Bubblegum Bitch ♡ Smut Oneshots

She Means Everything to Me

Smut time. Wink wink.

—

Geralyn's body stilled, including her breath which she prevented from flowing through her lungs. The pink hue encompassing her layered over the look of pure surprise settling on her face, parted lips and widened eyes as her reaction to Frankie's confession.

Frankie only assumed her face was a similar color as she frantically reeled in the sprig of panic momentarily flashing through her. She needed to finish off what she started, stopping halfway would be idiotic of her, and it didn't seem Geralyn was capable of responding just yet.

"That night at Ray's party. I lied and told you I didn't remember anything because . . . I've been so confused. I'm sure you've heard and seen that I'm the golden girl. I had all these cheesy, unrealistic expectations for myself. Others started to expect those things of me too, but that's my fault." Frankie stumbled over her breath and struggled to stay on the right track without chickening out. "I'd never done anything like what we did with another girl before. I've . . . I've never — never had feelings for another girl."

"Fuck." Geralyn gasped suddenly, all out of air, "Frankie, you don't —"

"I don't mean to be rude, but can I — can I finish? Please? This is just really important, I don't." Frankie couldn't complete her sentence.

"I'm sorry. Continue." Geralyn snapped her mouth shut, but her eyes were alight and burning like the stars came alive in her irises.

Frankie squeezed her eyes shut for a minute to collect herself before resuming with shaking hands and a voice to match. "I freaked out. Like, hardcore. I went through a whole fucking crisis overnight and it's been that way ever since. I couldn't face you, tell you I remembered every second of what we did, try to go back to normal after that, I just — fuck. I was scared of things changing and facing all these things I always sort of kicked to the back of my head. Like how my attraction to guys has always been so grossly forced. But I never needed to force anything whenever I was near you. So . . . America's golden girl fell off her pedestal, landed hard on her ass, and faced reality."

Frankie sucked down a breath of air into her lungs that began deflating from her rush of words that kept overflowing, though she meant to keep things simpler, she found that she couldn't disparage any of her troubles by releasing it in so little words.

"It hasn't been easy. Not at all, but I'm still so sorry I lied to you and made you close off your memory of what we did too. It wasn't fair." Frankie showed the remorseful side of her lowering the volume she spoke at and somehow seeming the most difficult part to unleash.

Frankie's shame was exposed in the most vulnerable fashion. It was nothing compared to the way she confessed to her friends as tears spilled from her eyes, this was facing truth itself, grazing change, and although she was terrified and ridden with the most sickening amount of guilt, she'd run herself dry from all the times she cried. She was so through with crying, all she wanted was to hear reassurance or rejection from the one person placed at the center of everything.

A shockingly soft voice answered to Frankie's chaotic spill of words she could only hope made sense and pieced together well. "Frankie. Frankie, please, you don't owe me an apology. You don't owe me anything."

Frankie's eyes which had pinched shut, opened slowly. They blearily met Geralyn's brimming over with compassion, guilt of her own forming in the constellations of different colors freckled in her irises. She was taken aback by its appearance.

"I — of course I do. We did something serious together and I flipped on you, I pretended like nothing happened after I literally ran away screaming." Frankie's voice pitched higher with disbelief.