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#((Girl's having a fucking T I M E right now.))
dramioneasks · 2 days
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Hermione’s Birthday (2024):
Not a Fan of Birthdays by allslowadagio - E, one-shot - Hermione Granger doesn't do birthdays. In fact, she hasn't done birthdays in years. When Draco asks her what she'd like to receive as a gift, she suggests a simple hug. OR The hug is not simple at all and they actually have feelings for each other.
can i be close to you? by theseheavytimes - T, one-shot - “You know, Hermione,” Theo mused. “I’m willing to bet you don’t have to be alone on your birthday if you don't want to be. I bet there’s someone just dying to give you the birthday celebration you deserve.” Theo paused, sliding from the desk and jumping to his feet. He turned his back on Granger as if to pace the length of the room, but really he was staring directly at Draco with that worrying smirk on his face. “And I bet,” he continued, not bothering to hide the sly glee in his voice, “that you wouldn’t have to look very far to find him.” * * * (Or, Draco undergoes daily torture pining after Hermione. Theo decides to put him out of his misery.)
Happy Birthday, Granger by Simply_Lovely_Reader - E, one-shot - Inspired by a POV created by TikTok user @cortneyreinhardt that said "Draco is venting to his friends about how much he hates Granger but lets it slip that he wants to fuck it out of her…" Or, in honor of the birthday I share with the one and only Hermione Granger today, a one-shot of Hermione overhearing Draco say he wants to shag her and years later challenging him to do just that. Happy Birthday Hermione!
birthday dinner by Indigo_Dewdrops - M, one-shot - If Draco did surely he wouldn't have been so calm about facing her at work with that gaudy, golden star balloon and a cupcake, "With love from your Weasel, I assure."
Happy Birthday, Mummy by Dizzle00 - E, one-shot - “To your birth, something I thank the gods for every day.” He shakes his head as if overcome and his voice breaks a little. “The world would be a devastating place without you in it.” She tilts her head with a soft, tender smile and kisses his jaw, clinking her glass against his and taking a sip. He leans in to kiss her again. “You’ll be dessert.” He grins wickedly and Hermione hums, her insides molten at the implications. “What if I want dessert first?” “No no,” Draco tuts, his thumb brushing the bow of her lips. “Naughty girls don’t get dessert. Your job right now is to sit and relax, and let Daddy—“ she raises a brow at the vicious smirk he gives her when using the word—“feed you.”
celeste granger-malfoy by riddikulus_puff - T, one-shot - Celeste Cassiopeia Granger. Hermione’s saving grace in the form of a little pale pink bundle of joy. She couldn’t have asked for anything better.
A Manor of Iniquity by SparklesMagicLightLove, writetimewrongmuse - E, one-shot - Hermione’s hands shake at her back. The desire to look upon him—to see his piercing gaze as he inspects her, bound, naked, and bowed on the floor of his ancestral home—courses through her like ecstasy. And he knows it. Or For Hermione’s Birthday, she decides to reclaim her identity. Her husband is all too happy to oblige in her degradation fantasy.
Happy Birthday, Granger by Fawkes_in_sox - T, one-shot - An angsty double drabble for our girl's birthday. (Star-crossed lovers pine pathetically for each other instead of working out their problems on Hermione's birthday.)
Happy Birthday, Baby by morriganmercy - E, one-shot - Just because Hermione is another year older, doesn’t mean she can’t feel little sometimes. And just because Draco is nearly a year her junior, doesn’t mean she can’t call him Daddy. [One for the daddy kink girls who tragically fell in love with someone their own age.]
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heavensentofficial · 7 months
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Early Birthday Present for Lettie!
A 60cm Ball Jointed Doll that looks Exactly like her!! Down to Every Last Detail.... :3
A card with the doll assures Lettie that it isn't haunted, but somehow the doll can never be left with the intention of abandoning it. It's fine if she leaves it in her room during the day, but if she tries to give it away to someone else it reappears in her room :)
And after a through inspection, no cameras! It really is just a Doll that looks Exactly like her and Loves her Very Much!! :)
[As Lettie sat at her desk, relatively sure that she was alone, she quietly unwrapped the most recent surprise gift she'd gotten in the mail. A little late for Valentine's day she thought, but upon checking the note, she soon found it to be more of an early birthday present. That and a bunch of other stuff that confused her, but would soon make more sense with context.]
[Once the wrapping paper was binned, Lettie would be faced by... Herself. Considerably smaller of course, but that was without any shadow of a doubt her. The horns and the thin ribbons adorning them, the hooves, the precise peachy shade of her hair, the lace-trimmed surplice she usually wore over her dress about the temple, her rosary and even the gloves she wore. It was really... Uncanny. As she looked into the thing's big, green doe eyes, she wondered if the discomfort she felt was how she made others feel. Someone clearly spent a lot of money or a lot of time on this... Or both. Probably both, in fact. She couldn't help but produce a tiny, wry chuckle as she noticed that even the embroidery around the hole in the surplice for her tail was completely on point. Lettie wasn't aware of there being much point in staring at her rear end with how she dressed hiding so much and all, but clearly someone had done their extensive research on that front regardless.]
[It all seemed to be removable. Even the gloves, she noticed. Just a quick, grim curiosity fueled peak up her own skirt... Great. The underwear was accurate too. Of course it was. She wasn't wearing that pair of bloomers right now, at least. Shuddering, she put the skirt back down and set that worry aside. As she fiddled with a tiny glove, she frowned to herself. Surely it can't be that accurate... That would be absurd. Still, a feeling of dread bubbled in her that she hadn't felt something quite like in a while, now. As she slowly pulled the glove off of the small hand, she found herself holding her breath in... Horrible anticipation, she supposed.]
[Then, that breath got caught in her throat. How did they even get the scarring on her palms so accurate on such a small scale? And to what end? Specifically to terrify her? By now, panic began to well up in her as she flipped the doll onto its front with uncharacteristic frenzy and pushed the dress up, revealing its back. ... Yup. Scars to match there, too. She'd not seen enough of that sigil to confirm it was a perfect match, but it seemed like a fair assumption. Biting her lip, she attempted to control the building nausea as she pulled one of her own gloves off to delicately run a finger over it, a sickening, throbbing phantom-like pain spreading across her back as she felt shape carved into the doll's body. Then with a gasp, she pulled the dress back down.]
[Frankly, she was almost impressed. At this point, she'd not felt nearly this utterly violated in quite some time! Just thinking about it, she wanted to wash and then hide under her blankets. Her first thought was that this might be the work of a particularly deranged member of the clergy... Someone with the level of access required to be peeping on her as she bathed or perhaps changed so regularly as to get this mimicry so perfect. Or perhaps it was one of the ones who'd put those scars there to begin with. A sickening thought. Did they just want to see her naked at this point? Her next suspect was one of the initiates. She'd had some close scrapes herself, in regards to being walked in on by them and she knew she wasn't the only one. But... Who at the temple would even have time for such a thing? And as she re-read the note, it was clear there was either magic or the work of an extremely dedicated stalker at play. She... Wasn't actually sure which would be worse. Or if she even wanted to know at this point. Right now, it felt like she'd seen enough.]
[After steeling herself for the most thorough look-over she could manage for some kind of camera - thankfully she'd been spared that much at least - Lettie breathed a heavy, trembling sigh and gently picked the doll up, straightening its dress out and putting the glove back onto its hand. It was a shame she couldn't gift it to someone else, truly. Not that she'd even consider such a thing, with her very own quite personal secrets etched into the damned thing, but she could name more than one person that might actually like this more than they liked her. Yup. Whether through magic, or the will of a stalker, this thing was staying with her. ... At least it wasn't as if she disliked staring at herself, usually. Maybe she'd get used to it, she hoped. If nothing else, she could use it as a tiny model for dress designs she lacked the time to make properly.]
[Right. This was fine. It was just more of the same. Just... Scarier. She'd have to do a little investigating, just to make sure the temple's secrets were safe, but that was all. With slightly shaking hands, she found the doll a comfortable spot to sit on her desk, taking a moment to move its hands into its lap neatly for reasons she couldn't quite explain. Then she patted it gently on the head with two fingers. Whatever this was, it wasn't its fault. Probably...]
"Keep an eye out for creeps for me?"
[She asked it quietly as she rummaged through her desk drawers, narrowing her eyes when she produced a razor sharp pair of miniature wool clippers. ... She couldn't possibly be seen to resort to violence. Especially at the temple. But... They did make her feel that little bit safer whenever she held them. After slipping them into her belt, she took a deep breath, pulled her own glove back on, plastered on a smile and made her way out of the room to return to her duties. And also to embark in search of something to help with her sudden feeling of illness. Mostly that one, actually.]
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The ABCs of Alastor - Cum
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
MATURE CONTENT AHEAD! MINORS DNI!
Words: ~2200 TW: swearing, vaginal sex, exhibitionism (I think that's how it's called), cum, fingering
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Alastor was not the kind to take his frustrations on you, especially not when he was jealous. He'd rather make the unfortunate soul who dared to hit on you feel like it was the last mistake they'd ever done. He knew it was not your fault when you gained unwanted attention, so there'd be no point in being mad at you.
But when Lucifer stepped into the Hazbin Hotel, his eyes roaming over your body as his lips briefly touched your hand, kissing it, Alastor saw red before him. If he wasn't Charlie's father, the very next moment there'd be nothing left of him apart from that ridiculously big hat of his. But he had to keep it together. So instead of throwing snarky remarks at him, he approached you, a hand tightly gripping your waist.
"And who are you?" Lucifer asked with a raised brow, his hand lingering possessively over yours as if daring Alastor to respond.
"The Radio Demon, at your service," his eyes twitched in frustration and just by the looks of it, you could tell how pissed he was.
"Never heard of you." The King of Hell dismissed him, his focus returning to you. "Now, darling, how about you show me the hotel?"
"I am sorry to inform you that (Y/n) has other business to attend right now," Alastor said through his teeth, his claws digging into your flesh at that point.
"Yeah, Dad! How about I show you the hotel?" Charlie intervened, laughing awkwardly as she pushed her father away, giving you an apologetic look. You both watched as Charlie and Vaggie led him away, the tension in the air growing heavier around you..
"Damn, Alastor... The King of Hell himself is hitting on ya girl!" Angel Dust teased, disturbing both of you from your thoughts. "I'd be careful if I were you."
His grip on you tightened further when he heard Angel mocking him, his eyes narrowing dangerously at the spider demon. He was already struggling to repress his irritation towards Lucifer's actions, and Angel's words only served to push him closer to the edge
"(Y/n)..." he said, his voice tense. "I am waiting for you in our room. We have some things to discuss." he disappeared in one of his portals, leaving you alone with Angel Dust and Husker. You took a deep breath, not even noticing you were holding it.
"You're fucked, toots." Angel chuckled.
"What? What have I done?" you asked confused as he came closer to you.
"I've seen this look before! He's jealous as fuck. He's gonna fuck your guts until you'll need assistance to walk."
Your heart raced, a mix of fear and excitement churning in your stomach. "I don't think it's that!"
He gently pats you on the shoulder, giving you a smirk. "We'll see 'bout that."
You sighed, mumbling under your breath as you made your way to your room, not wanting to piss him off further. A sense of excitement and nervousness filled you as Angel's words replayed in your head. Was he mad at you? But it wasn't your fault Lucifer was being touchy...
You stopped in front of your shared bedroom, taking a deep breath before you touched the doorknob. But before you could open the door yourself, it burst open, shadowy tentacles dragging you inside and throwing you on the bed, the door shutting tight behind you. As more shadows spawned to hold down your wrists and legs, Alastor stepped in front of you, slowly approaching the bed, his cane tapping the floor with every step.
He looked down at you, his face still set in the typical smile, but his eyes were full of annoyance, his clawed fingers tightly gripping the fabric of his coat.
"What was that, my dear?" He said through gritted teeth, his voice low and dangerous.
"Alastor... He didn't know, alright? I think he got the message now." you said, a tentacle slowly gripping your neck, choking you slightly.
"Oh, I'm sure he got the message, my dear." Alastor knelt on the bed, his hands resting on either side of your head, trapping you under him. The tentacle around your neck continued to tighten its grip, making it harder to breathe. "But that doesn't change the fact that he was touching you, in front of everyone... in front of me." He was leaning closer to you now, his face inches away from yours.
You gasped for air as his claws traced your body, from your neck to your waist, slowly dragging the soft fabric of your clothes. "And if I'm being honest, you seemed to enjoy the attention too."
"What? No! I wasn't!" you said in defence, as the tentacles pushed you further into the bed.
Alastor's eyes narrowed as he chuckled darkly, clearly not buying your protest. "Oh, really?" His hand moved to the hem of your top, his fingers gently tugging it upward, exposing your stomach. "Because it looked like you were into it, my dear..." He said, the tip of his clawed finger now tracing the revealed skin, sending shivers down your spine. "And the fact that you didn't pull away from him, not for a moment..." He leaned even closer, his breath hot on your neck. "That tells me a lot..."
His eyes glowed in the dim light of the room, but you couldn't help the feeling of excitement in your chest, the situation was morbidly arousing and scary at the same time. "It's not true, Alastor!"
He chuckled again, the sound sending a chill down your spine. "Is it not, my dear?" He continued to caress your body, his hand now moving under your skirt, his fingers tracing small patterns on your thigh. "Because you seem quite excited for someone who wasn't enjoying Lucifer's attention..." He mused a hint of mockery in his voice.
You looked away, a dark blush on your face as his hand moved dangerously close to your core, threatening to feel how wet you were already. "It isn't because of him, asshole..." you mumbled.
His eyes gleamed with satisfaction at your response, a devilish smirk spreading across his lips. "Is that so?" He leaned in once more, his hot breath caressing your ear. "Then tell me, my dear... who exactly is making you this excited right now?" His hand moved slightly higher, the wetness drenching your panties as he slowly rubbed your core. You let out a gasp when you felt his clawed hand against you, wanting more with every move. "Is it me who got you this wet?" he asked huskily, his breath tickling the skin of your neck.
"Yes..." you whispered, fighting against the restraints that kept you in place, wanting to touch him so badly. "It's only you, Alastor! Only you can make me feel this way."
A sinister smile curled on his lips as he leaned in, his kiss a delicate contrast to the growing intensity of his touch, each stroke sending shockwaves through your body. His cock grew even harder at your words, pleasing him immensely. "Then how about we make sure he knows this too?" he whispered.
"What... What do you mean?" you sheepishly asked, afraid of what idea he might have.
"How about we let him know how good I can make you feel? Only me."
He slowly pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours, savouring every moment of anticipation. With deliberate precision, he unzipped his trousers, letting the tension hang in the air before pressing his cock against your trembling body.
He placed his microphone next to your face, and that's when it hit you - you weren't the only ones to hear the lewd sounds that were yet to come.
"Alastor? What are you doing?!"
Alastor chuckled softly, clearly enjoying your surprise response.
"I'm going to make a point, my dear. Now, be a good girl and be as loud as you can."
He pushed your panties aside, forcing his cock inside of your hole, a loud moan filling the room as he entered you completely. He stopped for a moment, wiping the small tears that gathered in the corner of your eyes. "It's a good start. Good girl." he praised as he pulled out, only to slam back into you.
"Fuck~ Take it easy, Al!" you said as he thrusted a few more times inside of you.
"Oh, but my dear... You seem to like it."
His thrusts became faster, as the tentacles spread your legs further, giving him more access. You arched your back as his cock came in and out of you harshly, the sounds of your arousal and skin slapping filling the room.
"You hear this, Your Majesty?" Alastor said in a mocking tone, grabbing the microphone. "It's a special broadcast, just for you."
He threw the microphone back on the bed, leaning over you, his hips harshly meeting yours. His tongue invaded your mouth, as moans of pleasure echoed through the room, making him go faster.
"Tell him, dear!" he said between grunts. "Tell him who's making you feel so good!"
You felt more tentacles caressing your body, grabbing and running across every inch of skin they could find. A powerful wave of pleasure took over your body as one of them started to rub your clit, your mind going blank as his cock fucked you into the bed, driving you closer to your orgasm.
"Fuck! Alastor! Fuck - Fuck me!" you gasped, your eyes teary from the pleasure.
You moaned loudly as a strong orgasm hit you, leaving your body a trembling mess, the feeling of overstimulation making you lightheaded as he continued to ram into your heat. He groaned at how tight you became, but his cock continued to drag painfully across your velvet walls.
"You're... You're gonna take every single bit of my seed, dear!" he said through gritted teeth as the tentacles lifted your ass from the bed, allowing him to fuck you even deeper than before, his claws digging into your waist. His cock felt like it was going to break through you, as you dipped your nails in your palms, feeling like you were about to faint.
With a few more powerful thrusts, he spilt his cum inside of you. He stood there for a moment, his eyes shut as the pleasure left his body. His breath heavy as small droplets of sweat made his forehead glow. The tentacles left your sore body and gently allowed you to fall on the bed.
Panting, his cock still inside of you, he grabbed the microphone. "Until next broadcast, Your Majesty." he chuckled a bit, his attention returning to you. "Are you alright, my little doe?" he asked, his claws gently tracing your flustered cheek.
"You really... You really broadcasted the whole thing?" you asked, somehow less worried about it than you should've been.
"Let's just say I placed a radio in his room... As a gift. If he heard it or not... We're yet to find out." he chuckled, pulling himself out. You winced at the sudden feeling of his fingers roughly entering you, pumping your pussy a few times, the stretch feeling unbearable now.
"Alastor, please…" you gasped, the words slipping out before you could stop them, torn between protest and longing.
"I said you're gonna take everything, dear. And I meant it!" he placed your panties back, gently patting your heat. "I want that fucker to smell me when he sees you. If the broadcast wasn't enough, of course."
You got up, and he gently helped you, a soft smile on his face this time. You buried your face into his chest, hugging him tightly as he made small circles on your back.
"Are you mad at me?" you asked.
"Absolutely not, my dear! I just needed to prove something... And I think we did a pretty good job." he praised.
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The idea of having Alastor's cum inside you all day seemed exciting... until you had to walk around the hotel with the sticky fluid making a mess of your panties.
You rested your chin on your hand, trying to ignore the weird feeling between your legs, your cheeks flustered after you told Angel what happened.
"Holy shit, toots! I didn't think smiley is that freaky!" he chuckled. "But you guys didn't need the radio for the entire Pentagram City to know what you were doing."
"Wait... What?" you asked, looking at him.
"We need to talk to Charlie... These walls are thinner than they should be..." Husk mumbled, an obvious smirk on his face.
"Fuck..." you said, hiding your face in your palms. "So y'all heard it?"
"Indeed." a voice echoed behind you. You quickly turned to see Lucifer looking at you, an annoyed look on his slightly blushed face. He held a radio in his arms or... what remained of one after he probably burned it. Just when you were about to apologise for Alastor's "revolutionary idea", he entered the room, humming, seemingly in a good mood.
"Woah! You two should fuck more often... He's less creepy than usual when ya do it." Angel said, a smirk on his face.
"Indeed, my effeminate fellow." Alastor chuckled. "(Y/n) and I really had a good time... A very good one," he said, eyeing Lucifer, a mischievous grin on his face. Suddenly, he turned to completely face him, raising an eyebrow.
"The fuck is it now?" Lucifer asked.
"Oh my friend, it's nothing really. Though, I must say, it seems you found our little performance… enthralling."
Your face got bright red as you noticed the tent in Lucifer's pants. "Ah, fuck it..." you mumbled as he got all flustered too, the only sound filling the room being Angel's hysterical laughter.
Alastor approached you, a proud smile on his face. "I think we need to make a point again, dear," he murmured, his voice laced with dark amusement, as he placed a kiss on your forehead.
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Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @xalygatorx @martinys-world @alastorthirsty @diffidentphantom @itsaubreyofcc @n0tmentallystable @lettuce-frog16
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crappymixtape · 2 months
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come a little closer
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REQUEST → dear nonny, SUMMER BLURB PARTY ❝ 💬 prompt 58, “do i make you nervous?” where steve and reader are more acquaintances and have mutual friends? – tina invites you to a party while her parents are out of town, but aren’t you too old for this shit? and then you run into steve and, god you wished you’d said no • +18 ( a little king!steve, a little spice, a little frenemies and a little fluff • steve harrington x reader )
C O M E A L I T T L E C L O S E R 🎶 waiting for a girl like you, foreigner
This was easily the stupidest decision you’d ever made, telling Tina you’d come to her party and then actually showing up. Because you were too old for this shit. Because you’d been out of high school for a few years now and who partied like this anymore?
You shot Eddie and Robin a glare as they stood next to you snickering under their breaths. They’d dragged you along with everyone else to crowd down in the basement and wait outside a closet door to see if Tommy and Carol would ever come out.
Seven minutes in Heaven. The most asinine game of all time, but everyone was eating it up. It’d been well over seven minutes and you were tired of hanging out with a bunch of old high school acquaintances.
“I’m leaving,” you hissed at Eddie and he grabbed at your hand with ringed fingers.
“No, not yet,” came out in a whine, looking down at you with big, brown, puppy dog eyes.
“There is no way in hell I’m going in that closet.”
Eddie grinned, smile lines creasing his cheeks. “C’mon, it’s not that bad.”
“Eds, you need glasses. Look at this,” you waved an arm around at the potential candidates you’d have the ‘pleasure’ of sharing a small, dark, linen closet with.
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “The worst is already in there,” he teased, “’sides, Harrington’s here.”
Harrington.
“Don’t even think about it,” you muttered and he grinned even wider.
“What? He’s nice now. Saved my ass more than a few times,” Eddie protested and you rolled your eyes.
“Absolutely not.”
Steve Harrington and his stupid member’s only jacket and perfectly coiffed hair and million dollar smile, the one that could – apparently – bag any girl he wanted. It had boggled your mind when Robin told you she’d made a new friend, Steve Harrington, can you believe it?? No, you couldn’t. Since when did King Steve buddy up with band geeks? A few shifts at Scoops Ahoy and you were already playing second fiddle to some asshole jock.
Well, not today. You didn’t need this.
Shooting back the last of the whiskey sour in your cup you gave the handle of the door one last glance and shook your head – stupid – but when you moved to leave the crowd gave a whoop.
“Shit, Tommy!” “Carol, oh my god, how was it??” “Did you find heaven?” “Gross!”
Tommy emerged from the closet triumphant, pumping a fist in the air with Carol under his arm, cheeks flushed and a big grin on her face. Everyone was eating it up and the thought of having to go in there with someone, anyone, made your stomach flip over.
“Eds, I’m going–”
“No–Sweetheart, stay!” he begged, nudging Robin with his elbow, “Right, Robs?”
“Are you kidding? No, you can’t leave. This is just getting good! What, are you nervous or something? Oh my god, you are! What’re you nervous about? Is it cos Peter Townsend is here? He’s so not your type–”
“Robin,” you hissed, cheeks flushed as every pair of eyes in the room settled on you.
“Wha–oh,” Robin chuckled and pasted on a piss poor excuse for a smile.
“You can’t go now,” Carol purred from under Tommy’s arm, “You’re up next, hon.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This wasn’t happening.
“Sorry, I have to be up early tomorrow for work and–”
“It’s only seven minutes,” Tommy sneered, the grin on his mouth pulling up at the edges – a shark with blood in the water.
You couldn’t breathe, air sucked out of your lungs as your grasped at straws, trying to muster up another excuse. You desperately looked to Robin and Eddie for help, but they were too busy whispering and giggling at your expense and your cheeks burned.
“Fine,” you pushed, trying your best to sound unbothered, chin tipped up in defiance.
“That’s more like it,” Tommy said with a whoop, rubbing his hands together, “And while you were too busy arguing with tweedle dee and dum over there we all decided you’re in with Harrington.”
Your stomach lurched dangerously, queasy and full of dread.
“But, I thought you were supposed to spin–”
“Nah, we put it to a vote,” Carol cut you off picking at her nails, “Better not keep him waiting.”
Keep him waiting? Your eyes frantically searched the sea of faces staring at you, but Steve wasn’t among them. When your gaze finally settled on the closet you saw it was just barely cracked, a shadowy figure shifting in the inky black just beyond.
You thought you were going to be sick, but you weren’t about to be made into a wuss. Turning to Eddie you grabbed his beer and chugged it in one go, then finished off whatever was in Robin’s cup too, shit, easy sweetheart.
“You’re on the clock,” Tommy goaded as Carol took hold of your hand and tugged you toward the closet.
“Have fun,” she teased, voice sing-songy, shoving you through the door and shutting it behind you, plunging you into darkness.
❝ MAYBE I’M WRONG, WON’T YOU TELL ME IF I’M COMING ON TOO STRONG?
Your eyes strained against the black of the small room, your body all too aware of there being someone else in there with you. It made the air thick, too warm and too close and the booze swimming through your veins had you feeling on edge.
“Thought you were gonna stand me up.”
Steve’s voice broke the tension and you jumped at the sudden noise, pulse fluttering against your neck.
“You’re lucky I didn’t,” you cut back, trying to stick to your guns, but then he shifted a little closer, his breath warming over you cheek, and it melted whatever resolve you had left.
“Ouch,” he half-laughed, arm brushing yours as he rocked on his feet.
It was slow, but your eyes were adjusting, dense black shadows blurring into soft indigos and violets and Steve’s face swam into focus. Thick, dark lashes framing warm, hazel eyes, the strong slope of his jaw, moles chasing across his neck and cheeks and that dumb grin. The one he was giving you now.
"This is stupid,” you muttered and Steve laughed, tutting at you.
“You didn't have to come, you know,” he teased and you gifted him with a particularly bratty eye roll.
“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” you snarked and it pulled the corners of his mouth up into a tiny grin.
“At the time, huh? Not anymore?”
You scoffed, shook your head and folded your arms over your chest, but the words wouldn't come. Stuck in your throat at the way you could feel the warmth of Steve's chest lingering just a few inches away, the scent of his cologne making you dizzy, hazy at the edges and all of a sudden unsure.
Shifting on his feet, Steve's toes bumped into yours as he put a hand on the wall next to your ear and leaned a little closer.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked, his voice notched a little lower, closer, closer, closer, and it made something in your belly twist.
“Nervous?” you huffed a weak laugh, “Keep your pants on, Harrington. I don’t even know you.”
“D'you want to?” Your breath caught in your throat as he crowded over you and lifted a hand to tuck your flyaways behind your ear. “You can obviously do whatever you want, but–” his tongue flicked out to chase along his lower lip and heat pooled in your belly at the thought of what he might taste like, “–aren’t you a little curious?”
“Curious?” you breathed, voice barely above a whisper and he nodded softly.
“Yeah, what it would be like.”
You’d been in classes him with since grade school, watched as he won everyone over for popularity in middle school and shot to the top of the social pyramid in high school all while you lingered down at the bottom with Eddie and Robin and Jonathan, but you couldn’t deny it. Of course you’d looked at him just a little too long, eyes stuck on the way his Levi’s hugged in all the right places, heart racing when he smiled at you from down the hall.
“To kiss you?” you asked and he hummed, a low rumble in his chest.
“Only if you want to,” came out strained, a strangled sound as he pushed the words from his lips and you found yourself arching into him.
“I–” you started, lashes fluttering atop your cheeks, “–I want to.”
And Steve wanted it too, hadn’t realized just how down bad he was for you. You in those jeans. You and the way you seemed immune to his charms. You and your confidence and fire and disregard for everything ‘cool’ or ‘trendy.’
“You sure?” he asked again, body tensing as your hips bumped into his, jaw ticking as he bit down on the heat swelling his chest.
“Kiss me,” you whispered and he felt himself unravel at the way your voice edged on needy, a little desperate, a little bossy and God – you were hot.
His free hand moved to rest on your waist, fingers pressing into the plush of your hip, breaths falling heavy between you as he leaned down, down, down to capture your bottom lip between his and it was like a rubber band snapping.
Years worth of tension pulling and stretching and straining as you both played it all off like nothing. Like you didn’t care. The thought of you being with each other like this a joke, but the only people you were fooling was yourselves.
Steve tugged at your bottom lip and it pulled a sound from your throat that put him in the palm of your hand — soft, pliable, yours. He dropped his hand from the wall to grab at your other hip and you teetered a little off balance, grabbing at his shoulders to steady yourself.
Your arms looped around his neck too easy then, like they’d been doing it for years, like they’d mapped the curve of his neck and muscles pulled taut across his back a thousand times. Pressing your tongue to the seam of his lips he opened to you and you licked into him, tasted spearmint, cheap beer, Steve, and you wanted more.
He slotted a knee between your thighs and you gasped, a lovely pretty sound he wished he could keep forever, keening for him as he pressed your back into the wall. Parted your lips with a pop and dragged messy, open-mouthed kissed down your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder–
“Harrington, is your watch broken? Jesus it’s been like ten min–”
“Shit,” Steve stumbled away from you into the shelves full of towels as Tommy yarded the closet door open, the sight of you two dropping his mouth into a little ‘o’. Hair messed, foreheads dewy with sweat, lips kiss-bitten and a hicky sucked to your neck.
“My bad, did you need another seven?” Tommy grinned.
Head leaned back against the shelves, Steve squeezed his eyes shut, chin tipped up as he pushed a heavy sigh from his lungs and all too aware of the way the crotch of his jeans was way too tight.
“Yeah, maybe,” Steve hissed, hands tangled in his hair and it made you laugh. A soft, little thing without any heat behind it, cheeks flushed and pink.
“It’s all good, Hagan,” came out easy, confidence swelling where Steve’s had deflated, “We can finish it in the car.”
And God, Steve would’ve made a mess of his pants right then and there if you hadn’t pulled him from the closet and up the stairs out to your bronco with a bench seat more than wide enough to fit two people on top of it, more than confident you wouldn’t need another seven minutes.
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️
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juletheghoul · 6 months
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Castaways (Part 1)
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AN: Before I get into the notes for this - I want to say a quick thank you to everyone who took the time to send me a message / comment on my post, it meant a lot to me. 💜💜💜 As for this story, I started writing it in Sept of 2022, after watching the Harrison Ford movie, Six Days, Seven Nights lol. I had a lot of it down pretty quickly but eventually, I stopped. Now that new ideas aren't as bountiful as they once were, I started combing through all of the half-finished works in my docs and I fell back in love with this one. Hopefully you enjoy it. I have an ending planned out so there will definitely be a part 2! Shout out to @wheresarizona for betaing and just general wonderfulness, to @just-here-for-the-moment for screaming at me through comments in this doc. Enjoy xox. 
Pairing; Frankie Morales x f!reader (Princess as a nickname)
Warnings;  C o m p e t e n c y - a very brief snake…encounter?-piv sex (wrap it up), swearing, dirty talk, Frankie eats pussy with gusto (when doesn't he), creampie, longing, yearning, a helicopter crash (nothing too graphic), reader is spoiled at first and generally kind of snobby- enemies to lovers? Bit of a slow burn! let me know if I missed anything.
Word count; 13k 😅
reblogs are appreciated
Masterlist
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The click of your heels sounded throughout the airy hangar with a purpose, the echoing sound of it heralding your journey to give someone—anyone hell. 
A quick flick of your wrist reminds you how late you already were for the retreat booked in your private slice of paradise; the private jet your father paid a fortune for had made an emergency stop in Puerto Rico- some nonsense about a storm. 
Unacceptable. 
An imperious sigh leaves your mouth -not a single person to lay into anywhere in sight, and it leaves you no choice but to head outside to see if there is a plane you could commandeer. 
He wipes the grease onto the legs of his well-worn work coveralls, his previous scowl gone and replaced with a triumphant smile - finally got that fucking bolt off-
“Excuse me-” He turns toward the sound and is greeted by a very annoyed-looking woman. “Hi, do you know where I can find a pilot? There’s no one in the hangar.” She drags a very expensive-looking suitcase behind her with one hand, the other holding a ridiculously large hat onto her head. 
“Hi, yes I’m a pilot - most of the staff have gone home, a big storm coming soon-”
“Perfect, can I hire you to fly me to this island?” Her fingers flew across the no-doubt latest model of smartphone in her hands - ignoring the shocked expression on his face at being so rudely interrupted. “This one here, I need to be there like three hours ago, and I would be there now if we hadn’t stopped here - you know where this is, right? Can you take me?” She all but shoves the phone into his face. 
“No.” He carefully moves her manicured hand away from his face, and a tiny, cruel little part of him enjoys the shock in her expression - he very quickly gets the impression that this girl is not used to hearing the word. “As I was saying - everyone has gone home, a lot of people were grounded here, myself included. There is a big thunderstorm coming. Not safe to fly until it passes. Shouldn’t last too long - a quick squall - come back tomorrow, and I’ll happily fly you there.” He then turns to continue his work. 
“Money is no object, but I need to leave now,” she says it through a huffed breath, and his eyebrows raise. 
“And yet, my answer is still no.” He’s annoyed now. In truth, it was a fairly quick flight - he knew the island she’d shown him, had made the trip before, and it would be less than an hour, but her attitude was a black mark against her. Her phone trills then, a cheery tone, momentarily snatching her attention from him. 
“Hi, Dad, yeah, I know. I’m at the hangar, looking for a ride.” She taps her foot, and it sets his teeth on edge. “There is a pilot here, but he says he won’t fly me.” She narrows her eyes at him when he turns to look at her, listening to the other half of the conversation he wasn’t privy to. “I’ll tell him- Sorry-” She inspects his name tag, “Francisco, my father says if you get me to the island within the hour, he’ll make it worth your while. Name your price.” 
“I don’t know what part of it isn’t safe isn’t registering-” She raises her voice and speaks over him. 
“He’ll pay you ten thousand dollars.” Her tone is loud but bored. “Besides - the skies are gorgeous - I’m sure we can make it before anything happens.” She waits a moment, “Plus another five grand when you land. And you can have accommodations until tomorrow - room service, the works. Just please - get me there.” Her eyes are hopeful, and for a brief moment, he acknowledges how pretty she is, or - would be, if she wasn’t such an insufferable princess.
He knew he should have said no. Knew he should have turned her down and followed the guidelines, but that kind of money would change his life. Change their lives- it would have been insane for him to turn it down. 
“Fine.” He relents, shoving down the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “I’ll be your pilot. We’ll be out of here in ten minutes.” She almost jumps with joy, and he can’t hide the annoyed expression on his face.
“Done - okay, I’ll be there soon, Dad! Bye.”  
-
He was covered in grease. 
You had to remind yourself not to wrinkle your nose at him. You supposed he could be handsome, in a scruffy, working man way, but that's beside the point. He was your saving grace right now, and that counted for a lot.
He fiddles with the engine of the helicopter for a moment more while he leaves you to wrestle your suitcase in by yourself, thankfully without breaking a nail. 
“Alright - just going to perform a couple of checks, and we’ll be in the air.” He got in and began flicking switches, turning knobs, and checking over all manner of gauges while you made yourself as comfortable as was possible in the cramped little aircraft. It was hard, though, with your suitcase practically digging into your back behind you. 
It’s fine. I’ll just have to get a massage once I land.
“Okay, we’re off.” He has his headset on, and you are in the air within a few moments. That, unfortunately, seemed to be the end of your good luck. 
Whether by some cruel design, by the fates or gods, or whatever entity dictated the events of your life - it didn’t take twenty minutes in the air for the sky to turn a foreboding gray. 
“That doesn’t look good,” he says, the words loud enough to be heard over the noise, his eyes quickly scanning the horizon, no doubt taking in the dark clouds flanking either side of the already rickety helicopter. 
“It came out of nowhere.” One minute, the sky was blue, and the next, lightning forked the sky in the distance. 
“No, it didn’t - I told you a storm was coming. This is too dangerous - I’m going to have to turn around for our safety.” He maneuvers the controls, and you have no choice but to agree despite your annoyance.
It all happened so fast. 
Something strikes the aircraft, the sound of it booming in your ears so loud it hurts, and then he’s frantic. Manically pressing buttons and calling through the radio, but from the frustrated and frankly terrified expression, no one is answering. 
“Fuck, tighten your seatbelt, we’re going down!” He grits his teeth, and all of a sudden, you are spinning, a scream being ripped from your throat - your heart falling out of your ass. “Impact coming - brace yourself!” he screams before the world goes black. 
-
Someone is making noise, a low groaning noise that pulls him out from the depths of unconsciousness, he’s only mildly surprised to realize it is him.
The helicopter - his helicopter wasn’t making any noise, which was bad. 
Under normal circumstances, it would be broadcasting out a signal beacon that would bring in a rescue team, but as it stood right now - without blinking lights or a working radio - it had gone completely silent. 
Lighting must have fried it. Fuck.
He took stock of his situation. Luckily, he doesn’t feel any injuries aside from horrible whiplash. No blood, no broken bones. A softer groan comes from the woman beside him; she’s still out, and he couldn’t see any injuries- he’d know when she woke up. 
I could kill you right now.
He thought the words, sighing loudly to himself before finding a way out of the cockpit. He’d managed to move most of what he had in the helicopter out onto the sand by the time she woke. 
“Jesus Christ - what the hell happened?” She stumbles out, barely managing to stop herself from eating shit in the process, unfortunately.
“What happened is the storm I warned you about many times caught us in the air and grounded us here.” He’s laying out his supplies, lengths of rope, his toolbox, and empty water jugs. He has a small case with a flare gun, an emergency kit filled with first aid supplies, and a massive tarp. There are a few more things to go through, but it is important they find a source of freshwater soon, or they won’t last two days, especially with the heat making his clothes stick to his body.
She sighs loudly, struggling to make her way through the sand in those ridiculous heels she’s wearing
“And now we’re stuck here, on an island when, where I should be, is home with my-“ 
“Can’t you call mayday or something? My father is expecting me. I’m sure he’ll have an army looking for us.” She’s digging through her purse frantically, ignoring the scathing look he’s giving her.
Spoiled little brat, you only care about yourself, huh?
“Wow. You know what? That’s a great idea! Why the hell didn’t I think of that?” He can’t hold back. “Oh! I know, it’s because we were struck by lightning, and it fried everything, so whatever army your father sends won’t find us -there is no signal to hone in on.” He scowls at her, annoyed that she isn’t paying attention to him even now. “Doesn’t help that a lot of these islands that are usually full of tourists are uninhabited after the hurricane that hit a few months ago.”
“So we’re stuck here???” Her eyes are wild as they look past him, to the beach just beyond, and then to the thick greenery behind them. “This cannot be happening right now,” she spoke to herself. 
“Where the fuck is my phone??” She moves and makes her way back into the cockpit, all but ripping the aircraft apart before- “Fuck! You have got to be fucking kidding me! Don’t you have some kind of satellite phone or something??” She’s tapping at the deeply damaged screen, it completely destroyed. 
He couldn’t help but bark out cruel laughter. 
“I don’t know what planet you’re on. People - regular people don’t just have satellite phones, sweetheart.” He got up from his place in the sand, making sure to put the flares back in the helicopter.
“Great. Just great.” She sighs loudly, “So we’re stuck here. Do you even know where here is?” She fishes into her bag once more, pulling out a bottle of what looks to be sunscreen, and squeezing out some to spread over her exposed skin. 
“No. I don’t, but the heat is going to kill us if we don’t find water soon. Grab one of those jugs, and let’s go find water. You might want to change your shoes.” He pushes her suitcase at her, ignoring the shocked look on her face. “Chop chop, princess, let’s move.” 
-
This couldn’t be happening, this could not be happening!
Right now, you should have been mingling with Louis, the gorgeous, billionaire bachelor your father invited to your private resort. You could almost picture it, the classy yet sexy outfit you’d be wearing while you flirted over a drink by the infinity pool. Broadening your horizons and nailing down the rich husband you deserve.
Instead, you’re here - stuck in the sand with the world's grumpiest pilot, trying desperately to get your phone to work, but it’s no use. 
You can almost see the frantic look on your mother's face now that it was obvious that you hadn’t made it at the scheduled time, she and your father were probably coordinating with the military right this second, with the Navy.
What the fuck am I going to do-
The jug hits your lap, scaring you half to death.
“Come on, princess, let’s get moving. We have to find fresh water before we die of dehydration out here.” He’s standing a few feet away, staring at you with his perpetual scowl. “Change your shoes, and let’s go.”
“What’s wrong with my shoes?” They were pretty sensible as far as your sandals went, respectable heels, and relatively comfortable. His scowl deepens.
“You cannot stumble around the island in those, you’ll break an ankle, and I am not fucking dealing with that.” His eyes narrow. “Tell me you brought a pair of runners in that giant trunk.”
“Of course I did,” your tone is icy as you get up with a huff. You quickly changed into them, and then you were off. 
The terrain got more and more treacherous the further you got from the powdery white sand of the beach. Dirt and bramble gave way to thick, almost jungle-like vegetation, making the trek harder and harder as time slogged by. 
The sound of running water greets the two of you like a siren song, spurring your tired, sweat-soaked body to move quicker, and the sight that meets you once you break the dense treeline could've made you moan. You jump into the water to cool your heated skin, ignoring the warning from Francisco. 
“You should get out of there.” He’s at the edge of the clearish water, filling the jugs quickly.
He seems to be determined to infuse his sour attitude into everything, your mouth opened to tell him to relax when something brushes past your leg. At first, you think it might be a piece of underwater flora, but it becomes apparent very quickly that it’s something far worse. 
“Francisco.” His eyes met yours, “Francisco, something just swam into my shorts, I-I think it’s a snake.” Your voice trembles slightly, hands itching to pull whatever it was out, but his voice cuts through the urge.
“Don’t move- are you sure it’s a snake?” He put the jugs down beside him, moving closer to you, descending slowly into the water.
“Yes, It’s coiling around my thigh, moving up - I need it out right now, I wanna just grab it-“ Your head tilts down, but he stops you.
“Don’t move! It could be venomous.” He wades into the water towards you slowly, too slowly. Your heart’s racing, hands shaking as you wait for him to reach you.
“Help me, get it out, get it out!” your voice is almost manic, desperation colouring every single inch of you. 
“Okay, okay, calm - deep breath.” You followed his example as best you could, trying yet failing to ignore the slithering against your skin. “Slowly pull your waistband away from your body, and I’ll see if I can grab it,” his tone had lowered, a soothing timbre reminding you for a moment of how a teacher would speak to a student. 
It helps.
You did as he asked, pulling at the waistband of your shorts, all thoughts of propriety forgotten, and within a moment, his hand was shoved down deep - a rather large hand fighting with whatever it was that had made camp in your pants. 
He bit his lip in concentration, bodily pulling you towards him as he struggled. A moment later, he was raising it up triumphantly.
A huge shiver went down your spine at the sight of it, spurring you to get out of the water as fast as humanly possible. 
“Jesus Christ, it’s just one fucking thing after another,” you spoke as you made it out without incident, ignoring the huge sigh he let out behind you. “Thank you for that.” He was following closely behind you, not interested, it seemed, in having a similar experience.
“Don’t mention it. Let's fill these and get back to the beach.” He hands you a couple of empty jugs, and you reluctantly got to work.
-
All things considered, they were lucky. Frankie knew that. His helicopter - albeit small - was surprisingly well-equipped to handle being stranded. He had an emergency survival kit, purchased partly under the insistence of his mother but mostly so he never had to relive what had happened to him a few years ago. He’d tried not to think about it, but walking through the foliage back to the crash site had brought it all back. Vividly. 
He pushed it away, shoved it down deep where he kept the rest of his issues - instead choosing to focus on what they needed to do. They needed some form of shelter, and soon. 
“I am sweltering,” her voice was low behind him, whiny with the distinct tone of someone who had never truly been uncomfortable a day in her life. “Fucking starving.” 
“Most likely, you’re dehydrated. Once we get back to the beach, we can figure out the water,” he spoke over his shoulder. “Have to make camp if we’re going to be here for a while.” They broke through the treeline, seeing his helicopter on the beach like a pile of old bones broke his heart a little - his only connection to home, to his little girl. He pushes it all away again. 
“So how do we get this water drinkable?” she huffs out the words, dropping the jugs next to his laid-out supplies with great effort. 
“We have to set up a purifying system, filter it, and then boil it.” He crouches down towards his supplies, looking for something clean he could use as a sieve. Luckily, he always kept an overnight bag with him, in case of being grounded somewhere, but he only had three shirts in there, he couldn’t burn one since he didn’t know exactly how long they’d be stuck there. 
“I don’t have much in terms of clothes - you got anything we could use?” He looks up at her, “Something simple, a cotton t-shirt? Something we could use to strain the water.” He walks towards her trunk, waiting for her to open it up. 
She opens it reluctantly, rifling through her things for a moment before handing over a simple white shirt. “Any chance I’ll be able to wear that again?” her voice is vaguely annoyed. 
“I’m sure Daddy won’t mind buying you a new one.” She gives him an expression that could curdle milk. He ignores it. Instead, he busies himself, setting the jugs of water somewhere relatively level. He felt her eyes on him, and it compelled him to explain what he did as he worked. “We have to let the water settle for about an hour, let the sediment sink to the bottom, then strain it, then boil it.” Not for the first time in his life, he was happy to have his military gear within reach. 
-
He works fast - you have to give him that. 
As much as he grumbles and looks at you like you are the devil incarnate - you couldn’t deny that he was incredibly intelligent. Within a few hours of getting back to the camp, he had built an impressive fire, filtered the jugs of water, and had boiled most of it. 
“Tomorrow, we’ll get to work building some sort of shelter,” he spoke after he finally sat down, the first break he’d taken all day. “Have to go about looking for food too, I saw some fruit trees - we’ll grab them on the way back from getting more water.” His eyes are heavy, you can see it in the way he blinked slower and slower. 
“We have to make that trek again?” your voice is shrill, he sighs loudly. 
“We’ll have to make that trek every single day until we’re rescued. Water is the most important thing. No delivery service here, princess,” his voice is sleepy, the usual bite in his words softened by the need for sleep. 
“How will anyone find us?” The worry is evident in your voice.
“I have a flare gun and three flares - we’ll be able to signal someone. Go to bed, we have a lot of work to do tomorrow.” He gestures to the helicopter–lovely, this will be comfortable. 
The knock on the helicopter window ripped you out of sleep, your heart racing as you clutched at your chest. 
“Wake up, princess.” He taps on the glass and through bleary eyes, you take note of the smile on his face as he wakes you up, “We have work to do.” He taps one last time and then leaves you. 
You flash him the middle finger as he turns and laughs, annoying you even more.
You join him on the beach a little later, ignoring the ache in your body from sleeping in a half seated position. God I really need that massage.
“I’m going to make the trek for more water, while I do that you are going to gather palm fronds.” He had a jug in his hand as he moved towards the treeline. For a moment you panicked, the thought of being alone causing your heart to sink. 
“Wait, you’re leaving me alone?” You moved a few steps towards him, catching yourself before making it to him. “I mean–um,” You raised your chin at the surprised look on his face, ignoring it. “How many fronds?” There was an abundance of them, both on the ground and in the trees just beyond the sand. He paused, giving you a curious look. 
“As many as you can, we’ll need way more than you think.” He turned then, and left you to it. 
Time crawled by while you were alone, with only your thoughts and the sound of waves to accompany you. Sweat dripped down your brow as you gathered, gathered and gathered some more. Enough fronds that it made a huge pile beside the fire pit Francisco had made. Your stomach growling almost constantly now–the hunger so intense it was making you light headed. 
Branches snapped, drawing your gaze towards his form. He had the jug in one hand and a stalk of bananas in the other. It was enough to make you moan. 
“This is good, but it’s not enough. We have to gather more - have to cut down a bunch of bamboo too.” He put the jug next to the others before joining you where you sat. “Here, you must be starving.” He ripped off a handful of the glorious fruit and tossed them into your lap. 
Nothing had ever tasted so good. 
“Jesus Christ, I thought I would pass out.” You knew you had fruit on your face, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. “Thank you.” You peeled another, eating it just as quickly as the first. 
“Don’t mention it. Okay, let's get to work.” 
-
Your fingers were sore, your back was sore, every single part of you was sore. Hours crawled by with the sun beating down on you both as you weaved fronds together. He had you create sheets and sheets of it, had you help him cut down enough bamboo to build a house. He did the heavy lifting and made what looked like a crude rope tying together the bamboo in layers strong enough to hold both of you. 
Wordlessly, he worked, the sweat dripping down his face, soaking through his shirt like a marathon runner until it was a hindrance and he took it off, used it as a rag that hung limp over his shoulders. This was much worse than a marathon, though, much worse than any workout you’d ever done in your life, and although you’d never say it out loud, you were incredibly thankful he was here. 
I probably would have died by now. 
It was a terrifying thought that without him, you wouldn’t survive - you shoved it away. It wouldn’t matter soon because your parents would be looking, and they wouldn’t stop until they found you.
“Come lay on this, I want to see if it’ll hold both of us.” He stood over the platform, laying on it as you came closer. It held. “Perfect. We’ll be elevated off the sand, less chance of bugs or crabs biting us, and it’ll be cooler than the helicopter.” He let out a weary, tired sigh.
“You’re expecting us both to sleep on this?” You couldn’t help your tone, and instantly you felt bad. He’d worked very hard on this. His brow furrowed. 
“You’re welcome to sleep where you want. I’ll be on this.” He got up, his scowl now back in place, “I’m going to finish here and then go fishing. Keep weaving.” 
Quietly, you got back to work.
-
In all his years, Francisco had never met someone so spoiled and self-serving - even though he’d expected it from her, it still hurt. He didn’t know why - why it would matter that some spoiled rich brat was acting like a spoiled rich brat; maybe it was the lack of gratitude. He was useful, he was smart and he had skills that he knew for a fact she’d die without. 
He stewed over it as he swam towards a large boulder protruding out of the water near the shore. A perfect spot to catch the fish that swam around in the reef below the surface. 
I should let her starve. Find her own food and her own water.
He wouldn’t, though, he couldn’t. All his life, he’d been taught to be a good person, to help where he could and after what had happened in that jungle - he shook it off, pushed it down. Ignored the cruel, petty voice in his head and set about catching something to eat. All the while keeping an eye on the horizon for a boat - for any sign that people were looking for him. That his people were looking for him. 
He let himself think about them, really think about them for the first time since the crash. His parents, his little girl, let himself feel the emptiness of being without them. He let the waves of it crash over him just as the ocean around him crashed into the shore, and then he put it away. 
She was still working when he came back with his catch, her face scrunched up in concentration - ignoring her, he went about doing what needed to be done.
“Is this enough?” Her voice cut through his concentration, and he nodded noncommittally - leaving the prepped fish on a relatively clean piece of driftwood he’d found.
“Hold this.” He stood at the corner of the raised bed and had her hold a tall, sturdy piece of bamboo. His plan was to make a small frame around the base, use the tarp in order to waterproof it, and lay the fronds all around to protect them from the winds that blew through here in bad weather.  
She watched him work in silence, standing where he told her to stand, holding what he told her to hold and eventually, finally - they finished. It was as solid a structure as he could manage without planks of wood or nails, strong enough to survive against a moderate storm and to keep them off the sand. 
He’d used the tarp to cover the roof and three sides, leaving one open for them - him to enter. On top were rows of fronds to catch rainwater and prevent it from pooling in the tarp, the rest of the unused woven sheets she’d made laid inside to use as bedding. With the emergency blanket and his military bedroll this would make a decent bed.
All in all, he was proud of himself, he took the raw materials he’d found on this island, and fashioned himself – themselves a shelter. 
His stomach growled. It was time to start that fire.
-
Your stomach was screaming out in hunger. The bananas had been wonderful, but they weren’t enough. 
“Are you sure that’s safe to eat?” You watched him wrap the fish in banana leaves and put it into red hot embers; you couldn’t help but be slightly dubious about eating something he’d just pulled out of the ocean. He sighed loudly before answering.
“You don’t have to eat it,” he sounded tired, and you supposed he must have been with how hard he’d worked. “It’s edible. I’ve caught this fish before.” He wiped at his brow with the shirt around his shoulders, his skin slightly pink from the sun. 
You didn’t say anything, still unsure, but when the time came for him to unwrap the blackened leaves, your stomach growled loudly. It looked very good. 
He didn’t offer any, instead, he snatched a piece of the steaming, flaky fish and popped it into his mouth, relishing the taste with a loud groan and a big smile. A nice smile, in truth. 
“Maybe I’ll try a little bit.” You scooted closer to where he sat in the sand, unable to resist it.
“Here, careful - it’s very hot.” He tore a piece of a fresh banana leaf and gave you a decently sized filet, and with singed fingers and zero patience, you took a bite.
It was, without a doubt, the most delicious thing you’d ever eaten. 
“Good?” He ate quickly, his expression amused at your very obvious enjoyment of the ‘dubious’ fish. 
“It’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever had.” You meant every word, and licked every last morsel off your fingers.
It was incredibly dark by the time the food was eaten, and the fire had died out. Francisco was attaching a piece of netting to the open side, and once he was done, he climbed in without another word. 
The helicopter felt safe, enclosed and a space you could lock, but the shelter would have airflow. It would be infinitely cooler to sleep in. You knew that, eventually that helicopter would turn into a greenhouse that felt more like an oven. Not to mention how horrible it was to sleep sitting up. 
Every second that passed made the shelter look more and more appealing, and after quickly changing into clean clothes, you slipped in silently, but it didn’t even matter, he was already asleep.
He woke to the feeling of soft breath on his back, the air was significantly cooler than it had been during midday, and now, in the early dawn of the morning she was seeking him out for warmth. It was in him to pull away, to deny her, but instead, he stayed motionless. Let her even breath comfort him for a few moments before he eventually rose to bathe in the ocean. Her hand was draped around his middle, pressing herself flat to him while she slept, completely oblivious.
He thought about how scandalized she’d be to know she was being so intimate with him; it almost made him laugh, but soon, that internalized mirth shifted to something bitter, something close to anger. He was only too aware that when she looked at him, she saw ‘the help’; someone like her could never see him as anything other than someone else to pay off, the person hired to do things below her. She shifted in her sleep, burrowing closer, her soft puffs of air ruffling the hair curling at the base of his skull. 
Why does that bother me? I don’t even care about this person.
He sighed, confused with himself over these baffling feelings of inadequacy, frustrated that being close to another person felt good. Annoyed that he didn’t want to pull away - no matter how much of a brat she was. If she woke now and saw them tangled, she’d be embarrassed, perhaps even disgusted, he knew this for a certainty. So he left her.
-
Dawn found you almost frustratingly well-rested, as well as alone. All doubts that may have lingered about the craftsmanship of the shelter evaporated like the morning dew. A long, much-needed stretch is the catalyst that moves you out of the shelter, making sure to close the netting on your way to grab your toiletry bag when he catches your eye from his place in the water. The early morning sun lit up the surface like diamonds. He was running his hands through his hair, wringing out the shirt he’d been wearing the day before. His skin was golden, the high planes of his face kissed by the sun's rays, his shoulders too. You watched him for a time, unable to ignore the breadth of his shoulders - the pleasant sight of his thighs and it was hard not to stare at him when he rose out of the water, the droplets from his golden skin casting a sort of spell on their way back down to earth.
His hands were something else altogether, weaving their own magic the closer he came to shore, from the way they wrung out the shirt easily to the way they adjusted his considerable bulge as he walked, and you looked away quickly, ignoring the curious heat crawling up your chest. 
He found you brushing your teeth, pointedly looking away. 
“I’m going to go look for more fruit.” He spoke as he put the wrung-out shirt to dry next to some of the other things he’d washed before changing out of his wet boxers behind the cover of the helicopter. “You should gather more firewood, things to burn for tonight.”  When he came back around, he was dressed in a clean white tee and a pair of shorts. Looking for all the world like a man on vacation. 
“I’m coming with you.” You rose from your place in the sand quickly, shuffling to reach him before he left you. “I’d rather not wait around.”
“Fine, come on then.” With that, you both set off into the trees.
The morning was full of birdsong and sunlight, bright buttery shafts of it cutting through the trees while the former echoed around you. 
“This would be a gorgeous place to vacation.” He echoed your thoughts as you followed a faint path in the brush. 
“I guess, would need a vast improvement.” Like a hotel, and an actual landing strip maybe. He laughed low, his eyes looking high into the trees.
“I don’t know, I don’t mind it being a bit rustic.” He pointed ahead, a few coconut trees catching his attention.
“This is more than a bit rustic I’d say. God I can’t wait until my parents find me. I should be by the pool right now, mingling with Louis.” Your palm smacks against the first of surely many bites rising on your skin. 
“That your boyfriend?” He’s serious now, scooping a couple of coconuts from the floor and dropping them into your arms.
“No, but he should be. He’s an insanely wealthy man my father invited to our private island, where I should be right now.” You sighed loudly, annoyed at the situation all over again. “Soon. Soon, I will be back where I belong. God, my mother is probably worried sick, you know?” You stood there, holding onto the coconuts he stacked in your arms before moving on to find more fruit.
“Sure.” He all but grunts, moving carefully through the brush. “I get it-“
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the military is out searching for me right now.” An image of handsome Louis frantically joining the search with your parents makes your stomach flip. 
I wonder if he is worried about me?
“Focus.” His voice rips you out of your daydream. “Let’s grab some more bananas, and head back.” He seems annoyed - he’s always annoyed.
“I hate this.” Your arms ache from holding the heavy coconuts. “Shouldn’t we be building a signal fire or something?” You can hear the whining tone, but you can’t stop it. Must everything be so hard?
“And just what are we meant to signal? Seen a bunch of planes, have you?” His tone is icy, his expression angry. “Cruise ships sailing by us every hour?” He finds a banana tree and cuts down a stalk, his movements aggressive.
“Well no-“
“Exactly. We’re on our own, which means until the military or whoever is looking for you finds this island- we have to work.” He props the bananas against his shoulder and turns back towards the camp, pointedly ignoring the way you struggle to keep up with him. 
-
You’re already covered in sweat by the time you make it back to camp, breathing hard and soaking through your clothes.
“Jesus Christ, I cannot with these things.” You dump the coconuts next to the water jugs, shaking out your aching limbs. He sets the bananas next to them before moving to grab some firewood from the tree line. Your eyes scan the beach, the waves gently lapping at the shore; it would be pretty enough without the eye sore that is the helicopter.
“I cannot wait to be away from this hunk of junk.” His movements stop at your words.
“That hunk of junk was my entire fucking livelihood. I don’t have a rich daddy to just buy me a new one.” He tosses the wood pieces angrily into the pit, ignoring the recoil his tone inspired. “Not everyone has it so easy, princess.”
“No, I guess they don’t, sorry-“ he spoke over you.
“Forget it.” He let out a sigh. “Let’s just do what we can to survive until someone finds us.” His expression was cold, and you can’t help the guilt that blooms in the pit of your stomach.
“Sounds good.” The rest of the day passed by in silence.
The days both fly, and crawl by and Frankie works each and every one of them. He works to find them food, he works to reinforce their shelter - to make them as comfortable as he possibly can, all while trying his hardest not to lose his mind. The picture of his little girl burned a hole in his heart when he looked at it each night. He only hoped she knew he’d come back to her.
Being stuck on an island by himself would have been bad enough; the loneliness, the isolation would no doubt be detrimental to his mental health, to his hopes of being found, but this? This had to be worse.
She helped, but only because he pushed her to. He knew that if it were up to her - they would have long since starved. He watched her as he braided more palm fronds to pad the sleeping platform, she was washing some of the clothes she’d worn as best she could, and he couldn’t help but admit that she was pretty. Her face was pleasant to look at when her nose wasn’t turned up. He can’t help but like the shape of her, imagining her skin would be soft and silky - he’d definitely been on this island too long. 
Doesn’t matter how attractive she is, she doesn’t want you, and you don’t want her.
He didn’t know if he was reminding himself, or convincing himself. 
A noise in the treeline behind him stops him mid-braid and for a moment, he thinks there might be someone else on the island, but he realizes what it is and grabs his knife. If he plays this right, tonight they’d eat like kings. 
-
A new appreciation was born of having to wash your own clothes, for electricity, for washing machines and dryers, for Tide pods. For the maids who did your laundry and for the people who did your drycleaning, for the neat drawers full of clean clothes waiting at home. 
For now, these would have to do. They wouldn’t smell like your favourite fabric softener, but they’d be clean enough to wear here at least. Francisco had set up a makeshift laundry line from the helicopter to a leaning palm tree, his things hanging as you added your own, and you briefly considered folding his things for him when his absence caught your attention. 
“Francisco?” you called out to him, ignoring the way your heart raced. Usually, when he went off to get water or fruit, he let you know; it was unlike him to leave without a word. There had to be a reason. He wouldn’t just abandon you, would he? 
Grab a hold of yourself, where the hell would he even go?
He crashed through the trees, triumphant and laughing, and you shoved away the altogether too-big feeling of relief that washed over you to see him. 
“Good news, Princess, there’s wild boar on the island.” It was the happiest you’d seen him, well, ever. “It’ll be hard, but I think I can catch one.” He was making his way towards his supplies, and very quickly, the relief turned to dread. “We’re going to feast-”
“You’re going to kill a wild pig?” It was very hard to keep the worry out of your tone, or off your face. 
“What’s the matter, never had pork chops?” He frowned now, his hands on his hips facing you. 
“I mean, yeah, but this is a little different than going to a butcher and grabbing a few chops. You’re going to hunt down the animal and kill it? I’m not into that. I don’t know if I could eat it.” He narrowed his eyes at you, no doubt preparing to rip you a new one. “It’s also incredibly dangerous - they have a tendency to gore people.” His expression changed at that, real consequences seemed to get through to him. 
“I mean, it’s not that different, but fine.” The wind had gone out of his sails, “I’ll see if I can catch something in the water - you okay with that?” He grabbed his fishing gear, raising an eyebrow, and you nodded before he made his way towards the water. You knew he was probably cursing you for ruining whatever he imagined cooking, but still, you couldn’t help but consider it a victory. 
Babe, the pig wouldn’t be dying on your watch, and neither would he. Instead, he returned to the camp a few hours later with a fish, a few crabs, and a look that said you better not have any complaints. You didn’t. None that you’d say out loud anyway.
Dinner was a quiet affair, tasty and filling with the fish and the added protein; you both went to sleep full, and ungored. 
-
Something loud dragged you up and out of the haze of sleep. It was still dark, and the sun had not risen yet. The sound was definitely something loud - probably just a plane. You shot up, scrambling out of the shelter to see if what you were hearing was real, Francisco barely moved. 
It was high up, but it was definitely a plane. 
“Francisco! There’s a plane. Where are the flares?” You all but barrelled into the shelter to shake him out of his dreams. 
“Hmmm, tired baby.” He was out of it but strong when he pulled you closer - you ignored the way your stomach flipped on its ass at his pet name. 
“Francisco, let me go, there’s a plane!” You smacked at his face lightly, just enough to wake him up.
“Huh? A plane?” your words broke through his sleep-addled brain, and he shot up. “What kind of plane?” He was out and grabbing at his bag momentarily before he swore loudly, a sigh filling the quiet of the dawn. “You called me for a commercial plane? You didn’t actually fire a flare, did you?” The blood drained from his face momentarily.
“No, I would have, but I didn’t know where you put the flare gun.” You frowned at him, annoyed. “I thought they’d see it.”
“Thank Christ.” He took a deep breath, his hands on his hips, “That Is a commercial flight, and if you’d fired the flare, it would have not only been a waste of a flare, but you could have burned the shelter down, could have ruined our supplies.” He seemed angry, and that, in turn, pissed you off. 
“I didn’t think about that, I was trying to help-“ You crossed your arms, ignoring the annoyed look on his face.
“With the altitude that plane has, it wouldn’t matter if we had a thousand flares; come to me before you try to signal anyone, got it Princess?” He didn’t wait for a response, instead, he got back into bed and didn’t mention the incident again. 
You got back into the shelter, laying in the pre-dawn glow - conflicting feelings fighting for dominance within you. You stared at his back, at the soft curl of hair he wore like a halo, and the fluttering of your stomach won out for just a moment. The solid press of him holding you close while still asleep was strangely welcome, although you’d never admit it. His condescending tone came to mind then, he had a habit of speaking down to you, and while you could admit you weren’t the most knowledgeable in survival, you still deserved to be spoken to like an adult. 
You fell asleep fighting the urge to both press yourself close, and smack him upside the head.
-
When morning well and truly came, it found you both in a terrible mood. 
He was quiet, much like he always was when he was annoyed, so you left him with his thoughts and set off to find more fruit through the path you’d both taken to traveling every few days. Luckily, the island was bountiful, and there were plenty of bananas, coconuts, and even some mangoes, but there was only so much you could take and you decided to venture out a bit further, keeping your eyes peeled for something different. 
After a while, you found a berry bush, a small variety you didn’t recognize at once, but they were a very gorgeous, deep purple colour. Thinking he might appreciate a change as much as you, you picked a few handfuls and wrapped them up in a banana leaf before continuing your scavenging. 
This was where your luck ran out, however, and if there were other varieties of fruit, they weren’t for you to find. Instead, you picked up a few mangoes and a coconut on your way back. 
You found him looking through his things from the helicopter, a scowl on his face. 
“Hey, I found some berries-” He looked up at the sound of your voice, his brow furrowed at the smile on your face. “I figured you were probably getting sick of the same fruit we’d been eating. I was hoping to find something else, but no luck.” You set them down in front of him. 
“You didn’t eat this, did you?” his voice was curt and you frowned. 
“No, I thought we could share them-”
“These are toxic.” He tossed them into the sand, burying them with a heavy sigh. “Do me a favour and don’t grab shit you don’t know for sure is edible. You could have made us really sick.” He turned then and continued with his inventory. Embarrassment and annoyance burned through your veins. 
“You don’t have to be such an asshole about it, you know.” The words came on almost by themselves, bubbling up in your throat at the sanctimonious look on his face. 
“What?” He paused and turned to look you in the face. 
“You don’t have to be so fucking mean to me all the time.” You crossed your arms, holding in the frustration that seemed to expand in your lungs like a horrible balloon. “All you do is talk down to me. I said I was sorry about almost using the flare-” He huffed out an almost amused laugh and it boiled your blood. “It’s not funny! I’m stuck out here with you and all you do is yell, or talk to me like I’m stupid. I’m a person, and I deserve basic human decency-”
“What’s my last name?” He crossed his arms, his voice calm, but his question stole the words right out of your mouth. 
“What?” 
“You heard me - what is my last name? What do you know about me? Aside from the fact that my first name is Francisco, and that I’m a pilot.” He stood, knocking the sand off his shorts. 
“I don’t think you told me-”
“No, I haven’t - do you know anything about who might be looking for me? Do you have any idea if I have anyone waiting for me to get home?” Your stomach sank, the anger slowly bleeding away and being replaced with shame. “Any idea if I’m married, or if I have kids?” He’s angry now, the scowl bigger than ever before. 
“No, I-I don’t know.” You took a step back. 
“No. No, you don’t. You don’t know that I’m divorced, that my parents are probably worried sick. You don’t know that I have a daughter, that her name is Tatiana, and that she’s probably thinking her dad abandoned her, or worse - that he’s dead.” You recoiled at that. 
“I didn’t know you had a daughter.” Your voice feels small, and the shame in your belly grows, vines of guilt wrapping themselves around your throat.
“How could you? You’ve never fucking asked me a single thing about who I am as a person! All you’ve done is complain. Complain and talk to me endlessly about how much money your parents have, how you should be on a private island, and how much of a fucking eyesore my livelihood is, and any time I’ve opened my mouth to respond or explain how we’re both stuck here, you’ve spoken over me.” His words cut at you - you don’t know this man at all, and you never ever cared to ask. You don’t respond. 
He was well and truly angry now, kicking sand away from himself in his frustration. 
“I’m sorry-” He put his hands up. 
“Don’t. I don’t need you to apologize. I need you to pull your weight, and maybe realize that I’m also a person, and that all your money means jackshit to me. I need you to treat me like a human being, not just a sounding board.” He walked away, leaving you with your guilt - a sad balloon deflating alone.
-
They were both quiet that night. With Francisco, it was mostly out of anger. The feelings of inadequacy and frustration he’d been bottling up had finally been spoken aloud, and now he was processing them, all while still being stuck on this godforsaken island.
For her, he could see it was pure guilt. From the subdued expression, from her quiet words and general withdrawal, he knew no one had ever been so honest with her before. He would have almost felt guilty, if he hadn’t been so annoyed and hurt at the way she’d treated him. Instead, they both avoided each other for the rest of the night - a silent shared meal before wordlessly falling asleep in the shelter.
He woke the next morning to the feeling of her pressed against him again.
Her deep, even breaths against the back of his neck were embarrassingly welcome, and he ignored the way his body responded. He let out a low, deep sigh, grateful that he was facing away, a shudder passing through his body at the thought of having to explain why he was as hard as a rock. 
His hand traveled down to where her leg was draped over his hip, unable to resist feeling her skin for just a moment before he slowly untangled their limbs, and made his way towards the water. 
Days passed, and they passed without much conversation. This particular morning was somehow even more quiet despite the constant sound of waves lapping at the shore. The anger had fizzled out, and what was left was more akin to silent resignation. The two of you danced around each other, performing what were now everyday tasks without uttering a single word. The hours slipping by wordlessly, that is, until your scream cut through the silence. 
“What is it?” He was at your side quickly, his eyes wide with something that looked suspiciously like worry. 
“I think I stepped on a shell-” The sand around your foot was turning pink, your eyes widening at the sight.
“Okay, take a deep breath and sit here-” He guided you with surprisingly soft hands towards one of the logs around the burned-out fire. “Don’t move - try to keep your foot out of the sand.” He stood then, walking away.
“Where are you going?” Your voice sounded strange, almost whiny, and you ignored the little pang of despair. 
Get a hold of yourself.
“Just going to get the first aid kit.” The cut throbbed as you waited, and soon he returned with one of the water bottles and a big red case. He walked with purpose, the look on his face shamed you to have been so clueless. This was a man that had obviously dealt with many a scraped knee. “Okay, let's see what we’re dealing with.”
He kneeled on the sand before you, taking your foot into his hands. You hissed when he softly brushed the sand away.
“Tsk, come on now Princess. I know you can be braver for me than that.” His hands were soft, and so was his tone, and it filled you with something, comfort amongst other, less wholesome thoughts. You shook them away, chewing on your bottom lip, watching as he played nurse. “Nothing too crazy, just a little cut.” 
He rinsed the sand carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration. 
“Okay, this might sting a little.” He rifled through the open case beside him, grabbing a little pack of what looked to be antiseptic. “Deep breath for me.” He watched you then, waiting until you let the breath go before wiping the wound clean. The sting almost slapped you across the face, every instinct screaming to pull your foot away from the mean man. 
“Okay, okay - you’re okay.” his hands engulfed your ankle, holding you firmly in place. “Good job, we’re almost done.” he spoke low, opening up a waterproof bandaid and carefully covering the tiny wound. “There we go. All done.” He pressed a small kiss to the top of your foot, his eyes widening after. “Sorry- force of habit.” He laughed awkwardly. 
“Thank you. It feels much better.” You felt the heat in your chest and in your ears and ignored it, ignored the whole mess of feelings blooming in your gut for him. 
“Yeah, sure.” He collected his things before scratching at the back of his neck and it thrilled you to realize that he looked as flushed as you felt. “I’m going to go catch something.” He got up quickly, moving with purpose away from where you sat, curtailing any further discussion. 
-
He hadn’t expected it, but she’d taken his words to heart. He’d felt terrible after going off on her. The embarrassment on her face at how she’d treated him, although completely warranted, pulled at his heartstrings. He couldn’t exactly say why - it wasn’t something he could explain, not something he wanted to delve into. Whether that was for his benefit or hers, he couldn’t be sure. 
She no longer had to be told to fetch fruit, or water. She did her best to keep the camp organized, she no longer spoke about her wealth, or Louis. She was quiet most of the time, in fact, and he wasn’t sure if it was better, or worse. 
Where she mostly avoided his annoyance throughout the day, she still clung to him at night. He never told her, convincing himself it was to spare her further embarrassment, ignoring the little part of him that knew it was because he was terrified that if she knew, she’d stop. 
-
Things were different, that was for sure. The days passed and you had to admit to yourself that you’d been such an ungrateful, horrid little - well, Princess. He’d been completely right about you, and he’d had the patience of a saint. You saw him with different eyes now. You saw a competent, strong, intelligent man who up until now, was the only reason you’d survived on this godforsaken island as long as you had. It was well and truly humbling. 
Instead of complaining, now you did your best to pull your weight. The goal was to show him that you were grateful, that you weren’t just some spoiled rich girl, that you could be something other than that, anyway. You wanted - needed to prove to him that you weren’t a burden. 
-
It had been a particularly hot day, the sun beating down on the both of you with a vengeance. Sunset couldn’t come fast enough, and once it did, you cherished it like never before. 
He dug around in the helicopter while you sat on the log, enjoying the tiny, but very welcome breeze coming off the water. 
“Oh wow, I forgot about this,” You heard the smile in his voice, “How would you feel about a drink?” He held a bottle in his hand, making his way over to your place in the sand. 
“I’d feel great actually, if you don’t mind sharing.” 
“Bottle’s almost full, more than enough for both of us.” He sat next to you, taking a generous sip of the amber liquid before handing it to you. It was warmer than you would have liked, but the burn was pleasant enough that you didn’t care. “Good, right?” His smile is as breezy as the ocean, and just as welcome. 
“Very good,” you couldn't help but admit before taking another long sip, “I can already feel it.” You smiled, handing it back to him. 
“We’ll be cheap drunks tonight, that’s for sure.” He took another long swallow, and you couldn’t help but stare at the way his throat worked. You watched the fire instead, focusing on the embers as the drink settled in your stomach. The heat spreads through your limbs, making you feel heavy where you sit beside him. 
You both sat in silence for a time, passing the bottle back and forth until most of it was gone, and your head felt like a balloon barely tethered to your body. 
“This would be such a beautiful place…without the whole ‘being stranded’ thing.” He held the bottle loosely, his eyes no doubt taking in the gorgeous sunset.
“You mean you don’t love being stuck out here with me?” You bumped his shoulder, and it vaguely registers how much you missed physical touch. He laughed, full-throated. 
“Oh yeah, this is definitely heaven.” His expression is exaggerated, “You know what I mean.” He gestures to where the water laps at the shore. “This is a paradise, just needs a resort, and an airport.” He sighed, his mood is the friendliest you’ve ever seen. 
“Yeah, it would definitely make a difference.” You leaned back and listened to the water. “Happy you’re here though, woulda died without you.” You didn’t mean to say it, but it’s absolutely true.
“Oh, I don’t know-” He shrugged, modest and much kinder than you deserved.
“Yes, you do-” You shoved at his arm softly, “You’re the only reason we’re still alive, super nice to me despite the fact that I can be a spoiled little brat.” You laughed. 
“Can’t argue with that.” He laughed, “I like brats, though.” He smiled, and something that feels very much like butterflies fluttered around in your stomach. He didn't say anything else, and neither did you, the butterflies lingered, though, well into the night, and they only seemed to get stronger whenever his eyes found yours. 
“It’s getting late-” He puts the bottle down, “-we should get some rest.”
You nodded, not trusting your voice, instead, you just followed him towards the shelter. 
It’s a strange, unfamiliar dance you’re both doing - the polar opposite of how things have been between you. Shy smiles replace cold stares, and a curious longing takes hold of you. It would embarrass you to fall prey to your baser instincts - there’s something in the way his eyes tracked you that says you weren’t alone in your feelings. 
-
Something has shifted, he can feel it in the tense energy between them. A pleasant buzz flowed through his veins, danced along his nerves like a current, beat through his heart, and into his loins. She was so close, he could practically feel her warmth. 
She sighed beside him, her legs rubbing together like a cricket and he knew in his gut, she felt the same energy. 
“Good night, Frankie.” She whispered the words, as though someone might overhear. His eyes clenched shut at the feel of her breath ruffling through his hair, closer than she’d ever let herself get, awake anyway. 
“Night-” Everything in him wanted to turn over, to feel her fingers ruffle through his hair, but something held him back. He stayed still, his body tense despite how relaxed the alcohol had made him. 
“It’s a bit cold–” Her voice is a bit closer, so close he felt it in the shell of his ear, “-okay if I scoot closer?” Her hands pressed against his back, her legs tangled with his, and he knows in his bones, it’s just a ploy, but he stayed still nonetheless. 
“Sure-get close.” He took her hand and wrapped it around his middle, holding it well above his waist, letting out a deep breath.
“Oh-okay.” She pressed her face into his shoulder, and every cell in his body screamed at him to turn around, to kiss her, bury his tongue in her mouth, and then trail it down, bury it between her legs, but he shook his head, convincing himself she just wants this.
“Night.” His voice cracked, but he said nothing more. He felt her staring at him, letting out a little sigh of her own. 
“Night, Frankie.”
The days following your drunken night passed by in mostly silence, with a polite avoidance from him, and an annoyed quiet from you. 
It was no secret that you had the power to annoy the hell out of him, but you’d thought there’d been something else. The look in his eye when he’d told you he liked brats, the sound of his voice when he’d held you close, the considerable boner pressing against your ass when you’d woken up to him wrapped around you that next morning. 
Maybe you’d misread him, maybe it wasn’t flirting, maybe he’d just been stroking your ego, being nice to you, and you’d practically thrown yourself at him only to be.. What? Ignored? 
-
The wind whipped around as you both ate dinner a few quiet days later, the sky dark and pregnant with the promise of a heavy rain, filling you with worry. The shelter was sturdy, you knew that, but you didn’t think it would hold up against a storm like the one that had blown you both onto the island to begin with. 
“I don’t think we’ll be enjoying a fire tonight,” His eyes stared at the sky, same as you, “we should bring the clothes into the shelter; it’s going to pour soon.” He got up, tossing his banana peels into the fire pit just as the first few drops of water sprinkled down on top of you.
A nervous current flowed through your body as you made yourself comfortable within the shelter, making you acutely aware of his closeness. 
The rain came down in sheets as you both lay there, filling the silence with its rhythmic pattering against the tarp. Lightning flashed, illuminating the space between you. A shiver ran through you at the look on his face. 
“You okay?” His hand shot out, landing softly on your arm, raising goosebumps as it slid down towards your elbow.
“I’m fine.” You shudder, but all at once, annoyance springs up at his rejection the other night - you turn to give him your back. 
“Are you… angry at me?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
“Why would I be angry at you? It’s not like I threw myself at you or anything.” 
“What?” His voice sounded incredulous, “You mean, when we were drinking?”
“Yes!” You sighed, “I was all over you. I guess I was wrong.” All at once, you’re embarrassed, and desperate to get away from his incredulous expression. The storm, however, holds you both hostage.
“Hm.” He sounded almost amused, and your stomach dropped, “Well, if I’d known that all you needed was to be fucked, things would have been different.” 
Your stomach did a backflip onto its ass, shock, and pure adrenaline coursing through your body at his words. You turned slowly to face him.
“Sorry?” It came out almost stupidly, and he smiled a very self-satisfied smile.
“I said, if I’d known, that in order for you to stop being such a brat,” He moved in closer, forcing you to lay back and make space for him between your legs. “All you needed was for me to fuck you, I would have done it sooner.” He hovered above you, close enough that he must’ve surely felt your heart pounding where his chest met yours. It’s with Herculean strength, that you composed yourself, albeit nervously.
“Well, I guess I just thought you were more perceptive.” The bold words were completely at odds with the tremor in your voice; he laughed, full-throated, and it sent a current across every inch of you. 
“Or maybe, I thought you’d open that pretty mouth of yours, and say what it is you wanted.” He pressed forward, dragging his lips across your jaw before capturing your mouth in a kiss. It started soft, and for a moment, the storm disappeared, your hands finding themselves tangled up in his messy waves, and then his tongue pressed forward, and it pulled a moan from somewhere deep inside you. 
There was no more talking. Only the feeling of your heart racing, your cunt aching, and his comforting weight pressing you into the shelter, that is, before he shifted his hips and the considerable heft of him was slotted perfectly against where you needed him most. 
The slip of his warm palm from the trembling skin of your belly raised goosebumps in its wake, and pulled a gasp from your mouth into his when it glided under your shit and landed on your breast. Those deft fingers you’d seen working away on all manner of things on this island, now plucked deliciously at your nipple. 
It was almost violent, both the storm outside, and your haste to divest him of his clothes. The need to feel that golden skin on yours was a hunger pang, both terrible and euphoric, that burned as brightly as the flashes of lightning that lit up the shelter. His eyes shone with the same intensity you felt, and instantly, he moved away to help you, too, the two of you scrambling with a ferocity that bordered on anger. 
“God, you’re so fucking hot–” He hissed the words onto your face before kissing you again, and any softness was gone, his teeth clicked against yours before his tongue took yours and laid down the law. Your skin burned with want, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back before you moved your hand down between you to finally grasp his cock. He pulled away from your mouth to stare down where you held onto him, drunk with the sight of just how big he looked in your grip. 
“Is this what you’ve been wanting?” He held himself above you, watching as you stroked him slowly. 
“God, yes, I wanted this - I want you to fuck me–” you swiped your thumb over the head, fat pearly drops of his own arousal making it slippery, “I want you to come inside me, make me feel good-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before his mouth claimed yours once more and pulled your hand away in order to slip himself between the lips of your sex, coating himself in you for a moment before he finally slipped inside. 
“Jesus Christ, man.” You breathed the words onto his face at the stretch, at the way he seemed to have taken up every inch of space inside you, making you overflow with him. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, his hips snapping in a toe-curling rhythm. For a few minutes, there were no more words left, the only thing you can manage is to whimper, then moan in earnest when he ducked his head down to capture a nipple in his mouth. Your fingers like talons in his hair, keeping him close to your breast while your cunt soaked him in your want.
He let go of the perky bud with a pop, his eyes glazed. 
“Fuck baby, I’m gonna come so fast,” he almost slurred his words, pussy drunk, “your tight little cunt is gonna make me fucking come–” He sped up, his cock punching into you hard enough to make your breasts bounce, hard enough to make a lewd noise where you’re joined and you desperately wanted him to slow down so you can catch up. 
“Wait–” Your legs squeezed where they’d hitched up high on his hips, “Frankie–” His rhythm stuttered for a moment before he thrust again, deep, filling you with his come, and you almost cried at the thought that he might be done so soon.
“Fuck-” He ground himself as deep as he could, milking himself inside you for a moment before pulling away abruptly, hissing through the oversensitivity to look at his handiwork, “that’s so fucking pretty baby, look at me dripping out-” He smiled at you, almost laughing at the look of anguish on your face at the emptiness, “what’s wrong?” His hand rubbed at your belly for a moment before it slipped down, and two big fingers filled you back up. “I know you didn’t come, but you don’t think I’m just going to leave you like this, right?” He pumped slowly, making you keen when he pressed against something holy inside of you. “No, I got you, baby.” 
One moment he was kneeling between your legs, and the next, he was flat on his belly, his face pressed up against your pussy, tongue right on the button of your clit. 
The moan you let out was obscene. His tongue circled your clit with devastating precision, over and over again, until you were staring down at him with your mouth open, begging and praying incoherently for him to keep going just like that. His eyes were bright, laser-focused on you just like his tongue, and his free hand came up to hold onto your breast, pinching at your nipple, and all of a sudden, the sting snapped, the wave crested, and you practically folded in half, swearing loudly as you gushed around his fingers.
-
You weren’t sure how much time passed, but the storm got a little stronger, and louder as you both lay in the shelter, quiet and content to hold each other. Lightning turned the darkened skies into day for a moment before the boom of thunder shook you to your core. 
“It’s okay, just loud.” He said it softly into your ear with the same patience he’d had when he bandaged your foot, the comforting words dads usually used for their children.
“I know, it just startled me.” 
“Force of habit.”
“Your daughter, is she scared of thunderstorms?” You turned towards him, making yourself comfortable in his embrace.
“Only at first.” His smile was wistful, “She always jumps from the first big boom but then laughs,” his eyes crinkled, and it was hard not to notice just how handsome he is, the care and love he has for his daughter shining out through his eyes. “Sorry, I just miss her a lot.” It faltered, that handsome smile, and it made you sad for him.
“Don’t be sorry. I can’t imagine how hard all this must be for you.” Guilt swirled in your chest at the way you’d treated him before, at your general attitude towards everyone up until getting stranded. “I’m sorry about how I was–” He shook his head no, much too kind, kinder than you deserved, and you pushed through. 
“No, let me say it. I’m sorry about how I treated you - I was horrible.”
“You weren’t that bad.” 
“Yes, I was, so spoiled and insensitive, I didn’t even give your situation a second thought. All I cared about was myself and I can’t even believe it now. I’m sorry. I’m really lucky to have you here.”
“Thank you,” he smiled, one of his palms rubbing your back soothingly, “you’ve definitely had a big turnaround.” He laughed, and you smacked his arm playfully. “I’m lucky you’re here too. I would have been miserable by myself.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but sigh at the simple comfort human touch could bring. “Not sure you would have ever agreed to go out with me had we not been stuck here together.” 
His words were light, and for a moment, you wanted to protest, but you didn’t think you could, and it shamed you further.
“Oh god, what a moron I was.” You groaned, pressing your face into the warm skin of his neck. 
“You weren’t a moron, maybe a little oblivious, and I don’t mean that in a cruel way. You and I are in very different circles. I doubt our paths would have even crossed, but I’m glad they did because as much as you have the power to drive me nuts, I really like you.” His hands continued their comforting sweep across your skin, lulling you into the most relaxed state you could remember being in, in a long time. 
“I would have been an idiot to not give you a chance. You’re so sweet and smart, and so strong, so fucking handsome, too. You take care of me and make me laugh, and you have done your best to keep us both safe and sound and I’m just - I’m ashamed that maybe in the past I would have been too shallow and stuck up to notice.” The storm abates as you confess some feelings you’d been harboring. 
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. I think I probably would have dismissed you just as quickly for similarly shallow reasons. As gorgeous as you are, I most likely would have written you off as some rich trust fund-baby.” He half-shrugged.
“I’m still sorry. It’s because of me that we’re here.” 
“I could have said no.”
“I pressured you with money. I pushed even though you’d said it was unsafe.”
“I still could have said no. Let’s just forget it all, everything that happened before we got here. Point is we’re here, and we have to keep it together until someone finds us.” His hand kept its rhythm, sweeping over any and all skin, casting its spell of comfort until both it and the storm lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep. 
-----
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rizzanon · 10 months
Text
childhood friend! Shinichiro Sano
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part 1 | part 2 (here)
childhood friend! Shinichiro who matures quite significantly by the end of highschool, no longer asking out girls at school anymore much to your surprise
"Woah, look at you."
"Hm??"
"It's been months since you last asked out some random girl. What happened to the women obsessed Shinichiro I know?"
"Shut up, it was just a phase. Besides, you made me open my eyes in a way."
"How so?"
"I guess... I'm just waiting to ask the right person out now."
childhood friend! Shinichiro who invites you to witness the disbandment of the first generation of Black Dragons, despite you not being associated with his gang at all
"Why do you even want me to go? The people I know are only just going to be Takeomi, Waka and Benkei."
"Because I want you to be there. Is there any better reason other than that?"
"I suppose not..."
"And maybe it's also the fact that I need someone to watch over Manjiro haha..."
"I knew it."
childhood friend! Shinichiro who gets upset frustrated when you chose to ride with Takeomi instead of him on the day of the final gathering (he couldn't complain about it to you though, you made a fair point)
"Hey come on! Why are you going to ride with him? Takeomi's a worse rider than me y'know."
T- "Fuck off Shin. You don't worry about me stealing your girl from ya'."
"But you are a reckless rider-"
"Come on Shin, you can't expect me, you and Manjiro to be able to sit in one bike, can you? One of us is surely gonna fall off. I'll be fine with Take-chan, okay?"
"Fine..." (He was not fine with it)
childhood friend! Shinichiro who you make fun of when he comes over to you after the disbandment of the first generation of Black Dragons bawling his eyes out (you were prepared for this outcome)
"Glad to know you're still the same crybaby Shin I know."
M- "Haha! I'm gonna tell Emma you're such a crybaby."
"Cut it out you two! This—sniffs—is a special moment...!"
"You're lucky I brought tissues to wipe your tears away."
"I can't believe you know me that well."
childhood friend! Shinichiro who gets used to you coming over to the Sano household unnanounced whenever you pleased, not that anyone minded, since they all loved your presence
"Emma, be a dear and wake up Shin? Smack him if you have to."
E- "Okay!!"
"Woah, woah, there's no need to smack any—yawn—one. And why are you here?"
"Emma wanted me to teach her a new recipe to make for breakfast. So here I am!"
"And you decided to come over this early??"
"It's 7am Shin. Besides, don't act like you don't like seeing my pretty face the first thing in the morning~"
"Shut up." (Spoiler, he does)
childhood friend! Shinichiro whom you never grow apart from even after highschool, and you both started going on different paths, him opening up a motor bike shop while you started going to college and applied for a part time job as a cashier near the vicinity
"Wait, the shop you're working at is the one down the street, right? Just a few blocks away from my shop?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Great, looks like I can go say hi to you whenever I want."
"Don't you dare do something stupid to get me fired, Shin."
"No promises, ma'am."
childhood friend! Shinichiro who after miserably failing 5 times asks you for your help to bake a cake for Emma's birthday
"And what is this supposed to be?"
"Clearly, it's supposed to be Ariel, y'know, the princess mermaid??"
"That's your best attempt at making an ariel themed cake?? Now I know why you were begging for me to come over when you called me."
"I blame it on Manjiro for ruining the frosting."
M- "Hey! It was you who ruined it."
"So not true."
"I think the both of you should just shut up and help clean up this mess first."
childhood friend! Shinichiro who's gotten used to his siblings asking him where you were whenever you weren't seen with him and getting teased about it
E- "Neh, Shin-nii, where's [name]?"
"Probably stuck in another class, why do you ask?"
E- "I miss her."
M- "Idiot, we already saw her this morning."
E- "Hey! Don't act like you don't want her to come and play with us too!"
"Seriously you two, sometimes I wonder if I'm your older sibling at this point, with how much you ask for her."
M- "Shinchiro, we all know you love her as much as we do, maybe even more~"
"Shut your mouth Manjiro 💢"
childhood friend! Shinichiro who always shows up to your workplace when your shift is almost going to be over, always claiming that he was hungry and wanted to buy something, when in reality, he's there to send you home
"So..."
"And what the hell could you possibly want from this humble store, Shin?"
"Woah, woah! Can't a customer walk around the store to see what they want to get?"
"The last time you were here you knocked down a stack of cans on display, the manager almost reduced my paycheck because of that."
"In my defence, I didn't see the stack of cans."
"Suree you didn't."
"Hey, come on now! You know I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize your job.. on purpose at least...."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. Now, would you be so kind to get me a pack of cigarettes, y'know, for a very dear friend of yours?"
"The only think you'll be getting from me is a pack of gum, rotten breath."
"Rude... now come on, when does this shift of yours end anyways? Let's get dinner on the way back."
childhood friend! Shinichiro who becomes your gossip and vent buddy whenever he sends you home after your shift, with him hanging onto every word you say, and hating on whoever you hate even if he doesn't know who the hell they are
"Argh, goddamnit, won't she just give me a break already?"
"Who? Wait—no, let me guess. Is it that girl from your econs class? What's her name again? Ka—Ka something..."
"Kazumi. Wow, didn't think you'd actually remember, well somewhat remember at least."
"With how much you complain about her, who wouldn't? But let me guess what she did to aggravate you this time."
"Go on. No guarantee that there'll be a prize for that though."
"She ditched a group project discussion again? Or she claims she's too busy to complete her part of the project when in reality she's going on parties and all that?"
"Mix of both actually, so congrats! No prize for you though."
"Aww. And here I thought you'll reward me for being a good friend."
"Argh, I should ask Takeomi or Benkei to intimidate her into actually taking this group project seriously or something..."
"Why ask them when you have your number one ride or die partner next to you to do so?"
"What'll you do? Intimidate her with the 20 rejections you've gotten? Pfft, she might even make that 20 become 21 before you intimidate her."
"I thought we swore to never talk about that ever again 💢"
childhood friend! Shinichiro who's grateful to you for bringing him his lunch to his shop whenever he leaves it at home and enjoys groans whenever you nag to him about the importance of not skipping any meals
"Guess some things will never change, huh?"
"Huh? Oh, is that my lunch?"
"No, no, it's my supper."
"Ha. Ha. Very funny [name]."
"I deserve more credit for making sure you don't skip your meals."
"Is that so? Would you like me to get on my knees and thank you? I can certainly do that."
"You and your cheesy lines... when will you learn to remember to bring your own lunch to work? You're pulling off the same shit you did back when we were in highschool."
"Maybe I just like your meals better than mine..."
"...??!... That... That still isn't an excuse for you to not bring along something to eat, dumbass. What would you do if I decide not to check in on you, hm?"
"Probably starve to dea-"
-smacks his head-
"Oww??? Alright, alright, sorry I guess, 'mom'. I won't purposely skip my meals ever again..."
"Good... next time, just... ask if you want me to cook extra for you."
childhood friend! Shinichiro who notes how you start to stand one arm's length away from him whenever you're with him, and when he asks you about it, becomes visibly distraught to hear you say he reeks of cigarette smoke
"Hey... why're you standing so far away from me? Don't tell me you came over to my shop just to see me work from a distance now.."
"You just stink, that's all."
"What??!? I definitely don't stink. I took a shower this morning, and I'm not covered in grease or anything..!!"
"It's that smokey smell that's always lingering around you. Y'know, because you like to smoke every now and then.."
"Huhh?!? What're you saying!!"
"Don't tell me you don't reek of cigarettes Shin. It's blatantly obvious, I can probably even smell you from a mile away like this."
"WHAT?!? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THIS EARLIER???"
"Because I didn't want you to make you self-conscious, stupid! Besides, it's not like I can force you to stop smoking or anything.."
childhood friend! Shinichiro who slowly stops smoking as much as he used to, especially around you so that you wouldn't be disturbed by his smell and stay close to him
"Huh?"
"What is it?"
"Eh... it's nothing important."
"Oh come on, you clearly have something to say. Cat got your tongue or something? Taken aback by my good looks?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever you say. You just... smell different, that's all."
"Is smell all you care about? What are you, a dog?"
"Fuck you."
"Yes please."
"Wha-?!?!"
"I'm joking." (He wasn't really)
"And I probably smell good because I put on this new cologne I got."
"Pfft, to mask off the fact that you're a smoke addict?"
"Hey! Might I inform you that I haven't picked up a cigarette for the past two weeks now."
"Really? Wow, I'm surprised. What made you stop?"
"You. Well, more precisely, you avoiding to get close to me because I stink."
"...?!?" (You were speechless and flustered)
childhood friend! Shinichiro who gets jealous upset when his friends flirt with you right in front of his face, not knowing that they're doing this to get him riled up enough and grow balls to finally confess to you
T: "Say, [name], you got a boyfriend or anything?"
"..?!?! Wha- Why're you asking her that-"
T: "What? Can't a man be curious? Besides, no boyfriend would be pleased if their girlfriend is hanging out with her 'guy' friend and his siblings 24/7."
"Very funny Take-chan. If that's your logic, then I believe you already have your answer."
B: "That's suprising. I was sure a pretty girl like you would have many guys chasing for you."
"...! I'm flattered, Keizo-kun. But I doubt that's the case, haha."
"Oi, you guys, stop bugging her like this..."
T: "Ya'know, I'm pretty sure most girls like strong guys, right? Shin's pretty weak to stay by your side."
"Oi-"
T: "But, he makes it up with his charm and caring side, so I guess you have it good [name]."
W: "Well, that's Shin-chan for ya, so you don't have to worry about him not treating you right, [name]. But if he doesn't, you cant count on us to beat him up for you."
"I.... wow, okay...?"
"?!? Oi, you guys!!? Now you're scaring me!!"
childhood friend! Shinichiro who confronts you one day, telling you all about how his friends and family keep on teasing him about how you and him should date and how he also really liked the idea of that
"Hahaha! Really? Manjiro did that?? I can't believe I missed that!"
"It's painful y'know! Can't believe he's only 12 years old and pulling off roundhouse kicks like that. And to my face too!"
"Well, what'd you do this time?"
"Wha-?!? I can't believe you're so quick to take his side. Both you and Emma."
"What can I say? Both him and Emma are my favourite Sanos after all."
"Gasp After all these years, you're choosing them over me?!? I'm disappointed, [name]. I thought you knew better 😔"
"Cry about it then."
"Mean..."
"But he must have a reason for doing that to you though, right?"
"I mean... it's kind of stupid, really."
"Oh? Do tell whatever the reason for the 'invincible Mikey' to roundhouse kick you. And for Emma to take his side on the matter."
"Ah... they're just mad that I apparently haven't made you my girlfriend yet."
"Huh??"
"I know, stupid, isn't it? They both have been bugging me about this for years now, claiming that they 'want you to be their actual sister'. What's worse is that gramps has the same sentiment as them too."
"Seriously? Sano-sensei as well?"
"Yup. He says he doesn't mind having you as his "granddaughter-in-law" and that you're the only person I ever truly listen to. Bullshit by the way."
"Is it it really though?"
"That's not the point. Hell, even the guys are teasing me for not making it official with you yet. Bugging me about it whenever we hangout, saying that if I don't act soon, they'll steal you away from me."
"I-.... wow... I guess that explains what happened the last time we hung out."
"Yeah, sorry if their words bothered you."
"No, no it's fine. But I'm just wondering... what do you think about all this?"
"Huh?"
"Like.... with everyone bugging you, and well me about this, what are your thoughts on us dating?"
"...?!?... I guess.... I don't mind that..."
"Really? I'm glad then."
"Huh? What do you mean."
"I guess I don't mind us dating as well."
".....Wait..., so are you saying I can be your boyfriend?!?! Really?!?"
"Yes! I'm saying you can be my boyfriend, and I can be your girlfriend, idiot."
"I'm actually so happy right now I could literally kiss you."
"Then do it, Shin. Who's gonna stop you?"
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a/n: i love him so much oml, thinking about writing longer fics about some of these scenarios
m.list
961 notes · View notes
jungwnies · 1 year
Text
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syn ' a-z alphabet (nsfw) jeon jungkook pairing ' bf!jungkook x gn!reader
i am so unbelievably down bad for jk right now, so this is in honor of seven and my current weakness in the knees for him?!?!?!
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a ⋆ aftercare - (how he is after sex)
BOY.... YOU KNOWWW he is taking care of you well
cleaning you up
cuddling you
just know that aftercare he gives is TOP tier
NIGHT AFTER NIGHT HE WILLLLL be treating you right ;)
b ⋆ body part - (his favorite body part)
you lips
your thighs
your ass
literally every part of your body he loves
c ⋆ cum - (anything to do with cum)
he comes on your stomach
or in you
if you don't want to fuck raw then he opts for the stomach
but he prefers coming in you
he likes seeing his seed spill out of you
d ⋆ dirty secret - (his dirty secret)
he loves when you beg
it's the virgo in him
he loves seeing you under his control
like seeing you so down bad for him
and just so submissive
he loves it
e ⋆ experience - (how experienced is he?)
girl
he knows what he's doing that's for sure
he doesn't have a lot of bodies
but he's been in committed relationships before
and the sex never fails to please
f ⋆ fav position - (sex position)
missionary for sure
loves being able to see your face
but sometimes he just wants to do doggy and shove your face into the pillow
g ⋆ goofy - (how he acts in the moment)
he's not goofy okay
but he isn't serious
he's very very
romantic
he's about making sure you're pleased
h ⋆ hair - (how groomed is he?)
he is very well groomed
but he isn't ... bald down there
there's hair there
but not a lot
it's trimmed
not completely gone though
i ⋆ intimacy - (how passionate is he?)
very passionate
like i said
he's a romantic
j ⋆ jack off - (how often he masturbates)
like once or twice a week if you're not there
but if you're there
then never
unless it's mutual
k ⋆ kink - (one or more)
lowkey sadistic???
he kind of enjoys hearing your sobs
or when you cry for him
but if you're genuinely hurt or sad
then he will be there for you
but if you're just in tears cus the sex is
THAT good
then he's super into it
l ⋆ location - (fav place to do it)
the bedroom
sometimes in the car
but mainly in the bedroom
or just anywhere in the house
m ⋆ motivation - (what keeps him going)
your moans
your cries
your sounds
the way you moan his name
it's like fucking music to his ears
n ⋆ no - (something he would NOT do)
would neverrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
do anything like somnophilia
he's just not into that
if he's going to fuck you
you're going to be awake
o ⋆ oral - (giving + receiving — is he good?)
he goes crazy
especially when he's giving
HE GOES CRAZY!!!!!!!!!!!!!
and when he's receiving
his basically fucks your throat
god
god
god
god
oh my god
p ⋆ pace - (fast and rough? slow and sensual?)
rough yet sensual
he goes hard
but not fast
q ⋆ quickie - (his opinion on it + how often they happen)
all the time
on set
before award shows
when people say he has the "we just fucked look"
it's real
because you guys literally just fucked
r ⋆ risks - (is he willing to experiment, does he take risks, etc.)
yes
he is willing to experiment for you
he will risk it all for you
but he sets boundaries
and he respects yours
anything you both are down to do will be done
s ⋆ stamina - (how long can he last?)
he lasts pretty long
but it's not round and round
it's like
longgggg foreplay
and longggg sex
he takes his time
he wants you to feel good
stimulated in every part >.>
t ⋆ toys - (does he use/own any?)
no not really
he's kind of into teasing you in public
it makes it easy to get you to finish shopping
u ⋆ unfair - (how much does he tease?)
A MOTHER FUCKIN LOT
that's all i have to say
he teases a lot ok?
v ⋆ volume - (how loud is he + what noises does he make?)
he moans loudly
he's very vocal about how he feels
not growls but groans fs
just always says your name
and is like
fuck
yes
baby
i love it
fuck
yeah... ANYWAYS NEXT???
w ⋆ wild card - (random headcanon for him)
he thinks about marriage and kids the second he looks at you
he's never been one to think that far into the future
but the second he realized he loved you aka the second he looked at you
he just fell immediately
it's like his whole future flashed before his eyes lol
x ⋆ x-ray - (what’s under his clothes?)
he's not long
he's not thick
he's average
like ngl it's not that big
but it gets bigger when he's hard
so it makes up for those lost inches
we all know he's built
the abs the muscles
he's works out
very nice bod
we all know this yes?
y ⋆ yearning (how high is his sex drive?)
everyday he is down to do it
but he doesn't actually do it everyday
as long as you're open to it
then he is also open to it
it's above avg. but not high
z ⋆ zzz - (how quickly does he sleep after?)
not quickly
he has a hard time sleeping tbh
he falls asleep quick but he doesn't always feel the need to sleep
he sleeps once he knows you're comfortable
and he will be able to sleep once you wrap your arms around him
and tell him you love him
duh
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luverine · 3 months
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Caged Animal Part 4
Yandere (M) Hybrid x (F) Reader
1.0k words Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
TW: murder, violence, bad writing, weapons, blood
MDNI AS ALWAYS
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I’m going to get him out of here. Along with the others if I can.
Anger turned you red. You storm your way to the kitchen to prepare Zaki’s dinner. All the meat in the fridge smells rancid.
You dig around looking for something that looks relatively okay.
“Aha!” You pat yourself on the back. You found a small T-bone steak that was slightly discolored.
As you set up the tray with the meat, some vitamin pills, and water a blaring alarm turns on.
You look around nervously as the noise is slowly giving you a woozy headache.
The doors locked tight when the alarms went off. “Is this a security breach?” you wondered.
Deep in your gut you knew something was off in the two years of working here that has never happened.
Clumsily you wobbled your way toward the counter drawer where the cutlery was. Shuffling in the drawers you found a little paring knife.
You sigh and mutter “it’ll do.” Your balance is off the alarm is vibrating your head. You groan walking toward the door.
“Ah!” Fear is cold running down your back.
BANG! BANG! The door is getting battered and indents are appearing. You hear screaming or is it yelling?
“…!” it’s too dense to hear what they’re saying.
The door continues to be beat on and the fear is keeping you frozen. You’re more unmoving than a mannequin.
Standing beside the door holding dear life onto the tiny little knife waiting for what’s to come.
“I…!” “It…!” “..e.!”
The muffled voice is getting louder and more frantic. You are fighting the urge to ugly cry as you think these are your final moments.
“It’s… me!”
“Zaki?” You shout unsure.
He yells back your name and the banging on the door is even more frantic until finally the door hits the floor taking him with it.
“Zaki, what are you doing?” You drop the knife and help get him off the floor giving him a questioning look.
“The men are going to hurt you!” He pulls you out of the room and skittishly runs down the hallway holding onto your arm.
“We need to go. I need you. I don’t want you to die.” He rambles on apprehensively.
His breathing is heavy, eyes are watery, and his heart is set on getting you and him out of here.
You hear something and immediately grab onto his shoulders and push him into the nook in the hallway.
A man walks by who looks a lot like Doctor Granz. As he passes you let out a sigh in relief. The doctor stops, turns his heel and looks right at you.
All blood leaves your body. You feel sick, you're so nervou bile rises to your throat. Zaki grabs you and runs toward the elevator at the other end of the hallway between you and the doctor.
He’s yelling chasing you both, obviously he isn’t happy about seeing his precious wolf hybrid trying to escape.
Two men with guns are in the elevator. There’s shouting and gun shots until it goes quiet.
You don’t know what happened, you stiffen the moment you see a gun aimed at you. You turn and look at Zaki who’s covered in blood, panting loudly.
You run your hands all over his body checking for a wound. Choked up you notice his shoulder had been shot. You rip a piece of your uniform shirt off and wrap it tightly around his shoulder.
The air in your lungs feels too heavy and you're panicking.
He’s looking at you as the elevator goes down with nothing but deep affection. It's clear.
The door dings and slides open. Boss man and five others with guns are in the way to escaping.
Zaki is looking tired and you aren’t strong. “Fuck!” You say. Shrinking close to Zaki.
You give Zaki a quick tender look and rub his hand. We are so fucking dead, you thought.
Walking face to face with boss man. “It doesn't have to be this way girl, you and wolfman are in a lot of trouble now. Causing me so much grief.” He tsk-tsked “get rid of ‘em” he tells the gun men, flicking his hand and walking away.
A stream of tears pour out of your eyes. “Why did it have to be this way?” You wondered. “I fucking hate this job!” You scream out infuriated.
Your fist shakes. Sweat runs down your face. You give Zaki a scowled look. He wipes the tears from your eyes and sinisterly grins at the gun men.
As they were aiming to fire off you jumped on one of the men and punched him square in the face relentlessly till your fists were red.
Zaki worked on the other men painting himself a deep crimson, barring his sharp canine teeth.
“I’m…so…hungry” he howls biting into a man’s jugular. Grunting and growling as he does when you feed him.
The men that were once standing with their guns aimed at your heads were mush, Zaki must have been starved.
You both run to the side door, an exit. You tap your card on the reader hoping it will work. Instead of the annoying beep to enter you hear a ding.
They revoked your access. You want to curl up on the floor and cry.
Zaki begins hitting the door like an animal stuck in a trap. You can see a crazed shine in his eyes.
You step back and go inside the break room to the right of the door. There’s a fire extinguisher. “It’s not much but it could work.” You shrugged.
Handing the extinguisher to Zaki he ballistically smashed it into the door making a loud bang. The door breaks open.
Zaki's heaving, adrenaline is still running through his veins.
As you begin to run out the door heading outside Zaki grabs you. You turn your head giving him a look. He is holding your middle tightly.
He jolts, taking a left going straight to the woods. “Zaki let go!” You frustratedly yell at him.
“No you’ll leave me, you’re not going to leave me.” His grip gets tighter as he speeds up going deeper in the woods.
Blood drains from your face. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go… “what the hell” you grumble disgruntledly.
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A/N: This got kind of juicy. (lol) Anyways this is the end of the story for people who don’t like smut because that’s what part 5 is going to be. Major Yandere vibes this part and in the next. Cya ;)
P.S. if you’re wonder what Zaki may look like think of Kristopher Hyatt. Literally serving face!
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preseriesdean · 1 month
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for @spnficrecfest day seven: outsider pov 🧡
JOHN POV
Like Arrows in the Hands of a Warrior by ADeedWithoutaName 10.3k words, rated M, published 2018, underage John Winchester loves his boys, and would take a bullet for either of them. He knows that he's doing it right, the way he's raising them, the things he's teaching them. Not every problem, however, has an easy answer. Like what to do after an incubus case in which their target got his pollen all over both of John's sons.
Flagstaff by Linden 7.3k words, rated T, published 2014 John tracked Sam down in Flagstaff, four days after he got home to find him gone.
Generosity by astolat 1.7k words, rated E, published 2007 John had traded the gun; he'd have traded away more, and he was still feeling the cold dread of the moment when the demon had cocked its head like a pistol and said, "You know, I'm feeling generous today," because if it hadn't taken more, that was only because it figured what was in store was going to be worse.
lost in yesterday by margaryes / @christsam 1k words, not rated, published 2023 John hasn’t seen his youngest son in 18 months.
half the man i used to be by dollylux 2.2k words, rated M, published 2016 John has a gradual, horrifying realization.
Mary's Angels by FrancesHouseman 3.1k words, rated G, published 2016 There's one more silver bullet in the chamber; one last shot at the sikutor, the ice siren that has Dean in thrall. John takes aim, and misses.
OTHERS POV
Buy You a Mockingbird by candle_beck (a.k.a. thee outsider pov fic of all time no contest) 10.3k words, rated M, published 2011, author chose not to warn A genuine horror story.
Multitude of Sins by Linden 4.4k words, rated T, published 2015 Every now and again, Jim Murphy would look up from his altar and find the Winchester boys at the back of his church.
All Heartless Spectres, Happiness 5.7k words, rated E, published 2021, soulless!sam Lisa Braeden receives an email with the subject line, "You Deserve to Know." It contains a single video file and nothing else.
I'll take my chance on a beautiful stranger by fleshflutter 3.9k words, rated M, published 2007 If Chase were a better friend, he might try to end the game now, before Brendan loses even more money. But if Brendan is a dick at Stanford, it’s nothing compared to how he is on break.
Other Brothers by homo_pink 7k words, rated M, published 2020, underage A callow boy can go from infancy to someone’s lover in the space of two wildflower summers.
Try asking by @goshen-applecrumbledore 7.4k words, rated T, published 2022 “Jerry says he saw them going at it in the back of that car of theirs outside Atlanta last year, I swear to God.” “Listen, man, I don’t like them either, but that’s a low blow. Jerry’s a fucking pervert.”
charmer & gentle by Askance 3.7k words, rated G, published 2015 The afternoon girl calls them Big and Tall, the strangers who come in late every now and then, buying this or that. The night girl doesn't think those names fit quite right.
Happy Wife, Happy Life by petrichorsam pre-slash, 7.1k words, rated T, published 2023 The hunters at Johnny's Roadhouse have heard enough tales about Dean Winchester's wife, Sam, to fill a book, and yet no one has ever seen her.
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scoops-aboy86 · 23 days
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Last Party of the Summer
Prompt Used: Pool party (@thehairandthebanished) and make-up sex (@steddiesmuttyseptember) | Last Party of the Summer | Rating: E | CW: hurt comfort, weight gain, body image issues, mildly intoxicated sex | Additional Tags: chubby Steve Harrington, miscommunication, breakup to makeup, makeup sex
also on Ao3
It’s hard to keep tabs on someone at a crowded pool party without being obvious about it, especially while working at getting drunk. But Steve, pausing to shotgun another beer, thinks he’s doing pretty good all things considered. He’s not glaring literal holes through Ed— through Munson’s stupid leather jacket, at least, so he can’t be that obvious. Even Tommy hasn’t commented on it, and Tommy isn’t one to notice things and not run his mouth, so there you go. 
He’s not being obvious at all. 
Then, out of nowhere, Eddie emerges from the crowd and uses a firm grip on his upper arm to propel him from the side of the pool back inside the house. Steve hadn’t even realized he’d lost track of the guy among their peers, which only adds to the unreal feeling of being frogmarched up the stairs and into his bedroom, ringed fingers burning like a brand through the sleeve of his t-shirt. 
“Alright,” Eddie snarls after kicking the door shut behind them. “You are the one who ended things, so what’s your fucking problem, Harrington? Mad that the riff raff got in to supply this dumb shindig with party favors?”
Indignance kick-starts Steve into scowling and yanking his arm away, crossing them across his chest. (But also, hearing his last name roll off Eddie’s tongue when just a few weeks ago he’d been ‘Stevie,’ ‘baby,’ ‘sweetheart’ makes something twist painfully in his chest.) “Watch what you’re calling dumb, Munson. You’re the one who snuck in uninvited.”
“It’s called working. It’s what some of us have to do when we don’t have daddy’s money to fall back on!”
The words make Steve take a sharp step back, because Eddie knows his parents throw money at him as though it’ll make up for never being around, never paying much attention to him unless there’s something to scold him for. How he’s gotten checks in the mail after making the winning shot or run or lap in an important match or getting a good grade on a big test, but they’re never there to actually see any of it; how he feels more like an employee or an investment than a son. 
And maybe it’s because he’s toeing the line of drunk, but his eyes sting. A little. 
“That’s a low fucking blow, freak,” Steve sneers, blinking hard. His crossed arms tighten further over his chest like he’s trying to keep something from breaking out, and he doesn’t care about the way Eddie’s face twitches. He doesn’t! “But I guess that’s par for the course with you, isn’t it? Never pull a single fucking punch.”
“I’ve pulled plenty,” Eddie sneers right back. 
Which is. Oh. That’s worse. 
“Why can’t you just leave me alone, huh?” And Steve can hear his voice going humiliatingly tight, there’s just nothing he can do about it. Fucking beer. “I told you to go, what’s the point in dragging me up here just to rub it in more, huh?”
Almost worse, what if someone had noticed them going up the stairs together? He could’ve withstood that before, when they were still… But now Steve is all alone, painfully unwanted even by the town loser, who must have pulled his punches long enough for the sake of getting laid for a while, just like all the girls who had ever found Steve wanting after a few dates. All he wants is his own sad business to stay pathetically his own, but Eddie just had to be out selling tonight. 
“Maybe I just wanted a little fucking closure, Steve.” Eddie leans back against the closed door, like he’s trying to get as far away as possible without leaving the room, glaring. There’s nothing soft in those eyes now, not anymore, not even as he says Steve’s first name instead of his last. A concession? No, it must just be a lapse. A lingering habit of familiarity, soon to be broken. “You kicked me out without any warning, and now you’re following me around with this look like I’m the one that did something wrong. Rub in what? What the fuck did I even do?”
Steve feels his jaw drop. “What did you do? Are you stupid or something?”
They’d been in Steve’s bed, plaid comforter kicked to the floor in their hurry, too wrapped up in each other to give even half a shit about the chaos of sheets around them. And maybe Steve had been a little self conscious about taking off his shirt that night, because it was between sport seasons and he hadn’t been keeping up with his workouts lately, too wrapped up in Eddie and shared joints that set his mind free from what Eddie called the ‘shackles of conformity.’ He’d still done it, stripped as eagerly as if he’d never noticed the way a few extra pounds had gone to his ass and belly lately. Because surely Eddie wouldn’t care. It was conformity to worry about that kind of shit so much, and Steve was trying to be better. To be someone Eddie could not just like, but respect, too. 
At first it was fine. Eddie pounced on him like he usually did, with a demanding kiss before lavishing attention on the constellations of Steve’s moles that lead from check to neck and further. He latched onto a nipple, teasing at the quickly tightening bud with teeth and tongue until pulling back in satisfaction and diving for the other. Then further down, raking his blunt, black-painted nails down Steve’s sides until he reached his waist, gripping… then, unusually, pausing. And then, then he’d—
“You laughed at me,” Steve spits, and oh god his eyes are really stinging now. That’s all he’s got, that four-word complaint, but it’s anything but little. Humiliation and hurt and shame coiling in his gut and making all the beer he’s downed tonight churn unpleasantly, because he’d been stupid to think that what they’d had wasn’t as superficial as everything else in this stupid town that Eddie wants to ditch the second he graduates. Everyone knows what the Freak of Hawkins High thinks about jocks. Probably sits around snickering to himself in his free time about how Steve’s let himself go—
“When the hell did I laugh at you?” Eddie is still pissed, still scowling at him, but there’s an undercurrent of bewilderment in his voice. (Steve recognizes it from the time he’d tried to explain the rules of baseball.) “Before or after you shoved me off, bare ass fucking naked, and told me to get my shit and get lost?”
“Before!” Steve can’t believe this. What is Eddie trying to do here, pretending he doesn’t know? “Right before that! When you… felt my stomach.”
Face burning at the admission, Steve is looking anywhere but Eddie and doesn’t know what to make of the sputtering noise at first. Until the lack of response gets to him and he glances, then focuses, then frowns, the tight cross of his arms loosening infinitesimally in distraction. 
Eddie is just… standing there, pointer finger held aloft in a ‘hold on a second’ gesture, his other hand pressed hard against his mouth and his eyes downcast in deep thought. 
It’s the same thing he does when he has a light bulb moment about a new plot point in a campaign and is trying to sort out in his head how all the threads of it mesh with what’s already there. The recognition makes Steve’s heart ache, regardless of how baffled he is to see it in this context. 
“Fuck,” Eddie mutters after a second, rubbing his hands over his face and sighing heavily, a hint of frustrated growl to it. “Well… fuck, okay.” 
He presses both hands together, tapping both pointer fingers against his lips and breathing out heavily through his nose, and finally looks up to make eye contact. 
“Okay, I just heard it how you must have heard it, and that’s—” A grimace passes across Eddie’s expressive face. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Steve. Pretty insulted that you’d just assume I even would, but that’s… that’s not the point.”
Steve blinks and keeps blinking, hard, not sure how the argument has turned into… this. He’s still mad, hurt, everything he was a minute ago, but now he’s confused too. And kind of indignant, a little unsure, half ready to tell Eddie to just get out again. “What? Dude, I heard you!”
“Not a laugh!” the metalhead insists. “This is so—For fuck’s sake, Steve, I liked it. I was excited, and I… I fucking giggled, alright?”
And… what?
“Giggled?” Steve repeats. 
“Yeah,” Eddie bites back, embarrassment coloring high on his cheeks. “Like a goddamn schoolgirl. I wanted to bite you there, you asshole,” he adds, but it lacks heat. His voice has gone tired, the fight draining out of him as he realizes—and as it occurs to Steve, if he’s telling the truth—that what they’d both been hissing mad about was a complete and tragic misunderstanding. 
“But… I don’t get it,” Steve says numbly. Maybe it’s the beer catching up to him, but his conviction is wobbling now and he feels off kilter. He shuffles a few more steps backwards until he runs up against the bed and sits so fast it feels like falling. “I’ve let myself go and you… I thought you…”
He’d been so sure. That laugh has been ringing through his head ever since he’d heard it, but suddenly it sounds like a caricature, like something out of a cartoon. 
Not how Eddie sounds at all.
“It’s not ‘letting yourself go’ to not be skin and bones, man,” Eddie says, shoving both hands in his pockets and looking down at the toes of his own sneakers. “Some padding never hurt anyone. I like it, alright?” Defensive, defiant, but… a little subdued now. 
Sad, Steve thinks, and then suddenly that’s all he can feel. It hits him that he’d pushed Eddie away, ended things between them… for no reason? 
His shoulders are already hitching up before he even registers that he's crying, wetness trickling straight down to dampen the hair at his temples. It’s been weeks. Weeks of being angry—he’s so tired of it, but the only alternative was to feel horribly lonely so he held onto it anyway, a rope burn on his soul to distract from the pain of his heart cracked in two. 
And he’d known as he watched Eddie earlier tonight that his gaze bordered on more pathetic than mad. Not quite cooled off enough to realize on his own that he’d made a mistake, but enough to recognize it now that reality (and Eddie) stares him in the face. 
It’s over for no reason. Eddie hates him now and if it was just a dumb misunderstanding then, then Steve absolutely deserves it—
The bed dips at his side. Not close enough that they’re touching, but that it happens at all is a surprise. And then Eddie murmurs “Stevie?” so hesitant it makes Steve choke. 
It’s the barest hint of an olive branch, and he’s absolutely going to blame the beer for how it makes the tears drip faster. He hasn’t felt this pathetic since the car ride home after one of the few basketball games his dad had ever bothered to attend, where Steve had missed not one but two easy free throw shots. 
“I’m so s-stupid,” he gasps wetly, and immediately feels even more pathetic for saying it out loud, as if it’s not obvious. He turns away, away from Eddie, trying to hide—his face, his body, everything. This is the worst pool party ever and he’s never drinking again. 
“You're not stupid, you dumbass. Hey.” Eddie touches his shoulder, keeps his hand light but there when Steve tries to shrug it off. He sighs heavily, almost a huff. “It’s not stupid to react to me pressing a button I didn’t know was there. Look—Would actually saying something instead of jumping right to kicking me out been better? Absolutely. That really fucking hurt, man.”
“Sorry,” Steve squeezes his eyes shut. “And sorry I called you a freak. You’re not, I don’t… I don’t really think that.”
There’s a pause, and then Eddie squeezes his shoulder. “Thanks, man. I’m, uh… sorry for the crack about your dad and calling you an asshole.”
“I am an asshole.” Steve’s eyes are already shut; he squeezes them tighter until colors start to bloom across the inside of his eyelids. “Fucking ruined everything over some stupid thing that was only ever in my head, so I… I deserve this. But you didn’t and I’m sorry, I hope you—” and here his throat tightens up, because he wants to say I hope you can forgive me, but that would be even more pathetic than he’s already being. “I hope you find s-someone who treats you better.”
This pause stretches out for a lot longer, so long that Steve would think Eddie had left if not for the remaining dip in the mattress and the hand-shaped brand on his shoulder. He’s just waiting for the agreement and for Eddie to finally leave for good, holding in a wordless, futile scream for when he’s alone. Fuck the party downstairs, he’ll call the cops himself if he has to just to clear them all out, and suck up whatever punishment he gets if the Hawkins PD decides to notify his parents. 
Finally, after a thousand fucking years of that scream burning a hole in Steve’s throat, Eddie says quietly, “Or, you could just… not do that again. Think you could do that for me, Stevie?”
Absolute fucking whiplash. 
Steve is so shocked he actually turns back to look, and all it takes is the sight of the other boy’s big brown eyes and the softness there, the tender flaming hope in them. “Yeah,” he croaks, doesn’t even think he sounds like himself anymore but at least he gets the word out. “Yes, Eds, please—”
And then Eddie is on him with a bruising kiss, scrambling to kick his shoes off while Steve scrambles at the black leather jacket, pulling it off to grab desperately where Eddie’s bare sides show through the intentionally ripped shirt beneath it. Ripped denim rasping against swim trunk fabric as Eddie straddles him, grinds down hard, refusing to let either of them up for air. Steve is just as hungry for it, just as desperate. 
It’s different. They’ve still got their residual hurts, he can taste it in the way Eddie bites at his lips, bites all the way down to his neck and sucks a dark claim on the side that Steve can’t help arching into with a moan. A breach of their unspoken rule not to mark each other because they can’t be out, not in this town and definitely not while they’re still only going into their junior and senior years, respectively—but Steve is in just the right mood not to give a shit about that right now. Although…
“Door,” he gasps, trailing off with a whine when Eddie rolls his hips down into his again. “Did you lock it?” 
Eddie pulls back fluidly with a curse under his breath, which Steve takes as a no. “Get these off while I’m gone,” he says, voice rough, and tugs at the waistband of Steve’s swimsuit. A second later he’s on his feet, backing away with a smoldering stare until Steve gets the hint. 
With a jolt, Steve shoves the trunks down, bracing his heels on the bed to tug them over his ass. His cock bobs free, and his breath catches at the way Eddie keeps watching until he backs into the door. 
“Good boy,” Eddie breathes, turning the lock behind his back. “Scoot back on the bed. After tonight, I’m going to make sure you’ll never think I’d laugh at you ever again.”
Steve does as he’s told, partly because he’s still shivering from the good boy (what is it about Eddie taking charge and calling him that, gets him every time) and partly because Eddie turns away to his tape player. Downstairs, it sounds like the party has seeped into the house; the living room speakers are thundering out don't you want me baby? at a volume that will probably spur the neighbors into action—morons. But all the better that the door is locked, if the party is going to ramp up unchecked; it’s only a matter of time before couples start breaking off to find any free privacy they can get. 
Eddie puts in a mix tape, one of the ones he’d gifted months ago for what he’d called Steve’s ‘auditory re-education,’ and moves the smaller player close to drown it out.
In that cocoon of some of the metal songs that Steve actually likes, Eddie comes back to bed stripped out of his jeans and shirt. He crawls up between Steve’s legs until he’s hovering over him face to face. Then he gathers up Steve’s wrists, moving them to cross against the headboard above his head, and Steve lets it happen because it makes breathing pick up, makes his pulse throb faster between his legs. 
“Keep these here,” Eddie says, and then kisses him so gently that Steve is shaking with the need to pull him closer, to have more. But the second he reaches to do so, Eddie catches him again. “Stevie…”
“I missed you so much,” Steve groans. Pouts, too, but lets Eddie replace his wrists above his head, not sure if he’s fully forgiven yet—doesn’t m is if this is penance or a reunion, or to what degrees it’s both. “Eds, please—”
He’s interrupted with another kiss, just as gentle and slow, but so unchaste it makes him feel like he’s melting. And then Eddie murmurs against his lips, “Missed you too. Let me show you, sweetheart.”
Before Steve has a chance to answer, Eddie wraps a hand (when had one of them left his wrists?) around his cock and drags a slow thumb over the head. 
“Just keep your hands up here for me and be good.”
With a shuddering breath, Steve tries. He keeps his hands in place while Eddie nuzzles down the front of his shirt to the soft swell of his stomach, no less noticeable than their last night together. (Watching what he eats is hard, okay? He’s a teenage boy, he gets hungry. And maybe he’s still a little bloated from the beer even though he can’t really feel the alcohol slowing him down anymore.) There’s a faint red line, visible when his shirt is lifted, where it’d pushed slightly over his waistband all night; Eddie presses a gentle kiss to it and sighs.
A good sigh, like this is exactly what he’s been waiting for. Steve’s heard it before when taking the other boy in his hand, in his mouth—and even if his mind is inclined to overthink it, his body is hardwired to respond. Precome dribbles onto Eddie’s fingers, easing the glide as he slowly, slowly starts to stroke. Makes Steve shiver with dueling sensations of shame and pleasure because Eddie is still kissing the little pooch of his tummy, free hand kneading gently over the softness at his side, starting to tip the scales with how good the combined attention feels. 
“That’s it baby,” Eddie tells him breathily, almost crooning. “That’s it…”
And slowly, slowly Steve starts to relax into it. He does try to look away a few times, overwhelmed, but Eddie answers each attempt by turning his face gently back and staring him down while kissing him more, tummy and soft sides and chest. Leaving love bites here and there. The sounds Eddie makes, pleased hums and low moans and quiet praise and Steve’s name, over and over. 
It feels like coming home. 
The next morning, Steve wakes up to Eddie kicking the door shut behind him as he comes back into the room. 
“Everyone’s cleared out, but you do not want to look out there,” Eddie announces, setting a tray piled high with easy breakfast foods (scrambled eggs, bacon, buttered toast, jam, poptarts, fruit), two mugs of coffee, and a jug of orange juice on the bed with a flourish before crawling back into it himself. “At least not before noon.”
Steve doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t care, because Eddie is here. Eddie is here. With a breakfast that perfectly suits his level of hungover—not bad, but not great. 
“Eds,” he starts, another apology ready to spill out, but Eddie pops a piece of toast into his open mouth and settles at his side. 
“We’re good,” the other boy says simply. “It was a dumb misunderstanding that made you feel hurt and sad and made me feel hurt and pissed off, but it’s untangled now. Just never try to dump me like that again and we’ll be fine, alright?”
“Uh-huh,” Steve agrees quickly through a full mouth. He’s struggling to chew the big bite that had been shoved in, reaching for Eddie’s hand. Eddie loops an arm around Steve before letting him take it and twine their fingers together. As soon as he swallows, he adds, “I don’t want to dump you.” Not ever again, he hopes, but it doesn’t feel like the right time to say so. Not right now, not something so big that it’ll sound like a grand empty promise right after making up. 
But Steve is pretty sure the fact that it hurt so much to push Eddie away means he’s capital L in love with him. 
“Good.” Eddie kisses him, a hint of sweetness on his lips that suggests he sampled some of the jam while cooking. “Now, eat up sweetheart. That makeup sex wiped me out, and we’ve got a lot more celebratory banging on the schedule for today. Gotta keep that strength up.”
And, he has a point. Steve feels the grumbling of his empty stomach, along with the easy throb of all the little marks Eddie had left on his body the night before as a form of… of worship or something. Reminders that maybe letting go isn’t such a big deal. Because if he skimps on breakfast when it’s what his body wants (needs), sooner or later he’ll get restless and cranky and risk ruining everything all over again. “Yeah, keep my strength up,” Steve agrees, feeling his face heat a little. But Eddie beams at him, starts fussing around with the pillows so they can recline comfortably while they eat—while offering Steve forkfuls of scrambled eggs and bites of this or that, really—and slowly, slowly relaxes into feeling like everything’s going to be okay.
Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire
@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair
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allwaswell16 · 3 months
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All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in June 2024. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup [ @1dmonthlyficroundup ] which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!
Fanfictional Podcast #63 |  ko-fi | fic recs
- Louis/Harry -
💜 Eight Cakes and Two Eulogies (Make a Happy Marriage) by yesllliam
(M, 135k, friends to lovers) The only problem is, after his last disastrous relationship, seven years ago, he has little desire to get intimate with another woman, let alone marry one. Of course, Harry, his famous actor of a best friend, always likes to pip in that he is free to marry him and while Louis loves him to pieces, the joke is getting a bit old now.
💜 I'm Praying (that you don't burn out or fade away) by @lululawrence
(NR, 74k, soulmates) Harry and Louis are literal stars who have known they were soulmates from their creation eons ago, however when Louis came to Earth to start the next phase of their fated future, he forgot everything. Even Harry.
💜 Scarred by @allwaswell16
(E, 23k, omegaverse) When Harry inadvertently rejects him as his soulmate, Harry has no idea he's doomed Louis to a slow, painful death. Pride doesn't keep Louis from telling Harry the truth. But love does.
💜 Lost But Won by @2tiedships2
(NR, 16k, omegaverse) When Harry loses his passport after a weekend trip to see Niall, the inconvenience of being stranded in America becomes a little more bearable after meeting Louis. Or a lot more bearable.
💜 Safe place to hide us away by @lunarheslwt
(T, 12k, omegaverse) weighed down by everyday stress, alpha Harry takes up nesting in secret. It takes a load of missing clothes and unravelling lies for him to realise that his omega would love and accept him no matter what.
💜 Beep the Horn by kikikryslee / @flamboyantommo
(T, 6k, love confessions) the one where Harry dresses as Miley Cyrus for Halloween, and Louis is the tiniest bit in love with him.
💜 Take My Hand, Dumbass by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup
(G, 5k, roommates) There's only alpha dorms at university, and Louis Tomlinson, omega, refuses to pay the exorbitant fees to live off campus. So, four years pretending to be an alpha it is! That'll be easy.
💜 Missed Chances by @harryanthus-annuus
(E, 5k, omegaverse) they get drunk on some expensive wine. Things escalate from there.
💜 Puppy (Baby, I'm Pawfect for You) by @yoursolosong
(E, 5k, roommates) The one where they rescue a stray puppy together.
💜 Louis and the no good, very bad day by @haztobegood
(E, 4k, soulmates) Louis collapses back into the bed with a groan. Just when he thought his day couldn’t get any worse, there’s a fucking goose stuck on his balcony.
💜 Switching the positions for you by 28sunflowers / @vintageumbroshirt
(E, 4k, omega Louis) the omegaverse AU where they decide to try a completely new position in bed
💜 Come On and Rescue Me by @kingsofeverything
(E, 3k, silver fox Louis) Louis only intends to watch his hot neighbor’s Instagram live, but he winds up with his hand down his pants.
💜 Timeless by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt
(G, 3k, omegaverse) After visiting an antiques shop, Harry gets transported through time, and discovers that he and Louis are Timeless.
💜 I'll Still Feel the Same Around You by @crinkle-eyed-boo
(E, 2k, established relationship) Louis finds the cure for his insomnia in the form of his husband.
💜 call me any, anytime by @disgruntledkittenface
(E, 2k, girl direction) Harry’s plans for the night are interrupted by an unexpected FaceTime call.
💜 Feelin' So Good Right Now by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf
(E, 1k, Vampire Diaries au) Louis, a just-turned vampire, enjoys his enhanced touch sensation.
💜 Remember Me (When I'm With You) by liberty_barnes / @liberty-barnes
(T, 1k, memory loss) the one where Louis was cast out and Harry just wants him to be happy
💜 cause you're a sky full of stars by @femstyles
(G, 1k, uni) A film student on campus randomly stops Harry and asks him to participate in her assignment. Little does he know that agreeing also means putting his heart on the line.
💜 Don’t Embarrass Me, Motherfucker by @allwaswell16
(T, 1k, parrot) Harry comes home from work to find Louis and their parrot are up to something. A Darcy the Parrot time stamp Part 2 of That's How I Know
- Rare Pairs -
💜 You Only Fall In Love Twice by @beanno28
(E, 57k, Harry/Louis/Zayn) Louis meets popstar Harry Styles while he is working at a festival and they hit it off right away. When he is introduced to Harry’s boyfriend, Zayn, Louis is invited to learn about their world of Polyamory.
💜 Third Time Lucky by @beanno28
(E, 31k, Harry/Louis/Zayn) Louis sat back, his back resting on the cushion of the sofa. Harry and Zayn were quick to lay their heads on Louis’ chest so Louis could wrap an arm around each of them. Part 2 of You Only Fall In Love Twice
💜 It's You by @allwaswell16
(T, 2k, Louis/Louis) Five times alpha Louis talks to omega Lou and one time he admits he wants more from his omega clone
💜 The Tiniest Moves by @allwaswell16
(T, 1k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Coffee shop owner Nick Grimshaw may or may not have come to work on his day off in the hopes that fresh-off-his-world-tour Louis Tomlinson might stop by.
💜 A Meeting of Minds (and other things too) by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13
(T, 1k, Zayn/Liam) Zayn's fed up, Liam's a bartender, and maybe they'll both get what they need.
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peachymilkandcream · 11 months
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Movie! William Afton NSFW Alphabet
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(A/N: The NSFW Alphabets are their canon events I cannot stop this I'm sorry T-T Also please read the warnings, I don't care if it's fucked my guy literally stuffed children into suits he's fucked up.)
WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, age difference etc.
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) William is surprisingly considerate, when he has the time to be. Most of his life is wrapped up in the chaos of covering up murders and coming up with new machines that sometimes sex just becomes stress relief and he doesn't have time for more. However when he can be convinced to take time away he really does try and care about his wife and make sure she feels clean and comfortable.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Deranged psychos and their hands are a thing I'm telling you. The power in behind them is 100% a secret turn on they won't admit. And when you've made your career the work of your hands, (like child murders and a booming business) you can't help but pick that as the favourite. For her, he's not super partial but he really likes her hair, gripping it, pulling it, is what he daydreams about.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Let's just saw how else did they have four kids, cmon now. ;)
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) While it's not inherently sexual William really loves putting fear into others, and he 100% has a r*pe fantasy that he puts her through often. (Although for her he doesn't tell her that's what happening so it's 'authentic') This includes fake home invasions as well when he gets bored of vanilla sex and wants to "spice things up". Poor girl lives in fear daily.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He has some before they met, mostly teenage mistakes when he had the time. After he started his career it was rare he did simply because of time. He knows enough of what he's doing, he knows how to make himself feel good and that's all that matters right?
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) My guy is a ride or die missionary, reverse cowgirl is the only other he'll consider. Anything else is just uncomfortable in his opinion, and again it's about what feels best for him.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) William's very erratic so it really depends on the mood he's in, how his day has gone if this kids annoy him. He has been known to be more humorous on occasion but it's not often.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Let's be honest William only gets his hair cut because his wife does it, he doesn't have the time to take care of himself like he should, those are precious moments that could go to his work. So no, he is not well groomed.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) This again depends on the occasion, usually it's just stress relief so it's quick and usually not very romantic, but if it's a special occasion like an anniversary or birthday then he'll be way more romantic.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Same as with his hair, he honestly just never has time XD
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Big somnophilia fan, probably a slight breeding kink, lingerie (especially stockings), hair pulling, choking, gagging, knife play 100% (he's a serial killer, I had to).
L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Anywhere in the house really, anywhere he can get a moment alone. He used to enjoy when she distracted him in his workshop in the basement but now those old parts bring back haunting memories...
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Her being a mother to his children, it warms his little black heart and gets him going. As well as any new sets of lingerie she buys or he buys for her.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) She wouldn't but if she tried to dominate him, he would nope the fuck out of there. My guy is an S tier misogynist and believes his wife should be beneath him literally and figuratively.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He prefers receiving simply because it plays into the whole gagging thing. Her gagging on his dick as he face fucks her is so hot to him.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) As stated before it depends on the occasion, special moments require more slow and sensual whereas annoyance or hurry is fast and rough.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) His whole life is about quickies, having just enough time to get himself off is what he usually does.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) He takes too many risks, if he's not careful he's going to end up hurting her.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Obviously when he was younger it was more, but now he's a one or two rounds at most guy.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No no never, no matter what it is he's come to not trust machines around his loved ones anymore.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) If he's in a goofy mood he will, but most of the time he doesn't have time to sit and tease her.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He's actually quite loud, groaning and even soft whimpers are his specialty.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) William has a thing for stockings because that's the first thing he saw her in and he started fantasizing how her thighs would jiggle in them while he was eating her out.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) I'd say he's above average, not too much but enough, he's slightly thick with a few smaller veins.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) His drive has really changed from wanting to have sex to wanted her to relieve stress. So because of all the stress he's under, it's pretty high.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) William is out like a light after, dreaming about his victims or how he disposed of bodies. Solid sleeper while his wife lays awake plagued by waking nightmares of her own.
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greenunoreversecard · 6 months
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hi! can i request remus lupin x reader where reader is going through a break up and remus confesses his feelings for them? hope this makes sense and totally okay if not!
A/N: ofc! I'm just gonna do male bc the gender wasn't specified. Again, don't do fem or fem aligned so sorry if that's what you was hoping for. Also not beta read.
-E/N is exes name
-S/T is stuffed toy. I was gonna do stuffed animal but the letters together... aren't a good thing.
Minor hints to internalized homophobia, but to be fair it's the 70s so what do you expect?
Reader is in Gryffindor and is the fifth person in he Marauder's dorm
Synopsis: When the girl you were dating to distract yourself from Remus breaks up with you, spewing nasty words along the way, Remus is there to show you just how wrong the both of you were.
That Daft Cunts got nothin on me, love
Remus Lupin x M! Reader
Honestly, you knew to expect E/N's breakup. You saw the signs, and you'd known it wasn't long before it ended.
Doesn't mean it hurt any less.
You'd spent a good portion of time, locked in your dorm. No ones heard much from you after the letter you got at breakfast, but with the sun high in it's arch across the sky, nearing late noon it was only a matter of time before someone came to find you.
There's a knock at the door, and a muffled voice follows it, raspy and baritone.
Remus.
"Y'alright, love? May I come in?"
"Fuck off," You sniffle out in weak retaliation, furiously swiping your eyes and sniffling.
"Do it yourself?" He quips back playfully. A big reason for the breakup, as stated in E/N's letter (not even in person, that fucking wanker. Through a damn letter) was the proximity of you and Remus.
There's not much denying it, you definitely have had the biggest crush on Remus, and E/N was rather a means of hiding the fact, but it doesn't mean you didn't care. It doesn't mean the insults she'd hurled at you hurt any less, either.
"Right then, in I go.." the door gently creaks open and you bury your face in your favorite S/T. As he sees the sight of you, he comes gently, quickly making his way to your bed on the far side of the room and you feel your bed dip next to your head. You feel as his hand gently starts to massage your scalp, lulling you to a sort of blissful calm.
"Nasty breakup with E/N I take it?"
You nod swiftly, not having removed yourself from the stuffy but having wormed yourself partially into Remus's lap.
"Aw, it's alright lovey, 've gotcha now. What's it read, then?"
"The reasoning were true, but the insults where just bloody mean" You muffled whine quietly rings out.
"Is it alright if I read it?"
As his quiet voice asks the question you've so been dreading, you sigh heavily but finally removed yourself from the toy. All you see is the soft smile pulling at the corners of his lips, and the gentle furrow of his brow as he looks down at you.
You reach across Remus to the bedside table behind him, grabbing a crumpled ball of paper and flattening it, before handing it to him.
You both sit quietly for a moment, you with your head and upper shoulders splayed across his lap, grip strong as a vice on he stuffed toy.
His small smile from seeing you has quickly turned into a angry frown at the words she spewed at you.
"This daft fuckin cunt? Who she thinks she is, saying shit like this? Bloody fuck mate- right as hell id be upset if it's at me." He say with a angry huff of breath, body rigid. Though, he quickly remembers your in his presence and softens again.
"'m sorry that twat said those things, lovey."
"it's alright, I guess. Nothing that wasn't deserved."
"You don't though. Not right of her to say that shit," he pauses for a moment, before his demeanor becomes more nervous," is it true, though? The second or third paragraph had said something about you being in love with me?"
This causes you to stiffen, before hiding your face again.
"...yeah"
"speak up, love. I can't hear you."
You hurt and remove your face.
"Yes. I dated her to forget about you. About... about being in love with a guy."
He pauses at that, his body stiffening but his hand still gently stroking your hair.
"It's not wrong, you know. Being in love with guys. I mean fuck- you know about Sirius. Does that mean he's wrong for who he loves?"
"But he's different"
"How?"
"I-" you huff. "I don't know. It just... it doesn't seem fair to you, Remus"
"How is it wrong to me?"
"Because it's putting you in a position where it'll be awkward."
At this he quirks a brow. "And how is that?"
"Because.."
"Cause how? Because I don't love you back? I assure you I do"
"I-"
You start to speak before his sentence finally hits you. Mouth forming an 'O' shaping and blinking rapidly
"Fucking- what?"
"I love you back. I feel the same towards you as you do me"
"I-..." You pause, face burning a scarlet shade as you lick your lips," Why?"
He laughs lightly as your response.
"Why wouldn't I?"
You blink owlishly at him some more, and he's looking at you mirthfully with that know-it-all smirk of his.
"Kiss me?" You say without thinking.
He laughs heartily leaning down. His lips ghost yours as he murmurs against your lips 'Who am I to deny you, my love?' and gently presses his lips against yours.
He tastes of chocolate and stale coffee. And honestly, he tastes a bit like what you think home would.
as you unwillingly pull away; he murmurs in the love charged quiet; "Promise that daft cunts got noting on me, especially with those fuckin words"
-----
A/N: Sorry if it's not great or ooc. Also, please like reblog and comment!! I love to interact with y'all!!!
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sulfies · 4 months
Text
Based on this glorious chain
Sigh…
Leonardo knows that sigh and what causes it better than anyone because he sighed exactly the same way, at the same time as he and Desmond watched Ezio wipe his forehead with his shirt as his stomach deliciously got bared for their eyes.
He was stacking and moving some crates around for him in the studio.
Leonardo whipped his head to the side and almost gave himself a cramp from it, his eyes wide he stared at Desmond more intensely than he would have wanted.
Because as he mentioned,
he knows THAT sigh…
There was no way but maybe just maybe… he also? There was no other reason for that sigh, there was no naked lady painting hanging behind Ezio and did he mention he JUST knows that sigh… His eyes darted to Ezio then back to Desmond. 
He had to be…
but what if he was wrong…
That look too, he looks at Ezio exactly the same way he does. He just had to be… like him.
Leonardo did not know how he would bring it up, does he even bring it up? Again what if he was wrong, then De-
“God damn, Id lick the sweat off of that man…”
Leonardo’s mind went fully silent for the first time.
“...Am I right?” 
 Leo had to stop himself from almost screaming from the shock, his eyes even wider he stared at Desmond who just slowly turned his head to him with a smile Leonardo recognized that was a copy of Ezio’s shit-eating grin when he talked about “the ladies”. 
Well, that clears it… He coughed to clear his throat mostly and blushing he looked to the side. “I-” he chose just to nod. If he tried to speak right now he fears his voice would crack from how his brain is coming to a full stop. He heard Desmond chuckle “Ugh maybe we should just stop the torture and ask him to take his shirt off so we can actually watch…”
That got an actual yelp from him which made Ezio turn at them.
“What are you two girls gossiping about?”
“First, that's sexist. Second, I was just saying that you should take that sh-”
Leonardo’s hand clapped on Desmond's mouth with a loud slap “HE WAS-” Cough “He was just saying that you should take that STUFF off the crate, the one with the blanket draped over!? T-that one… He thinks he spotted something with… his vision… yea that's it”
He could see Desmond roll his eyes from the corner of his eyes. Ezio knew about Leonardo and was okay with it BUT it didn’t mean the man wouldn’t take offence to being looked at like that!
Desmond ripped his hand away, too easily and just chuckled as Ezio looked at them both with a brow raised.
“Sure… yes, I did can you please go over and look it's like behind the 2nd row?please?”
Ezio huffed, “I just stacked those ones into a pile!”
“Pretty please?”
“Only because you added the pretty.”
Desmond hummed in thanks as Ezio went over the stack and squatted “Which one again?” “The one behind that you have to reach over”
“Things I do for you both…”
Leonardo watched as Ezio got on his knees and used the first row of crates for support as he dug into the parchment and god knows what-filled box with his back to them.
…aaand Desmond sighed again, really how did Leonardo never realize how much Desmond stared “that” way before this. But he was indeed staring at a good “view” of Ezio bending over those crates which gave him a false sense of security that Desmond was satisfied.
“What am I looking for here?” 
Desmond didn't hesitate in his response “Oh for nothing I just wanted to stare at your ass a bit, looks great”
“DESMOND! YOU CAN’T JUST!” 
Leonardo's hands slammed on the table as he whipped his head, he was up from the chair without realizing it, horrified “E-Ezio so sorry a-”
Ezio’s deep chuckle which quickly turned into a belly laugh stopped Leonardo’s terrified rant. He got off from his position and turned on his knees, getting up.
Ezio took a look at Leonardo's face.
“Oh for fucks sake Desmond you are going to give Leonardo a heart attack”
He smiled at Leonardo as his chuckles died down “The stuff I have to stop him from saying out loud everywhere, Mio Amicò… you would think of me as Saint Maria next to this one”
Leonardo was gaping at them like fish out of water. 
“I only speak the truth we all think about and don't be too humble with yourself I know you’ve got a napkin to wipe your sweat…”
“Yeah but then how else would you girls will stay entertained.”
What was going on… Leonardo could not speak, he felt like his brain was melting…
“I think he is shortcircuiting.”
“What does that mean?” “Don't worry about it”
Desmond whistled and snapped his fingers at his face several times, “Yep, we broke him. Did you not tell him abo- oh shit wait you really didn't tell him that swing both ways?! I thought animus just didn’t show me or something I mean it's not like you didn't also bed men-”
Desmond WAS trying to give him a heart attack after all
 “You WHAT?!” “ah that got him back.”
“Desmond! You-” 
Now it was Ezio trying to zip Desmond's mouth.
“You have slept with men before!?” and there was the voice crack he was afraid of, he shrieked more than he talked.
“Well, I was going to If I ever got serious with…” Ezio averted his eyes with a playful smile that didn't hide his blush “Someone special…”
“Wooow I am not special to you?” Desmond quipped back with a teasing tone.
“I mean BEFORE and then… I didn't have the right time…”
Oh…Oooh he got it he suddenly got it…“You two…really?” the look on Ezio's sheepish smile was telling enough “I was going to tell I swear Leo…”
And he could not stop a chuckle that escaped him “Really!? really, Ezio out of all people becomes a sadomite and the man you pick oh so HAPPENS to be a look-alike of you? A prime subject of the Narcissus complex right here!” He wagged his finger teasingly.
the situation now was just funny, the panic had died down... 
“Ouch, my best friend…”
“Eh…”
Leo dreaded what Desmond was going to say.
“... Don't worry Ezio, with how Leo has been looking at us both...There should be a complex for that too right?"
This was a losing battle for Leonardo yet he found himself not caring as sat back down next to Desmond... "Tell me how..." He pointed to Desmond to Ezio "This happend then?"
"Ascolta, è una storia lunga,"
Leonardo pointed at the seat in front of him...
"I have time..."
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kinardsevan · 4 months
Text
BuckTommy/911 fic masterlist
as promised, here is your master list for everything I've written so far (and will continue to update as it changes):
(Divide added because this is getting kinda long now)
UPDATE: UNDER CONSTRUCTION - (this list is getting fairly long, so it may grow in to separate pages as I work on it in the coming days/weeks)
The Song Lyric Series:
Just as the title suggests, these have mostly been lyrically driven. The intention is for them to remain looser than a story, but so far it's been the same plot. (subject to change)
what if there's a little boy that needs a safe place :
Chapters: 1 Rating: M Warnings: n/a
“I’m sorry Evan,” Tommy stated genuinely as he watched Evan drop his towel and then redress. “I honestly don’t know what to say.” Evan huffed, unable to hold all the feelings in any longer. Everything felt so tight—his chest, his throat, his stomach. He couldn’t keep it all buried inside against Tommy’s lack of an answer. OR. The one in which Evan is not okay with a drunk rando flirting with his very beasty, very sexy boyfriend and it leads to professions of love.
they all led me to him (he's one of the good ones:
“I might’ve mentioned fucking you properly earlier this evening,” Tommy says, and even in the midst of wanting the older man to tear his body apart, Evan knows that this moment is as serious for Tommy as it was for Evan earlier. “Yeah,” Buck rasps, unable to stop himself from grinding his hips against Tommy. “Please do so.” “I’m not going to,” Tommy replies softly. OR. Tommy wants Evan to understand just how in love with him he is. Chapters: 1 Rating: E Warnings: n/a
i'll be here (and you can lay by my side) :
Chapters: 2/? Rating: E Warnings: graphic depictions of violence
When Tommy has to look back on this weekend in the years that come to pass, he won’t have the words to express how things went from so right, to so wrong. He’ll struggle to even find a way to comprehend the trauma inflicted by having his soul shredded right in front of his face and absolutely unable to prevent it. And at its worst, he won’t even have words to explain it all. OR. part 3.
Multi-Chapter Stories
your arson's match, my somber smile (the love of my life): Chapters: 4/? Rating: n/a (subject to change) Warnings: graphic depictions of violence
In that moment, the nanosecond in which he had crystal clarity, only one thing mattered to him. As his feet finally slipped out from under him, just before the warped metal came swinging down at another angle, he looked Bobby in the eyes. “Tell Tommy I love him.” And then the world was black.
guilty as sin (i choose you and me, religiously): Chapters: 1/2 Rating: T Warnings: n/a
Buck and Tommy's first kiss, as told through Tommy's POV.
Never Til Now (Rolling Up The Welcome Mat) Chapters: 5/? Rating: M (for themes) Warnings: n/a
"Maybe there’s something about tangibility, about holding the real thing versus just the idea of it, but it cracks something open in him that hasn’t existed in a long time. Because all of a sudden, he can’t imagine not having this. Not getting to see Evan like this, every day. And it’s barely been thirty seconds." - In March 2025, with plans to propose, Tommy realizes Evan wants kids. the problem is, Tommy doesn't. In November of the same year, in a happenstance exchange, he meets their baby girl. (OR, we take a trip through a dual timeline in which the idea and reality of having kids drives Evan and Tommy apart, and then brings them back together.)
The Devil Doesn't Bargain Chapters: 12/? Rating: E Warnings: Rape/Non-con, Self-harm, Suicidality (discussed and attempted), PTSD, Anxiety, ALL THE TRIGGER WARNINGS
Tommy Kinard lived a whole life before he walked into Evan Buckley's life, and it's not one that he's offered up much of so far. Until Evan starts asking questions. Trigger warnings for sexual assault, abuse, and so forth.
you're the only one (who ever gave a damn) Chapters 2/2 Rating: M (for themes and mild sexual content) Warnings: Rape/Non-con
“I um… I don’t know,” he admits softly. “C’mon, Tommy,” Eddie replies. “No, not like that,” Tommy says, looking back up at Eddie. “Not like I don’t have a real excuse. I don’t know like…like I really don’t know, Eddie. I was drunk. I remember being at the bar with you and the other guys, and joking about you and Evan sparring the next time we were going to train, and then…” He pauses, shakes his head. “Nothing. I woke up in a house I didn’t recognize.” Eddie stares at him, coffee cup in hand and mouth slack, and Tommy waits for the judgment to come. He’s fully prepared for Eddie to tell him what a dick he his for going home with some other guy and having drunken sex. But Eddie doesn’t speak. Eventually, he’s quiet so long that it makes Tommy uncomfortable. “Look, I know you’re over there judging me-..” Eddie blinks a few times, shaking out of his reverie as he lowers his coffee mug to the counter. “Tommy, man, that’s not cheating,” he states matter-of-factly.
a set of empty bones chapters: 9/? rating: E warnings: rape/non-con, graphic depictions of violence
“You’re not even paying attention right now,” he growls. “Look, Eddie,” Evan tries, lifting his hands up in surrender. Eddie’s eyes trail from his eyes down to his lips, his chest, and then back up at him, and Evan doesn’t like the way it feels. Something about the entire moment feels uncomfortable to him. Eddie sets the bowl on the counter and puts his hands on Evan’s ribs, pushing him back towards the fridge. “Eddie, man, what’re you doing,” Evan stammers nervously. BTHB: "you can scream all you want", lacerations, betrayal
Minis:
the rhythm of your heartbeat: Evan has night-terrors. Tommy has to contend with them.
you are the reason: post 709 buck/bobby conversation in which Buck makes it to Tommy's.
Connecting: 709 deleted scene. Evan is getting dressed before the medal ceremony, and Tommy's pretty sure he's going to make them late.
oceans deep, rivers wide: Evan has a realization after a work incident. Tommy concurs. burn it to the ground: Tommy knew the first time he kissed Evan Buckley he was burning his whole life to the ground.
for a thousand years (and a thousand more): In which Tommy tells Evan what it was like falling in love with him. 30 Day Fluff Challenge: Concept list found here
Prompt Minis: here
Others/Oneshots:
something stronger than me (i can hardly stand up, i can hardly breathe): Chapters: 1/1 Rating: E (for language) Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, TW: Self-harm, TW: Suicidal ideation
It had been years since he’d been down this low. At least, that’s how he’d been presenting it to others. But in the darkness of his apartment, where his boyfriend couldn’t see his legs because their schedules were conveniently not aligning ever since Gerrard’s arrival…his thighs were coated in fresh wounds.
The Saboteur: Chapters: 1/1 Rating: M (for language) Warnings: TW: homophobic language, TW: harrassment
Five times Tommy Kinard is faced with having to file a complaint against Vincent Gerrard, following his reinstatement at the 118.
take me to the other side Chapters: 1/1 Rating: E (for themes) Warnings: n/a
“So what’s on your mind,” Tommy asks him. “Are you imagining a specific scene? Or a particular want you’re thinking about?” “Not a scene, necessarily,” Evan says, twiddling his thumbs. He’s struggling to piece together the words in the right way to convey what he’s actually wanting. “Okay,” Tommy says, accepting his answer. When Evan doesn’t speak again right away, Tommy prompts him. “I want…?” Evan gulps. “I want…I-i want you to t-t-tie me up."
you're the only one (in the dark, i see) Chapters: 1/1 Ratings: T (for language) Warnings: n/a
He closes the door behind Tommy, his hand still resting on the handle for a beat as he stares at Tommy’s back. He wants answers, and if this is his last chance to get them, then God damn it, Evan’s going to get them. - Tommy breaks up with Evan after Gerrard's return to the 118. Evan is not okay with this decision.
BuckTommy Week 2024
Day 1, Date Night: Rating: General
clay wheels and no ghosting: Tommy and Evan attempt ceramics and talk about things.
Day 2, Emergency: Rating: M (suggestive language)
Under the Weather: Evan and Tommy fall ill
Day 3, Bad Weather Days Rating: M (Graphic Depictions of Violence) Chapters: 2/2 its hurting (but it ain't dead) : Tommy is pissed. No one called him to ask him if he was cool with this idea, and it really doesn’t matter to him in the moment that they didn’t actually have to. It was Evan. They had allowed his boyfriend to put himself in the line of fire without bothering to even ask if that was something he was alright with. He wasn’t even forewarned; just showed up to a scene where they’d been asked to send extra support in plain clothes. But if he’d known…oh, if he’d known…
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denaliwrites · 11 months
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f i c m a s t e r l i s t
p o l i c i e s (please read before making requests!)
b a d s a m a r i t a n The Best of You, Honey, Belongs to Me Blackthorn Cover Myself in the Ashes of You Dumb Ways To Die Enough of You to Dull the Pain (18+) Hellbent Looking For A Godsend Hit Me With Your Best Shot I Got This Feeling On A Summer Day (18+) I'm Gooey in the Middle Baby Let Me Bake In His Eyes A Flaming Glow Intrigued and Afraid Keep You Like An Oath (18+) Killing Me Softly My Baby Shot Me Down (18+) Not Much Between Despair and Ecstasy (18+) Only Touch That Gets Me Melting (18+) Run Rabbit Run (18+) Say My Name Send a Thousand Kings Away Shia Surprise Something Good to Celebrate Stop, Look and Listen, It's Halloween! Taste of a Poison Paradise Trust in Me, Just in Me With Your Scars and Your Lonely Heart Your Body's a Secret Girl and You're About to Spill It (18+)
t h e b o y s Watch That Butcher Burn
b r o a d c h u r c h Always Leave Me With a Hungry Heart Am I Doing This Right? An Art to Life's Distractions Beating Like A Kick Drum Girls Like Girls Like Boys Do It's Been a Long, Long Time Love's Perfect Ache Now and Again We Try to Just Stay Alive Regale You With A Gourd-geous Tale Say You'll Remember Me Say You'll Remember Me (Denali's Version) Tell Me It's A Nightmare What My Heart Was Worth
d o c t o r w h o Cuddle, Meet Puddle Cute Things Don't Blink (Part 1) Don't Turn Your Back (Part 2) Don't Look Away (Part 3) Dreams See Us Through (Part 4) Hate the Feeling of Falling Have a Holly Jolly Christmas Horrible Things Isn't That Wizard It's How I'm Made Let Me Come Home Little Creepy House Love Letters On the Brave Shit The Origin of (Love Bug) Species What Beautiful Things I'll Wear When the Crypt Doors Creak You Know That I Would Jump Too
d u c k t a l e s Tales of Daring
g o o d o m e n s All I Want For Christmas Aziraphale's Favorite Author Dance on a Tightrope of Weird Free as My Hair His Love is All in Me How the Wine Plays Tricks on My Tongue Lockdown Blues Making Biscuits My Heart's a Stereo Naked in That Garden (18+) Out There Making DuckTales Pickin' Up the Pieces of the Mess You Made Road to Hell Something Meaty For The Main Course Step Too Far Tongue Tied Your Love is Holy (18+)
f a l l o f t h e h o u s e o f u s h e r Tomorrow I Shall Be Fetterless (18+)
f r i g h t n i g h t Emptiness to Melody Everybody Scream in Our Town of Halloween Fixed Up to the Nines Howl Like an Animal in the Darkness I'm So Hot I'd Fuck Myself (18+) I'm Starvin', Darlin', Let Me Put My Lips to Somethin' Late Night Devil Put Your Hands On Me (18+) Make Me Glow Night of Long Fangs (18+) Parade of Dancing Skeletons Talk So Pretty (18+) Who Are You Supposed To Be, Criss Angel? (18+)
h a u n t i n g o f b l y m a n o r ???
j u r a s s i c p a r k / w o r l d Best Behavior The Future Ex Mrs. Malcolm
p r o d i g a l s o n But Then My Stupid Phone Beeps Never Fallen From Quite This High Office Supplies Rude Boy They are the Hunters, We are the Foxes Trigger Happy With a Sense of Poise (18+)
s l o w h o r s e s Imposing Figure
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