#cant believe he popped her bubblegum thats basically a proposition jia. and u wonder why ppl think they're gonna fuck.

[absolutesort]

day 28 — frankie & dylan.

setting :    living room  /   casa amor.

time :  idk sometime in the afternoon but obviously before the big game. 

featuring :    dylan, her best friend in the world, dont hate her  @cruelsxmmcr​

dylan.

he had noticed frankie rushing inside after the whole race and consequent naked laps, but with adela following her first, he figured he’d check up on her later. he sits next to her, bumping his shoulder to hers. “not going to lie, i never thought we’d streak together.” or with josh and val. but frankie and josh is the most shocking of it all. “day one’s not over yet and it’s already crazy.” he’s very rarely the type to want alone time, but after everything, he doesn’t mind some quiet time right now. 

frankie.

“really?” frankie responds, a bubble of bright blue gum snapping back against her lips. “that’s funny. i’ve always dreamed of streaking with you. it’s like the number one fun bonding activity for future inlaws. maybe callie and naomi are doing it in the other villa, too.” smirking, she shoves her shoulder back against his, then drops her weight back against the sofa cushions, legs lifting to tuck over his lap. “tell me about it. i’m wiped.” yawning, she tucks her head into one of the cushions, curling up like a cat. “y’wanna take a nap with me?” frankie asks, foot kicking against dylan’s thigh. “i’m a really good big spoon. and a little one. i just like spooning, really.” half-asleep, she blows another bubble of gum, only opening her eyes to see how large it’s gotten. 

dylan.

he lets out a loud laugh at her words. “you dreamed a little too hard, i reckon, but hey, your dreams just came true. true, we’re now bonded on a much deeper level.” he looks at her with a dimpled grin, moving to rest his arms over her legs. “oh yeah, mate, i’d kill for a nap right now. i need to be able to last through tonight.” he reaches to pop the bubble. “oops.” he grins. “okay, i’m the big spoon, you’re the little spoon. with arms like these, i give the best hugs and cuddles.”

frankie. 

"wow,“ frankie responds, astonished when dylan pops her bubble. "that’s like… dirty.” or at least it feels it somehow, swallowing the gum as he nestles in behind her for a nap. she wonders how much gum she’s swallowed in her life — whether it’s really all that bad or if, when she eventually kicks it, the coroner will cut her open like a pinata to find putty sculptures coating the inside of her lungs in a bright kaleidoscope of colour.  "i told miles you have dwayne the rock johnson arms…“ frankie muses, tiredly, as she tugs one of his arms over her waist, wriggling to get comfortable. "it sucks that we can’t just share a bed later. will you read me a bedtime story?” even though it’s 4pm, and the evening’s entertainment hasn’t even begun. she trusts that someone will wake them in time, and she’ll throw on a sequin boob tube, throw her hair in a bun, apply some lipstick in about five seconds flat and call it a day.

dylan.

"you lost the race and made me run around the villa naked, so i pop your gum bubble,“ he says like he’s retaliating, playfully narrowing his eyes at her before he lies down behind her. he’s so tired he’ll probably be out within the next ten minutes. he needs that nap if has to be his usual cheery self tonight, especially since there’s definitely going to be entertainment. "hell yeah, my arms being compared to the rock’s? that’s a grade A compliment.” he only wishes he can have the rock’s physique. his arm goes around the blonde’s waist, pulling her closer to him in a comforting cuddle. “mate, i know. i’m salty about that.” it’s like the producers are setting these rules with the sole purpose of tempting them to fuck up. he’ll probably end up sleeping outside, else he would’ve shared a bed with frankie if he could. “you want an australian tale?” he remembers a lot of them, all dating back to the days his grandparents would read him and callie stories as kids.

frankie.

eyes half-shut, her focus on the world is slipping, as if somebody had cranked up the dimmer switch. “i’ve got your gross germs in my mouth until i die, now,” she sighs, the only weight behind it being the vague desire to wind him up. she’s probably the least likely person in this villa to care about germs, a strident believer in the thirty-second rule when a sandwich hits the floor, licker of anything sticky she comes across and a serial minesweeper for abandoned drinks in clubs. “yeah. obviously. i’m great at compliments.” her hand fastens over dylan’s when he draws her closer, nuzzling into the warm contact. if one of their new roommates walked in right now, they might get the wrong impression, which probably wouldn’t help either of their chances at getting to know the bombshells ( a good thing, depending on who you asked ). still, it would be funny to fuck with them. frankie almost suggests as much, but she’s too tired for planning the mechanics of half-baked ploys right now, safe and sleepy in the comfort of dylan’s arms. “yeah, why not. does it have spiders? i love those freaky little fuckers.”

dylan.

"you’ll be fine. you like picking noses for dares, apparently,“ he retorts, a smile curving up his lips, although she can’t see it. he’s already shut his eyes and pretty much disconnected from everything happening around him, save for the conversation he’s happening with frankie. after having to hear four people tell him he’s made out a fool, all he wants is to think of something else. "spend one day with me and callie over there and you’ll meet like five different kinds. you’ll befriend them right away,” he says, keeping frankie close to him, arms tight. “i don’t think there’s a tale about spiders. there are ones about wombats, emus, and possums though.”