesy movies?" he offered to which all heads started nodding. "My place. Tomorrow night. Eight o clock," he added after the consensus was made.

***********

Walking up to Santiago's door had your heart thundering so loud in your ears, you were sure you wouldn't be able to hear him when he greeted you. Your hands twisted around the case of beers, hoping you had picked the right kind. You knew how these military types were picky about their booze.

"Hey! You made it!" Santi exclaimed as he opened the door and let you walk in. Your eyes took in the small apartment and noticed that you were the first to arrive.

"Am I early?" You turned around to face him as he closed the door. He shook his head with a chuckle as he moved closer to take the case of beer from you and move it to the fridge.

"Nah, they're just always late. Good choice by the way," he mentioned as he held up the case and nodded to it just before placing it in the fridge. Your arms weakly rubbed at each other, crossed over your chest.

When Santi turned back towards you, he chuckled. "You can take your jacket off, you know. I mean if you plan on staying," he cracked which made you smile. After your jacket slipped off and was placed on the back of a nearby chair, Santi held an open beer out to you.

"Thanks," you told him softly before there were more knocks on the door. The other three piled in, Will followed by Benny with Frankie bringing up the rear. Benny was already slurring and jolly, Will was just shaking his head at his brother as he greeted you. Frankie came up, adjusting the ball cap that he always seemed to wear and said hello.

***********

"Truth or Dare!" Benny cried out when a suggestion pool had started of what they should play.

Handfuls of beers had been consumed by this point and you were starting to feel more comfortable. It was also becoming apparent as you watched each of them how attractive they really were in this laid back setting.

The entire group groaned but Benny pushed forward on the couch so his elbows were on his knees. Santi had actually been oddly quiet, chewing on his lower lip as he was watching you interact.

"Alright Pope. You first," Benny held up a hand loosely gesturing at the man sitting across from him. Santi rolled his eyes and shook his head but grinned at the same time.

Will tapped Benny on the shoulder and whispered some idea into his brother's head that apparently made Benny very excited. "Ooh! Ooh! Okay okay," Benny adjusted his shoulders, shooting you a quick glance before looking back to Santi.

"Have you ever thought about-" 

"I didn't even choose which one asshole!" Santi replied with a loud laugh. Seeing his smile that wide was uncommon and you felt a small knot form in your chest at it but you stifled a snort in response.

Frankie and Will also broke out into laughter as Benny conceded. "Alright alright fine. Choose, motherfucker," he narrowed his eyes at Santi before cracking a grin himself.

"Truth cuz I'm too old and lazy to do any stupid stunts you could come up," Santi chided at his brother in arms before taking a long swig of his beer, one of the bottles of the kind that you had brought.

Benny rubbed his hands together like he was concocting some evil plan. "Alright then back to what I was asking before you so -rudely- interrupted. Have you," he paused to glance over at you, his gaze unashamedly running over your body, making you curl into yourself a bit more on the big armchair you were seated in. "Ever thought about fucking her?" He nodded his head in your direction when his gaze came back to Santi.

Your heart was back to racing in your chest as you turned your attention to Santi. Without missing a beat, Santi answered. "Abso-fucking-lutely."

You were ninety percent sure that you stopped breathing. Your eyes blinked only out of automation as your mouth became a small o shape. Your entire body felt like it was heating up in the few moments that passed.

Santi then looked at you and your entire body felt ablaze again. "Uh, what? What did I just say?" Santi seemed to have come-to from a small spell he was under. Your gaze was so focused on his face you didn't see the way the other three shifted in their seats or the way that Frankie palmed himself lightly to adjust his growing erection at the thought.

"Y-you…" Words were hard to come by and your face felt like fire and your heartbeat whooshed into your ears. Your chest heaved lightly at the sudden panting you seemed to be doing.

"Well fuck me!" Benny cried out as he laughed nervously. Will punched his brother in the arm and that's when your eyes shifted to the rest of the guys, noticing that their gazes were locked on you. It was as if you held some sort of magical answer to a question you didn't have any clue of.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times before you cleared your throat and took a nervous sip of your beer. There was only a drop. You huffed nervously. "Oh, look, I need another beer," you quickly and quietly said before pushing up out of the chair and practically running over to the kitchen.

You could hear their low murmurs, chattering amongst themselves as you rinsed the empty bottle in the sink. Your hands were a shaking mess as thoughts swirled in your mind. You squeezed your eyes shut for a second before bending to grab another beer from the fridge.

A presence against your backside made you gasp. Hands came to your hips as you slowly stood up, swallowing the large lump that had formed in your throat. You tried to clear it as you closed the fridge but the presence behind you kept their grip on your hips.

Your nose finally picked up the scent of the cologne. Santi. He leaned forward, pressing his chest to your back as one finger came up to trace a line down your neck. Instinctively your head rolled to the other side to open for his soft touch.

Your breathing was ragged and you immediately mewled when his lips took over for his hand against your neck. "I want you hermosa," his voice grumbled against your skin and you immediately felt weak. Your hands tried to focus on the beer bottle but you were slipping into euphoria.

"Santi," you heard Benny's voice come from across the kitchen. Both you and Santi turned to see all three of them moving closer. "We all want her," Benny admitted and you saw the way his tongue peeked out between his lips to wet then as his eyes seared into you.

"Guys." Your voice was weak and shaky. "I- I can't do this. It's-" your words were cut off by Santi's lips attaching to your neck again and the bottle you held was slammed down onto the counter as you gripped the edge to steady yourself.

One of his hands worked around to the front of your blouse and tugged at the buttons. You could feel the weight of him pressing against your ass and your entire body buzzed with lust. That familiar heat was starting to grow in the pit of your stomach and you knew the booze was partially to blame.

But only partially.

When your eyes fluttered open as Santi slowed his assault on your neck, you saw Benny standing so much closer. "Seriously," he said, his hand coming up to let a finger trace along your collarbone. "We want you," he told you in an uncharacteristically quiet voice before leaning in to capture your lips.

You moaned quietly against his lips, having not been kissed in far too long. You finally pushed against him and he pulled away from the kiss. "Seriously," you sloppily repeated back his words as you scooted to the side out of Santi's grasp.

A piece of paper was on the island counter that caught your attention. The red lettering at the bottom looked familiar. Your curiosity piqued and you moved closer to pick up the paper to read it.

Known side effects include but are not limited to: sudden panting, decreased morality judgement, increased appetite, increased sexual desire and libido…

You blinked as Santi rounded the corner of the counter to you. "Fuck," you muttered quietly to yourself as you noticed his movements and came around the other side to only be greeted by Frankie, who's tanned skin on his cheeks was flushing slightly.

"Did anyone read this?!" You asked, panicked and looked at all of them one by one.

"What is it?" Benny asked, not fully caring what it was.

You moved closer to Frankie to hold it up. His eyes tried hard to focus on the words as he took the paper from you. "It's the fucking side effects to the serum, man," Frankie spoke aloud as he too paused at the one about sexual desire. "Shit," he muttered as a hand came down to his crotch to adjust himself.

"Well what are they?" Benny asked impatiently as he eyed you walking across the floor to the living room. Santi moved over to Frankie to take the paper and read it over. Will was watching you along with his brother as your hips swayed as you paced the living room floor.

"Fuckin' increased sexual desire? What the shit is that? Why would they give this to us?!" Santi yelled but realized that all eyes were on you as you breathed heavily. Your arms were crossed over your chest and one hand was at your lips, tugging at them, trying everything in your power to keep yourself distracted from looking over at your team.

“Hey,” Santi called your name with furrowed brows. “You alright?” he questioned as he moved closer. Your mind was reeling but your body was convulsing with need, with want. It felt like a fire had been lit from deep within your belly and no amount of pacing or trying to think straight was going to smother it.

Santi’s hand on your shoulder made you jump, too wrapped up in your own body and thoughts to notice how close he had gotten. He was standing directly in front of you and your eyes were darting around his features. Your nose flaring with each pant of a breath you tried to take. His own eyes were trying to take in every movement of your face to see what was going on but he was far too distracted by the parting of your lips.

“Santi.” His name came out as a breathless whimper as you looked at him. Within a moment his hand was on the back of your head and his lips were pressing hungrily into yours.

You heard movement in the kitchen and into the living room but Santi’s lips had moved to your neck and all thoughts were gone. The burn in your body was glowing brighter, threatening to combust when he bit down on the conjunction of your neck and shoulder.

Suddenly another pair of hands were groping at the globes of your ass through your jeans. A groan in your ear that wasn’t Santi had your eyes fluttering. One of your hands was holding the back of Santi’s head, scratching his scalp lightly. Your other hand dipped behind your back and down, groping at what you found to be a very hard cock in someone’s jeans.

Benny’s groan came clear into your ears. “God, you’re so hot,” he muttered which made you release a small shuddering breath. Benny pressed against your back, his hands roaming over your body wherever Santi’s wasn’t.

Your body was already feeling on fire, like every touch was electric. The way Benny’s lips moved over the shell of your ear as Santi worked your clothes off. You were turned into Benny’s arms. He chuckled as he looked down at your wrecked face. “You look absolutely amazing,” he cooed softly, something you didn’t know he was capable of.

Your head turned as Benny kissed along your neck and you saw Will standing with his pants pulled down to his knees and cock in hand. You swallowed thickly as Santi kissed up your thighs and over your mound, his fingers tracing lines up your legs.

“Fuck I need to taste you,” Santi mumured as he pushed your hips a bit wider. You groaned and leaned back against Benny who held you up and slid his hands up under your shirt to grope at your breasts. You turned to see Will still stroking himself quietly at the sight before him. Watching you become totally undone was intoxicating.

Another pair of hands were on your body, taking over groping your breasts as Benny pulled your shirt up over your head. You could barely register that you were completely nude in front of your team as Santi’s tongue ran over your folds, groaning at the taste. When his lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, the third pair of hands were gently caressing and rolling your nipples.

A blinding hot streak ran through your body, straight down to your toes. The way Santi licked into you causing your thighs to tremble. You managed to look down just in time to see Frankie’s head kissing at the swell of your breast.

The more their hands were on you, the faster their movements became, the needier they seemed. The burning ache in your body only seemed to grow as Benny gently guided you backward until you fell onto his lap. At some point he had released his erection. Santi crawled to try to reattach his lips to your core but Benny was quicker and slipped himself into your soaking folds with barely any hesitation.

You cried out as Benny filled you and started to thrust up into you, his hips snapping against your ass. Santi groaned. “Benny you fuckin’ cabron,” Santi muttered and Benny just chuckled in your ear as he nibbled on it. 

“Babygirl, what feels better, Santi’s mouth or my cock? Hm?” Benny asked as his eyes bore into Santi who glared at him but palmed his own length anyways. Frankie moved closer and tried to kiss the other side of your face.

Your mouth was flopping like a fish and you couldn’t create enough saliva to speak. Instead you whined as Santi kissed at the inside of your knee, his hand more furious on his cock now. Will was standing close by, just watching everything but focusing on how wrecked your face was as his brother pounded into you.

Frankie was gentle but groaning against your skin as he tried to capture your mouth into a heated kiss. You kissed him wantonly, your moans filling his mouth and he greedily swallowed every sound. “Hermosa, please take my cock,” Frankie moaned into your mouth and without opening your eyes you nodded.

Benny continued to thrust up into you in haste as Frankie climbed over the arm of the couch and stood so that he could line his cock up. He ran it along your bottom lip, soaking him in your saliva and waiting for you to open before thrusting into you tentatively. You swallowed around him and he groaned at the sensation of your warmth around him.

Benny kept at you, thrusting harder and faster until you were crying out around Frankie’s cock. Frankie and Benny released their loads into you at the same time and you were close to your own but Benny softened and you lost the peak that was building.

You whined and Santi slapped Benny’s thigh. “Let me at her,” he said while standing up. Benny gently lifted you off of him and you whined at the loss of contact. You let go of Frankie’s cock with your mouth after you had cleaned him of all of his cum. He leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, licking into your mouth slowly and groaning at the taste of himself before he was helping you lie down on the couch. Frankie moved himself off the couch as Santi moved to hover over you and plunged his cock right into you.

Your back arched off the couch as you reached up and grabbed at Santi’s shoulders. “Fuck!” you cried out as Santi fucked into you with reckless abandon. You were soaked between your arousal and Benny’s cum and it made Santi twitch hard as he fucked you mercilessly into the couch. The girth of him stretched you differently than Benny had and you mewled and moaned at the sensations, letting Santi’s name fall from your lips like a chant.

“Please! I need to cum!” you screamed as a burning heat grew in the pit of your stomach and threatened to overtake your entire body. Your begging encouraged Santi as the other three looked on. Benny was already hard and leaking again and when your eyes met his, his hand stroked so hard he came all over the floor with a loud moan. Santi leaned over and bit at your collarbone, causing you to cry out as you clenched down around him, hard.

Your entire body was writhing and pulsating as you came harder than you had in a long time around Santi. That put him over the edge and with a few more solid, hard thrusts into you, he stilled and pushed further into you to spill into you. Within moments you felt the dripping between your thighs and you moaned quietly.

Santi leaned down to capture your moan and his lips slid against yours as he thrusted carefully into you, the burn in his body already growing again. “Pope c’mon man,” Frankie said quietly as he moved to pull Santi off of you. “Gotta give someone else a turn,” Frankie patted Santi’s shoulder firmly as you tried to catch your breath. Santi leaned down for another soft kiss before pulling slowly out of you.

Your body jolted at the sudden loss and both men stopped to stare. “Fuck,” Frankie muttered, causing both Benny and Will to move around to see their view. The cum was dripping steadily from your still fluttering cunt and every pair of eyes was mesmerized by the sight.

“Baby you are making a mess,” Santi said, wanting to lean in and clean you up but you put your hand out as a gesture for all of them to give you a minute. Your breath finally calmed down enough for you to be able to respond.

“I…. did…. nothing,” you panted and chuckled but the laugh made the cum dribble out of you even more and you moaned quietly at the sensation of two of your teammates cum dripping from you. Will’s nose twitched as his hand continued to slowly work his cock. The burn inside him was growing but he was a patient man. Always had been.

You lifted your head to look at them and gave a weak smile. They all looked at you with lust-blown eyes but Santi and Frankie were the ones to give you a smile back. “You okay?” Santi asked, his hand gently grazing your ankle in a caressing motion.

You nodded and looked at him. “Yeah. I think. For now,” you chuckled but soon felt your body heat up again. It was a dull ache but you tried to sit up to quelch it. Santi and Frankie both reached out for your arms to help you sit up. “I think maybe I should go shower,” you mentioned and they both nodded before standing up. Their cocks were at eye level for a moment and you felt your mouth water and wanting them both in your mouth at the same time.

They helped you up and your legs definitely felt like jello. You nearly crumbled and Santi and Frankie looked at each other with worry then looked at you as they tried to hold you up. “I got her,” a stoic low voice came from beside you as Will moved closer. He leaned over and wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up with ease.

You giggled quietly but having his warm body pressed against your was making the fire within you grow again. You tucked your head into his neck and breathed in his scent. You couldn’t help the way your lips pouted and you kissed gently along the skin of his neck. He groaned low in his throat.

“Sweetheart, please,” his voice pleaded before he was in the hall and pressing your back up against the wall slowly. His hands grabbed at you to hold you better as his hips pressed into you.

“Will, please,” you whimpered when his teeth found the side of your neck and sank in. You felt the way he growled against your skin and the fire was spreading wildly through your veins again.

Will grunted as he pulled himself back just enough to stroke as his cock and line himself up. With a slow and steady push, he impaled you and filled you. The girth of him stretched you but the slight sting of pain gave way to even more pleasure as he started to thrust.

Each thrust earned him a soft moan from your lips and he couldn’t help but kiss you. His hands were pawing at your chest, twisting your nipples and he watched as your face contorted in pleasure and you cried out against him. “Fuck! Please! Harder!” you begged and didn’t care who heard you. Besides, it was high time it was Will’s turn. The man was the quiet type, strong and sturdy but with his lack of talking in many of the group settings, you weren’t sure of his opinion of you.

But as he pistoned in and out of him, faster and harder with each snap of his hips up into you, you were pretty sure you knew where he stood in his opinion on you. “Fuck, so tight,” he muttered against your lips as he kissed you bruisingly. A clash of teeth and tongues and lips. It was messy and needy but you wanted more.

Will grabbed at your back, his large hands splayed over your now hot skin as he pulled you away from the wall. He stood in the middle of the hall, his shoulders pulled back as his hands snuck down to try holding you under your legs. You held him around the neck until he had a good hold of you again and it was then that he rocked your world even harder.

He fucked up into you with a relentless pace, hitting that spot within you with ease, his cock moving along the shared juices of yours, his brother’s and Santi’s. But all he could focus on was how wrecked your face looked. Your jaw was slack, seemingly permanently so, your eyes rolling back as your head lolled back in pleasure.

Wanton cries were ripped from your chest as he grunted and held you up. Suddenly you felt a second pair of hands come to your ass and massage the flesh. A scratchy beard appeared at your back as sloppy kisses were given to the skin there. “Que linda,” Santi’s voice came in a growl as he watched you get fucked by Will.

“Santi,” you said breathlessly and Will fucked you harder to get your focus back on him. He captured your lips in a heavy kiss, one that forced your mouth into an “o” shape around his tongue as he greedily licked into you.

Santi was busy watching Will’s cock pump in and out of you, his hands still massaging at your ass. His thumb rimmed the hole of tight muscle, moving with each movement that Will was forcing on your body and you moaned a bit louder. Santi looked up at you. “Do you want to be filled, querida?” he asked and he waited until you nodded.

When you did, you mewled as his thumb pressed against the tight hole, slipping one knuckle in. You cried out even at the small intrusion, the way even just that little motion filled you even more. “More!” you cried out and you heard both men curse under their breaths.

Will fucked you relentlessly still as Santi pulled his thumb out, to which you whined in protest, just so he could spit all over his hand. He used his free hand to try to spread your ass cheeks a bit. “Will, man, stop for a second,” Santi commanded and Will obeyed, holding you down onto his cock.

Santi moved one finger into you and you couldn’t help the pained groan that came from you. “Good?” Santi checked in and when you nodded and bit your lip, he started moving his finger within you. He looked over your shoulder at Will and nodded and Will resumed moving.

You choked out a sound as your entire lower body started to clench up. “Oh, she’s close,” Santi praised, his smirk so evident just in the tone of his voice. He leaned down and bit at the soft flesh of your ass at the same that Will leaned into to bite at your collarbone. The dual biting did you in.

You cried out as they fucked you through your orgasm, both sets of muscles clenching down around them. Your lower stomach fluttered and your chest heaved as your mouth lay open in a pant, your eyes screwed shut. Will was close behind and fucked you through your high until he reached his own. When he pushed up into you, stilled with a groan, Santi stopped moving too.

You finally caught your breath and felt yourself come back to reality. Your body was spent, completely but also completely sated. Will carefully pulled you off of his softening cock and the moment your feet hit the ground, all you could feel was all of their cum slipping down your thighs.

Santi moved with you both and released his hand from you and saw you dripping. “Fuck, you’re a mess,” he muttered in a groan. You nodded, your arms still wrapped around Will’s shoulders. Will grunted and wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you to your tiptoes so he could walk you back towards the bathroom.

Once in the room, Will and Santi worked together to strip you down, one moving and the other acting as your balancing stabilizer. Your eyes were heavy and your body felt like it was made of jello as you attempted coherent thoughts. You were naked, in a room with two men who you found extremely attractive. One of whom was leading you into the shower that had at some point been turned on.

“You got it?” Will asked softly as his hand lingered on your lower back as you held yourself up with your arm against the shower wall. You nodded slowly, your head feeling heavy. You let the warmth of the water just cascade over your back and tried to let it soothe you.

You tried to let your mind relax but there was a burning ache that felt it was far off in the distance. You could hear Santi and Will talking quietly but the roar of your heart in your ears combined with the water rushing over you made them also seem far away.

As you slowly started to wash up, your soapy hand brushing over your very sensitive clit, you yelped as a bright flame lit within you. “Fuck!”

Will and Santi immediately rushed up and opened the curtain to see you rubbing at your clit furiously. “What is it?! Are you okay?!” Santi asked in a hurried, worried tone.

“I need - fuck! - I need,” you whined as you squeezed your breast with your other soapy hand and felt your nipple immediately stiffen. Will was first to step into the shower behind you. His large hands came over your breasts as he held you against him.

“What do you need? Tell me. We’re here,” he spoke lowly in your ear, nibbling at the flesh as Santi pulled the curtain a bit on the opposite side to watch. 

“I need to cum!” you screamed as one of Will’s hands came down behind you and his thick fingers ran through your folds. The fire within you was burning brighter by the second and it was almost painful.

“How do you want to cum? On my fingers or my cock?” Will asked and Santi chewed his lip as he watched you writhe against Will.

“Your face. I need your tongue on me. Now!” With your command, Will turned you and dropped to his knees without hesitation. Santi reached out and put his arm up behind your back so you wouldn’t fall.

Will shoved his face against your cunt, licked a broad stripe through your folds before his mouth closed over your clit. You whined out and Santi quickly slipped himself into the shower behind you. His hands wrapped around your breasts and tweaked your nipples. Your head fell back against his shoulder as the warm water cascaded over your chest and stomach.

Your hips moved against Will’s face as his mouth attached to your clit, his tongue licking and flicking as if you were a hard candy. His hands remained on your hips and he used just his tongue to work you up and within a minute there was a gush coming from you and spilling all over his face.

Santi peeked over your shoulder. “Holy shit baby. You just soaked him and not from the shower water,” Santi told you and turned to kiss your cheek. He was oddly proud and smirked against your wet skin as he whispered more praises into your ear, letting your body come back.

Will stood up and let his face get wet from the shower before he held onto your hips and kissed your chest softly, letting the water run down his face. He stood up and wiped the water off with one hand before looking at your blissed out face. “Are you back?” he asked and when you nodded slowly, both men looked at each other and chuckled. “Are you good? Like do you need more or-?”

You shook your head with a blissed out smile on your face. “I think it’s gone,” you told him and you felt Santi kiss along your cheek and down to your neck. “Though if you keep doing that Santi, I might not ever want you to stop,” you laughed weakly and moved your head to the side to allow him more room.

“Who says I want to stop querida?” he mumbled against your skin and you hummed contentedly. Will took the opportunity to actually wash your body with soft, gentle touches. He washed his own face then looked at you and Santi together and felt a new kind of pull in his chest.

“We could do this again… right?” Will asked softly and both you and Santi opened your eyes and straightened up to look at him. You chewed your lower lip and your head turned to look between the two men as the shower continuously rained down on all of you.

When you didn’t speak, mostly from not being able to find the words, Santi spoke instead. “Yeah man. I mean, if she’s down for it, then I’m down for it. I like you Will, you know that. And you,” he turned to lean in to kiss your cheek again. “I don’t think I could get enough of you now that I’ve had you,” he told you and nuzzled into your neck as his arms wrapped around you again. Will stepped forward and wrapped his arms around both your and Santi’s shoulders together and the three of you sat like that until the water ran cold.

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Drunken Confessions

Summary: Santiago shows up at your doorstep in the middle of the night.

WC: 1,120

Warnings: Explicit Language, Drunk Santiago, mentions of sex

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Reader

A banging on your door startled you awake. Rolling over with a groan, you caught a glimpse of the clock: 02:45am. Who the fuck? You thought.

Throwing on your robe, you shuffled down the hall, through the living room, to the front door. There was only one person dumb enough to pound on your door in the middle of the night. You peeked to see if you were right; You were.

With a sigh, you undid the locks. You opened the door, shaking your head at the man in front of you. "What are you doing here, Santi?" You asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

He looked tired, dark circles prominent under his amber eyes. You could smell the whiskey on his breath. "I needed you to know, I love you." He slurred, leaning into your doorway. Your face drew up to the smell of liquor.

He was wasted, and you hoped he didn't drive to you. "How did you get here?" You asked, ignoring his drunken confession.

Santiago groaned, "I walked. Did you hear what I said? I love you." He wobbled on his feet, stumbling into you. You grabbed him tightly, pulling him into your living room.

He plopped onto your couch. "Yeah, I heard you. You're drunk, Garcia." He would never say those words sober, that's why the two of you broke up. You were ready for the next step and Santiago ran with his tail between his legs.

You had met through a mutual friend. Frankie introduced you to him, saying "Trust me, Pope is great." You shouldn't have trusted him. Sure, Santi was great and the relationship lasted for almost a year, but when you said those three words, everything collapsed.

Now, here he was weeks later, drunk on your couch, confessing his love. What were you supposed to do? You couldn't just let him walk back home. "Santi, put your head down. I'm going to grab you some water." You scrambled to the kitchen, filling a glass and grabbed some aspirin for the hangover you know he is going to have. You also decided to shoot a text to Frankie, asking him to come get his friend. He replied instantly, saying he was on his way.

He was sitting up when you returned, holding his head in his hands. You gave him a small smile, handing him the glass and tablets. "Thanks," he whispered.

You took a seat next to him. "You're welcome. Um, so Frankie is on his way. He's gonna get you home safely." You told him, and his eyes saddened. "Drink the water, you'll feel better."

He did as you asked, drinking the whole glass before sitting it on your coffee table. Santi moved to place a hand on your thigh, rubbing subconsciously. It was so familiar, it felt like home. You could feel yourself leaning into his touch, falling again. It wasn't long before another knock was at your door. Thank God, Frankie. You rushed up, answering the door.

Frankie stepped in, "Come on, Pope. Let's get you home." Frankie gestured, and Santi stood up with a groan, stumbling over to him.

Santi stopped in front of you. "I do love you." He said one last time before Frankie led him out the door.

"Good night, hermana." Frankie said as he went to close the door.

"Wait!" You yelled, rushing over to Santi. You raised a hand, caressing his cheek. His stubble prickled your hand. "Santi, tell me again when you're sober." You whispered, placing a chaste kiss to his cheek. You stepped back, bidding them both good night. You crawled back into your bed hoping Santi would call in the morning.

The sun filtered through Santiago's window. I forgot to close the curtains, He thought. Pain coursed through his head as he rolled away from the rays. Memories from the night before started trickling in.

He told you he loved you. He got wasted, pounded on your door, confessed his love, yet he was still alone. "What did I do?" He rolled out of bed, staggering to his bathroom. He stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade down his back, loosening his tightened muscles.

You told him to call, you wanted to hear it from him sober. Would he be able to say those words? Could he say "I love you" without the nudge from liquid courage? No, he couldn't. He can't say those words to you. He didn't deserve you. Santi had a darkness inside him, a darkness he couldn't face. One he wouldn't let dampen your light.

He rested his head against the shower wall. You were perfect, everything he could have asked for and more. When Frankie had introduced him to you, he felt his heart flutter. He remembered your first kiss. He had dropped you off at home after dinner and a movie. He was nervous, you made him nervous. He didn't have to make the first move, you beat him to it. Slotting your lips against his, he could feel the passion, the emotion.

He remembered falling into bed with you for the first time. It had been magical, time-stopping, all consuming. He could have stayed buried inside of you. He spent that night making love to you, something he wasn't sure he knew how to do.

Sure, you had your fights, but what couple didn't. You guys were happy. He was practically living in your apartment. He wanted more. He wanted a life with you. So why, when you finally professed those three words, why did he shut down? Why did he not say it back?

Santiago loved you. He loved you. He had to tell you. He all but jumped out of the shower, barely wrapping a towel around his waist. He ran to his bedside table where his phone sat. He dialed your number, one of the only numbers he has memorized.

One ring. Two rings.

"Hello?"

"I love you. And I don't need Jim Beam to know that. I'm an ass, and I have no excuse. But if you will give me a chance, princesa, I will love you for the rest of my life." His confession spewed off his tongue.

You were silent, too silent. "Baby, please. Say something."

"You promise you're not still drunk?" You questioned.

Santi took a deep breath. "I promise you, I'm stone cold sober. I love you and I should have said it before. I was- I was scared."

You sniffled on the other end of the line. You believed him, without a doubt. Santiago Garcia was not a liar. So you knew, when you said those words to him again, there were no second thoughts. "I love you, too, Garcia."

TAGS: @mylifeisactuallyamess

[juletheghoul]

Oblivius Chapter 4

Am I insane for posting another chapter? Yes. Am I doing it anyway? Yes. Should you message me about how you feel about Spills & Francis? YES!

(Got a song you want added to the playlist? send it to me!)

I've gotten so much love over this series and I cannot tell you how happy it makes me that you guys love these two idiots as much as I do. <3

(Feo means ugly in Spanish but it can be used as a term of endearment between [male] friends)

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Angst, yearning, 18+ language, alcohol (Spills gets wasted)(Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 3 Part 5 Playlist

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

Age: 17

“No Francis I don’t wanna watch this - I’m gonna get scared.” It was late, you were both sitting in his cozy living-room, a big shit-eating grin on his face.

“Why, are you chicken? It’s just The Shining, it's not even scary.” He put it on and despite your protests, he settled and let the movie play, You gave him a pout.

“Okay if you really don’t want to I’ll change it you big baby.” He rolled his eyes to grab the remote but you stopped him.

“Promise you’ll walk me home?” You knew it was one of his favourites. He smiled wide.

“Of course! If it’s too much I'll change it.” He gave you most of the blanket that was draped over his legs and you sat very close to him. He was taller than you remembered him being, having gone through a growth spurt over the summer and he towered over you now. All knees and elbows.

When the room scene came on you burrowed your face into his neck and he wrapped an arm around you, you were so pretty. Your hair smelled so good and he buried his nose into the messy bun you wore. You practically clawed at him, trying to get closer - he made you feel safe.

“Is it still scary?” You spoke into his neck.

“Yes - don’t look yet, just a little longer.”

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

**Present Day**

Pope was holding up a shot-glass full of something and there were shots lined up for the three of you when you walked in.

“Catfish, I never thought it would happen for you feo, but I’m glad it did. Claudia, he’s lucky to have you.” He raised his shot glass and a chorus of ‘To Frankie and Claudia’ rang out before everyone tipped the liquor back.

The burn in the back of your throat couldn’t just be from the tequila, you’d swallowed a lump. You’d forced back the tears stinging your eyes when he dipped her back to kiss her. With her laughing and grabbing his neck they were the picture of romance and the smile you had plastered to your face must have looked manic. Popes eyes caught yours then and his eyebrows raised, a question in his features that you couldn’t quite read but he looked away and left you with your thoughts.

-

You got very drunk. Fall-down drunk. Forget about everything drunk.

“Spills, I think you should stop - you’re going to feel like hell tomorrow.” He was softly taking the shot out of your hand and you tried to fight him but his grip was iron.

“St-op t-telling me wh-what to do Francisco.” You tried to take it back but it seemed like the floor was coming up to say hi. An iron grip around your middle stopped you from losing a couple of teeth.

“Jesus Spills, okay - that’s enough. I’m cutting you off.” He held onto you and you wanted nothing more than to turn around and kiss him but you also wanted to throw up. Decisions decisions.

“I-think-imgonnabesick…” you brought your hand up to your mouth and part of you expected him to let go but he didn’t.

“Take a deep breath, it’s okay, Pope can you get me some water?” He was holding onto you, rubbing soothing circles onto your back and you tried to focus on his hands on you as the whole room spun dangerously. A few minutes later he was holding a cold glass of water to your lips. “Drink the whole thing, I'm going to hold it because if you spill it I'll kill you.” You chugged it down and he put it on the table.

“When did you get so strong, Francis?” Your words were slurred and you felt his chest rumbling with laughter at your question. “You smell so good.” You said it lower- more to yourself, but he heard and the laughing stopped.

“Oh no! Are you okay Spills?” Claudia was there now, her hands pulling your hair away from your face and before you could succumb to the urge to tell her never to call you that Frankie spoke up.

“She’s okay, just need to get her home. You’re okay right, Spills?” His voice was lower, so soothing you could fall asleep to it.

“Hey Frankie, you and Claudia should stay, tell me where she lives and I’ll get her home.” It was Pope, Frankie must have trusted him immensely because before you knew it he was putting you into the front seat of Pope's rental and buckling you in. Claudia was tying your hair back and putting your purse into your lap.

“Be careful please - this is her address, just make sure she gets in and lays face down. There should be a bucket somewhere in her bathroom - water and some aspirin on her night table.” Frankie was talking as you closed your eyes. When you opened them you were parked in front of your place.

“Hey honey, come on let's get you inside. I’m just going to look for your keys, okay?” Pope was taking your purse out of your lap. You nodded vaguely.

He helped you in and guided you to your bed. You could feel him taking off your shoes and throwing the blanket over you.

-----

Someone is driving an ice-pick into my skull.

The light was intense and you swore out loud when you cracked an eye open. You stretched and felt a piece of paper beside you on the bed.

“I locked your door - keys are in your mailbox. Drink the water - take the ibuprofen. Let Catfish know you’re okay when you wake up- he was worried. - Pope”

You groaned.

[Francis]: Spills, are you okay?

[Francis]: Can you answer me please?

[Francis]: Don’t tell me you’re still asleep? What, are you a teenager? Getting drunk and sleeping until 4pm????

[Francis]: Sorry Spills, just worried - can you please let me know you’re okay before I show up?

You could see the three little dots signalling that he was in the middle of typing another message and you quickly called him to stop him.

“Jesus, it’s about fucking time.” He sounded worried and relieved and it pulled on your heart strings in a way you both loved and hated.

“Stop yelling Francisco, I am begging you.” You threw your arm over your eyes to block out the light as you lay there, in yesterday's clothes. You didn’t even want to know what you looked like right now.

“Feeling all that tequila aren’t you? I haven’t seen you that drunk for a long time.” You could hear the faint smile in his voice.

“Yes yes I know - so fucking embarrasing. Did I do.. Or say anything..?” You were trying to ask him without asking him.

“You almost threw up, but if you’re asking me if you started table-dancing you’re good.” He laughed and you sighed with palpable relief. All you needed was for him to tell you that you’d confessed your love or told Claudia to fuck off.

“Thank god. That would have been all I needed. Can you tell Pope I said thanks? Okay, I'm going to go shower for a million years now.” You wanted to hang up, your head was pounding and you needed a few hours of silence and about a gallon of water.

“Okay - see you in a few hours.” You didn’t want to deal with both of them together, not with how you felt right now.

“No Francis I don’t want to entertain, I already embarrassed myself enough yesterday.”

“It’s just me coming and I’ve seen you much worse. I haven’t been home in a long time so, take a shower and do what you have to do and I'll be there at seven.” He hung up and you could have thrown your phone across the room.

Fuck.

---

The knock at the door at exactly seven didn’t surprise you.

What did surprise you was how nervous you were that he would be coming over.

You were literally attached at the hip at one point, he’s seen you at your worst.

“You’re looking much better than you did last night, Spills.” He laughed as he walked past you and into your home.

“Oh god.” You groaned as he laughed, why had you been nervous? You watched him as he set down the bags of what looked to be way too much food on your kitchen counter. Grabbing napkins and forks - completely at ease within your space. “What did you bring?” moved to peak into the bags.

“Chinese - “ He looked to see your eyes wide and the big toothy smile you were giving him and laughed. “Did you think I’d forget you always get Chinese when you’re hungover?” He laughed as he took out what looked to be all your favourites.

“You’re a lifesaver Francis, truly.” You were practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you served yourself.

“I know, I’m practically a saint.” He walked over to your couch and plopped down, an egg-roll in his mouth as he turned on your TV and looked for something to watch. This was it - this was how it was supposed to be.

This was easy.

He had come over in comfy clothes and seeing him on your couch in sweats and a soft flannel was almost too much. His hair had gotten longer than he had worn it before he went away and it looked so soft; practically begged for your fingers.

“Are you still a baby about horror movies?” He asked without looking at you, you saw that he had put on some cheesy zombie movie. A big smile on his face.

“No, I’m okay, as long as you check every single corner of this place before you leave.”

“God I love horror movies, Claudia hates them so we never end up watching.” He sighed. Her name cut through the air like a knife. An ice cube casually dropped into your shirt.

“That’s too bad.” You quickly shoved food into your mouth, stopping yourself from saying anything you’d regret but he knew you too well. He looked at you then, eyes narrowing a fraction.

“Do you like her?” He asked, point blank and your eyes widened at him.

Fuck, don’t make me answer this right now.

“Yeah, she’s great.” To your credit, you tried. You really tried to sound genuine.

“Why don’t you like her Spills?” He sighed heavily, putting his plate down onto your coffee table to face you properly.

“What are you talking about? I said she was great!” You could feel the flush creeping up your neck and licking at your face at the lie. She was great, that wasn’t a lie - you just didn’t like her.

“Seriously? You’re going to act like I can’t tell you’re lying through your teeth? Just tell me! I’m going to marry this girl. I have to know why you don’t like her.” He had a little frown on his face and you could see that he was worried, but what would he have to be worried about? Worried you’d picked up on something he’d missed maybe?

“I just don’t know her, Francis, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with her, you know I'm just weird. She seems really nice and I’m sure I’ll like her once I get to know her better.” You smiled at him sadly, you didn’t want to talk about her anymore.

He smiled back at you and picked up his plate, happy with your explanation.

---

It always seemed to happen this way, ever since you’d been teenagers. He’d put on something scary and you would end up with your face buried into his chest.

“Oh god - that is disgusting!” You shut your eyes as he laughed, his chest rumbling underneath you at a particularly gruesome scene. You felt his hand rubbing your arm, and it was such a comfort that you sighed lightly. The words bubbled up without your permission.

“I missed this.” You felt him rest his chin on the crown of your head.

“Me too Spills, I always missed this while I was away, missed you.” He spoke into your hair, you could feel his breath ghosting along your scalp and your heart raced, you wanted nothing more than to turn and kiss him. His hand stilled, and you felt his heart beating under your ear. You wanted to do it, your whole body seemed to tense with want and you turned slightly to look at him through your lashes. He was already staring at you, his mouth was so close.

His phone rang, snapping him out of his trance and you moved away from him reluctantly.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” He smiled apologetically. “Just take a deep breath, it’ll be okay. I’m on my way.” He hung up and gave you a look that said I’m sorry. “Gotta go, wedding emergency.” He sighed heavily as he got up, taking both your plates to the kitchen with him.

You wanted him to stay, you wanted to grab him and sit him back down on the couch and straddle him. Grab the soft material of the flannel while you kissed him but you didn’t. Instead you smiled and thanked him for coming and for the food.

He made his way through the apartment before he left, opening every door.

“Just checking every corner, so you can sleep.” He smiled.

I love you too.

————————————

Tag list: @frannyzooey @foli-vora @danniburgh @sambucky21 @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @mouthymandalorian @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl @sleep-tight1 @softdindjxrin @wheresarizona @sherala007 @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @greeneyedblondie44 @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @dihra-vesa @gaiuswrites @stevie75 @sweet-creature98 @readsalot73 @tobealostwanderer @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @goldielocks2004 @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @bellaorisa @hellovanessax

[blaringloudandproud]

I showed my friend @gaym83 who knows nothing about AEW or wrestling pictures of AEW wrestlers and these are his thoughts

Tony Khan-“Nervous gay office worker”

Kenny Omega-“He looks like a movie director from marvel but also an actor in a marvel movie”

Cody Rhodes-“gay (homophobic)”

Sammy Guevara-“gay (homophobic) 2. Alternatively, masc Adam Lambert”

Penta El Zero M-“Joker if he was unhinged in a way that’s to the right of the way he’s currently unhinged if that makes sense”

Adam Page-“Country himbo in the best way”

Tay Conti-“Lesbian?”

The Young Bucks-“Gay Geminis”

FTR-“Gay geminis 2:electeic boogaloo”

Jungle Boy-“Pansexual recently turned werewolf”

Luchasaurus-“Sea man”

The Acclaimed-“DJs at a rave nightclub”

MJF-“Scottish Henry”

Chuck and Trent-“Gay tiktok couple”

Matt Hardy-“Severely bigoted evangelist pastor in a covid central mega church. Just some really bad vibes here.”

Miro-“Mood,I think”

Orange Cassidy-“Someone you’d see in a Ford truck commercial”

Darby Allin-“Actor at a haunted attraction”

Chris Jericho-“Isn’t that Brent Buckle?”

Jon Moxley-“*sends shocked pikachu meme*•

Eddie Kingston-“Disappointed dad”

Kip Sabian and Penelope Ford-“Gay twins (non Gemini form)”

Sting-“Dracula if he was in KISS”

Proud n Powerful-“Table cat meme”

Frankie Kazarian-“John Barrowman????????”

Christian Cage-“Spider man villain”

Nyla Rose-“Character in a 90’s witchy movie”

Jake Hager-“Real estate agent named Ryan”

Ethan Page and Scorpio Sky-“Sam and Bucky in a different universe”

Brian Cage-“The type of guy that people think is just a brooding asshole but is secretly a big softie that loves small animals”

Powerhouse Hobbs-“Actor in 80s sci fi movie”

Marko Stunt-“Straight guy that went to warped tour with his gay best friend”

Wardlow-“Aquaman”

PAC-“Aquaman turned villain”

Lance Archer-“Biker with some vibes I can’t place”

Michael Nakazawa-“Cool dad”

Shawn Spears-“Reaction photo energy”

The Dark Order-“People i want to be friends with”

Private Party-“90s movie characters”

Christopher Daniels-“Former marvel character”

Dustin Rhodes-“What’s that skeleton n@$i guy from the first captain America? Cause that’s what I think of when I see this guy. I feel kinda bad saying that but like”

Abadon the Monster-“Goth tiktoker”

Kris Statlander-“Poison Ivy as a wrestler”

Rey Fenix-“Trans posion ivy as a wrestler”

Joey Janela-“Another DJ at a rave nightclub”

QT Marshall-“Owner of an Italian-American restaurant”

Varsity Blondes-“gay best friend duo”

Aaron Solow-“Chill college professor, Probably teaches in the humanities department”

Nick Comoroto-“Rob Zombie stunt double”

Riho-“Chill bisexual”

Brandon Cutler-“Marvel villain”

Sereena Deeb-“Cool lesbian that used to be married to a man”

Leva Bates-“Chill youth group leader that aggressively validates your gender and sexuality and gets mad when people are transphobic/homophobic to you”

Matt Sydal-“Super chill lgbtq+ ally”

TH2-“Twenty One Pilots from another universe”

Andrade El Idolo-“Gay capitalist son of some greedy ceo”

Sonny Kiss-“Femme twink”

Jade Cargill-“Instagram influencer”

Britt Baker-“Bisexual icon”

Hikaru Shida-“Bisexual again”

Anthony Ogogo-“Superhero actor”

Layla Hirsch-“Cool lesbian that defends her trans best friend”

Red Velvet-“Cool mom”

Rebel-“She looks like she’d sic her severely homophobic boyfriend or male family member on me”

The Butcher and the Blade-“Gay leather dads”

The Bunny-“Jenna Marbles turned goth”

Bear Country-“Chaotic best friends hanging out”

Chaos Project-“Unhinged gay anarchists”

Big Swole-“She looks like a super fun person to be friends with”

The Gunn Club-“My three braincells”

The Wingmen-“friend group of gay men”

Fuego del sol-“Idk why but I immediately thought of barnacle boy from spongebob”

Paul Wight and Mark Henry-“Need anchors on the same news thing that have a close friendship”

Ref Aubrey-“Either a lesbian or a severely homophobic evangelist” *i tell him shes bi* “Good for her!”

AEW broadcast team-“Podcasters”

Justin Roberts-“Why do so many of these people look like homophobic evangelist pastors?”

Taz-“Former homophobe that turned into a very enthusiastic ally after his daughter came out”

Vicki Guerrero-“Chill lesbian mom on a 2000s Disney show”

Jake “the Snake” Roberts-“He’d call me a slur on the street”

Don Callis-“Now this guy looks like he’d give me a conversion therapy pamphlet”

[epicene-humanoid]

some trans Jeff thoughts:

he realized he was trans in elementary school and just went fuck it I'll just start introducing myself as Jeffery and see if anyone decides to stop me (as we know, jeff winger can get away with almost anything)

he got top surgery the second he could afford it (around the same time he started at his law firm), and probably bribed someone to keep it a secret

"I'm jeff winger and i would rather look at myself naked than the women I sleep with" are the words of a man proud of his transition

he's really insecure about his fashion sense, which is why he mostly dresses like the douchey guys at his firm in the start of the show, he thought you can't go wrong with the sleazy lawyer look

he will never admit it but he feels super good about the dean hitting on him, because the dean is a (cis) guy, acknowledging that Jeff is more manly than him

i think he starts out stealth and comes out to everyone one by one, probably starting with abed because he knows abed won't judge him and will probably just see it as an interesting backstory.

abed just says it's cool and maybe worth a prequel exploring Jeff's transition, and jeff asks him to predict how all of the members of the group will react to him coming out.

abed's predictions:

britta will be over-the-top supportive and do a ton of research about trans history, probably put together a slideshow just to prove how progressive she is, and jeff will be a little bit weirded out, but also touched that she did all that for him, though he would never let her know that

shirley will be confused, because she doesn't know how someone she trusts and knows so well could be part of a group she was raised to hate, but ultimately realizes that there's nothing actually against the lgbtq people in the bible, and, as a cool character development arch, starts to advocate against use of the bible to justify bigotry

troy will just think it over and decide that Jeff's physique and coolness are even awesomer knowing how much work he'd had to put in to be like that, and respects Jeff's manliness even more

annie will give him a hug, say something sweet about how she'll always love him, and worry about his health, because even she read somewhere that taking testosterone makes you more likely to have a heart attack, jeff will explain that the risk is still only as high a cis guy, and she'll be the one to always remind him to take his shots

peirce will say at best say "jeff winger used to be a chick?" and at worst call him a slur, either way there's sure to be a lot of misgendering from him, and pestering to know Jeff's deadname (needless to say, Jeff just doesn't tell peirce)

the whole group goes out of their way to keep their beach trips a secret from pierce (the girls don't want him there anyways, he's too liable to be creepy) even though jeff knows that even if pierce saw his scars, all he would have to do is make up a story about some childhood accident and pierce would never question it

sorry this ended up being super long. can I hear some of your headcanons for him?

YES ALL THIS!!! yes yes i’m fully accepting this as canon oh my god

i’m about to type a whole ass ESSAY at midnight because i have been DYING to talk about this for months ajfdksljk,,, this is going to be obscenely long and i might end up adding even more to it as i continue to rewatch the show because there is truly no shortage of trans jeff content (especially when you’re trans and see transness in every little thing ajdkslfkjs)

spoiler warning for literally everything about this show under the cut <3

i 100% agree, i feel like he realized he was trans super young, especially since in the show we see him as a little kid a couple of times. 

like look at little jeff with the oversized sweatshirt and little ponytail!! that’s childhood trans fashion. not to be dramatic but part of me thinks that jeff’s dad left before he fully came out to his family (which gives him even more angst about it, because until that one Thanksgiving episode, he’s never able to prove to his dad that he’s a better man), but part of me thinks that his dad left after he came out (which adds that spicy i-should-have-stayed-in-the-closet guilt that he has to work through). 

either way, because his dad wasn’t there, he had to base his concept of masculinity on something else, which was becoming a lawyer!! there’s some line that’s like “after the dust and divorce papers were settled the only man i looked up to was [the lawyer guy]”. like, replacing your father figure in your mind with the concept of “a job where you can talk your way in and out of anything and distort other people’s concept of reality”? that’s trans.

 and the fucking THANKSGIVING EPISODE... i struggle to watch it without crying hehe <3 yeowch! the dichotomy of willy jr. being the “wrong” kind of man because he’s “too soft” but jeff also not being enough despite adhering to all the social standards of masculinity... fuck!! this whole scene of him telling his dad “i am Not well adjusted” and talking about how he gave himself an “appendix surgery scar” when he was a kid and he still keeps the get-well-soon letters from his classmates under his bed? oh my god. the implication of people loving him not despite his scars but because of them?? trans. i can’t think about this episode for too long or i’ll start yelling.

OH and this scene? where he talks about how his mom got him a girl costume for halloween?? and everyone said “what a cute little girl” and after a few houses he stopped correcting them?? and “once the shame and the fear wore off, i was just glad they thought i was pretty”?? THAT’S TRANS... the man needs validation oh my god... and then in all the halloween episodes we see he has these ultra-masculine costumes (a cowboy, David Beckham, one of the fast and furious guys even though he never watched the movies, a boxer with his DAD’S boxing gloves... god) costumes are about becoming something else and he always chooses to be hypermasculine and that is trans.

THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION EPISODE!!!!!!! being uncomfortable during P.E. is a queer experience. period. but him being specifically uncomfortable in the clothes someone else is assigning to him? trans. “are we gonna talk about clothes like a girl? or use tapered sticks to hit balls around a cushioned mat like a man?” TRANS. and him eventually stripping in public? celebration of transness. and the fact that he eventually becomes comfortable in both the uniform and his own style!! trans!! god i love this episode. 

AND AND AND!!! the gay dean coming out episode!!! where it’s the three of them discussing the best way for the dean to come out as gay despite not entirely identifying with that label!! so we have both frankie and the dean who are sort of ambiguously queer, and jeff who’s a stealth trans man who’s probably only out to only the study group at this point. this scene where the dean and jeff have this like eyebrow communication while frankie is talking is just so cute. queer-to-queer communication. “I am so curious” “oh?” “intellectually.” “oh...” ajfdksljfk this scene just screams high school GSA to me and i love it so much.

and SPEAKING of the dean!! i totally see you on that. i feel like jeff has some internalized homophobia/biphobia (like he’d throw punches over someone else, but when it comes to himself he has a lot of shame). and also seeing the dean so confident in all his different outfits/costumes has a weird affect on him bc it’s like “okay, the dean, a cis guy, can do that, but i as a trans guy could Not because that’s Breaking the Rules”. which, like, throwback to the halloween thing. of course there’s no right way to be masculine, but mr. winger does not know that.

another thing!! the episode where their emails get leaked? that includes his emails with his therapist. fuck!! he was outed to the whole world in that episode!! no wonder he was so fucking angry!! this whole episode (and really any time he mentions his therapist) is so interesting when you think about them as a person he talks to about his transition. OH which adds to the thing with the dean!! “and you told your therapist you wanted to be alone this weekend” and “not you jeff, i know you’ll be visiting your dad” ”I told you to stop reading my emails”. luckily his study group has his back and just makes fun of him for emailing astronauts lmao

and WHO can forget “they’re giving out an award for most handsome young man!!!!” what else is there to say about this line besides: he’s trans. you know he didn’t get awarded enough for being a handsome young man when he was a kid, and no amount of compliments when he’s fully-grown can really make up for that. some people crash a kid’s bar mitzvah to cope with the fact that they struggled to be seen as themselves when they were a teenager <3

also his weird relationship with pierce? where he kind of hates him (understandably lmao) but at times has this almost-friends-almost-father-son relationship with him? especially in this episode where he’s forced to bond with him and ends up having a good time by accident (at a barber shop no less, the perfect place to Be A Man with your Man Friend). idk what to say about him besides the fact that pierce says his mom wanted a girl when he was born and made him dress like a girl (and his middle name is anastasia!) so if they’re gonna do any bonding over transness it’s gonna be that. 

okay one last thing and then i’ll shut up for the night. this episode kills me (and almost kills jeff hahahahelpi’mcrying). it’s a very Trans thing to not be able to visualize your future self, it just is. growing up trans at the time he did? i don’t know what kind of future he saw for himself, but i’m so happy that he ended up with a group of friends who became his family and love him the way they all do. i’m so emotional over this asshole it’s ridiculous. 

in conclusion:

they’re trans, your honor <3

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I said this earlier today, but that was before they officially announced the queen’s death, and I sort of came up with the idea on the fly. I have now thought about it more, and I would like to emphasize again how much this is the chance for the perfect, poetic, narratively satisfying end to Mock the Week.

For those who don’t know the history (and I think most people do even if they haven’t watched the whole show, but in case people don’t), Frankie Boyle was a regular on Mock the Week from its beginning in 2005 until he got kicked off in 2009. And he was more than just a guy who was at every episode - he was the face of the show. For better or for worse - and I really like re-watching his old episodes but I also recognize that there are lots of reasons why this was not a great thing and in many ways the show is better off now for being more balanced - he took over almost every exchange and it was pretty much The Frankie Boyle Show for its first four years. He got attention by saying outrageous vulgar things, steamrolling other comedians and splitting viewers in the process. Like I’ve said, I like to watch Frankie Boyle from those early days, but I would never try to defend everything about him.

In 2009, he made this joke about Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II:

At the time no one made a big deal about it, but a little while later Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross made and obscene phone call to a Fawlty Towers actor (some weird shit happened in 2009), and everyone lost their minds about that, and some people decided the Frankie Boyle joke was another example of unacceptable vulgarity. And then they started doing things like this:

Frankie hung onto his spot at Mock the Week for a little while after that, but they stopped letting him do the stand-up round. And after that season ended, he was fired from the show. This made a lot of viewers very very angry, and led to a lot of people shouting on the internet about how Frankie Boyle was the only good thing about that show and it’s shit without him. Which makes sense initially, but it is a bit impressive that they managed to keep it up for so long, because YouTube videos of Mock the Week episodes from years after that are full of “Bring back Frankie” comments. Dara O’Briain has said he was still getting frequent Tweets, over ten years later, demanding Frankie Boyle’s return.

I have mixed feelings about that whole situation, because I love Frankie Boyle and always want to see him do more things, but also, most of the “Bring back Frankie!” people are just assholes who like that he said “politically incorrect” things and think the show is too “woke” without him and I hate them. Having said that, I also hate the people who forced Frankie out of that show over a joke about the queen. That’s really fucked up to me. He did say some stuff in those years that I think is wrong, stuff I wouldn’t try to defend and stuff that I think Frankie Boyle circa 2022 wouldn’t try to defend, but they didn’t get him on that. No one fired him for using slurs against disabled people in his jokes - apparently that’s all fine. The stuff about disabled people is fine, but don’t talk shit about the queen. BBC circa 2009 employing multiple people whom they knew at the time to be pedophiles is fine, but don’t talk shit about the queen. Jonathan Ross met his wife when he was twenty-six and she was sixteen and married her two years later, but don’t make a rude phone call to an old man. What I’m saying is I hate people who have a problem with vulgarity for vulgarity’s sake instead of looking at harm that’s actually done. But I also hate people who say, “Bring back the vulgarity because those [insert slur here] deserve to be offended!”, because obviously those are terrible people. Everyone involved in this situation is terrible.

Now, after four years of Frankie Boyle-era Mock the Week followed by thirteen years of people shouting “Bring back Frankie!”, they’ve announced that this long-running show is coming to an end. The first episode of its final season was supposed to start next week, though I assume it’ll now be postponed until at least the following week. And I just think we will all be wasting a golden opportunity, with several situations converging in just the right way, if we don’t go for the perfect bookended finale here.

A week and a half from now, they do the first episode of the new season. Dara O’Briain hosts, and Hugh Dennis sits among young, up-and-coming comedians as the gusts. They do a whole episode, and they don’t mention the queen even once. Not just that they don’t make any jokes at her expense. Not even just that they don’t mention her death. They don’t mention her at all. There’s plenty of other stuff to talk about, it wasn’t exactly a slow news week before the queen died. They talk about the various economic crises, they talk about the way Boris went out, they talk about Liz Truss. But they don’t mention the monarchy.

After Scenes We’d Like To See, they sit back down, and Dara announces the final points and calls out all the participants’ names, the way they always do. Then, when they’re about to end the show, Frankie Boyle, who hasn’t appeared until that moment, walks out on stage. He strides across to Dara’s desk, and grabs the microphone out of Dara’s hand. He looks straight down the camera, and says, “Her pussy’s fucking haunted now, the colonizing cunt.” Then he drops the mic, and then they cut to black. Mock the Week gets canceled early, that’s the last episode of it that ever airs. That’s how it ends.

If they don’t do things that way, then what was even the point of the last 17 years?

[justinssportscorner]

Aysha Qamar at Daily Kos: 

An entire girls basketball team decided to kneel during the national anthem of the Oklahoma 6A state basketball tournament Thursday night. Playing against Midwest City High School, every member of the Norman High School girls team knelt but instead of being applauded for their stance against racism and police brutality, announcers on the National Federation of State High School Association (NFHS) Network's official live stream attempted to degrade the players by using disgusting racial slurs.

Clearly forgetting to turn off their mic during the anthem, the game announcers were heard making racist and derogatory comments toward the players. “They're kneeling? I hope Norman gets their ass kicked," one announcer could be heard saying. Another said, "F**k Norman. I hope they lose. C’mon, Midwest City. They're gonna kneel like that? Hell no." Later in the clip, an announcer could be heard muttering, “F*cking [N-words].”

Video clips of the incident posted by the program's junior varsity coach Frankie Parks have since gone viral. Alongside sharing the clip, social media users noted that racism like this is the reason why people kneel for the anthem. “See why we do it!?! They still think it’s about the flag,” NFL player Gerland McCoy, who also kneels for the anthem, said on Twitter.

[...]

In a statement released Friday, announcer Matt Rowan admitted it was his voice using hate speech to describe children. He then blamed his racist ramblings on his blood sugar.

t was not until a subsequent interview with TMZ Sports that Rowan bothered to apologize to the student athletes whom he’d insulted. He also claimed he wasn’t trying to hide behind his diabetes.

The network issued a statement Friday noting that it is “aggressively investigating” the incident and “condemns racism, hate, and discrimination.” The NFHS streams high school games not only in Oklahoma but around the country, so such behavior is unacceptable and a statement issuing an apology is not enough.

After issuing a statement Friday in support of its students and their resilience, Norman Public Schools superintendent Nick Migliorino confirmed that Norman Public Schools would no longer allow NFHS to broadcast its games.

Dear Matt Rowan, blaming your racist outburst about Norman High School basketball players kneeling during the national anthem Thursday night on diabetes is cowardice.