#i saw a photo on pinterest and got inspired

[sharopiix]

mobbu!!

[jackhues]

it's not hate... | oscar piastri

note: okay so i was bored and i got a random inspiration i hope y'all like this <3 i think this will have 3/4 parts, but they might be split up if i reach the picture limit.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader, logan x best friend!reader, one sided!enemies to lovers

next

faceclaim: various, from pinterest

youruser & logansargeant

liked by y/bffsuser, oscarpiastri, yourmomsig & others

youruser: gang's back together 🤘

pinned youruser: welcome back to america @/logansargeant glad you could join us! -> user: i love how she seems sarcastic but i know babes is so happy he's back

user: logan living out his frat dreams

user: this would be logan daily if he didn't go into racing

user: wait i'm confused... who's this? -> user: y/n y/ln! from what we know, her and logan are best friends since they were born or something. she finished her undergrad, but i think she's doing law school now (?)

user: i ship -> user: ew

y/bffsuser: not pictured is the entire drink falling out -> logansargeant: it wasn't my fault! she moved her head -> youruser: yeah okay, blame the woman -> logansargeant: i blame when she's wrong. and you are. -> user: stop they're so sibling

yourmomsig: aw no one posted the pic of y/n falling off the bed during the fight -> youruser: MOM! -> logansargeant: i tried but she stole my phone -> user: well we know who the favorite child is now

y/bffsuser: @/yourprivuser no photo creds -> user: IS THAT Y/N'S PRIVATE USER???!!! I NEED TO BE ACCEPTER NOWWW this comment thread has been deleted

oscarpiastri has requested yourprivuser!

--

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--

y/bffspodcast

liked by user, user, oscarpiastri & others

y/bffspodcast: surprise episode out now! take a listen for exclusive deets on logan's love life, his best friends, and the time he almost became a dad to a baby crocodile

tagged: logansargeant

user: i'm sorry, logan did WHAT NOW?

user: A CROCODILE?? -> user: well he does live in florida

user: it's a crime that y/n and oscar haven't met before. i need the irl best and the f1 bestie to get together and spill tea on logan -> oscarpiastri: well we might have to change that this weekend -> user: OSCAR??!! PLEASE DO IT! I BEG!

--

Y/BFFS PODCAST - TRANSMISSION timestamp: 4:40-8:23

y/bff: i mean, you've known y/n your whole life, right?

logan: my whole life, yup. like, i was maybe only a few hours old when i saw her for the first time. you already know this, but like we have the same birthday, december 31st 2000. and we're also born at the same time, in the same hospital, literally right across the hall from each other.

YB: same time? like seriously? how did i not know that?

LS: *laughs* i mean, same time. down to the minute, at least. it's why we call each other 'twin', we're born at the same time. and like our parent knew each other and joked that we might be born on the same day... little did they know

YB: *laughing* that's insane. oh my gosh, and you guys have just been best friends since then. i love that. i assume you're the one who's got all the younger high school stories about her. i got some college ones, but you have the real gold mine, don't you?

LS: i've got my fair share of our insane stories, yeah

YB: mind sharing one?

LS: i'm trying to think of one that's not absolutely insane... oh okay! so one time, we were in the pool, it was summer, and then y/n just stops trying to murder me with the pool noodle and goes still. i'm confused as hell, so i'm trying to see what she's doing but she tells me to shut up. she's watching the bushes around the pool, so i swim to the edge of the pool next to her, and the two of us are just watching the bushes. i have no idea what's going on, but y/n's waiting for something. and then, a baby croc starts walking out of it, and it's so small, but like it's mom was nowhere. we didn't know what to do. and y/n *laughs* y/n goes, "oh we have to adopt it". i'm like what? but she just start spiraling "oh we're his parents now. he just saw us. what if the mom died? i don't know how to feed a baby croc? but i have to learn, it's my baby croc now." finally she calms down, and we get everything sorted out, but she cried when we had to leave the baby crocodile. adopted it and all within three seconds of seeing it

YB: *laughing* i'm dead, oh my god that sounds like her though. that's so fucking funny, she made you a crocodile dad!

--

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--

--

--

Y/N ADJUSTED HER SUNGLASSES, the Miami sun nearly blinding her as she walked towards the paddock. Next to her, her racer best friend, Logan Sargeant, nearly skipped along next to her. She could feel his excitement at being able to race so close to home again, and it honestly helped lift her own spirits.

Logan smiled and waved at some cameras and fans nearby, grinning brightly and taking the time to stop and sign some stuff. Once the fans had trickled away, Logan made his way back to his best friend, throwing his arm over her shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked, turning his head away from the cameras so they couldn't read his lips.

"I'm great," she promised.

"It's not too late to change your mind," he reminded her. "We can say you were sick, or you weren't feeling well, or you just forgot, or-"

"-That I have diarrhea?" Y/N grinned a little. "You know, all of your solutions to this thing seem to involve me just running away or ignoring it."

"I mean, it's how you take on most of life," he shrugged.

"I've never felt more called out in life," she rolled her eyes. "Look, we've got a plan. I head over to the garage first, take a few pics, then say 'oh I have to go. I haven't even been to Williams' garage yet'. I've got this Logie, I promise. Besides, I don't even hate him. If I did, there would be a lot more violence threatened and swearing involved. I also would've blocked him."

Logan didn't look necessarily convinced, but he didn't argue either. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, "If you need anything, send me a 911 text. I'll be on standby the entire time, I swear."

Y/N smiled at the boy, waving goodbye as she dropped him off to the Williams garage.

"I know you'll be there," she smiled. "It's what we do. Be there for each other."

MEANWHILE, IN THE MCLAREN GARAGE, the Aussie driver was pacing back and forth, turning back to the entrance every few seconds.

"Yeah, great job at being subtle, Osc," Lando Norris, his teammate, commented sarcastically. "Who're you even waiting for?"

"Y/N," Oscar answered simply.

Normally, he'd engage in banter with his Brit teammate, but he was too nervous to give answers longer than a few words. He was finally going to see Y/N, in person. Not on the other side of a screen, not a flash of hair that ran away too quickly, not a caller ID he'd see on Logan's phone all too often. After all these years, he was finally going to be able to see her, face to face.

He had to admit, he did seem a little pathetic trying to contact her. But the DM he'd sent years ago on her public account had never gone through. And he'd left it, thinking maybe they weren't meant to know each other, simply to know of each other.

But then he'd seen her private instagram, with so few followers, he knew that she wouldn't be able to miss it. But maybe she didn't use it, or maybe it was an old account, but he had no luck on that account either.

He finally mustered the courage to ask Logan for her number and just reach out. He was surprised and a little shocked she said yeah, but he was in too deep now to change his mind.

"Oooh, who's Y/N?" Lando teased. "Is she a girlfriend?"

Oscar whipped his head towards his teammate, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Why are you a literal child?" he asked. "Y/N's a friend. Well, she's a friend of Logan's. His best friend. And everyone found out the two of us never met each other, and they went crazy saying we have to meet and whatnot. So I invited her here to take a few pictures."

Lando tilted his head, almost as if he was dissecting the truth behind Oscar's words.

"Logan? Logan Sargeant's best friend? Her name's Y/N?"

"Yes, Lando. And everyone says I'm his best friend in racing, so we have to meet or something."

"Alright, I believe you," Lando decided. "Call me when she gets here, I want to take pictures with her too."

"Sure," Oscar answered nonchalantly.

Turns out, there was no need to call him over, because a second after he'd said that, she walked in.

Oscar stared at her as she looked around the garage, her eyes drinking in just how different it was from the Williams' garage that she was used to.

Lando made a noise between a snort and a laugh, causing Oscar to glare at him.

"No, nothing," Lando nodded to himself, ignoring Oscar's silent question. He cupped his hands over his mouth, shouting across the garage, "Y/N!"

Her head whipped over to the sound of her name, her posture relaxing the slightest bit as she realized it was only Lando and Oscar and not some random person. She didn't exactly know them, never even met them, but she knew enough of them to be a little comfortable.

She smiled slightly as she reached them, "Hey. How are you guys?"

Lando looked to Oscar, who simply stared at Y/N, before decided to take the reigns. "We're good, thanks for asking. I'm Lando, my friend here is Oscar, and I assume you already know that."

"Yeah, I watch enough F1 to know that," she smiled, falling into easy conversation with the Brit.

"Well it's nice to know you didn't take an invitation from a man who's name you didn't know," Lando joked. "That's what I call important information."

"I went a step further and made sure he was known by a friend of mine," Y/N continued the banter. "My best friend." She turned to acknowledge Oscar, "Logan spoke highly of you for a long time now. It's nice to finally be able to meet you."

"Yeah, same," he nodded. "I mean, Logan's spoke a lot about you too. All the time. He still does. It's nice to meet you too."

Oscar resisted the urge to close his eyes and curse himself out.

Y/N didn't seem to mind his stuttering and stumbling. In fact, her posture seemed to straighten out a bit, and her smile turned a little bit more warm.

She was beginning to realize that no matter how bad Logan had gotten it, Oscar was human too. He was new to this, and he probably had someone defending him the way she defended Logan. Maybe she was a little harsh on him. She just didn't like how it wasn't fair.

It was why she wanted to be a lawyer. She wanted to try and make things fair for people.

But in defending Logan with her entire heart and soul... she was being unfair to Oscar. She could try and be nice. It's only for a few minutes. After that, she could go back to avoiding him.

"So, how do you wanna do the pictures?" Y/N asked. "We should get them done now, I might have to leave early if my laptop doesn't work. I have a few assignments due."

"Right, yeah," Oscar nodded. "We can- uh-"

"The lighting's nice over there," Lando pointed out. "I'll take the picture of you guys."

"You don't wanna be in it?" Y/N asked.

"No, I'm alright," Lando smiled. "Unfortunately, I'm not best friends with Logan, unlike you two. Besides, I'm pretty good with a camera."

Y/N frowned at the reminder that Lando was one of the drivers who wasn't friends with Logan. She quickly fixed her expression, but Oscar noticed (only because he'd has his eyes on her ever since she entered). He was tempted to ask her about it, but she smiled and his brain froze up.

"Alright then, let's take the picture."

--

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, y/bffsuser & others

youruser: miami, you were fun 🤍

tagged: logansargeant, landonorris, oscarpiastri

pinned youruser: to my haters: fuck you, i'm always proud of logan. no matter what. i chose him as my best friend and i'll choose him again every time. i'm just sad y'all have never loved someone so much to understand what it means to always be proud of them, no matter any outcome. he's my best friend, my brother, and the outcome of race isn't going to change that

pinned youruser: i heard there was a logan's besties meet up @/oscarpiastri -> oscarpiastri: oh yeah, did you end up making it? -> youruser: swipe to find out!

landonorris: same time next race 👀👀 -> youruser: wanna do my class for me?? -> landonorris: i will understand nothing. -> oscarpiastri: as if you understand anything ever -> landonorris: all grown up now, are you? -> oscarpiastri: shut up

mclaren: it was a pleasure having you stop by! next time, you should stay for longer! -> williamsracing: stop stealing her from us

williamsracing: loved having you around for the weekend!

alex_albon: wowwww, i didn't even make the cut this weekend -> youruser: all the pics i took of you were 0.5s -> alex_albon: thanks for showing some mercy

user: stop she looks so pretty

user: logan bestie meet up... but where's logan? -> user: getting attacked by a haas in his home race -> user: oof

user: TELL EM GIRL!

user: i want what she and logan have. like they'd DIE for each other

oscarpiastri: it was great to finally meet you! hopefully it's not the last time either -> user: boy please TRY to be subtle

--

--

PART TWO

notes: i hope y'all liked this, don't forget to like + reblog! alsoo... comment on this part (not any others) if you want to be tagged, i might not respond but i'll add you to the taglist if you comment.

but my tags don't always work, so you might want to follow my writing tag 'naqia writes!' or the tag for this short series 'the bsf of my bsf! series' so they show up on your dash at some point :)

[httpsserene]

𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐰/𝐥𝐧𝟒

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you’re upset with the switch up the internet has pulled on you. a few years ago, everybody was saying you were too pretty for lando, but now they’re drooling over him? you will not be letting this slide.  📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: fluff. mild angst. humor. twt users being twt users. reader is a fashion designer (not important but mentioned). reader is also wild af. brain-rot. not beta-read. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lando norris x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: smau. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: spice girl • aminé

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: in honor of lando's birthday :) look y’all—i saw one tik tok edit that was like “why is lando kinda…” and i audibly said KINDA???? and then i got mad like, how are people just noticing how fine he is. and then i saw another one that was like, “oh everybody thinks charles is the prettiest on the grid…but now introducing: lando” and i almost threw my phone across the room :) so this is inspired by me flexing that i have always thought lando was fine, and that i’m also mad that i have to share him. loves, this is complete brain rot and it took me years to recreate these ig posts for some reason; have fun reading !!!

all pics are from pinterest/op's

want to be added to my taglist or submit a request? send me an ask!

all of my posts can be found from my table of contents

anything on your mind? talk to me!

twitter • three years ago, 2020

instagram

yninstagram • three years ago, 2020

liked by landonorris, mclaren, maxfewtrell, lewishamilton, and 16,175,978 others

yninstagram lando norris is the man i want to spend the rest of my life with. he’s perfection personified. the most soft, kindest, sweetest, considerate, and funniest man has allowed me the privilege of being his girlfriend. i’m forever thankful that we get to grow together. he’s the cutest, hottest, and prettiest boy to ME–and that’s all i care about, and that’s all you need to accept. i don’t give a FUCK about your opinions on who *i* should date. i’m the only person who’s decisions matter concerning my romantic relationships. why the hell should y’all bitches who don’t even use their own photos for their pfp’s and use a k-idol’s face instead, dictate who is hot or not. it’s incredibly vein, disgusting, and immature behavior from people who think they’re my fans. acting like jealous school children isn't cute; i was never your property. it’s hilarious too, considering some of y’all are grown women DOUBLE my age talking shit about my business–go worry about why your kids don’t want anything to do with you anymore.

tagged landonorris

view comments

yninstagram matter of fact, go ahead and change your little profile pictures to real pictures of you, i don’t want to see any filters. then we can all see that all y’all want to do is spread insecurity stemming from your own self-hatred 🙂

yninstagram and while i have you all here, my winter season clothes will be restocked on the 15th.

comments have been disabled.

twitter • imessage • 2023

instagram

landonorris • august 24th • zandvoort ⚑

liked by yninstagram, mclaren, carlossainzjr, and 547,930 others

landonorris back in my favorite place

view comments

yninstagram first!! stay back hoes 🤺🤺

➥ user being called a hoe by y/n is not what i expected this year

➥ user she has notif’s 😭on 😭 for 😭 lando 😭

yninstagram how r u so HOT 🥵

yninstagram that sweater is mine now 👺

➥ landonorris i can just get another for you love

➥ yninstagram …i want this one lan🫤

➥ landonorris okay it’s yours 🫠

user neither of them have any backbone when it comes to each other

➥ yninstagram as it should be 😤

user might have to trip and fall into lando’s arms this weekend

➥ yninstagram i’m flying in tomorrow rethink your plan 🙂

➥ user i think i’ll avoid lando like the plague this weekend 😅

➥ user smart decision babes

landonorris • september 12th

liked by yninstagram, lnfour, tumitravel, and 425,395 others

landonorris coming in hot @ tumitravel

view comments

yninstagram come in me—i mean come home to me haha 😳😊

➥ landonorris babe please not in front of the sponsors 😧

➥ tumitravel oh no pls don’t stop for us 🫣 we stan y/n

user i saw this photo shoot LIVE!!! lando was so sweet, he signed my hat for me, and he smells so good 😩😩

➥ yninstagram i’ll chop off your nose and then you can be voldemort for halloween 👺

user i don’t know if i want to choke him or have him choke ME

➥ yninstagram how about me choking you

➥ user omg i’m down for a threesome 😳

➥ yninstagram choking you to death :)

➥ user i don’t wanna play this game anymore

landonorris • september 18th • singapore ⚑

liked by yninstagram, mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 950,706 others

landonorris whatttaaaaa weekend ❤

view comments

yninstagram GODDAMN

carlossainzjr vamossss landito ❤️💪🏼🏆

➥ landonorris ayyyy 🧡🥳🥳

➥ yninstagram my boysssss 🥰

yninstagram that’s my boyfriend 🤤

➥ landonorris last photo is just for you 😋

yninstagram so proud of you baby, i’m running out of room to put all these trophies <3

➥ landonorris v happy to be your trophy husband

user i’m in love with this singapore haircut 🤤 thank you for not fucking it up lando 😅

➥ yninstagram mmm yes, i’m thrilled it’s still long on the top 😍 it gives me something to tug on

user surprised y/n allowed him to post that last one

➥ yninstagram he doesn’t need my permission, but i get to see him naked so i rdc

user quadrant helmet it so beautiful! i want it to stay 😭

➥ user i want him to fuck me with it on

➥ yninstagram out of pocket…but completely valid honestly—delete your account 😊

liked by landonorris

yninstagram carlando 1-2 makes up for the war i’m fighting in these comments

mclaren • novemeber 8th

liked by landonorris, f1, yninstagram, and 97,293 others

mclaren pulling up fresh with @ landonorris

view comments

yninstagram not pictured: @ landonorris pulling up to OUR flat

➥ user y/n said “he’s coming home with meeeee”

f1 does he come with the jacket👀

➥ yninstagram no, but the price of me folding you like a lawn chair is included in shipping & handling

➥ f1 i’ll go sit down 😅

➥ user she’s fighting the f1 main??? this is mentally-ill behavior y/n!!!

yninstagram mclaren admin go stand in a corner and stare at the wall

➥ mclaren they made me post this!!! i would NEVER risk upsetting you ma’am 🙇🏼‍♀️

➥ yninstagram no talking from the timeout corner 🫵🏽

user we don’t care about the jacket. which organ do i have to sell to buy an hour with him?

➥ yninstagram both kidneys

➥ user but you need at least one kidney to live?

➥ yninstagram how,,,unfortunate

user model!lando always glowssssss

➥ yninstagram it’s the 9 step skincare routine i have him on, you can follow steps 1-8 on his ig

➥ user what’s step 9?

➥ yninstagram kissing me 🤭

lando.jpg • novemeber 13th • with my wife ⚑

liked by yninstagram, carlossainzjr, mclaren, team_quadrant, and 976,234 others

lando.jpg lucky to have found you so early in my life. you're my best birthday gift.

tagged yninstagram

view comments

yninstagram posting my side boob on the jpg account? forgiven since you called me your wife 🥺

➥ lando.jpg thought i’d start practicing your future title, mrs. norris

➥ yninstagram come back to bed. you can start practicing giving me your kids too.

user i want y/n to bury my head in between her boobs

➥ lando.jpg no. i sleep there also—you’re blocked 🤗

danielricciardo as long as i’m the godfather, i can forget i’ve ever read this 🤮

➥carlossainzjr get in line mate, i’ve called being baby norris’ godfather ages ago

➥maxverstappen wait your turn mates, clearly i am the correct choice for godfather

➥maxfewtrell ah, i believe you lads have forgotten my existence

➥yninstagram baby norris doesn’t exist yet, no need to fight to the death rn 🙄

➥lando.jpg i’ll convince the mrs to have four, for my racing number and so you each have a godchild 😅

user y/n may have won the war, but i’ve won the battle—bisexuals have been fed today!!!

➥user girl, i’m straight and i’ve zoomed in on the last photo an unhealthy amount of times

➥user i diagnose you with y/n-sexuality it’s incredibly common in humans

liked by lando.jpg

oscarpiastri you two are made for each other 😀

➥lando.jpg this sounds like an insult 🙂

➥yninstagram i thought kids under 13 weren’t allowed on ig

➥oscarpiastri you’re not even a year older than me @ yninstagram

mclaren mama y papa

➥ yninstagram still on timeout.

➥ mclaren :(

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz

© httpsserene2023

[tkwrites]

It might be a tad depraved of me. But would you consider writing a blurb or something of Sarah reacting to Quinn shaving his playoff beard? Poor girl wasn't warned that her last time being pleasured and stimulated by it was her last. Huggy bear betta make it up to her 😉 (if you are willing to do a blurb, you don't have to actually include the smut even though you have a gift at writing that girl! I just think it could be a fun little scene of her seeing him clean shaven, maybe even a cute domestic vibe idk, this ask is too long 😂)

Also ohhh not long until you post Nicos next part and I am very excited 😝

Hi my Lovely, inspiration struck for your ask in the middle of the night about a week ago, and I've been finessing it ever since. I hope you enjoy what I came up with!

Photo from Pinterest

Blurb (664 words) below the cut. Allusions to smut, but nothing is described.

“Oh,” Sarah said when Quinn walked out of the bathroom. 

“What?” he asked, a hand going to his cheek. He didn’t think he’d cut himself.

“I just…I didn’t realize you were shaving.” 

“Was I not supposed to?”

A blush rose high on her cheeks. “No,” she said hesitantly, as if she was saying it because it was something he wanted to hear. 

“What?” Quinn asked. He saw right through her acting. The more he got to know Sarah, the more he realized what a terrible liar she was. 

“I just think you look really handsome with a beard,” she said. 

“I thought you didn’t like the facial hair.”

“I don’t like stubble. That hurts, but once it’s grown out, I like it.” 

“I can grow it out again.” 

“I know. I’d just kind of hoped you’d keep it until you moved home.”

“Why?” 

“It feels nice.” 

“It feels nice?” he repeated. “What are you talking about?” 

Sarah sighed, deciding she needed to just come out and say it. She’d talked herself into this corner. “Your beard feels nice…when you go down on me,” she confessed, feeling a flush flair down her neck and onto her chest. 

“It does, does it?”'

Biting her lip, she nodded. 

Moving closer, he slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her body flush to his own. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t think I would have to. Isn’t it tradition to keep the beard until the final? I thought you’d have it until you went back to Michigan.” 

He winced, reminding himself Sarah just started watching hockey and didn’t know the traditions like most people he knew did. “That’s only if you’re playing in the final,” he explained, “most guys shave once they’re eliminated or after they’ve won.”

“Oh.” Great. Now, after dancing around it for the last 36 hours, she’d brought up the loss. “Shit, Quinn, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

He shook his head, “how would you know?” 

“Still, I’m sorry.”

He needed to change the subject. Brushing his smooth cheek against hers, he brought his mouth close to her ear and asked, “so you don’t think I’ll be as good now that I’ve shaved?” 

“I don’t…” she coughed. “I didn’t say that.” 

“But it’s what you were thinking, right?” His other hand snuck under one of her straps. 

“No.” Her heart was racing with the nearness of him. 

“Do I need to prove you wrong?”

Her voice squeaked, “no?” 

“You don’t sound too sure about that.” 

She made a small noise that sounded like a halted whine.

His mouth drifted to her pulse point, kissing and sucking the tender skin. 

“Quinn,” she breathed. 

“Hmm?” Sarah so rarely got this flustered, Quinn reveled in riling her up like this.

Desire pooled between her legs - hot and heavy. She needed him. Now.

They had to take advantage of the time they had now. His family was finally gone, though his mom would be back soon. He’d be having surgery in two days, then heading home four days after that.

"Prove me wrong.” 

He smiled against her skin and gathered a fistful of her skirt. She was wearing that damned green dress again, and he was finally going to strip it off her. Or maybe he’d push it up and eat her out just like that. 

He liked the mental image of that — of her writhing on the bed, skirt shoved up around her hips, hands tangled in his hair as he buried his face between her thighs. 

Yes, that was exactly what he was going to do. Then he’d strip it off her and make love to her as many times as his body would allow.

“On the bed," he said, nodding toward it.

She backed up until the backs of her thighs hit the mattress, then reached for the hem of her dress. 

“Leave it on,” he said, voice gruff. “I’ll take care of it.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

[gisellecnz]

Cherished moments.

(≧∇≦)/ Sypnosis. This is after your wedding with satoru. Your honeymoon together.

•Contents. Pure fluff, just fluff, reader is fem, gojo crying cuz your too pretty, cuddles

•note. I'm kinda new to writing + I'm new to tumbler, and english isn't my first language. So I'm sorry if my writing is kinda off, p.s if someone made a similar fic, please don't misunderstand. That might be just a coincidence, the moment I saw that picture of gojo (the one I used above this post) that inspired me to write a fic about it. Also, credits to the owner of the drawing! I just saw it on Pinterest and I don't know who the artist is.

It is now 11:48pm, it has been a long day and is probably one of your best days of your life. You are now married with the man of your dreams, the one and only Satoru Gojo.

6 hours ago was your wedding, the moment you started walking down the aisle, Satoru was in tears. You were also in tears, but Satoru was more emotional. You found it cute how his eyes were red and puffy after, you wiped his tears as you brushed your thumb over his wet lashes. You've done this before but now it felt so much more different- you've felt alot of butterflies in your stomach as satoru opens those eyes of his which you've adored a lot since you were in highschool. They were so pretty, they were as blue as the ocean.

You also couldn't believe you now have Satoru's surname. You are now called as Mrs. Gojo.

In Satoru's pov, he couldn't hold back his tears from seeing you. You were so beautiful, he thinks you were the most prettiest woman that has ever stepped into earth. His heart raced with anticipation, the way your pretty smile was illuminating the room, and how your veil was delicately flowing over your face like a cascade of dreams. The way your gown trailed behind you, your eyes sparkled with so much love and joy as you looked at him. He swore that if he was stuck in a time loop in this situation, he wouldnt get tired from it.

After you and Satoru exchanged your vows and said your "I dos", your friends: Shoko, geto, yuuji, Megumi, Tsumiki, nobara gathered for a group photo. Along side with that there's a seperate photo of you and Satoru kissing from the wedding. They are now framed, sitting on the lamp table beside you.

Right now, you are lying down on a hotel bed. Satoru made sure to book in a very luxurious hotel for your honeymoon. (It's also canon that he's rich rich)

You were very tired. Today was so much fun, you exchanged your clothes to a more comfortable one, which is why you are wearing satoru's shirt right now. It also has his scent in it which is why you always preffered to sleep in his clothes.

And there, your love of your life came out from the bathroom. He just took a shower, his fluffy white snowy hair is now wet. AND DAMN his towel was wrapped around his waist, his abs were showing. You've seen it a lot of times already but you just couldn't get used to it. Your face was now pink.

Satoru laughed at your actions, you were so cute. He dried his hair and changed into his clothes, he got into the bed and snuggled beside you.

"Tired, hm?"

Satoru layed down his head to your chest, he loves lying down there, he loves hearing your heart beats and the way your breasts were squishing his cheeks.

"Mmn, yeah."

You chuckled as you gave a kiss to his forehead, your fingers combing through his fluffy hair.

He looks at you with pleading eyes, looking like he wants something from you.

"More kisses- please?"

You gave a kiss to his cheek and his lips. "Gosh, so clingy as ever."

You said as you chuckled and smiled at Satoru. But suddenly you gasped as he rolls you over, making you the one on top of him now, laying down on his chest.

He gives you that cheeky smile, "I love you so much y/n, I literally couldn't hold in my tears back from seeing you in that wedding dress. "

You were about to say something but he cuts you off by kissing you in the lips. And starts saying one of the most sweetest things to you.

"The most-" a kiss on your forehead. "Gorgeous-" a kiss on your nose. "Prettiest-" a kiss on your lips again. "Sweetest-" a kiss on your left cheek. "Girl I've ever met. " a kiss in your right cheek.

His actions made you tear up, hes so sweet. But he wasn't expecting you to react like that.

"Hey, why're y' cryin? Don't cry." He frowns as he pulls you closer to him and gives you one last kiss to your forehead. You chuckle and tell him that's it's okay.

You both finally fell asleep, embracing each other. You will cherish this day forever.

note: I'm sorry if this is short and it's rushed plus again I'm sleepy and it's like 3:14 am, I'm gonna sleep now cuz I'm finally finished 🥰

[tzuyusluv]

❥ Super Board

genre → fluff

pairing → skz x reader

warnings → secret relationships

word count → 0.7k

summary → this request right here <3

Chan

“Chan! Chan!” The man in question groans when he heard Seungmin’s voice calling out for him. His buff arms pull you even closer to him allowing him to bury his face in your neck. “No one’s home.” Chan’s voice can barely be heard in your neck. The studio door opens and you can hear Seungmin gasp. Looking up at him, his eyes and mouth open wide. “I knew it! I told the others but they didn’t believe me! I was right!” Chan watches as Seungmin practically sprints out of the room yelling for the others. “I should’ve locked the door.”

Minho

Han’s eyebrows creased even further when he noticed Minho phone case. It had changed from the cats to being clear with a photo in the back. “Hey Minho, could I borrow your phone for a minute? I need to text Chan.” Minho didn’t think twice about it before handing Jisung his phone. Waiting until Minho went back to talking to Changbin, and when he finally did, Han flipped over his phone to see a cute photo of you and Minho in a photobooth giving each other a small peck. Han’s eyebrow’s went upwards at the discovery. Once he handed back Minho’s phone, he decided to say something. “So Minho, minding explaining why you and you’re ‘best friend’ are kissing each other in that photo?”

Changbin

He didn’t think the boys would notice the new lock screen. Not when they were practicing their new choreography. Going to fill up his water bottle on their break, he didn’t expect to come back too the others staring at him. After a small staring contest between all of them, Chan eventually broke the silence. “So….who’s the cutie on your lock screen?”

Hyunjin

“Whatcha doing hyung?” The maknae walks into the art room. “Just painting.” Hyunjin refuses to take his attention off of the art, knowing that there was a high probability he would make a mistake and everything for you had to be perfect. “What are you painting?” Hyunjin freezes, you had only been dating about two months and none of the boys knew. “Just a picture I saw on pinterest.” He mumbles. “Really? Because I think that looks oddly familiar to my friend.” Hyunjin knows he screwed now.

Han

“Han, it’s about three now, are you coming with us?” Changbin says while yawning. “Not yet. I just got hit with some more inspiration. I’ll meet you guys back at the dorms.” Changbin frowns but agrees. “Alright, goodnight.” “Goodnight.” Changbin shuts the door and Han can hear his footsteps leave. Han isn’t sure when he fell asleep but he wakes up to Changbin shaking his shoulder. “What’s up hyung, what do you need?” Han isn’t able to say the sentence without a yawn. “Just reading your rap and curious as to who the person you wrote about is.” That wakes Han up. “I didn’t write that rap about anyone.” Changbin just gives him a look that shows he didn’t believe him. “Yeah? Is that name just a random one? It didn’t come from anyone?”

Felix

“Who’s that next to your sister?” Minho whispers to Felix. “Hmm?” Felix looks over at his band mate ‘confused’. “The person next to your sisters, I haven’t seen them before but it seems like your sisters are close.” Minho watches as Felix stays silent with no explanation as to who you were to him. “They’re just a friend…” Even Felix cringes at the hesitation in his voice. Minho lifts up an eyebrow at that. “A friend or a friend?” Felix once again hesitates, letting Minho know the answer. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell the others.”

Seungmin

“Can we go into this shop?” Felix looks confused but nonetheless agrees. “What are you looking for? Anything specific?” Seungmin just nods his head no. His eyes then lock onto a puppy plushie. He walks over to it and grabs it before walking back to the checkout, Felix struggling to catch up. As they’re waiting in line, Felix asks if it was for someone special, expecting Seungmin to give him a side eye, but he didn’t expect Seungmin to blush and have no words to defend himself with.

Jeongin

Hyunjin scoffed when he was the one to go fetch the maknae who had, once again, slept in past the practice time. Unlocking the door, grumbling as he makes it to the bedroom, he freezes when he sees two bodies on Jeongin’s bed. Creeping closer, he realizes that it’s you, the person who Jeongin adamantly says is just a friend. Hyunjin scoffs at that. Yeah, a friend who cuddles with their other friends and who look at each other with heart eyes constantly.

©️tzuyuluvs | Pease don’t translate, rewrite or blatantly steal any of my content.

[avatar-anna]

Nothing Left to Lose

saw this photo on pinterest and got inspired! happy weekend, y'all!

Masterlist

*.*

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Don't—Don't ask me that. Please."

"Why?"

Harry sighed and rubbed a tired hand over his face, wincing when his fingertips came back with blood on them. "Because we promised not to lie to each other, and I don't want to give you an answer you won't like."

"Damn it, Harry!"

Y/n looked like she wanted to hit something, probably him, but he was too far out of reach. Angry tears lined her eyes as she took an anxious drag from the cigarette that dangled between her fingers, but Harry knew better than to go to her. She was pissed, and he needed to let her seethe properly before comforting her.

"I'm sorry—"

"You're not because you keep doing it!" A tear slipped from Y/n's eye, but she quickly wiped it away. "I told you I didn't want any part of this life. You said—You said you wouldn't do this anymore."

"This isn't something you just send your two weeks notice into, Y/n. I can't just say, 'I quit.'"

"Don't try to explain that bullshit to me, Harry!"

That was a wrong choice of words. Sighing, Harry took a chance and stepped closer to Y/n. "I'm trying, Y/n, really. I know it doesn't sound like it, but I am. I just don't...I don't know how to safely get out of this."

"Then let's run away," Y/n said, grabbing onto his hands desperately, neither of them minding the smoke curling between them. Harry's knuckles were split and bruised, dried blood caked around them, though most of it wasn't his, yet she held onto them anyway. Y/n had never been one to shy away from a little blood. "We can go somewhere, anywhere. The world is such a big place Harry. His network doesn't stretch that far. We can—We can forget all of this."

"It's not that easy—"

"He's using you!" she cried. "He's using you to get to me, you have to know that, Harry."

Harry held her face in his hands as he rested his forehead against hers. He knew nothing about the life they shared was easy. From the moment he stumbled into the bar she worked at, battered and bruised and reeking of trouble, he knew. Y/n had known right away that he was one of her father's men, even if the easily recognizable tattoo that curled around his shoulder and up his neck was covered thanks to the hoodie he wore. What she didn't know was that he'd been purposely tasked with keeping an eye on her, a direct order from her father. That little secret came out months after they met, after Harry realized he was falling for Y/n and that he couldn't hide it anymore.

This wasn't what he expected out of life. He'd fallen into the wrong crowd long before he ever should've, and it spiraled into a life he knew he shouldn't have been proud of. But the money was good and if he kept his head down he didn't get into any serious trouble. There were a couple nights where guilt kept him from sleeping, or when he lied awake in a safehouse because someone else fucked up and he had to disappear for a few days. Maybe his line of work wasn't something to be proud of, but he grew up believing he wouldn't amount to anything, and this life, the one he built for himself, was his and his alone.

All that changed when he met Y/n, though.

He'd never met her prior to the job her father had tasked him with. His boss' daughter was elusive at best, but it was well-known that they were estranged. But Y/n's father still considered her his greatest pride and joy, hence sending Harry to keep an eye on her to make sure she was safe. He'd taken the job, mostly because he couldn't really say no to his boss, but also because he thought it would be easy enough, stress free.

Falling in love was never the objective, yet here he was, and it killed him to see his love cry.

"I know," Harry said quietly, maybe even sounding a little defeated.

"I want a life with you, H," Y/n pleaded, resting her hands over his. "I want a long life with you without my father's shadow hanging over our heads. This...this isn't living. We're hiding."

"I know," he said again. "I know, you're right."

"I love you," Y/n said. "So much, H. That's why it freaks me out when you leave and come back like this. I...I hate what he does. He ruins people, Harry."

Part of him believed it was impossible to get out from under her father's thumb, and part of him was scared of leaving everything he'd ever known behind to start over somewhere new. But for Y/n, he was willing to try. A future with her was worth running into unknown territory.

Harry tried for a smile and kissed Y/n's forehead. "If it makes you feel better, I had a terrible night."

"Mm...Maybe a little," she said, a small smile creeping onto her face.

"Is persuading you to kiss it all away off the table?"

Y/n's smile softened into something more somber. "Promise me we'll run away."

Harry looked into Y/n's eyes, saw all the hurt that the cuts and bruises and blood he came home covered in affected her. He wasn't just looking out for himself anymore, Y/n was a part of his life he wasn't willing to give up. She was a non-negotiable, and making her happy had to be his top priority.

"We'll run away," he promised. "Wherever you wanna go, baby. Just you and me."

"Really?" she asked, as if she actually thought Harry wouldn't agree.

"Name a time and place, and we'll go," he said. "I love you, Y/n. I'm in this with you. All of that bullshit means nothing when I have you."

Y/n exhaled, and Harry could practically see a weight lift from her shoulders. Leaning in, she kissed him once, pulling back and giggling a little as she rubbed a thumb gently over the cut on his lip. Pressing one kiss to his cheek, she took his hand and led him down the hall to the bedroom they shared.

"Let's see about getting those cuts cleaned up."

"I've actually got one that needs really special attention—"

"Shut up, Styles!"

Harry just grinned as he took the cigarette from Y/n's offering hand and put it in his mouth, happy to hear the laughter in Y/n's voice. There was light for them at this long, winding tunnel. He believed in it, he wanted it enough to believe in it. Harry had never tried to leave this life behind because it was all he'd ever known, there was no reason to try to build a life outside of the crimes he committed. Y/n should've felt that way too, but she didn't. She wanted more for herself, and for him now too. Harry was willing to give up everything, to risk everything, to make sure he was happy, that he was able to give her the life that she wanted.

And if slipping between the fingers of the most powerful man in the city was what she wanted, then he'd find a way to make it happen.

[ivysturnss]

Transition -Sturniolo Triplets

Summary:Where the triplets come back home and have some news waiting for them.

Warnings: FLUFF!!! Usual swearing , mentions of surgery , crying ,questioning ur gender and I think that's it.

Pairing: older bro!triplets x ftm!reader

A/N: reader is 17 in this and I'm sorry if its bad I thought of this on the spot

Nick Matt Chris MaryLou You

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

You was currently sat up on the kitchen counter with my mom infront of u calming u down whilst small tears run down ur cheeks "What if they don't accept me!" "Buddy look at me please" you wipe ur nose with a tissue your mom had given u a few minutes prior then drifting ur eyes to look at her. "Are you listening to yourself right now , one of your brothers is gay and they accepted him ur not any different sweetie!" "I am though , nick hasn't changed he just likes boys but ive changed completely I haven't seen them in 9 months and the last time they saw me I was their little sister with long curly hair and braces." you say slightly raising ur voice and tears were now flowing heavily.

It was true the last time u had seen ur triplet brothers u had curly brown hair what hung just past ur chest , braces with pink bands , nails did but very short what u was forced to have done by ur best friend. None of ur friends and family knew at the time but just before ur brothers had came 9 and a half months ago u was questioning ur gender , long nights spent scrolling through tiktok and Pinterest looking at hairstyles for boys , male clothing just anything "boyish" in general and that's when it dawned on you. Im trans! You took inspiration from matts anxiety journal to make your own journal but instead of it being for anxiety you named it "Transition Journal". Any spare time you had you would write down ur thoughts , ways to tell ur family, name ideas and in the end it was full to the brim. It was a mix of a scrapbook and a diary it had photos cut out of outfits and where to buy the clothes and accessories from written next to it aswell as haircuts cut out so when u came out and got ur hair done you could show the barber what u wanted.

"No one else in the family views u any different so I highly doubt they will but if they dont they are getting the next flight back to la and never coming back in this house!" This makes you let out a little laugh and smile "That's not very nice you can't just kick them out like that" " I suppose that is a bit mean but whatever it takes to have u happy!" "Thanks , I'm so tired after all this crying so I'm going to get out of this and take a nap but can u text me when they are here and where they are in the house?" "Of course I can I'll also tell them not to go in your room have a good nap!"

3 hours and 15 minutes later

Your pov:

I wake up from my nap and automatically hear shouting and laughter downstairs so without even checking my phone I know my brothers are home , I sit up against my headboard and grab my phone and reply to a few of my friends who messaged me before checking my moms message.

Mom

-Hey buddy , we are all sat in the living room but we are watching a film so they are distracted so if you want a drink you will be able to get to the kitchen if you move quick enough.

You

-Alright I'll come down now please keep them distracted

read

I put my socks back on and fix my hair a bit before grabbing my phone and putting it in my pocket then quietly making my way to the stairs. I get halfway down and look to my side to see them all engrossed on the tv so I make a run for it running down the stairs and into the kitchen. I open the fridge and take out one of my Arizonas and slowly walking into the living room. When I reach the couch i sit down beside Chris casually taking a sip of my drink placing it on the small wooden table next to his pepsi. "There you are how was ur nap flo?" he asks still not taking his eyes of the tv but hearing him call u your dead name just felt weird the last time u was called it was a few months ago by a substitute in school but that wouldn't happen anymore as u had just graduated. I didn't answer him as technically he was speaking to no one and this makes him look at me , his head hadn't even turned half way before he quickly stands up Infront of me "What the fuck are u standing up for!" All i do was stare back at him as my body just froze there was two ways this could go he could either hug me and support me or could shout at me and leave and i wasn't sure what was happening. Matt and nick look over at me and do the exact same thing as chris and stand either side of him and because none of them where speaking i decide to.

End of ur pov

"I um.. I transitioned" your voice came out quietly but loud enough for everyone to hear. Your parents thought it was best for u to have this moment alone so they got up and walked into the kitchen shutting the door behind them. "We can see that, when did this happen" he asks in a soft tone but still in shock. It was pretty obvious to those around u that you wasn't a girl anymore u had short hair, a light stubble , you looked more masculine and u was currently wearing black and blue plaid pj bottoms with a vintage tee u had thrifted a few days ago. "Before u came the last time I was questioning it and I made a entire notebook full of things I still have it if u wanna see but anyway I told mom and dad like a month or 2 after u left and it just went from there I guess." "And why did u not tell us sooner?" "Well I wanted to tell u guys in person so that's why I waited till u came back and that's what I'm doing now". The 3 just nod and sit on the floor infront of u "Do you have a name like a name u want to be called from now on?" Matt asks putting on of his hands on ur knee comfortingly "Yeah I do actually , it's Finn but mom and dad call me buddy aswell!" "Good choice bud I like that name". "Do you think you'd ever get surgery?" "Well we looked into it and I'm at the right age as u have to be 16 and I'm 17 but we want to wait a bit before I do as we just wanna go day by day and not jump into it all at once y'know!". Matt looks over at nick and nick just nods knowing what he was going to say "Finn I don't wanna sound rude but who do u like?" "What do u mean who do I like?" "What's ur sexuality like I'm straight so is Chris and Justin but nicks gay so what are u?". I take a deep breath knowing this question was coming and try to hold back the tears but that doesn't happen. Nick is fast to move and sits beside u pulling u into a hug. "You don't have to tell us right now if u don't want to we can wait." "Mhm we will wait as long as u want us to wait" "No ill tell u" you sit back up but take nicks hand and he rubs his thumb against the back of ur hand. "As you now know I'm trans so ur probably thinking I like girls but I don't I still like boys". "Thank you for sharing this with us we are proud of you" "Just so you know we love you even more" "I love you guys aswell" "Guys do you know what this calls for?" "If I'm thinking what ur thinking I'm totally down" "Celebratory McDonald's?" "DUHHH". Nick and Chris run off to the car whilst matt stays back with you. "How about u get that notebook of urs and we can look at it whilst having our McDonald's." You nod and run up stairs to get the notebook whilst matt goes to the car.

35 minutes later

You was all sat in the McDonald's parking lot finishing up ur food and going through ur notebook. "Whys there a photo of my head? Chris questions pointing at the photo "It's because this is one of haircut pages and I liked ur hair back then so I was going to get it but I didn't in the end." "I think you would suit it you should definitely try it one time". "Hold on this is a very important question." "What is it?" "Do u watch RuPaul?" "I love that shit I watch it all the time" "MATT DRIVE US HOME RIGHT NOW ME AND FINN A STAYING UP ALL NIGHT AND BINGE WATCHING RUPAUL START THAT ENGINE!" the car erupts into laughter as matt starts the car to drive you guys home.

@6ix9inewiturmom @nicksbf @thenickgirl @soontosturniolo @delilahsturniolo @dirtylittleheart333 @pvssychicken @nicksbestie @talulahinthestars @nicksgirlfriend @schlutt4matty @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @zariyam @little-bisexual-intern @toysizee @sturniolowh-0-re @sturnobsessedwh0re @vanteguccir @mattthemunchsbiggestfan @delimeats-000 @sturnfannn @slutforsturnioloss @evie-sturns

[modern-gremlin]

HALEY x PENNY (Movie Poster Concept)

Inspired by @lily-alphonse's Haley x Penny Rarepair Idea! "Are you sure this is right? I feel like I look like Granny Evelyn on a bad back day..." Penny protests, her back contorting into shape. "No... like chest out, neck up..." Haley directs, looking through the viewfinder, "Good... chin a little higher." Penny sighs and adjusts herself according to instructions, still apprehensive but she's trusted Haley implicitly this far. Why stop now? She thinks to herself. The sun was quickly dipping below the horizon – Haley knew she needed to take the shot fast. That was the beauty of photography; capturing a fleeting moment, a split-second that'll never happen again. The sunlight crests over the ocean, casting a bright beam onto Penny's face, golden light filtering through the copper strands. With a deft flick of her finger, the shutter sounds. "Yes! That's it... hang on. Let me see..." Haley looks into the small screen of her camera, flipping through her shots and suddenly, it's like a shutter sounds in her ears and she's frozen in place. For a moment there's silence – not like the ones that have become a comfortable norm over the past few weeks. She simply had no words to say. "Well... how did it turn out?" Penny asks, fiddling with the hem of her dress, "Did I do well?" She looks at the blond, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Haley blinks a few times, trying to shake the flush away from her face but it stays. Swallowing thickly, she musters the only two words can conjure, "... You're perfect."

Read Lily's posts for rarepairs bc they're great. I saw a reference photo on Pinterest that felt so Penny coded but if Penny got a makeover. Then, what do I find?! Lily has written a rarepair idea for it. I imagine would be the part of the movie where Penny gets a makeover from Haley and Haley takes her to the beach to take a few shots. Penny's shy at first, asking for reassurance while Haley directs the shot. The idea is to post it on social media to celebrate her newfound look, but as Haley looks at it, she knows she's in too deep.

Ramble below the cut!

holy hell okay finally, here's the piece that's been wracking my brain. here's a why it was a struggle: I've been trying to find a way of combining my digital painting style to my drawing style. it's been breaking me out of my comfort zone and it hurts!!! but, I like how it turned out. Perhaps I'll do a Haley one next bc I love her sm.

[mvltixcc]

Girls Like Girls - Robin Buckley X Cheerleader!Reader

Summary: Robin has a crush on the new girl in town. Y/N is also a new member of the cheer squad, which means Robin sees her all the time at games and other school events. Unfortunately, Robin is put in a tough situation. She's scared to talk to her because the cheerleaders have a reputation of being mean girls and she fears that Y/N may not feel the same. Little does Robin know that Y/N does not appear as she seems. Y/N becomes best friends with Eddie, which seems unlikely at the surface due to different social circles. This leads to rumors of course and word spreads like wildfire here at Hawkins, which then makes Robin's feelings even more confusing. After hanging out with Steve and the gang, Robin starts to see a different side to Y/N. Will they end up together or will they just remain friends?

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: When I mention 'Sam' in my story, I'm talking about the girl in this photo. She was never in the story of the show but I wanted to add another girl to the group and this photo helped capture what I needed.

Pinterest board for inspiration

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Chapter 7

“Nancy, no offense, but you are no help. None of these look good on me.” Robin stated as she stood in front of the large mirror trying on dresses. She lost track of how many she tried on. None of them stood out to her and she didn’t feel like herself in them. 

“Well maybe we just need to keep looking?” Nancy suggested. Robin stood there fidgeting in the fabric and making a sour face. Nancy could tell something wasn’t right. Luckily she knew how to fix it. “You know what, why don’t you change back into your clothes and then meet me back here.” Nancy said. Robin sighed in relief and went back to change. Nancy left Robin and walked to the front counter. “Hi excuse me, is there any chance I can use your phone please?” Nancy asked the employee. She nods and hands Nancy the phone. 

“Steve?”

“Yes?”

“Hey it’s Nancy, are you busy?”

“What are you doing here?” Robin asked as she saw Steve standing next to Nancy.

“Nancy here thought you may need some help finding the right outfit for prom and a dress just won’t cut it, so that’s where I come in. I’m gonna take you shopping to help you find what suits you.” Steve said with a smile. 

“I am relinquishing my duties and passing them off to Steve.” Nancy said with a chuckle.

“Let’s get this show on the road, Buckley!” Steve said, clapping walking toward the exit.

“I’m coming dingus!” Robin laughed and followed behind. 

The two sat in the car on the way to the next shop. “So if you’re not taking me dress shopping, then where are you taking me?” Robin questioned.

“You’ll see Buckley, be patient.” Steve said as he continued to drive to the destination. 

“I don’t see why I can’t just go with Y/N, she is my date after all and I care about looking nice for her.” Robin said, rolling her eyes.

“You think I won’t find something that makes you look nice? Do you know who you’re talking to?” Steve asked jokingly. 

“You know what I mean, you’re a guy. How exactly can you help me with this?” Robin continued. 

“Robin, I know you better than most people do. Why do you think Nancy called me in the first place? You are not a dress kind of girl, you and I both know that. But, we can find something else that works for you and what you’re comfortable with.” Steve said. 

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” Robin said.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I was what?” Steve joked.

“Alright Harrington don’t push it.” Robin laughed and gave her friend a light shove.

“Okay okay, we’re here anyways.” He laughed and pulled into a parking space. Robin looked up at the sign with a puzzled look. “What? What’s the matter?” Steve asked.

“Why are we at the Men’s Factory? I thought we were looking for clothes, not tools.” Robin questioned. 

“Are you serious?” Steve said. “Robin, this isn’t- dear god help me.” He sighed.

“What?” Robin asked.

The pair got out of the car and walked into the store, Robin was soon hit with the realization that it was in fact NOT a home improvement store. It was a store full of all different kinds of suits. Steve and Robin walked around hoping something would jump out to her. But so far nothing.

“What about this one?” Steve asked, holding up a brown suit. 

“Oh god no.” Robin said, making a sour face. 

They continued to walk around, going from suit to suit. Trying things on left and right, until they found THE one. It was a nice white button up, a black tie with a black vest, and dress pants to match. 

“This is it. This is the one.” Robin said as she stood in front of the mirror. She loved how she not only looked, but how she felt as well. She felt like herself and that’s what matters the most. 

As she checked out she couldn’t help but think about you. She hoped you were having a good time shopping for the right dress.

“Can you all stop running around and sit the hell down!” Sam yelled at the rest of the guys as they ran around the store trying to help you find the right dress. 

“This is not it.” You said walking out in a bright yellow gown. “I look like a banana!” 

“I think you look like a lovely banana!” Gareth said as he stood next to you in the mirror. 

“Well of course you’d say that, you picked this one out in the first place!” You chuckled to him. You turned around and saw a few of the boys holding up more colorful dresses. “Why do you people want me to look like a fruit salad?” 

“You people clearly don’t know her at all.” Sam stated walking over to the rest of you. “Stop trying to put her in bright colors, you all should know that Y/N doesn’t like that kind of stuff!” Sam proclaimed. 

The group continued to look around to find you a dress. Nothing stood out to you. You got changed and walked out to the rest of your friends. “Let’s just go to the next store and be done.” You were getting frustrated that you couldn’t find anything. You had already tried 2 other shops and you were getting tired. The group had agreed and you all climbed into Eddie’s van and went to the next store. 

“So where are we off to now?” Eddie asked you quietly to not let the others hear. He knew that if they did they would suggest another dress shop. 

“Can we just go to the thrift store? I really don't need anything fancy, that’s not even my type of style.” You replied.

“Trust me I know that.” He chuckled. “We’ll find you something, don't worry.” He reassured you. 

“What are we doing here?” Jeff asked as you guys pulled up to the thrift shop. 

“Guys I really don’t need a ball gown or anything fancy. I just wanna look and feel nice while having a good time with my girlfriend.” You said walking into the store. They agreed to help you find something that was more ‘you’. 

You all walked around and found random items like necklaces and bracelets. But no dress yet. Until you heard Sam screech. “THIS IS IT!” 

She ran to you and huffed and puffed as she showed you the dress. You took the item and went to try it on. You stood in front of the mirror and you knew as soon as you put it on that it was the one. You walked out of the changing room to show everyone the dress.

“It’s perfect!” Sam exclaimed.

Most of the boys stood in awe.

“You look beautiful.” Eddie said, walking up to you. He looked at you tearfully. 

“Thanks, Eds.” You turned to hug him. “Everything is gonna be perfect.” You were now even more excited to go to the prom with Robin.

You finished getting ready and made your way downstairs as you waited for Robin to arrive for pictures. You were nervous to say the least, you just wanted everything to be perfect for the pair of you. 

“You look beautiful Y/N!” Your nana stated as she stood in front of you. She pulled you in for a hug.

“Thank you Nan!” You said, hugging her back. 

“Alright let’s get some pictures with you and Eddie!” She suggested. You nodded and made your way outside, Eddie following behind shortly after. 

As you and Eddie had finished taking pictures, Steve pulled into the driveway. Robin jumped out before he could even fully park the car. “God Buckley, would you be careful?” Steve said sarcastically. 

Robin didn’t care though. She was too excited to see just how beautiful you looked and boy was she right. You looked breathtaking. “Wow.” was all she managed to spew out. Robin stood there in awe as you had approached her. 

“Hi buttercup! Well look at you, you look absolutely perfect!” You said as you pulled your girlfriend in for a hug. You pulled away from the hug soon after. “Is that for me?” You ask as you point to the box in Robin’s hands.

“What? Oh uh yeah, this is for you!” Robin said with excitement. It was a corsage that matched your dress. Robin had been asking all week what your dress looked like, she was too eager and wanted to know everything. Knowing that she would ask until your ears fell off, you gave in and told her about the color of your dress. 

“It’s beautiful Robin!” You exclaimed. “Wanna help me put it on?” You asked. She nodded and took it out of the box and helped you put it on your wrist.

“It’s not too tight is it? Or too big? I wasn’t sure-” Robin began to ramble.

“It’s perfect!” You said giving her a soft peck on the cheek. You could see her cheeks turning red which caused you to chuckle. “I have something for you too!” You turned to Eddie who was standing behind you with a box similar to the one that Robin had and took it from him. You opened it to reveal a matching boutonniere. You helped Robin put it on. “There, now we match!” You said with excitement. 

“You guys look great!” Steve complimented as he approached the pair of you. “Wait, why are you all dressed up?” He asked, pointing to Eddie. 

“Oh please this is hardly even dressed up!” Eddie proclaimed. He wore a simple black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and some dark jeans. He also paired it with some boots and his usual jewelry.

“It’s dressed up for you!” You chuckled.

“That still doesn’t answer the question though.” Steve said.

“Eddie’s also going, I thought you-” Steve interrupted you.

“Well how come he gets to go and I don't?!” Steve pouted. 

“Maybe because I’m still a student there?” Eddie laughed. “Plus I’m not even going in, I’m gonna be sitting in my van making sure nothing happens to them.” 

“Why don’t you come with Steve? I’m sure Eddie could use the company.” Robin suggested.

“Oh I don’t think-” Both Eddie and Steve said in unison.

“That’s a great idea!” You proclaimed. 

“Alright alright, let’s get these pictures taken so you kids can be on your way!” Your nana said as she held the camera up. 

You and Robin took your pictures and soon you all loaded into Eddie’s van and made your way to the school.

“If anything happens you just get Sam and she’ll come get me, okay?” Eddie said going over the plan again. 

“Yes yes I got it! Okay we’re going in now.” You said, you were eager to get in and have a good time with your girlfriend. “Just promise me you wont kill each other?” You asked before closing the van door. 

“Yeah yeah we promise.” The two said in unison once again. 

“Okay, let's do this!” You say, closing the van door and taking Robin’s hand as you walked toward the doors. The two of you stood at the doors for a moment, preparing for the night ahead of you. “You ready my love?” You asked, looking at Robin. 

“As I’ll ever be.” She replied nervously. She wanted this night to be special for you both.

You opened the doors and walked into the gym. It was magical. All the lights and beautiful decorations that lined the room really brought it all together. You made your way over to Sam and her date who was grabbing some punch. 

“Hey guys!” You greeted your friend. 

“Wow you two look amazing!” Sam complemented you both. 

“Thanks, you guys look great too!” Robin thanked.

“We’ll be keeping a close eye on you guys throughout the night. Now go out there and have a good time with each other!” Sam spoke. 

You said your goodbyes and you both made your way to the dance floor.

Everything was going great. You and Robin were dancing and singing your heart out. You both had danced with some friends as well. The both of you were now at a table eating snacks and just talking about the night so far. As you were talking with one another, a slow song started to play. You both make your way to the dance floor to have a special moment. There you are in the middle of the gym, holding one another and just enjoying each other. This night was perfect. Or so you thought.

“Well look at you two, how adorable!” Chrissy said as she approached the two of you. 

“Can’t you leave us alone for one night Cunningham?” You asked in annoyance. 

“I come in peace I promise!�� She stated with her hands up.

“Uh huh, I’m sure you do.” Robin said also now annoyed at this point. 

“Honest I swear! Look I know that things aren’t so great between us, but I just wanted to offer your spot back to you on the team!” Chrissy began as she turned to look at you.

Chrissy continued to go on and on about some random bullshit as she does when suddenly Robin felt something wet fall onto her hand. She looked down to see a droplet of red. Robin looked above and saw what appeared to be a bucket with some rope tied around it on the rafters above you both. She turned to the left to see the other cheer squad members laughing with one another holding onto the rope that was attached to the bucket. She turned to you to get your attention. 

“We have to go, like now!” Robin whispered in your ear. 

You looked at her and could see that she was serious. You nodded to her. “Well you know Chrissy, this little chit chat was fun and all, but I think we’re gonna head out now. You and Jason go have a fun time now!” You say trying to get away from her.

Chrissy tried to get you both to stay and talk with her, but despite her efforts you both weren’t budging and kept walking away. This made her extremely mad and her demeanor changed. “Ugh god get back here NOW!” She yelled at you. 

As you turned around to face her, you saw red liquid falling from the ceiling. Robin pulled you out of the way as it came down. It all fell directly onto Chrissy. “What in the Carrie?” You said to yourself as you watched the scene in front of you. The gym fell silent at this point. A few other people were hit with whatever was in the bucket, but it was mostly all over Chrissy. The realization had hit her like a truck and she began to scream off the top of her lungs. You both made your way out of the gym and booked it for Eddie’s van. 

“No no no Lord of the Rings is so much better than that!” Eddie proclaimed. 

“God you are such a nerd!” Steve laughed. Suddenly the van door swung open. “Whoa whoa what happened? Are you both okay?” Steve asked as you and Robin jumped into the van and slammed the door shut. You were both out of breath from running. 

“Well considering the fact that we almost got Carrie’d!” Robin exclaimed while trying to catch her breath. 

“Huh?” Steve questioned. 

“My god Harrington do you seriously not watch movies?” Eddie teased.

“Okay we can pick on Steve about that later!” You stated trying to get to the point. 

“Hey!” Steve proclaimed. 

“Chrissy tried to pour a bucket of-” You began.

“Pigs blood?!?” Eddie squealed.

“No! Now let me finish you goose!” You laughed. “It looked like I don’t know-” 

“Red paint!” Robin stated. 

“How do you know?” Steve asked, turning back to the both of you as Eddie drove you all back to your place. 

“The way it stained my hand is the same way that paint does. Can’t imagine what she’s gonna look like after this.” Robin said. 

“What I wanna know is how the hell did you guys not get hit with that?” Eddie asked.

“Robin was the one that got me out of there.” You said.

“I felt something wet on my hand and saw the red. Then I looked up and saw the bucket that the cheerleaders were tugging at with a rope across the gym.” Robin replied. 

“That was some quick thinking there Buckley, nice job.” Eddie said, giving Robin props. 

“Thanks Eddie.” She said with a smile.

“Now as for you!” You said poking Steve. “I can’t believe you haven’t seen Carrie!” 

“I keep telling him he needs to watch it!” Robin chuckled.

“Okay you know what!” Steve stated.

 “Thanks for the ride Ed’s, drive safe now okay?” You said as you stood at the driver side window of the van.

“Hey, I’m here anytime and I will try my best.” He laughed.

“Edward!” You yelled.

“Okay okay, I’ll drive safe! You go and get some sleep.” Eddie said. You said your goodbyes and Eddie drove off. You made your way over to Robin to say goodbye to her as well.

“Well despite everything that just happened, I had a really good time with you tonight. I’m really glad that we went.” You giggled.

“Yeah me too, it was a really special night that I definitely will never forget!” She laughed back.

Robin pulled you close and wrapped her arms around you. “Though, to be fair every moment with you is special because I get to spend it with my beautiful girlfriend.” Robin spoke softly. You began to turn a bright shade of pink. “Aww is someone blushing?” She teased, you put your head into her neck to hide the flustered expression on your face. 

You pulled away and looked at her for a moment. “I love you so much.” You professed. 

“I love you too, my sweet angel.” She said, smiling back at you. 

Robin pulled you in one more time, but this time it was to give you a kiss. Every time you would kiss each other, it was instant sparks. She loved how soft your lips were against hers. Robin pulled you closer to deepen the kiss. She didn’t want this night to end, but that thought was soon interrupted by Steve coughing loudly indicating that it was time to go.

You pulled away from one another shortly after. “Well, I guess I’ll see you on Sunday for our usual breakfast date.” Robin said as she gently kissed your cheek. 

“I’ll pick you up at the usual time!” You giggled. 

“You sleep well, okay love bug?” Robin suggested. 

“I will, you better sleep well too!” You replied.

“I promise, scouts honor!” Robin said, holding up her hand. 

“I’ll see you Sunday you goose.” You chuckled and said your goodbyes.

Once Steve left, you went inside and decompressed from the night you just had. As you lay in bed thinking about how perfect the night was, you began to drift off into a peaceful sleep.

Next chapter

[deoidesign]

Hello, I believe that I used one of your old artworks that I saw in a screenshot on pinterest as inspiration for a school music project. I was hoping to get permission to use it as a base for an short animation for the same class. Below I've put the artwork I'm talking about. If you're against me using it in my animation I completely understand as well, just let me know. Also, if I've located the wrong person please let me know. I've put the photo down below.

yeah that's me, go ahead

If you're using it heavily just credit me somewhere and you're all good!

Thanks for asking!

here's the 2 versions of the image I can still upload to make things easier for you, the original gets removed because the original post got nuked (the whole OP blog did, it wasnt cause of me at all) but it's just the same drawing cropped down to a square

[solarpunkani]

okay so pardon me as I wax poetic late at night about solarpunk again but like

and once again, I'm biased because I'm co-hosting the aesthetic week event, you know the drill, but

I feel like sharing our projects--big and small--are so important because they can inspire other people to do their own. And obviously this can be about sharing news about climate action, and scientific projects and progress and discoveries, but tonight I'm thinking about crocheting.

As we think about the future we want to create as solarpunks, we trade ideas. And oftentimes a lot of the ideas we trade are about futures with barter systems, where many many people do crafts like sewing and mending and knitting and the like. But--and I could easily be the only one but I feel like I'm not--I personally was too nervous to start many crafts myself. Because I didn't know what I'd do with the craft, if I was even capable of it, or if it was too big and complex for me. I'd been tossing around the idea of learning how to crochet for years, and my mom's been tossing the idea around just as long if not even longer for herself, but y'know what brought me over? You know what finally got me to give it a shot?

An online Solarpunk friend sharing pictures of a bag.

I saw that bag and I went 'huh maybe I could do something like that,' and within a few days I'd bought a bunch of yarns and hooks and was on a call (with a different online friend) learning how to do some basic stitches and knots to get started. By the end of the night, I was teaching myself how to make granny squares, with the help of a (different) online friend writing instructions to help me out as I got stuck.

And maybe I finish my bag, or my scarf, and I post a picture online--not even a professional, pinterest-ready photo, just a quick pic of it laid across my bed or something--and I inspire someone else to start crocheting. Hell, I've already inspired my mom to take a crack at it once the Christmas season is over.

But it doesn't even have to be me. It doesn't even have to be crocheting. Maybe someone posts a picture of a hat they just finished knitting, and someone else decides to pick up a loom or some knitting needles. Maybe someone crafts a birdhouse or a desk or a bench out of wood, and someone picks up a hammer for the first time. Maybe someone crafts something awesome out of clay and wire, and someone gets inspired for a new project. It can even be across artforms! Maybe someone sews an awesome dress, and someone else is inspired to write a short story by it. Maybe someone writes a short story, and someone else goes to paint a mural somewhere inspired by a scene in that story.

And in a sense I find it incredibly solarpunk. To inspire one another to learn and grow, develop new skills, to always find inspiration and hope to keep trying new stuff.

Some people laugh and scoff at the idea of posting ~aesthetique~ homemade clothes to the solarpunk tag, a handful think the whole aesthetic week event is pointless, but I find it the opposite. Solarpunk is about revolution, but it can't always be big revolutions. Sometimes its the small revolution of picking up a craft that changes your life, or creating an image that inspires others to fight for a better future. It can be about writing something that makes others question why things are the way they are, when they can be better. Sometimes the desire for a nice knit scarf can be the start of a mini barter system, or become part of the mutual aid we all dream of.

I feel like I had a point with this but I forgot. But uhm... yeah.

[simplydannie]

Where are the twins really from? And what else lies underneath Mount Rageous?

My friend @jules0511 had the awesome idea of it being like Coruscant of Star Wars. And that’s exactly where i was going with this idea!

I got inspired when i saw the concept art of Floyd of fhe lower less glammy parts of Rageous seen on slide 4. This is where the twins were normally going to be from.

The lower parts of Ragoues have a “cyber dystopian” vibe to it while the upoer part is totally different. The only one to know about the lower parts of Rageous and the twins backstory is Floyd. The other Trolls have no clue whats going on under the glitz and glam.

Ragoues is ruled by an unfair group of individuals who rule according to class. Unfortunately, the lower parts of Rageous dont recieve much aid if any.

(Some of the photos i found on Pinterest to help imagine the vibe i am aiming for, for the lower parts of Rageous)

[gaybananabread]

Hey! Could I get a ATSV fic, with lee!miguel, and ler!peter b, with a side of cherries? Could I also get a receipt? (/j)

Fruit(s): Cherries

Oooooh these two! Tired “old” men club time! I’m gonna be entirely honest, a pic on Pinterest inspired this entire thing. Got an idea and abselutely ran with it aghshrara… YEAh I’m not running off much sleep but eh. Sorry for any characterization goofs; my brain is fighting existence. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Miguel

Lers: Peter B. Parker, brief Mayday

Summary: Peter brings Mayday to the base for the twenty-millionth time, letting her wander around Miguel’s office. Turns out the beefcake is her favorite thing to climb on. When the young spider girl reminds him of one of Miguel’s quirks, Peter makes sure the grumpy old man has a laugh. 

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

If there was one thing Peter did that got on Miguel’s nerves, it was when he let his kid wander everywhere like she owned the place. He had already made sure it was fine for him to bring the toddler around, but the solemn man never could’ve predicted just how often that would be. As in, he never saw the middle-aged spider without a baby carrier strapped to his chest.

Besides the obvious safety hazards, it tugged at Miguel’s heart strings to see the little girl running around. She was so happy, so care-free, so full of life… He couldn’t help but reminisce. For anyone who doesn’t know Miguel, let me explain: when he reminisced, he was a grumpy, angsty bastard.

That day was one of many where Peter brought Mayday to the base, the red-headed toddler zipping and twipping around Miguel’s office. The boisterous father greeted Miguel, a wide smile on his face as he showed Miguel many repetitive pictures of the kid that was literally two feet away from him. Still, he managed to bite his tongue, only looking down at the phone with an unamused frown.

“Oh, oh, you’ve gotta see this one; she’s so focused! I knew she’d love those- uh… Miguel, c’mon. You look like I’m holding you at gunpoint to watch paint dry.” 

Peter lowered the phone, his hand moving to rest on his hip as he viewed Miguel’s tired face. He just scoffed, giving Peter a look that said “I’m so done with you” to the max. “Peter, the kid is right there. I don’t need the digital scrapbook experience.”

Mayday chose that moment to swing over to the two men, landing on Miguel’s shoulder and swinging her tiny feet. His heart both filled and squeezed at the sweet action. 

Rolling his eyes, Peter put his phone completely away. Scrapbook… He’d have to remember that one, even if it was just sarcasm. 

“I’m not asking you to jump for joy at every photo. Just crack a smile or two, ya grump!” He tried poking Miguel’s side, only to get his wrist snatched and a deathly glare shot at him. Peter quickly retracted his hand, holding both up in surrender. Mayday giggled at the silly exchange, her beanie sliding as she wiggled about.

The toddler used her powers to stick to Miguel, crawling across him because she could; toddler logic doesn’t need to make sense. She was just having fun! The tot shivered, the cool air of the office sending goosebumps across her skin. Mayday grabbed onto his side, snuggling into the warm crook of his arm.

Miguel huffed when he felt the small girl on his side, trying not to smile as he grabbed for her. She whined, using her powers to stay stuck on him. Not wanting to hurt Mayday, he sighed and turned back to Peter. He motioned towards his side, a restrained look on his face. “Little help here?”

Peter chuckled, seeing his daughter snuggle up to Miguel. “Nah, you seem all good. She’s just snuggling with you, what’s up?”

He glared at his friend, though there wasn’t much he could say. There was no way he was gonna admit that her small hands were tickling him; Peter would never let him live it down. He scowled, instead choosing the “be an asshole” route. “I don’t want your kid climbing on me. You have a baby carrier for a reason; use it.”

Seriously? Peter rolled his eyes, looking at his daughter. She seemed so peaceful, all cozy against Miguel’s side; he felt bad moving her. Still, he had to respect Miguel’s wishes, even if they were cruel. “Fine, fine! Don’t get your fangs in a twist…” 

Walking over to the grumpy spider-man, Peter reached out to grab his daughter. She whined, clinging tighter to Miguel’s side and nuzzling her fuzzy head against his ribs. 

A short huff escaped the stoic man, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. He squirmed, finally grabbing onto the small child and trying to tug her off. “Maldita sea- Peter, grab her!” 

“Hey, language!” His voice sounded…giddy? What was…oh. Mayday was tickling him. She was grabbing his side and brushing his ribs. “Awwww, Miggy! Is little Mayday-”

“Don’t.” Miguel gave Peter the fiercest glare he could manage, though it was put off by the ghost of a smile on his lips. There was no way in hell Peter was gonna back off after that. 

Shooting forwards, Peter grabbed Miguel’s arrm, shooting a web up and restraining it. The big man would’ve thrashed and reversed their positions, but he didn’t want to risk hurting Mayday; he was pretty much screwed.

Peter wasted no time; if Miguel gained his footing, Peter was so done for. The man grabbed Miguel’s side, spidering his fingers against Miguel’s stomach. The man bit his lip, trying both to keep Mayday secure and hold in his giggles at the same time. 

“P-Peter, I swehear- GYAH!” Miguel jolted as he felt a squeeze to his hip, almost dropping his hold on Mayday. Peter smirked, leaning forwards and continuing to mess with Miguel’s hips. “Oh, sorry Miguel. Did that tickle~?”

That little… Peter was so dead when he got out of that. Much to his dismay, he could feel a red hue burning on his cheeks as he laughed. “PEHETER! IHI’M GONNA- MIERDA!” Trying to keep a steady hold on Mauday while having his hips squeezed was a lot harder than he thought it would be…

“Miguel, c’mon. There’s a kid right here, watch your mouth.” Peter was only half-faking his exasperation. True, he was kinda being a jerk, but Mayday didn’t need to learn how to cuss in any more languages.

Mayday giggled, feeling Miguel’s chest shake as he laughed. She was used to her dad being silly, but Miguel? Never, ever had she heard him laugh like that. Wanting to join in on the fun, she copied her dad, squeezing and scribbling on his ribs.

While there was barely any pressure, her tiny hands still tickled. Miguel jerked, losing his grip on the girl in surprise. Mayday wasn’t even phased; she just hung on with her powers, Mayday giggled at his squirming, thoroughly enjoying herself in the silliness.

Peter kept watch of his daughter in the corner of his eye, making sure she wouldn’t fall. Miguel probably wouldn’t kill him. It was all in good fun, and he neecded a laugh anyway. Sure, his revenge would be…interesting, but it was worth it.

“Wow, look how red you are! I thought Miles was resident tomato face, but looks like you’re givin’ him a run for his money~” Peter continued to tease his friend, knowing his comments would get to the man. It was too easy to tease Miguel like this; later was what most people worried about. Peter had no fears, though; Miguel wouldn’t kill him…probably.

“SHUHUT UHUP!” Miguel twisted and tugged at the webs, nearly breaking through them. He could only take so much of the other man’s silliness. “PEHEHETER! GEHET OHOFF MEHEHE!”

While he could tell Miguel was getting sick of him, Peter wasn’t quite ready to stop. The blush on Miguel’s face was quite endearing, only egging the father on. True, he couldn’t control it, but eh. “I think I just got a new favorite color! Miguel’s-blush red~” 

The angsty spider growled through his laughter, already plotting his revenge in his head. Mayday laughed, deciding she’d played around enough for one day. The girl climbed off of Miguel, using her small webshooter to sit on a ledge and watch the goofy old men interact.

The moment Mayday was safely off him, Miguel turned the tables. He yanked his wrist free from the webbing, grabbing Peter and pinning him to the wall. It was almost scary how fast that man could recover… Peter went to make a joke, though it died in his throat. “Hey, at least…buy me…ehe. Uh, truce?” He gulped, looking at Miguel’s smirk and determined eyes. Eugh boi… Still blushing, though.

“Es hora de morir, Peter~” Before Peter could protest any further, Miguel dug his claws into the man’s stomach, squeezing and scratching the squishy flesh. Peter shrieked, not at all prepared for his due penance.

Mayday watched as they messed around, giggling and tilting her head. She had grabbed her dad’s discarded robe, snuggling up into it and getting warm. Those two would likely be at it for a while, and she was more than happy to watch the two laugh. Silly boys…

[tkwrites]

Love sometimes means fulfilling fantasies - Matthew Tkachuk x ofc

Photos from Pinterest

Title: Love sometimes means fulfilling fantasies

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Matthew Tkachuk x Original female character 

Warnings: smut (18+ only), oral (m and f receiving), face sitting, unprotected sex (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), lots of teasing, mentions of a past, bad semi-controlling relationship.

Summary: When Matthew admits he wants to be bossed around by his girlfriend, she decides to surprise him after a long stint away from home.

Word count: 8500 

Comments: This was inspired by a very intense dream I had a while ago. It’s been in my drafts for more than 2 months as I’ve tried to get it right - trying to find the right balance between smut and story. I originally started this with Quinn and Sarah in mind, but almost instantly realized this wasn't their story. 

I think Matthew is adorable, and thought he would be a perfect fit for it. I thought about this post a lot while I was writing it. 

This is so long and way more smutty than anything I’ve ever posted for others to read. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Love sometimes means fulfilling fantasies

The moment he walked in the house, his eyes were drawn to the bedroom light filtering across the kitchen. Sophie had tried to stay up for him. She did this occasionally, and every time, he would find her in bed, asleep with her glasses still on and a book open on her chest. 

Smiling at the prospect, he set down his bag and shed the raincoat he hadn't bothered to take off in the car. 

“Bedroom. Now.” 

He nearly jumped out of his skin when her voice came from somewhere behind him. 

He turned to find her, but she rebuked him before he saw anything. "I didn't say you could look, Matthew." 

His body responded immediately. Fuck, that's hot. 

More than a month before, she had asked if he had any fantasies he wanted to explore. He admitted that he wanted to be… not dominated - he didn't want to be tied down or anything - but he wanted to be ordered around. The image of Sophie, assertive and demanding, taking pleasure from his body was the subject of many of his dreams. 

It had been so long since that conversation, he'd nearly forgotten about his hushed, “I think about you bossing me around all the time.” 

"Bedroom. Now," she repeated. 

He rushed to get there, leaving his things strewn on the mudroom floor. 

Upon arriving home, he had leaned into his fatigue, prepared to fall into bed, tucking his desire away until morning. This was a totally different welcome than the one he'd been expecting. Adrenaline coursed into his veins banishing the fatigue all together. 

The click of heels followed him through the house, a kind of suspenseful music that ticked to the beat of his heart. 

She was even wearing heels? She never wore heels at home. 

“I hope you're getting undressed,” she said in a sing-songy voice when he got to the bedroom. 

He jumped to obey.  

“Leave your pants on, though.”

He had to redo the zipper, not an easy task with his erection testing the limits of his boxers. He told himself it would be worth it as he re-buttoned his pants. 

The buttons on his shirt nearly popped off in his desperation to get out of it as he toed off his shoes. He didn't like to be barefoot nearly ever, but it was an ick of hers for him to be in bed with only socks on, so he removed them before tossing everything into the closet. 

“Very good,” she said, appearing in the doorway, wearing a dark red robe and black heels with complicated looking straps around her ankles. 

Rooted to the spot and unable to look away, Matthew devoured each deliberate, slow movement as she stalked closer to him. Lace winked at him from between the lapels of her robe. It made him ravenous to see what exactly was under all that silk. 

He started to salivate as his mind caught on to the reality that he would only need to pull the sash at her waist and she would be nearly naked. He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on her.

“Tell me, Matthew, did you expect this?”

He shook his head. He could hardly believe it was even happening. She even had her hair down and curled. 

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, ma'am.” 

She wrinkled her nose, breaking character. A relieved smile spread over his face. He knew this was a character, but having it confirmed that his sweet, funny Sophie was still in there put him more at ease. 

“Not ma'am,” she said, “that makes me sound old. Miss?” she mused, “that's not much better.”

“Mistress,” he supplied. 

She cut her eyes at him, “is that what you call me when you dream about this?”

“N-no,” he stammered.

“What do you call me then?” she asked, placing her hand on his bare chest. 

Gulping, he barely bit back a moan at the skin to skin contact.  

“What do you call me when you dream about being bossed around, Matthew?” she repeated, voice quiet and seductive in his ear as she moved even closer. The silk of her robe brushed against his arm. 

“Sophie,” he said. This time, his voice was a moan. 

His confession hit her full force. He wasn't just interested in being bossed around - he was interested in being bossed around by her. She expected this fantasy to be farther from reality.

“Let's try this again,” she said, mostly for herself. “Matthew, do you like what I'm wearing?”

“Yes.”  

“Yes?” 

“Yes, Sophie.” 

“Good,” she praised, trailing her hand around his rib cage. “Kiss me.”

He pounced like a starved man, catching her mouth in a kiss that was all at once passionate and consuming. 

When his hand ran up the smooth fabric covering her back, he felt it through his whole body.

Taking control, she coaxed his tongue into her mouth and sucked. He was instantly transported back to the first time she'd done this same thing after their second date. His legs still turned to putty. It felt so good every time. She tugged on his hair and he let out noise he never made with anyone else. 

This was a side of Sophie he'd never seen at home. 

It often came out in other places when decisions needed to be made. She always had a quiet confidence about her, but when a crisis happened, or no one was stepping up to make decisions, she, as she called it, “put on her boss pants and got shit done."

The first time she'd done it, they'd been on vacation with some friends and missed their boat back to the hotel. He'd been embarrassingly turned on by the way she had taken control, calming everyone down and ordering him to call the hotel concierge so they could get some directions. After that, he doubled his efforts, trying to convince her to give him a chance as more than a friend. 

Now that the bossy side of her was finally directed at him in their bedroom, he couldn't get enough. 

She broke away and kissed her way up to his ear. “Am I doing okay?” she asked softly.  

Okay? She practically had him on his knees. It was so unfair for this to come right after a road trip. He was already starving for her, and now she was teasing.  

“Yes,” he panted.

She took a step back from him, “Do you want to see what I have on underneath?”

He nodded, seconds away from actually dropping to his knees to beg for her. It had been seven long days since he'd had her, and this situation had him ready to do whatever he needed to to please her. 

“Go ahead,” she said, letting her arms fall open to give him free access.

His hands lept to the tie, which fell away easily. His eyes widened as he pushed the silk off her shoulders and it pooled at her elbows.

“Do you like it?” she asked, letting the silk flutter onto the floor. 

She wore a black lace bra that made her boobs look incredible with, it looked like, matching cheeky panties, just like she knew he liked. 

Saliva pooled under his tongue. Oh God. He was fucked. 

"Matthew, do you like it?" she asked again, throwing in a twirl for good measure. 

Catching his first glimpse of her ass, the lace riding half way up her cheeks, his knees nearly buckled. She was so damn sexy. 

His over eager nod had him feeling like some kind of cartoon character - too fast and exaggerated. 

The whole time she had been devising this plan, Sophie had imagined his reaction to this lingerie. She knew he would like it. Looking at him now, with his blown pupils and fingers flexing at his sides, she found she wanted to tease him just a little bit more. 

Turning her back to him, she bent down to unlatch her right shoe. 

His groan was the stuff dreams were made of.

His hand caressed over her left hip, and she batted it away. 

“I didn't give you permission to touch,” she said, standing straight as she turned around, only one of the three right straps undone. 

A desperate sound escaped his throat, and he forced himself to ask, “can I please touch you, Sophie?” 

Tapping an index finger on her lips, she pretended to think. “I'm not sure you've earned that, yet.” 

The shock that covered his face was almost instantly replaced by competitive determination. “What do I need to do?” he asked, his voice sounding like it'd been raked over hot coals. 

“Let's see if you can keep your hands to yourself for at least one shoe, yeah?” 

Matthew hated and loved this idea with every fiber of his being. Sophie didn't usually tease. Now that she was, he found he only wanted more.

Once he agreed, she turned around again - because of course she did - and bent over, showcasing the natural flexibility every woman in his family was envious of. She was going to kill him. Or slowly drive him insane. Or perhaps both. 

Matthew shoved his hands in his pockets and fisted them to keep them from developing a mind of their own. 

With the fiddly straps undone, she decided it was enough. His breathing was getting more and more ragged, which had her so turned on, she could feel her desire soaking her little lace panties. 

Raising to a flat back position, she glanced over her shoulder. “Are you going to ask again?” 

He swallowed visibly, “can I please touch you?” 

“Yes.” 

He pulled his hands out of his pockets and she watched his fingers flex and contract as if they'd been fisted so tightly, he needed to bring blood back into them. 

He reached for her. 

“But-” he stopped immediately, letting out a little whine. “You can't take anything off.” 

Nodding quickly, he agreed. He just needed his hands on her.

She bent over again, and his hands caressed her soft hips. 

“Fuck, Sophie.” After all that, touching her felt like it's own reward. 

With the other buckles undone she stood, making sure to toss her hair back into his face when she did. 

He grunted, pulling her against him so she could feel what she was doing to him. 

"What do you want?" she asked, one hand slipping around the back of his neck as she kicked off her shoes. 

With the heels gone, Matthew reveled in having his normal sized girlfriend back. "I want whatever you want to give me."

Turning in his embrace, one of her eyebrows rose. "Whatever I want to give you?" she repeated, trailing her fingers from his waistband to his nipple, which she circled delicately. 

Nodding, he made a sort of muffled, whining, affermatory noise. 

"What if I want to give you what you want?"

“That's not…uh, I, uh,”  a jumble of gibberish fell out of his mouth. He was having a hard time focusing enough to form coherent words, still trying to reconcile the Sophie in front of him with the one he'd expected to find. Meanwhile, her finger still circled the sensitive nub, sending so much electricity shooting between his legs, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been this hard in his life. 

Her mouth brushed against his ear before she asked again, "what do you want, Matthew?” Gently taking the lobe between her teeth, she nibbled 

The way she kept saying his name coupled with how she was touching him made his brain short circuit into primitive, caveman thinking. "I want to make you come."

"How?"

This wasn't how this was supposed to go. She was supposed to be telling him what to do, not the other way around. 

Taking a deep breath, he paused to make his thoughts coherent before telling her, "you tell me. You're supposed to be the one ordering me around."

Sophie blushed. She knew he wanted her assertive and bossy, but neither of those were things she could just pull out at the drop of a hat - especially in the bedroom. It was one thing to tease him by dangling what she knew he wanted just out of reach. It was something totally different to order him around like he was some kind of pet. She'd been trying to circumnavigate around her discomfort by ordering him to tell her what he wanted. It was a cop out and she knew it. 

"You promise this is okay?" she asked, letting nerves shake her voice. 

This was fantasy brought to life in a way he'd never expected. Looking into her eyes, he brought her hand to the front of his trousers so she could feel how he strained against the zipper. "More than okay. Tell me what you want me to do." 

Standing straight, she steeled herself and tried not to let her voice warble. "I want your mouth," she said.

There was no shock in his face, only a deepening desire as his eyes grew darker.

Oh. 

This wasn't just for her. 

He wanted it. 

He liked it. 

A force she'd never felt before flowed down her spine, filling her with conviction. Leaning into that newfound power, she added, "and I want to be on top." 

She'd fantasized about it for so long, but had never been brave enough to tell him. 

“Gladly,” he rasped, mind already racing with images and ideas. 

For his part, Matthew wanted to give her any and every experience she wanted, but knew she wouldn't ask for the things she felt were more risqué as part of their normal, everyday life.

He hoped this fantasy of his might kill two birds with one stone.

Unable to look away, his breath locked in his chest as she hooked her thumbs in her panties, easing the sides down. 

"Do you want to -" she stopped herself, before swallowing and starting again. "Matthew?"

“Yeah?” 

"I want you to take off my lingerie."

Getting orders from her was even hotter than he dreamed it would be. He was going to start drooling here if he wasn't careful.

Back to her in a flash, he slid his fingers to the clasp of her bra. Palms skimming over her breasts, he eased the fabric off. "You're so fucking beautiful," he said, letting the lace drop to the ground. 

Glancing into her face, voice gruff, he asked, “can I use my mouth on you here?”

She nodded, letting out a breathy, “yes.”

As his mouth went to her breasts, licking and kissing, his hands swept over her hips so he could take large handfuls of her ass in those damn underwear. 

Her mind began to spin. Not only from his talented mouth, now laving at one of her nipples, but because of her plan. She wanted him in her mouth before they made love. She needed to rethink her strategy to make sure he had enough time to recover.

His hands slowly slid up to her waistband, relishing the texture of the lace contrasted against her smooth, warm skin. 

“Stop,” she ordered before he could push her underwear off.

He pulled his mouth away, but didn't take his hands off of her. 

When she went to his neck, leaving open mouthed, wet kisses, his fingers curled into the flesh of her hips. His head tipped to give her more access.  

Sophie could never spend enough time with her mouth and hands on Matthew. “You smell so good,” she purred, continuing her exploration onto his collar bone. 

The feeling of her mouth on him while her hands slowly slid down his back had him too entranced to respond with more than a grunt. 

She licked the divot between his clavicle and the round swell of his shoulder before cupping his rear to pull him flush to her body.

Fireworks popped and flashed between them as Matthew rocked his hips into her, desperate to soothe his aching lust. He wanted her so much. He’d wanted her when he parked the car, resigned to the fact that he would have to wait until the next morning. Now, she was against him with her beautiful body, wearing the sexiest pair of underwear he’d ever seen. He let his fingers trace the lace pattern at the edge and smiled when she shuddered. 

Her mouth continued its exploration, winding down his chest, pausing to flick her tongue over the nipple she had neglected. 

He moaned, eyes flaring wide when she lowered to her knees in front of him.

“I changed my mind.” 

Looking up, she traced a feather light touch from his belly button to the button of his pants and smiled when his muscles flexed and jumped.

“I'm going to blow you before you use that pretty mouth on me.”

He swore. This was a kind of torturous heaven where she was slowly driving him mad before giving him what he needed. He never wanted her to stop. 

Working the button of his pants, then the zipper torturously slow, she purred, “you're going to come in my mouth, okay, Matthew?”

His breathing hitched, his voice nearly cracking as he agreed, “yes, Sophie.” 

He rarely let her finish him that way. He loved her mouth, but past girlfriends hadn't liked it, so he tended to avoid the issue. Besides, given the choice, he would rather come inside her. He never would have guessed she missed it. 

Peeling his boxer briefs down, Sophie leaned into the alter ego she kept caged within her own thoughts. “Good boy,” she praised. 

 God, hearing that should not make him shiver with anticipation and pleasure as much as it did. He flushed at having pleased her.

As he stepped out of his pants, he wondered if she might let him sit down. It had been so long since he'd come in her mouth, he wasn't totally sure he'd stay upright, especially tonight. Before he could ask, she was running her hands over his legs. 

Sophie tsked. “These thighs,” she all but moaned reverently. Obligingly, the muscles in question flexed under her palms. 

Apparently, she was letting everything she'd ever fantasized about bubble up to the surface as if her propriety had sloughed off along with her lingerie. 

The next thing he knew, she was licking his leg from the knee all the way up to the v line, which she kissed and tongued liberally. 

“Fuck,” he breathed. She'd never worshiped his body like this. He knew she found him attractive, but this was something totally different. It made his stomach clench and his head feel light.

Every brush of her tongue, every kiss from her lips made him twitch. She was so close to where he wanted her. Knowing she wanted him to come in her mouth made it worse until he was simmering and heady with impatience. 

She pulled away so slowly, he swore he could feel every millimeter of her lips lifting from him. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was finally getting her mouth. It melted into a whine when she passed over to begin the same torture on the other leg. He was so close to the pleasure she was promising, but she was holding off. 

“Please Sophie,” he begged. He would do anything to feel her.

“Since you asked so nicely,” she said, smiling up at him through her lashes as she guided him past her lips. 

He had to close his eyes to stop himself from exploding at the sight alone. 

She pulled off nearly as soon as she'd started, “do you like it, Matthew?”

He almost said something snarky, like, I would if I could feel it, but thought better of it. The Sophie in front of him was a different creature than usual, and he didn't want to upset her. He had no doubt she wouldn’t hesitate to punish him for his sass, and he couldn’t take that on top of everything else. 

Instead, he leaned into the shy, genuine part of himself. “Yes, Sophie.” 

Finally, she took him in her mouth, swallowing all she could comfortably fit and using her hand on the rest. 

Sinking his fingers into her hair, he tried to steady himself without leaning too much weight on her. 

“You feel so good.” 

With seven days away and twenty minutes of blissful torture built up in his system, he knew it wouldn’t take much to tip him over the edge. Still, when the tell tale signs rushed in so soon, even he was surprised. He needed to tell her in case she changed her mind.

“Soph, ’m gonna come,” he said urgently.

Her mouth lifted off of him completely. “You’re such a good boy, Matthew,” she purred, slowly skimming her fingertips down his throbbing cock, “giving me what I want.” 

Eyes rolling back, he practically growled. He’d always wanted her to order him around but never imagined her praising him like this. He wanted more and more, again and again.

She wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, and he moaned, thrusting softly into her mouth. 

His orgasm reared anew fast enough to give him whiplash. 

She hummed as she pulled him over the edge and the vibrations rippled through his body, making every muscle stutter. 

When she slid her mouth off him, she paused to make sure he was looking her in the face before she swallowed. 

"Holy shit." He stumbled back and sank onto the bed, legs losing the battle to stay upright. He'd hoped she would be a little more liberated, but this was beyond any of his expectations. "Fuck, Soph, that was so hot." 

Bringing him nearly to his knees with her mouth alone made her feel like she could do anything. It was just the confidence boost she needed. A feeling of immense self satisfaction filled her.

Crawling over to him, she used his knees for balance as she stood.

Matthew wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek against her stomach, needing to feel her close as he came down. 

"I love you," he said, mouth against her skin. It felt important to tell her. Not just because of the blow job - which, God, did he love her for - but because he loved all of her. He loved her for her willingness to fulfill this fantasy. It was so much better than anything he'd imagined. 

"I love you, too." 

She threaded her fingers into his curly hair and his eyes fluttered shut. 

Soaking in the tender moment, he let himself catch his breath before pressing kisses to her stomach. 

“I swear, I thought about eating you out every night I was gone.” 

“Really?" She sounded more surprised than he would like. 

He nodded, tongue darting over his lips as he looked up at her. “I love getting you off and I know you like oral best.”

“I mean…You don't mind the smell?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. 

“Do you really think I would put myself through it so often if I didn't like it?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.  

“I don't know,” she said with a shrug. “I thought maybe it was something you just put up with to get to the good part.”

“It's all the good part with you Soph.”

She chuffed a little laugh. 

“I love the way you taste. I crave it when I've been away too long.”

The way her cheeks flushed made him want to please her even more. 

"Are you ready to sit on my face?" he teased, assuming she found the phrase crass. 

Even while rolling her eyes, she nodded. 

The uncertain feelings that were nearly always stewing in her finally broke to the surface for the first time that night. "We don't have to do it that way."

"No," he reprimanded gently, flexing his grip so she couldn't pull away. "If this is something you want, you deserve to get it. I'm fine with it."

Her teeth worried at her lower lip, "you're sure?"

"Yes," he said fervently. "I want to make you feel good, and if this is how you want it, I want to do it for you."

"I just," she paused to sigh a breath through her nose. "I don't want to suffocate you or something."

He laughed. 

"I'm serious, Matthew."

"It'll be fine, Sophie."

"How do you know?"

"I've done it before, and it was fine." 

She looked unconvinced, and like she was about to argue another point he knew wouldn’t make any difference. He cut in before she could bring it up. "If it'll make you feel better, I can let you know if I can't breathe."

She pursed her lips, barely keeping in her worry about being bigger than any of the women he'd dated before. That would bring on a whole lecture about how it wasn't true, and her weight didn't matter to him - he just wanted her to be happy and healthy.

Most of the time, she was able to put off the comparison and agree with him, but this felt like a case where that factor should be taken into consideration. 

In the end, the thing that kept her quiet were memories of the sad, wounded, puppy look he got in his eyes when she talked disparagingly about her body. 

"It would make me feel better," she said instead. 

"Done." 

Hooking his fingers into her panties, he started easing them down. 

Goosebumps rippled over her skin and her nipples tightened. 

Letting the lace fall the rest of the way down, he licked one of the tender buds into his mouth. He lay back, pulling her with him. Her core was hot and wet against his thigh as she draped over him.

His hands and mouth on her, and his care and willingness to fulfill her fantasies had her outrageously turned on. She rutted against his thigh a few times in an attempt to pacify her lust.

He moaned, flexing the muscle on instinct. She gasped, deciding instantly that getting herself off on his thigh was definitely going onto her fantasy wishlist. 

For now, though, she couldn't be deterred from the opportunity at hand. She moved onto the bed and he scrambled up to lay his head on the pillows. 

He got comfortable before motioning her over. "Here," he said, voice husky, but gentle, "you can hold onto the headboard here."

Heat raced onto her cheeks. 

"Come on," he said, reaching for her. "It's been too long. I can't wait to taste you."

Letting him pull her into position, her heart was already pounding against her ribs as if it might try to break out of her chest. 

Matthew had dreamed of this before - Sophie, all lovely and lush above him while he worshiped her with his mouth. The reality of it was so much better than anything he had imagined. 

"You're so beautiful," he said, running his hands up and down her thighs. 

She blushed, but accepted the compliment, "thank you."

He continued to admire her, waiting until she was ready. 

"You promise you'll tell me if you can't breathe?"

"Yes, I promise," he assured. "I'll tap your hip like this."

She nodded. 

"Now, come here." 

Wrapping his large hands over her hips, he guided her to his mouth. The sound she let out when he made contact was music to his ears. 

It was so much better than she'd anticipated. Perhaps it was just the thrill of a fantasy becoming reality that had her nervous system in overdrive, but something about this - the position, the way his mouth worked on her clit and the way he huffed against her had her synapses snapping. 

As it turned out, she may have been right to worry. Not because of her imagined fear that she was bigger than other women he'd dated, but because Matthew was so competitively intense and wanted to make her come so badly, he would put off breathing until his body demanded oxygen. The reality that he couldn’t just tilt his head to pull in a quick breath hit him full force after a few minutes. 

Although he'd had no intention of using the signal, he tapped her hip twice when his lungs started to burn.

She lifted up, but he stopped her before she got more than an inch away. His tongue kept working, circling her sensitive bud, even as she felt him drag in heavy, deep breaths.

She shuddered as cool air pulled across her heated skin.

Pulling her back down, he latched his mouth back onto her, sucking and stroking. 

"Matthew."

He would never get over the way she moaned his name.

"Matthew, put your tongue inside me." 

Where had that come from? She'd read about it before, but never had any desire to feel it. She got off from clitoral stimulation, so what would that bring to the table? 

With the reality that was Matthew working his magic, and her newfound ability to call the shots, she found she needed his mouth in every way possible. 

He groaned and felt her shudder above him. He was never getting over this. He was never getting over her going after what she wanted. Never getting over experiencing her like this. 

A new wave of pleasure ripped through her when he shifted to accommodate her request. She didn’t think this could get any better. 

Sophie clung to the headboard. "That feels so good," she whined.

He kept thrusting his tongue into her, hands gripping her hips to keep her steady. She filled his senses completely, leaving no room for anything else, and he wouldn't have it any other way.  

"Oh!" she moaned loudly when he adjusted his angle slightly, bringing the straight bridge of his nose against her clit.

Fire whipped up her spine. "Right there! Don't stop, don't stop, please don't stop."

He was never stopping - not until she was satisfied a million times over. 

Head thrown back, she panted in rhythm with his ministrations. He'd never seen anything so beautiful. 

Her thighs trembled around him and he knew she was close. Putting off breathing for a bit longer, he continued urging her up the peak he knew she was so close to cresting. 

Mouth open, she tried to let him know she was coming. Instead, her body took over, letting out a keening noise she'd never heard herself make before. 

Her core fluttered around his tongue and Matthew moaned. He loved this part: the point when he knew he'd won over her body and pushed her over the edge into bliss. 

Forcing her hips up just enough, he sucked in a few deep breaths before wrapping his lips around her clit, flicking it with his tongue.  

Time tilted and her body felt weightless as her high rolled into another. 

“Oh my god.” 

He kept going, and she kept coming. One of her hands abandoned its post balancing on the headboard to fist into his curls. He groaned, just like she knew he would.

The first time he went down on her, he told her she could pull his hair if she wanted. She'd been so surprised at the way he had moaned into her, intensifying his efforts when she had. 

Easing off when pleasure started to bleed into pain, she lifted herself up. He licked his lips and pulled in some heavy breaths. 

Chest heaving, Sophie tried to swing her leg over so she could sit next to him. 

"One more," he moaned, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of her thighs to keep her over him. "Let me give you one more."

He hadn't prepared himself for that to be the last one. There was no way he could be done with this scenario. With her pleasure engulfing every one of his senses, he just couldn't be done. It was too intoxicating. 

"Please," he said as if he might die without it. 

Twist her arm, she couldn't resist. Matthew was the only man Sophie had ever been with who put so much emphasis on her pleasure, let alone enjoyed getting her off. 

As soon as she started lowering her hips back down, he leaned up and licked a thick stripe through her. 

Her legs quivered. "I'm -" she had to pause and take a deep breath, "Matt, I'm sensitive," she said, looking down at him. 

He winked and coaxed her with long, languid strokes of his tongue. Watching her face intently, he made sure he was using just the right amount of pressure to not cause pain. 

Her hips began to move of their own volition, seeking. 

"Oh, God," she breathed, "Matthew."

If he died right then, he thought, he would die a happy man. 

Come on, he urged silently, come for me. 

As if she were reading his mind, she let out a long, low moan, and trembled above him, core pulsing against his mouth.

He feasted on her, drinking in every movement, every sensation. He could never get enough of her pleasure. 

This time, when she went to move off of him, he helped her. 

She sat heavily against the headboard, gulping in air. "Oh my God." Reaching for him without looking, her hand landed on his chest with a gentle smack. "That was amazing.”

Covering her hand with his own, he entwined their fingers before wiping his face with his other hand. 

After catching her breath, she moved to lay beside him. "Seriously," she said, settling on her side, one arm bent under her head as a pillow, "that was…I don't even have words for how good that was." 

He blushed. "I'm glad you liked it." Her praise, bereft of any teasing, had him feeling shy. 

“Liked it?” she repeated, giggling. “That was the most intense high I’ve ever felt. I don't think I’ve ever come that many times in a row.” 

Pride swelled in his chest. He reached for her and pulled her on top of him. Threading his fingers into her hair, he guided her down to a kiss.

She could taste herself on his mouth, which was arousing in a way she always felt shouldn't be.

His big hands explored, leaving fiery trails on her skin. When he cupped her breasts, she arched against him with a groan. The overstimulation had dissipated and was replaced by a steadily increasing hum of pleasure. 

His mouth and hands ignited her desire again. How was it possible to want someone this much? She wanted him in ways she didn’t know she’d ever want a man again. 

"I want you to take me from behind," she said, lips whispering against his. 

Matthew pulled back into the pillow to look at her face. "Are you sure?"

A while after they started sleeping together, he asked her what she liked. "Any position we can be face to face,” she'd said. “Smith only wanted it from behind the last few months. Every time I would initiate, he'd end up flipping me over. It made me feel so, like… unpretty, you know? Like he couldn't even stand to look at me."

It had broken Matthew's heart. How could anyone not want to look at her? He wanted to look at her all the time. 

Because of that, he always made sure to initiate cowgirl, missionary or any other position where they could be face to face. He never wanted her to feel like he didn't want her. 

"Yes," she said, sitting up. "I know you'd never turn me around just to fantasize about someone else."

"Never," he agreed, emphatically. 

She'd never felt like this with a man before - so full to the brim with love and trust. "So, tonight, strictly for the sake pleasure, I want you to fuck me from behind."

This was another thing she never said, opting instead for sex or making love. She always said fucking was too vulgar of a word for what they were doing.

Hearing it from her mouth now woke a primal side of himself he hadn't felt since he was much younger. 

They never fucked, they made love. He didn't miss it, but the prospect of trying something new with her excited him beyond belief. 

“Where do you want me?”

The power humming beneath her skin shifted into a higher gear, giving her the jumpstart to move off of him. 

“On your knees,” she said. 

He obeyed, then watched, entranced, as she got into the position she wanted. On hands and knees, and then lowered to her forearms so her back sloped down. 

Turning her back to him felt so different than it had with Smith. There was nothing compromising about this with Matthew. She wasn’t embarrassed, or worried her face wasn’t pretty enough, or feeling like she was giving something up just to keep him close. 

“Okay,” she said. 

He moved behind her, skimming both hands up her legs and over the curvature of her sides like a priceless piece of art. He wanted to remember every second of this. 

The trust she felt for and from Matthew allowed her to be in her body more. She could feel the bed dip as he moved, feel the sheets brush against her pebbled nipples. Her skin buzzed with anticipation of his touch. She felt safe and giddy. When was the last time she’d ever felt giddy while on her knees? 

“Can you lift your hips a little more?” he asked, voice gentle.

She did and he bit his lip. He rarely fantasized about this. He preferred to see her face when they were together too, but this? This was a teenage wet dream come to life - made better with love, devotion and trust. 

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, stopping himself from running his fingers through her just so he could taste her sweet nectar again.

Sophie’s thoughts raced with possibilities - all the times she’d read about this - knowing Matthew would try anything she wanted at least once. 

“Slide over my clit,” she said.

A moan escaped his throat as he glided through her. He never would have done this on his own. Now, he never wanted to stop.

“How does it feel?” she asked. If she couldn’t see him, she needed him to tell her. 

“So good,” he grunted. “You’re so smooth.” 

She shifted her angle so the head of his cock brushed over her clit with each stroke. 

The fire in her belly raged into an inferno. 

“I need you inside me.”

He was going to die before the night was over. Hearing her say these things, hearing how much she wanted him, like she just couldn’t wait - he’d never wanted to please someone more in his entire life. 

Easing into her, he exhaled deeply, noting the way her back arched to change the angle of penetration. 

“Okay,” she said, gently pushing her hips back to give him permission to move. 

He started slow and soft, which was not at all what she wanted.

After a few slick thrusts, she told him what she did want, “harder.”

He picked up the pace, but it wasn't enough.

“Harder.”

Biting his lip, he increased again. 

She still wanted more. 

“Fuck me harder.” It came out more of a demand than a request. She was too caught up in the moment to feel bad about it.

Shit. 

Fuck. 

Goddamn. 

How was he supposed to just take this and not explode the second those orders came out of her mouth? 

“Matthew, please.”

Her begging shattered the controlled softness he usually restrained himself with. She wanted harder? He'd give her harder.

He snapped his hips to hers.

She cried out, back arching.

The sound of his skin meeting hers, the feeling of the sheets brushing her nipples as she was pitched forward, then pushed herself back, and his panting and grunting behind her made her feel feral in the best way, like she just wanted to swallow him whole. 

She pushed back to meet every thrust and he had to tip his head back. He wanted to wait. He had to.

Her entire body trembled with the need for release.

“Touch me,” she begged. She needed it so much, she felt like she might just set the whole house on fire. 

His left hand slid around her hip to stroke her. 

She moaned. It had never felt like this with Smith. This was… this was… this was a symphony. Every part working together to make something more beautiful than they could alone. 

That rhythm sustained her for a while before she was begging again, “more. Please give me more.” She was so, so close. 

Tenderly, he drummed two fingers on her clit, desperate to send her over the edge. 

Back bowing as pleasure streaked through her body, she shouted, “Fuck, Matthew! Yes!” 

There were a few delicious moments where Sophie was floating between being stretched to her limit and falling apart completely. 

The pressure finally exploded and her muscles locked around him.

Matthew gasped her name, right hand squeezing her hip to keep the tenuous grasp he had on his control. The idea he was clinging to helped him wait as he worked her through her orgasm. 

Joints blissfully liquefied, she collapsed onto her stomach.

Thankful for the break, he sat back on his haunches and took some time to steady himself as she came down. 

“Can you turn over?” he asked once her breathing slowed a bit. “I want to see your face when I come.”

Although she'd asked him to fuck her from behind, he knew she'd want to see him - to know she was the one making him feel this way. 

She was - and he needed her to know. 

Sophie nearly choked out a sob. Matthew, her sweet Matthew. He could be a pest, even to her when he wanted to tease, and especially when competition was involved, whether it be playing some silly game or the incessant need he had to win at everything: cleaning or chopping or the morning race to the bathroom. 

When it really counted, though, he was unfailingly polite and courteous and always looking out for her. 

The sheets briefly clung to her damp skin as she rolled over and looked up at him. His chest expanded and contracted rapidly with every panted breath. His skin was flushed, his curls tight with sweat. He was the most handsome thing she'd ever seen.  

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” she asked, reaching up to cup his face. 

“Everything,” he said, nuzzling his stubbled jaw into her palm. Had he known this was coming, he would have shaved. “You're perfect for me, Sophie.”

She blinked a few times to make the tears she could feel behind her eyes stay there. 

“I love you,” she whispered.

He grinned. “I love you, too.”

When he entered her again, slowly, he didn't close his eyes, though his lids grew heavy. He didn't want to miss a single second of this. 

Sophie let out a little yelp of surprise when he flipped them over. 

“I want to watch you come on my cock,” he said, holding her hips. “That's the only thing I want from tonight.”

While she was supposed to be giving the orders, she was happy to comply with this request, even though she was sore from her previous orgasms. 

She adjusted to get the right angle, and let out a stuttered little moan when he caressed against her g spot. Apparently, the best way to find it was to orgasm five times in a row. 

It wasn’t long before she began to fatigue. They’d been going for so long already, and she wasn’t used to using her muscles in short bursts of energy over and over again like he was. 

Leaning forward, trying to find a comfortable position, she winced as her clit brushed his pelvis. Pain flared, and she backed off, thighs and hips protesting the movement.

“I know, Soph,” he said.

He didn’t know really, but he knew how sensitive he got after an orgasm. If she was feeling anything like that, he definitely needed to make a change. 

Leaning back would probably be the most comfortable position for her. He straightened his knees a little more and guided her to recline against his legs. 

Sophie sighed contentedly, feeling the pain ebb off and pleasure start to thrum through her again. She swayed her hips from side to side, “so good, Matthew.” 

A small thrill zinged through him. He let out a relieved sigh and began rocking into her. 

She moaned and threw her head back, exposing the long column of her throat. It was exactly what he’d wanted.

This was a more gentle high than the one she’d just crested. It built up slowly, making her whole body feel warm and sated. 

By the time her orgasm did come, she was relaxed with the pleasure of it, glad her pelvic muscles did their work on their own. She was too blissed to direct any traffic. 

Matthew moaned when she constricted around him. It was such a stark contrast to the soft feel of them rocking together. That sudden shift sent him over the edge - spilling into her with his hands on her hips and her name on his tongue. 

Sophie slumped against Matthew's legs, gulping air. “Oh my God,” she said. 

“Yeah.”

She knew she should get up to use the bathroom, but was too exhausted to move. 

Finally, it became more uncomfortable to keep the position she was in than it would be to get out of it. 

Matthew's eyes flew open when she lifted up. He caught the wince that flashed across her face and his hands flew to help her. 

“Thanks,” she said, sliding off the edge of the bed with wobbly legs. 

Sophie's hips may as well have been made of jello as she stumbled to the bathroom. She felt stretched in ways she hadn't in a long time. It wasn’t totally unpleasant, but it was new.

When she opened the door, she found Matthew on the other side, looking down at her with concern in his blue eyes. 

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, I'm just a bit sore.” She gave him a cheeky smile and a wink, “we haven't gone that many rounds in a night since Tahiti.” 

He laughed, but felt it was a shame they hadn't done that for more than six months. The season was taking too much of a toll. 

“Do you want to take a bath? That'll help with some of the soreness.”

“I'd like that.”

He handed her the robe she'd been wearing and started the tap on the large tub. 

As it filled, he lifted her onto the counter. “I'm sorry we haven't done that more,” he said. “I've been gone too much.”

“You don't need to apologize, Matthew. You're always present when you're home and I haven't felt neglected.” 

“How are you so understanding?” he asked. 

“I'm in this relationship too. I see how hard you work, and I know you see how hard I work. Plus, I don't need five orgasms a night to feel loved. You know that.” She paused before thoughtfully adding, “I don't think I'd survive.” 

He laughed, feeling, not for the first time, that this was his favorite thing about Sophie. She was beautiful and funny and sweet, but her willingness to understand his life and meet him halfway meant more than all that. 

“I saw you had the day off tomorrow, so I moved my meetings so we could spend the day together. And I just kept thinking I had enough time that I could fulfill your fantasy tonight.”

“I still can't believe you did that.” He said, bending down to rest his forehead on her shoulder, “when you bent over to take off your shoes, I swear I almost came in my pants.” 

“That sound you made was straight out of a porno.”

Straightening to look into her face, one eyebrow raised, he asked, “how would you know?”

“I don't live under a rock,” she teased, shoving his shoulder. 

He laughed, and a moment passed where Sophie admired him. 

“So it was okay?” she asked.

Matthew had to bite his cheek to keep from teasing her about possibly being deaf and blind. “You couldn't tell?”

“I mean, I could but I just wanted to be sure you got everything you wanted.”

He tipped her chin up to meet her gaze, “Soph, you know our sex life wasn't lacking before, right? This was just icing on the cake.” 

The unsure smile she gave him twisted his heart. “Have you been walking around for the past month thinking that I’ve been unsatisfied?” 

“No, not really. I know you like what we have, I just started to worry. Like, do you want me to be more aggressive in the bedroom all the time?” 

“Aggressive?” he repeated, “no. But I wouldn’t mind you telling me what you want more often. Like sliding over your clit? I never would have done that on my own, and we both really liked it.” 

She nodded, “I’m just so…” she took a deep breath. “With Smith, it always seemed I was lacking in something, you know?” 

If Matthew ever met Smith, he was going to punch him right in the face for hurting Sophie the way he did. She hadn’t even been able to end it on her terms. When she’d tried, he announced he was seeing someone else before she could get all the words out.

After they broke up, it took Matthew four months to convince her he was a good enough guy for her to even consider the idea they could be more than friends. 

He shut off the water before turning back to cup her cheeks, “Soph, I love you, and I love what we have. I’m sorry Smith hurt you, but I’m not him.”

“I know that,” she sniffed and slid off the counter.

Gathering her against him, kissing her hair, he murmured, “I love you, Sophie. You know I’ll tell you if I need something. Can you trust that if I don’t things are good?”

Matthew couldn’t be farther from Smith. Sometimes, she wondered how exactly she’d ended up in this relationship with a man that was so perfect for her. 

“Yeah,” she said into his neck. 

“Good.” 

He gently pushed the robe off. His heart still beat a little faster at her exposed skin, despite what they had just been doing. “You ready for that bath?” 

“You’re not coming?” 

“Do you want me to?” 

She nodded.

He scrambled out of his boxers and climbed into the tub before reaching for her so she could sit between his legs. 

Leaning back on him, she sighed contentedly. 

“I love you, Matthew,” she said, one hand raising to thread her fingers into the soft curls at the nape of his neck, “I'm so glad we found each other.” 

Letting the tips of his fingers trace memories on her skin, he recalled all the times he’d touched her. 

“I love you too, Sophie,” he said, wrapping his arms around her to bring her even closer - to shut out the world and everything that had or could hurt her. “You bring so much joy into my life and I don't want to do any part of it without you.” 

Deciding to trust what he said was true, she relaxed into him, letting the warm water soak away her pain until nothing more than a pleasant ache between her thighs remained. 

[littlemisspascal]

Bitter Ends Turn Sweet in Time

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 7k+

Summary: There’s not a single day in a whole year that isn’t bookmarked by a memory of him. And you, you remember all of them.

Rating: T

Warnings: Pokémon au (but not 100% true to canon, just elements + some characters), time skips in non-linear manner, fluff, angst, bittersweet ending, storms, language, Reader and Frankie are same age + grow up together, high school au ish(?), inspired by 500 Days of Summer + Song of Achilles' 'name one hero who was happy' scene + this quote by photographer David Alan Harvey:

"Don't shoot what it looks like. Shoot what it feels like."

- Reader has no official name and no physical traits described in detail. However, she is mentioned to have hair, a career, wear a dress (no description), and eat sandwiches

Author Note: I've been wanting to write a Pokémon au for a long, long, long time and I've also been wanting to write a non-linear fic for a long, long, long time as well so this is the result of both those wants combining forces *awkwardly throws it into the universe* It is what it is.

-- all moodboard photos found on pinterest

-- shinx, luxio, luxray // pikachu photo references

Special thanks to @beecastle for beta reading and encouraging me through my breakdowns 💜

Day 1,695

Luxray’s a silent wall of black and blue fur for your body to brace against as the sky bleeds a deep shade of orange, and you know he knows. Doesn’t even have to use his x-ray vision to confirm what’s etched into every line of your expression. Anguish—when it’s real and unbearable and deeply-rooted—is impossible to hide. Everyone who looks at you will know. 

Everyone except the one pair of brown eyes that’ll never look your way again.

“I’m such an idiot,” you say quietly, and it’s embarrassing how thick the lump of emotion is lodged in your throat. You wipe at your nose with your sleeve. “So damn stupid.”

Luxray lets out a low growl, chiding in nature, as if to say don’t talk shit about yourself. 

“He was never going to stay,” you continue, ignoring the vibration rattling your bones. “But I got my hopes up anyways. What we’ve accomplished these last few weeks together, I thought there was a chance…a slim one, you know? That maybe–maybe we could actually stick together this time.”

And you don’t realize you’re crying until Luxray’s twisting his head to nuzzle against your temple, encouraging you to bury your face into the thick fur along his chest and shoulders. With your eyes squeezed shut, you can almost block out the all-encompassing numbness emanating from the cavity your heart used to reside in.

“He’s gone…” you choke out through sobs, grabbing fistfuls of Luxray’s inky black mane. “And I think it’s permanent this time.”

Day 1

The first day of classes at Uva Academy is a whirlwind of meeting teachers, racing from one floor to the next against the clock, and making sure you never lose track of Shinx in the chaos of it all, but when the last bell finally rings, you feel no sting of regret about coming here. 

You split a sandwich with Shinx underneath a tree in the school courtyard, brain buzzing with the overload of information absorbed throughout the day. Maybe signing up for a full schedule of classes was a bit excessive, but unlike most of your fellow students who have some semblance of a plan for their futures your next steps are plagued with uncertainty. There are so many paths one can take with their Pokémon—the course of a Trainer, a Coordinator, a Professor, a Ranger, the list goes on and on—you don’t know which direction to take.

When you lock eyes with a boy with brown eyes across the yard, there’s nothing special about the moment. No sparks, no forgetting how to breathe. He’s just a boy with a Pikachu on his shoulder and a dimpled grin on his face.

“I saw you in Mr. Jacq’s class,” he says in lieu of a greeting when he draws closer, purple Academy tie loose and crooked around his neck. Recognition stirs in the back of your mind, a flash of dark brown curls towards the back of the room spotted before taking your seat at the front. 

Actually, now that you think about it…

“Weren’t you in Ms. Dendra’s class too?” you wonder, passing the last bite of sandwich to Shinx, his little body wiggling eagerly. “And Ms. Raifort’s…?”

“Yeah, I, uh, I don’t really know what I want to do yet.” He scuffs at the ground with his shoe, grin turning a bit crooked at the corner, strangely endearing in its awkwardness. “I figure life’s short, you know? Why not try as many things as you can when you have the chance?”

“Right,” you agree, finding yourself smiling back. “Nothing wrong with making memories.”

"I'm Frankie, by the way."

“Nice to meet you Frankie,” you say, shaking his hand. It’s warm in your grip, firm and secure, thumb grazing over your knuckles. “Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

And so it starts after that—the counting of days. Days when you see him in class, when he smiles at you, when he does homework with you in the library, when he and Pikachu have a battle against you and Shinx–winner buys lunch. It’s a subconscious quirk you keep to yourself. Even after he’s gone, chasing after legends to the far corners of the earth, you still continue counting days.

Days when he crosses your mind. Days when you leave the door unlocked in case he stops by. Days when you swear you catch a whiff of his citrus shampoo on the pillowcase despite the impossibility of it.

There’s not a single day in a whole year that isn’t bookmarked by a memory of him. And you, you remember all of them.

Day 183

“I want my name in one of these books,” he tells you, Ms. Raifort’s assigned reading on the lost explorers of Area Zero spread out in front of him.

You look up from the text, fatalities and disaster and other sharp words with teeth still swimming in your head. “It won’t be easy.”

You’ve only known him six months—long enough to be certain you’ll never meet anyone else like him, but too short to realize the hidden depths of his stubborn ambition.

“No,” he agrees, mouth curling up at the corner, “but it’ll be one hell of a story.”

Day 8

The air is heavy with the sharp, pungent scent of ozone as thunder rumbles overhead. You take in the ominous black clouds, adjusting the hood of your yellow coat to better defend your hair against the pattering raindrops. Doesn’t do much to ward off the chill of the wind though.

Shinx is darting about the meadow in zigzagging lines, wet to the bone and having a blast. Pikachu follows at his heels, electricity sparking from the red circles of her cheeks before fizzling out harmlessly. If there’s any rules to this game they’re playing, you haven’t a clue. Still, their obvious excitement over the weather has you smiling despite the numbness of your toes in soggy shoes.

To your left, Frankie watches the pair of Pokémon nimbly leap over a puddle, studying their graceful movements. His dark hair is flattened against his head, curls beaten into submission, but there’s something in his eyes, a sort of wistfulness that snags your attention like a moth to a flame. 

A bolt of lightning burns a gleaming white strip across the gloomy sky, halting Shinx and Pikachu’s play as they elicit squeaks of awe, but you can’t stop looking at Frankie. He’s grinning now, a wide and ecstatic thing with his head tipped back, rain streaming down his face.

“Amazing, isn’t it? Seeing one of nature’s tantrums,” he says, voice low and wonderstruck. “My mother always said it takes someone extra special to train those who can summon such raw, uncontrollable power on cue.”

You’ve never thought of yourself as someone unusual or remarkable. Looking at him though, soaked and shivering and absolutely beaming, you think if anyone’s extra special in this world it’s him.

Day 1,987

It’s a long time before you can look through photos of him without a wound violently tearing open in your chest. Longer still before you can hear his voice on the phone. He calls more often these days, mostly because you’re knee-deep in another mystery and only a little because he misses you, and that’s okay. You can smile at his jokes and it feels real. You can love him and know better than to be in love with him.

You stay busy. You photograph every inch of the nature park on Florio, even convince Professor Mirror to let you take the NEO-ONE to some of Lental’s other islands for further research. You spend hours clicking through photos on your computer, frowning at blurry ones, printing some out for the Professor to take a closer look at as well as a few for your own personal collection of albums. 

Your coworker isn’t an intimidating figure by any means, but something about watching him study and scrutinize your pictures never fails to make your hands shake and feet shuffle. Even after all these months, practically living inside each other’s pockets at the Laboratory of Ecology and Natural Sciences (or L.E.N.S. as the Professor affectionately calls it), studying the Illumina phenomenon and all its effects, there’s a part of you still terrified it could all come crashing down.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Professor Mirror tells you, glaring disapprovingly over the frames of his glasses. It’s not the first time you’ve heard that remark and it won’t be the last either. 

“More analyzing the photos and less analyzing me please,” you reply, nodding your head at the small stack in his hands.

He grumbles under his breath, but resumes evaluating the latest shots of your walk along Blushing Beach. There are Wingulls performing loops in the air, an Exeggutor snoozing beneath a palm tree, the splashings of a pair of Corsola playing in the waves. Luxray looking at the contents of a tide pool. A Pikachu eating a fluffruit after you’d scared her by your loud gasp, mistaking her for another of her kind. You don’t mention that tidbit to your coworker though.

That should be the last one, except then Professor Mirror’s letting out a surprised little hum, holding up a photo you never intended anyone else to ever see. Not even the subject. Especially not the subject.

It’s from your sophomore year at Uva Academy. You would call the picture ugly, edges a bit hazy due to your unsteady hands, still learning the tips and tricks of photography, except it’s Frankie. And he’s looking at you behind the lens with a fondness so sweet it makes your teeth hurt, holding a newly evolved Luxio to his chest, with windswept curls your fingers will always long to tame. 

You should’ve thrown it out a long time ago. The man in the photo isn’t the same man who will call you later tonight from half a world away just to ask how your day went and if you’re willing to admit you need his help with the Illumina project. But you’ve always been too sentimental for your own good, holding onto things until there are only scraps left, slipping through the gaps of your fingers. 

At the very least, you shouldn’t have reorganized your albums so close to your work station.

After what feels like the longest stretch of silence of your life, Professor Mirror finally says, carefully neutral as if wary of provoking a negative reaction, “Someone special, I presume?”

“It’s complicated,” is all you offer in response, snatching the picture back and telling yourself the ache behind your ribcage is a side effect of a papercut.

Day 389

Uva Academy teaches you battle strategies, the effects of Berries and how to better understand your Pokémon amongst other vital lessons to prepare students for a career outside the ancient brick walls and dorm rooms. 

It’s Frankie who teaches you how to find beauty in thunderstorms, how to enjoy each day like it’s your last, how to dream a little bit bigger, a little bit bolder—or maybe that’s something you teach each other. 

On the weekends you head into the city center together, trying different eateries and watching fellow students challenge each other on the plaza battle court. Afterwards you’ll walk along the cobblestone streets side by side, sometimes discussing classwork or pointing out items in shop windows, but usually the time is spent in companionable silence. Just sharing the same space.

You buy your first camera acting on pure impulse, drawn to it inexplicably and handing over money to the salesman in a matter of minutes. It fits in the palm of your hand, heavy and solid, buttons and knobs staring back at you, waiting to be pressed and manipulated. For the first ten or so minutes of ownership, you simply hold onto the device, studying its shape, its lens, fingertips running over the bumps and grooves.

“Well?” Frankie prompts, gentle voice breaking the silence, brown eyes flicking between your face and the camera. Pikachu echoes the question with a tiny pika?, sensing the fragility of the moment. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you answer, shoulders curling with self-consciousness. At your feet, Shinx sits on your shoe and rubs his cheek against your leg comfortingly.

“Well,” he hums, a teasing smile growing on his lips as he presses a button. “Maybe start with turning it on first.”

“Shut up.” You swat at him, but there’s no real heat. “I meant, I don’t know what to take a photo of.”

“It doesn’t matter what the sight is,” Frankie tells you, grabbing hold of your hands and raising them up until the camera’s in front of your face. He steps back and you peek at him through the viewfinder, watching as he spreads his arms out wide with Pikachu still happily perched on his shoulder. “What’s important is how it makes you feel.”

You take a breath, taking a moment to hold the shutter button until it focuses, and then take the photo. No count down, no say cheese!—you simply heed his advice, focusing on how it makes you feel.

The preview screen asks if you’d like to keep the picture or delete it. Your thumb hovers over the buttons.

Focused on the way Frankie’s hair has a golden aura in the light, how Pikachu’s nose scrunches when she’s grinning, you nearly jump out of your skin when he’s suddenly at your side again, wondering, “What do I make you feel, shutterbug?”

Like I’m falling and flying at the same time, you think, quick and startling. A bolt of lightning amongst storm clouds.

You press save.

“Like spending a hundred bucks wasn’t a total mistake.”

Day 448

You take a seat in the cafeteria across from Yovanna and her Sylveon. You’re lucky she shares the same lunch hour as you. Even more lucky she likes you enough to also share her space. Her knack for securing a table each day despite the scrambling rush of hungry students is a gift from the gods. Or maybe it’s a perk of being the president of the Academy’s student council.

“You haven’t stopped smiling for days.” She points with her fork at your grin, a giddy, bubbly thing not even Ms. Tyme’s pop quiz last period could stifle. “Spill it. Who’re you crushing on? Is he a student here? You got a picture?”

“Not with me.” It’s a lie, ever since you bought your camera it’s been glued to your person and there’s always at least one picture of him stored within the device’s gallery of Luxio shots and library aesthetic and other things that make you happy. “He is a student here though.”

Yovanna drops her fork onto her plate, jostling the pieces of fruit waiting to be eaten. Sylveon catches a flying strawberry midair by jumping in her seat and landing neatly on four paws like it’s a regular trick to perform. “Shut up. It’s him, isn���t it?”

You feed Luxio a pickle off your sandwich, neither confirming nor denying.

But your grin does get a little bit impossibly wider.

“Aw man, I owe Santi twenty bucks now.”

Your eyes narrow shrewdly. “Did you seriously make a bet?”

“You two are joined at the hip, of course I did.” Yovanna leans back in her chair, arms behind her head, not a single hint of shame for her actions. “Santi said you’d realize you had feelings for him before winter break. I thought it’d take you until the end of the semester ‘cause you’ve got the self-awareness of a piece of concrete most days.”

“Rude.” She dodges the crumpled napkin you toss at her with a laugh.

“Hey, this is a good development. Now you just gotta keep the momentum going and tell him how you feel. You’re perfect for each other.”

Tucking back into her meal, she misses the brief slip in your smile.

“Yeah.”

Day 8

Ms. Dendra is the only teacher without a classroom, preferring to use the battlefield in the middle of the courtyard for her lessons rather than a whiteboard. She weaves along the line of students with her Medicham, offering suggestions and correcting forms to make the most out of their Pokémons’ moves. You keep one eye on her drawing steadily closer and one on Shinx pawing at the ground, charging up electricity in his forelegs. He still hasn’t mastered thunder shock yet, maybe Ms. Dendra can–

“Storm’s coming tonight,” a voice drawls behind you, a curious blend of casual and enthusiastic.

You turn around, finding Frankie standing there looking up at the sky. The dark gray clouds do seem indicative of bad weather, now that he’s mentioned it. Rain is definitely on its way. 

And then he asks, a little sudden, “You ever seen one up close?”

A strange question. Still, you think about it, searching your childhood. All you remember are memories of cowering under the blankets in your bed and playing in puddles the next morning when the monstrous rumbling and harsh flashes had long passed. You’ve seen rain up close, felt the drops on your skin, inhaled the scent of petrichor deep into your lungs. But storms? 

“No,” you shake your head, shivering as the temperature seems to drop. “Never.”

He hums, a bland note that could mean anything. At your feet, Shinx and Pikachu sit and stare at each other, little sparks of blue and yellow static crackling in the air between them like morse code. 

“No wonder you’re having trouble with your partner. Can’t teach him about electricity when you’ve never seen it in action.”

“That’s not how training works,” you retort defensively. “Also storms aren’t exactly harmless, in case you forgot. They’re loud and dangerous and—”

“Beautiful,” Frankie cuts in with such firm conviction you reel back in surprise. “Absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful.” A pause follows, and you hate the smirk that grows on his face, how it taunts you, how it makes his eyes glitter with mischief. “Or maybe not. I could be lying. Only one way to find out for sure.” 

A raindrop lands on your cheek. Then another on your arm. And another on your nose. It’s pouring now. Students are complaining about their lesson being interrupted and Ms. Dendra’s shouting for everyone to head back inside. Through it all your eyes remain locked in an intense staring match, neither one willing to surrender.

“Fine,” you reply with a sharp jerk of your chin. “Show me.”

Day 1,448

Your internship with Professor Oak is—good. It’s the start of a brand new chapter in your life, except the last chapter ended on a terrible note and the upcoming pages are terrifyingly blank if you fail to impress your new boss, so. Yeah.

You get along with the Professor’s other intern, a local boy named Will. He teaches you how to drive the ZERO-ONE around the sanctuary. You spend hours out on the trails, memorizing everything about the wild Pokémon who call the island home. You enjoy the assignments Professor Oak gives you, staying busy, filling up albums with photos and journals with research notes. 

But when it’s quiet, when you’re staring up at the ceiling waiting for sleep to come…you’ve never felt more lonely in your life. Even with Luxray within reach, loyal and constant, there’s a persistent ache you can’t shake. A loose thread dangling in your mind, tormenting you, and you know if you were to tug on it exactly where it would lead.

Everything leads back to him.

Frankie hasn’t tried to call you. Hasn’t had any contact with you since graduation. Not even a postcard from whatever corner of the world he’s trying to accomplish his dreams. 

You haven’t tried to call him either. And yes, it’s true communication is a two-way street, but he’s the one who left and took your heart with him. Why should you give him more of yourself? You hate yourself for even contemplating picking up the phone.

You hate yourself even more for wondering what your relationship would’ve been like if you’d gone with him. If it’d hurt less to just have stayed friends. If you’d been better off never knowing him at all. If, if, if…

Day 485

The problem is, you think your feelings for Frankie are just a little bit stronger than a crush. You’re pretty sure you’re in love with him. Or at least halfway there. 

As much as you hate to admit it, Yovanna wasn’t wrong saying you have the self-awareness of a piece of cement. You don’t know for certain if the fluttery Butterfree sensation in your stomach or galloping heartbeat whenever Frankie smiles at you is love. But you are certain he’s gotten under your skin, triggering as many irritations as he is encouraging new ways of growth. You’re a better person, you think, simply by knowing him.

You also think it’s actually kind of scary to imagine something so strong and life-transforming could be anything else but love. Regardless, you hope it stays with you forever. This precious, nameless thing.

It won’t be until many days later—until you know what it’s like to kiss him, and hold his face between your palms, the heat of his breath tingling against your skin; until he’s fluent in myths and legends and fables, swearing he’ll be the one to make them truths and facts and verities; until you can’t picture a future without him in it, not a happy one, at least—you’ll realize you do love him. And he loves you, too, as it turns out.

But nothing lasts forever. Someone’s always got to be the first to let go. 

Day 1,375

You receive an offer for an internship with Professor Oak in Pallet Town to help him complete his Pokémon Report by taking photos on a nearby island sanctuary. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime to work with such an esteemed researcher, but thinking about graduation creeping up, about leaving behind this realm of familiarity now that you’ve learned everything Uva Academy has to teach, it’s—moving forward is harder than you anticipate.

It doesn’t help that Frankie's becoming more and more restless, unable to stand still as if it physically pains him to do so. No matter how many walks around the city, how many storms chased after, he’s always looking out towards the horizon, aura so thick with discontentment it’s as if he’s physically cloaked in it. 

Lately the only moments he seems to settle within his own skin are when he’s talking with Ms. Raifort, discussing ancient prophecies and ruins scattered around the globe. You don’t understand it, his passionate fascination–no, obsession with mythology. Why not let sleeping dogs lie? 

Frankie won’t talk to you about the future, evading the topic like a cunning Nickit. Still you cling to his hand, to hope, to the belief love conquers all, until the morning of graduation he comes to your dorm room and stares over your shoulder rather than meet your gaze. Even Pikachu hides her face in his curls, ears lowered despondently.

You let him in, the beginnings of dread stirring in your stomach, sensing whatever he’s got to say will have irreparable consequences.

“Did you have breakfast yet?” You gesture towards the kitchen, an unspoken can this wait? laced within the question.

“Not feeling very hungry today,” he answers, glancing about the room aimlessly. No, it can’t.

“That’s a first.” You take a seat on the sofa next to Luxray, grounding yourself by stroking a hand along his back. “You gonna tell me what’s on your mind or are you gonna make me guess?”

At that, Frankie finally turns to you, and his torn expression fractures something delicate inside of you, coldness flooding your lungs.

“I’ve been thinking. About us.”

“What about us?”

“I love you.” There’s no sweetness to the words. No tenderness. They are words of blood, of pain, scraping against his throat on their way out. “I’ve loved you from day one and I’ll love you ten thousand more. But what I want, what you want—it’s not the same thing. And it’s only going to hurt the longer we keep pretending otherwise.”

“Stop, please don’t—” your voice cracks, the cold gripping your heart now. Please don’t say it. Please don’t do this. “We’re—we’re good together. You know we are.”

“We were,” he amends, voice so unbearably gentle it’s a jagged blade against your soul. “We were so good. But we’re not ready for what comes next. We’ve become thunder and lightning, one ahead of the other. Our timing is off, shutterbug.”

Day 765

It’s drizzling a little when you return to campus. You shiver in your wet dress, grimacing as you accidentally step in a puddle, thoroughly soaking your flats and bare feet. Hopefully you won’t slip on the stairs and break your neck. That’d be the cherry on top of this disappointing evening.

You just want to shower, put on your comfiest pajamas, and fall asleep as fast as possible. 

Except when you reach your floor there’s a figure curled up on the floor outside your door, fast asleep with a snoring Pikachu curled on his chest.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” You nudge at Frankie’s knee with your wet shoe, raising an eyebrow at him as he jerks awake, blinking rapidly. “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, you’re back,” he says through a yawn, stretching his arms over his head. Pikachu grunts, displeased at the movement and sounds, and stubbornly curls into a tighter ball, forcing him to cradle her in the nook of his arm as he stands up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I just–I wanted to make sure you got back from your date okay. How did it go?”

Your date, Tom, is in Mr. Hassel’s art class with you. He invited you to see a new photography exhibit at the city’s museum. He was nice, if a little overzealous, and seeing lovely displays of art  seemed like a better way to spend the evening instead of once again hopelessly pining over your best friend. So, you’d said yes, changed into a nice dress, and swore off any and all yearning.

Except that’s exactly what you ended up doing anyways. 

Every time a photo left you breathless, you’d instinctively turn to look for brown eyes that weren’t there. Every joke Tom made you’d compare it to one of Frankie’s. Throughout the entire evening, you couldn’t stop your thoughts drifting back towards the Academy, wondering what he was doing.

You weren’t surprised Tom cut the date short, correctly sensing your heart just wasn’t into it. Still stung a bit though watching him leave you behind to join up with some other classmates hanging out in the plaza.

“Poorly,” you answer with a slight grimace.

“Oh.” Frankie blinks, looking at a loss for additional words. He’s wearing the hoodie he got from his trip to Montenevera over the holiday break and sweatpants, warm and rumpled and cozy, a complete contrast to your entire wardrobe. “Did he–did he hurt you? Because if he did anything inappropriate, I swear–”

“What? No, no, nothing like that happened.” You shake your head, ignoring the flutter of your heartbeat, touched at his protectiveness. He’s still staring at you, and you know he’s not going to let this slide under the rug. “Relax, tough guy. Tom was fine. I was the problem.”

“Tauros shit,” he immediately rejects the notion. “You could never be a problem.”

The hallway feels too hot all of the sudden despite the icy raindrops still clinging to your skin. “That’s sweet,” you say, trying to flash a grin except the muscles in your face refuse to cooperate. It feels stiff. Forced. “You say that to all the girls?”

His mouth tugs upwards into a smile, dimpled and boyish. “Once or twice,” he says, “but I only mean it with you.”

It’s dangerous and stupid to get your hopes up, but there’s something about the quietness, something about his brown eyes and his nearness, that makes you take a leap of faith. Makes you think screw it and reach for his free hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I was the problem,” you tell him softly, watching his expression sober, “because I kept looking for you.”

Silence follows, interrupted by a quiet snore from Pikachu. 

Then, just as softly, Frankie says for a second time, “Oh.”

You swallow, feeling like you can’t breathe. “Yeah.”

“Silly girl, you didn’t need to look.” He squeezes your hand, leans in just enough to bump his nose against yours. “I’ve always been here.”

Day 1,375

Later, you won’t remember the particulars of how the rest of the conversation played out. There are words, so many words. Angry and inconsolable, spat out through clenched teeth and pleaded with numb lips. Tears, too. So many damn tears it’s a wonder you don’t drown yourself.

You will remember how he looks at you though. Brown eyes deep and golden, reflecting the morning light streaming through the window. He’s beautiful, and you think that’s the final straw of it all, the definitive proof that even as he’s ripping out your heart you will never feel anything less for him than love. 

No passage of time or miles of distance will ever change that. You know this like you know the sun will rise tomorrow, and the next day, and the one after that. 

Still, this certainty doesn’t stitch up the gaping, bleeding hole in your sternum.

No, that self-healing won’t begin until many, many days later.

Day 610 

In another life, if you hadn’t discovered your love of photography, you think you would have been a great astronomer. You know each of the constellations’ names, the best times during the year to spot them, even the tales assigned to them.

Tonight, the night sky is full of stars in every direction you look, not even the distant city lights strong enough to overpower their shine. You lie on your back in the soft meadow grass, hands resting on your stomach, the scent of wildflowers as thick in the air as the fireflies Luxio and Pikachu chase after. To your left, he mimics your pose, except he’s got an arm pillowed under his head, silent except for his breathing.

“There’s Kingler, cursed to hold up his heavy claw for eternity,” you say eventually, raising a hand to trace the starry outline with your fingertip. “Cubone’s next to him, forever mourning his mother.”

He remains silent. You turn your head to look at him, discovering he is deeply absorbed in his thoughts. Physically, you could easily reach out for his hand, but the blankness in his eyes suggests internally he’s half a world away. Somewhere you can’t follow. An irrational spark of jealousy burns hot in your veins, upset your presence isn’t enough of an anchor to keep him locked in the present moment.

You emit a quiet sigh, mentally rolling your eyes at your own childishness, and start to turn back to the sky when his voice catches you off guard, asking, “You ever notice they’re all tragedies?”

“Huh?”

“The myths behind the constellations.” He looks at you then, eyes dim with an emotion you can’t recognize. “Can you name one with a happy ending?”

You think about Pinsir, exiled due to his uncontrollable rage; Koffing, releasing toxic gases as he dies; Dugtrio, punished by an angry Groudon for gouging too many holes in the earth. The list grows longer, the tales grow sadder.

“No,” you say at last. “I guess not.”

He shrugs a shoulder, like it’s nothing, like his next words aren’t going to hurt something fierce. “That’s because happy endings are the biggest myth of all.”

Day 1,375

He kisses you. It is perfect and excruciating all at once. His hand is cupping your cheek, and his touch is so tender and intimately familiar you can’t stop yourself from indulging and it’s cruel of him to leave you like this. Shattered and wanting. Falling and flying.

But when Frankie’s right, he’s right.

This split in your paths has been a long time coming. You’d just refused to read the writing on the wall, content to keep counting the days, pretending the number would stretch on into infinity.

Infinity is just another word for forever though.

And there’s truth in that old saying: when you love someone—

“I love you,” he says again at the door. His eyes drift over your face, as if memorizing every detail. “And I’m proud of you. Remember that.” There’s the briefest of glimpses of tears in his eyes before he’s wrapping you in a hug, so tight your ribs painfully protest. You savor every second of it. “This isn’t the last of us. We’ll meet again, I swear it. One day, shutterbug.”

—you let them go.

Day 1,669

You’ve been dreading his arrival, dreading how he might look at you. What might be different. What, if anything, might be the same. 

All communication thus far has been directly with Professor Oak. You haven’t heard a single peep even though your number’s stayed the same. Even though you know he knows you’re here. 

Luxray stays close as the hour draws closer, trying to soothe your nervous energy. You stroke his mane, eyes flicking between your computer, the window, and then back again. The cursor blinks on the screen, waiting for you to finish adding the last details to the report you’ve been developing on the Pokémon signs you and Will discovered. Bizarre occurrences where the environment manifests the likeness of specific Pokémon—always the same ones in the same places. But why they existed and what they meant remained unsolved mysteries robbing you of sleep.

It had been the Professor's idea to invite another set of eyes to examine the clues after months of no solid progress. For every one step made forward it felt like the universe would shove you five steps backwards, the hidden connection remaining just out of your reach.

If you had known Professor Oak and Ms. Raifort were old friends, that she would’ve recommended her favorite pupil…well, you’re not sure if anything would’ve really changed. What fate wants, fate gets one way or another.

Frankie arrives at eventide, bringing the warmth of the fading sun into the lab with him. He looks…unchanged. Maybe a little broader, thicker with muscle from his journeys. But still familiar in all the ways that matter. You wonder if the same can be said for yourself. 

He’s looking at you, and it’s—it’s less painful than you expected. No tight band wrapped around your middle, no spontaneous bursting of tears. He’s just a man with a Pikachu on his shoulder and a dimpled grin on his face.

“Hey shutterbug,” he says, and it feels abruptly like slow motion, like you’re watching through someone else’s eyes as he comes closer, closer, closer and pulls you into a tight embrace. His arms are just as strong as you remember them, memories of graduation screaming in the back of your mind and you’re in your dorm room again watching him walk out of your life with your heart in tow.

You want to…

(kiss him, hit him, hold him, scream at him)

You want too many things.

“Hey,” you echo lamely as he pulls back. If Frankie hears the faintest of quivers in your voice, he thankfully doesn’t show a sign of it. You shoot a small grin at Pikachu, mouth stretching wider when she returns it with a cheerful pika pi, waving her paw. “Ready to help solve a mystery?”

“I always wanted to make history.” He’s smirking that same damn smirk, an intense pang of nostalgia striking you. Your fingers twitch, wishing you had your camera. “But I think it’s better this way, yeah?”

“What way?”

Distantly, you’re aware of Professor Oak and Will watching the conversation ping-ponging back and forth, both smart enough to pick up on the unspoken something between you and Frankie. 

“Making history together,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “We make a good team, you and I.”

The words bounce around inside your head for a moment. A good team. Is that all we are? is what you want to ask, but the answer’s a double-edged sword shoved between your ribs no matter how he phrases it. 

So you swallow the question down and bury it. 

“C’mon,” you gesture towards your computer, “I’ll show you what we’ve got so far.”

Day 128

Winter sweeps in, all frigid winds and frosted windows. Together you stay at the Academy during the holiday break. It’s days of no homework, snowball fights, and parka coats. Nights spent by the fireplace, hot chocolates topped with whipped cream, wishing you could bottle these memories in a jar and keep them on a shelf.

If Frankie knew about it, he would say Jirachi heard your wish, but it’s your opinion that fate’s just got a funny sense of humor. Either way, a few years down the line you’ll have the collection of memories you desired, almost all of them starring him. They won’t be kept in fragile jars, but in captured photographs unaffected by the withering flow of time. Little glimpses of a happy life, and how much you've lost.

Day 2,000 

You kiss Frankie on the front deck of the L.E.N.S. the night before he’s scheduled to leave. It’s stupid and impulsive, but he’s just right there in front of you, bathed in starlight and high off the elation that comes with solving another Pokémon mystery, further securing his place amongst the pages of historic exploration, a legend in his own lifetime, and there’s no thoughts in your head so—you kiss him. 

It isn’t your first kiss, but it feels like something new. He’s got stubble now, you’re wearing a lab coat—little details of proof you’re far from the kids you used to be. He smells the same though, like coffee and evergreens and fresh rain. The quiet, awed exhale of your name, like you’re something wonderful, something mythical come true, is the same too. 

And for the briefest of moments, you can almost imagine you’re together again.

But in the end it’s just a kiss, not a time machine. 

Day 1,762

“For someone with a new career, you don’t look very excited,” Will says, knocking his shoulder against yours good-naturedly. You try to summon up a smile, but it isn’t fooling anyone.

Professor Oak’s treating you both to a fancy dinner at a restaurant you can’t pronounce the name of, celebrating the news of your new job as an official field research photographer working alongside Professor Mirror in Florio. It’s an amazing step forward, resulting from the success of the Rainbow Cloud discovery with Frankie, certain to give your name another added boost of recognition in the photography community. 

“I am,” you say, remembering how you’d nearly passed out when you received the offer. Another attempt at a grin yields better results. “It’s gonna be great.”

Will tilts his head, a knowing look in his eyes. “You’re thinking about him. Again.”

“Not intentionally.” Your lips curl into a rueful grimace, fingers twisting together in your lap. “He just…never leaves my thoughts.”

Frankie told you before he left he didn’t have a home, not anymore, too much of a restless spirit to stay in one place. You wonder if his answer would be different, if he knew it’s been 1,762 days and every one of them he’s spent occupying your head.

“Even when he’s gone and left you behind?” From anyone else, the question would’ve been harsh, but your friend’s eyes are kind, full of empathy. 

There’s a second where you contemplate lying, but you can’t. Not to him, and not to yourself.

“Especially then.”

Day 2,000

“Sorry.” It comes out of your mouth stilted—not because you don’t mean it, but because your heart’s beating like a thunderstorm. A wildness you haven’t felt in years.

“I’ve never needed an apology from you.” Frankie looks at you softly, the brown of his eyes getting lost in the dark. “Two thousand. Can you believe it? Seems like just yesterday I watched you walk into class.”

You forget sometimes that he’s the sentimental type too when it comes to those he cares about. It’s why he doesn’t give Pikachu a Thunderstone, and why he only knows how to play one song on a guitar, his mother’s favorite. How sweet it is, to learn he must care about you to keep count, maybe even love you a little bit still.

“Frankie,” you start, dropping your forehead onto his shoulder. His nearness is a comfort as much as it is a distraction, but this conversation is long overdue by hundreds of days. “What are we?”

“You tell me.” A hand comes to rest on your waist, a searing brand through the fabric of your clothes. “What do you want us to be?”

You think about the question for a long moment, wondering what words pack enough meaning to give the answer it deserves.

What you want is another storm to chase, another constellation to trace. What you want is for your hands to brush during walks, never having to hear his voice on the end of a phone again because he’s right there by your side. What you want is everything that once was to align in perfect harmony with the immediate now.

“I want us to be together.”

“We are.”

“No, we’re not,” you murmur, staring down at the mud stains on his boots. 

“Listen, shutterbug,” his hands move to your head, one tilting up your chin and the other gently palming your neck, forcing you to meet his gaze, “a lot can happen in two thousand days–”

“I know, I know.”

His fingers spasm, like he’s resisting the urge to tug on your hair, eyes sharpening at the interruption. “A lot can happen in two thousand days,” he repeats, and you hear it this time, the heavy weight in his tone. Rarely is he this serious. “We’ve changed, we’ve grown, we’ve been on opposite ends of the earth from each other. But tonight, of all places, I’m here and you’re here.”

And maybe it really is that simple. People say lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice, but twice now you’ve watched him go and twice he’s been brought back to you. 

You reach up, wrapping your hands around his wrists, holding him there. “Do you think we’ll ever be what we were?”

“No.” He steps impossibly closer, lips brushing against your forehead. “I think one day we’ll be better.”

Better, you mouth the word. It feels like a promise, like a turning point. 

“Yeah, one day,” you agree, heartbeat steadying, matching the rhythm of his beneath your fingertips. “It’ll be worth the wait.”