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yandere-writer-momo · 1 year ago

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No one asked but I’ve decided to post one of my favorite original smut works!

Yandere Short Story: Insatiable

Yandere monster x Afab reader x Yandere ex fiancé

Minors DNI

8.4k words

“Cedric?” A tall, dark haired man glanced up from his paper work to see his small wife at the door. His red eyes gazing at her coldly. “Oh, sorry… my lord. You didn’t reply to any of my letters so I decided to come see you myself. I was wondering if you had time to-“

“I’m busy with work. How about you go take a walk or something seeing that you’re not busy with anything.” Cedric replied coldly, causing the young woman to glance sadly at her hands.

“Oh… I’m sorry-“

“Stop with your needless apologies and shut my door. You’re letting the cold air in.” Cedric hissed before returning to his mountain of paper work.

“Good bye, my lord.” (Your name) softly whispered, a sad look in her eye. The young woman shutting the door before looking at the small, cloth bag beside her. Its contents being one change of clothes, a pouch of water, and some bread.

(Your name) had finally decided to leave him. Her feelings for him had gradually disappeared over the years of being engaged to him seeing that he couldn’t even return a fraction of what she felt for him. It was time for her to leave this loveless, joyless place and to go live as a commoner. Hopefully Cedric would eventually read the letter she had sent him a few days ago about annulling their marriage.

The young woman pulled her tattered cloak over her head, making her way down the manor’s steps with ease.

Not a single servant paying her any mind. A smile made its way to her lips at the thought of finally no longer having to sit in her cold room up in the tower. How she’d be able to travel wherever she wanted and maybe she’d even find someone to love her eventually. How she could finally have friends that didn’t need her husband to pay them to talk to her.

(Your name) soon stood outside the gloomy palace, a smile on her lips. The young woman giving the palace one last look before she headed into the forest.

“Good bye. I won’t miss you.” She then headed into the dark silent forest. Set on leaving the Southern empire forever.

“This tea is bland and terrible.” Cedric complained to his maid who began to sweat nervously. “Why isn’t it here on its usual time and why isn’t it its normal flavor?”

“Ah… the duchess usually takes care of that…” the maid replied before giving the lord a bow. “None of us have seen her in awhile so we had to brew some older leaves.”

Cedric sighed before rising from his chair, causing the maid to gulp at how large he was.

“That stupid woman. I’ll go see what she’s up to now then I guess.” Cedric made his way towards the east end of the manor, climbing up the flight of stairs to (your name)’s room.

A frown forming on his face when he didn’t see a single servant on this side of the manor. Where were all the servants? Shouldn’t she have some around here to clean it?

Cedric stood before the door at the top of the tower. His hand pressing against the old wood. A frown on his face.

“My lady. Can you open the door?” No response.

“My lady?” Cedric pressed his knuckle against the door, causing the door to squeal open. Red eyes widening in shock at the tattered blanket that sat on top of a pile of hay. This couldn’t be her room…

Where was her bed? Her dresses? Cedric burst into the room examining everything in disbelief.

“Can I lay with you, Cedric? It’s starting to get cold?”

Cedric frowned at the memory. (Your name) really was cold wasn’t she? And he always turned her away…

A small desk with letters littering the top of it caught his attention. Was this the only thing she had in her room? As a duchess, she only had this small desk?

Red eyes narrowed at all the letters that were dated and addressed to him. Cedric quickly opened one of the older letters his eyes softening at its contents.

‘I finally was able to get the maids to teach me how to make that chamomile tea you like so much. I hope we’ll be able to drink it together someday. When you’re not busy of course. I love you, Cedric.’

Cedric opened another letter, a dried sprig of baby’s breath falling out of the envelop. His pale fingers picking it up with utmost care. Red eyes scanning over the delicate hand writing.

‘Did you know baby’s breath means everlasting love? Isn’t that neat? I hope that our love is ever lasting as well. I’d like to go on a picnic with you while it’s still spring. If you’re not busy of course. I love you, Cedric.’

‘Today, I saw a pair of swans in the pond in the garden. Did you know swans stay together for life? I read that in a book in the library. I thought it was pretty neat. Maybe it’s childish of me to think that way, but I hope we’ll be like that. I love you, Cedric.’

Cedric continued to tear apart the letters with fervor. Sweat dripping down his neck as his hands began to shake. All of these letters and he’s never read any of them from her… he always returned them back to her… always ignored her… he was starting to get scared…

‘It’s getting colder up in the tower but the maids took my bed. They said they’re freezing too. Is there anyway I could also have some new blankets. I hope that’s not too much of a bother for you. Thank you. I love you, Cedric.’

‘I’ve been sleeping in the library over the winter. I hope that doesn’t interfere with your work. I heard there’s a ball upcoming in the neighboring empire. I’ve never been to a ball before. Is there anyway we could go? I’d really like a new dress. The one I had all these years is starting to get a little loose since we’re so scarce on food. Thank you. I love you, Cedric.’

There was no scarcity in food. Who on earth hadn’t the servants been feeding her? Who took her bed? Her blankets?

Cedric sorted through the letters until the last one stuck out to him.

His pale hand opened the letter, his eyes widening in shock. She had filled out divorce papers… why would she do that?

‘I don’t think you’re ever going to read this until you’ve realized I left. But I want a divorce. I can’t live like this. It’s so cold and miserable here. No one talks to me here. I found out that the only acquaintance I had here, you were paying to talk to me so I wouldn’t bother you… and I was really hurt by that. If I’m really that awful to be with, I’ll go. I just want you to be happy, Cedric. Even if it’s not with me. So good bye, Cedric. If you try to have a conversation with me in a few days I may reconsider but if not, you’ll find this then. I’ll probably be halfway through the forest by then. Good bye, Cedric.’

Cedric began to shake. She had stopped by his office and he had turned her away… he unknowingly sent her away… he sent his loving wife away in the wild… wait.

Didn’t she know the forest was infested with monsters?

“Guards! Hurry. Send a search party to the forest, now!” Cedric threw the letter to the side, screaming on the top of his lungs. His legs running as fast as he could down the steps and through the palace.

The guards rising up in shock before quickly springing into action.

“The duchess has gone missing! She could be in danger!” Cedric shouted, the Duke running to grab his sword and horse. “We have to find her by all means necessary!”

Cedric frowned as he glanced at the dark forest. His eyebrows furrowed in worry. He prayed she was safe. He was so lucky he noticed her absence in just a day…

(Your name) hummed as she walked through the forest without a care in the world. So far, she’s been lucky and she hasn’t ran into a single monster.

She knew there was a possibility she could run into danger but she truly believed the monsters wouldn’t bother her if she didn’t have a weapon on her. Plus, there wasn’t much meat on her bones since she wasn’t being fed at the palace.

“Don’t you know there’s monsters in the woods?” A voice hissed at (your name), causing the girl to glance at a tall man wearing silver armor with an unfamiliar, blue crest on it. The silver helmet completely covering his face.

Well at this point in her journey, she’s going to disregard the stranger danger rule.

“Oh I know. I’m just passing through is all.”

“Either you’re a very brave woman or a very stupid one.” A laugh left her throat as she smiled at the stranger.

“A little of both. I’m just going anywhere to start a new.” The girl smiled at the knight before continuing her way.

“Wait up!” The male trudged after her, standing above her. “You can’t just go walking in the forest by yourself. What if you get kidnapped or killed-“

“Then I get kidnapped or killed.” The knight held in a laugh before offering her an arm.

“I can lead you out of the forest if you’d like. My name is Etrian by the way.”

“That’s a nice name.” (Your name) replied, taking the knights arm. “You can just call me (your first name).”

“Hmm. You have a pretty name.” Etrian smiled at the girl, causing her to furrow her brow.

“It’s a very basic name. It’s not even worth remembering so you can call me anything you’d like.” Etrian tilted his helmet down in worry at her words. Wherever she came from, she more than likely never was treated with kindness.

“I like your name so I’ll call you, (your name).” Etrian replied, causing (your name) to giggle.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed… thank you, Etrian.” Etrian gave (your name)’s hand a comforting squeeze.

“I was on my way to the Lancaster Palace but I think a damsel in distress is much more important at the moment.” Etrian puffed his chest out, causing (your name) to erupt in giggles again.

“Maybe I should call you the brave one then for traveling alone, Etrian.” (Your name) gave Etrian a smile, the male shaking his head in embarrassment.

“It’s a knight’s duty.”

(Your name) laughed some more, allowing Etrian to lead her through the forest. Their playful banter continuing.

Cedric searched the woods with fervor. Easily slaying any monster that crossed paths with them.

“My lord. We found the body of the Northern empire’s diplomat and his party but…”

“But what? Did you find the Duchess?!” Cedric hissed, his red eyes coldly looking at the corpses of the northern empire’s men. But one was missing their armor.

“Where’s his armor?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. It appears a monster may be parading around as a knight.” Cedric sighed before glancing nervously in the forest. He really hoped (your name) didn’t run into that monster…

“Etrian. Do you like being a knight?” (Your name) asked her companion who hummed in response.

“Not really. It’s kind of boring actually.” Etrian responded, his eyes glancing at (your name). “Especially listening to a lord’s orders all the time and standing guard? It sucks.”

(Your name) laughed at his response. “At least you’re honest, Etrian.”

“What about you, (your name)? What were you?”

(Your name) smiled sadly as she glanced at the forest floor, causing Etrian to raise his hands up in alarm.

“Oh I didn’t mean to upset you-“

“I was nothing.” (Your name) replied with a solemn look in her eye. “Have you ever felt like that before? Like nothing? My existence didn’t matter where I came from before and after I ended up here.”

Etrian placed a gentle, leather gloved hand on (your name)’s arm. “No I understand completely.”

“Thanks, Etrian. You’re really nice even though I think you’re really strange.”

“How am I strange?”

“You abandoned the task at hand for me, which is very suspicious. But I appreciate you traveling and talking with me… I can’t remember the last time I actually had a conversation with someone.”

Etrian gave her a nod, trying his best not to have his helmet fall off his head.

“Isn’t that helmet uncomfortable? You could always take it off.” Etrian held up his hands as he began to laugh.

“Maybe once we make it out of the forest.”

“Alright. Keep your secrets then.” (Your name) giggled, Etrian watched her walk a little further a head. A black tentacle creeping out from the helmet before quickly slipping back in.

Cedric continued searching, a smile on his face once he saw a pair of footprints.

“She went this way!” Cedric shouted to his men. The men all nodding their heads before following the tracks. “She can’t be far-“

Cedric’s red eyes widened when he saw a second pair of footprints beside hers. Their tracks barely as visible as hers.

“The monster is with her!” Cedric began to breath heavily, his hands shaking as he held the reigns to his horse tightly. He was going to find her. Cedric just prayed nothing happened to her.

“Etrian. You’re really light on your toes.” (Your name) stated, causing Etrian to laugh. “Do you like sneaking around?”

“It’s just an unconscious habit of mine-“ an arrow whizzed by Etrian’s head, causing a scream to leave (your name)’s throat.

“Jesus-“

“My lady, step away from the monster!” one of the knights from the southern empire shouted, pointing his bow and arrow at Etrian.

“Monster? That’s Etrian-“ (your name) replied, only for more knights to show up.

“One of the knight’s armor was missing at the carriage accident up ahead-“

“I can actually explain that.” Etrian replied as he grasped the helmet of his armor before pulling it off. Revealing a handsome man with long silver hair and blue eyes to all the knights. “It’s me. Duke Graham.”

“Duke Graham?! I can’t believe it’s you!” One of the knights laughed, the others all releasing their breath that they were unconsciously holding. “You were the only one missing from the carriage.”

(Your name)’s eyes widened in horror. While everyone else saw a handsome man, she saw a giant black octopus like creature as the head of the knight. Her body started convulsing in shivers.

“Are you alright, (your name)?” Etrian asked with worry laced in his voice, reaching a hand out to her. The tentacles moving in every which way, causing (your name) to hyperventilate and take a step back in fear.

“(Your name)!” Cedric rushed over to her, quickly separating her from the monstrous Duke. Cedric quickly dismounting his horse to hold (your name). “I’m so sorry. Please don’t run off again.”

(Your name) didn’t return Cedric’s hug, her eyes focused on the black octopus monster that was known as Etrian.

“Let’s head back home, okay? And Duke Graham. You can ride on one of the other horses we have here with one of the knights. My wife will ride with me.” Cedric stated, hoisting (your name) up on his horse.

(Your name) cast one last look at Etrian, the tentacles waving at her which on caused her to tear up even more.

While with the guards, they only saw Etrian give (your name) a warm smile and a wave. Why was she so scared of him? It wasn’t like she was seeing a monster.

“Why did you try to run off into the forest?” Cedric asked (your name) who sat in the sofa in his office with a blanket tightly wrapped around her. “You could’ve died-“

“It would’ve been better than being here.” (Your name) muttered, pulling the soft blanket closer to herself. “Anything is better than here.”

Cedric stood up from his desk, sitting himself beside (your name).

“I’m going to start being a better husband. I moved your room to be next to mine now and you have a bed again. I also am currently working on investigating all of the staff that has mistreated you. They’re going to have their hands cut off for stealing and then exiled-“

“That’s alright. You don’t have to do any of those things.” (Your name) sighed, wrapping the blanket around her even tighter. “I would like to head to my room. I’m quite tired.”

Cedric held a hand out for (your name) to take, which she ignored. The young woman choosing to stand up with her blanket securely wrapped around her.

“Would you like to have dinner together then?”

“No. Just send it to my room please. It’s kind of late for all of those things, don’t you think?” (Your name) asked, avoiding eye contact with Cedric.

“I… I’ll try more. Just please don’t run off like that again.”

(Your name) opened the door to her room before shutting it quickly. The duchess laying down on the bed in defeat. She really was wishing she would’ve left this place.

It was a shame Cedric had no intention of letting her go. Not to mention that Etrian was also staying with them for the time being.

Etrian sat in Cedric’s office sipping some hot tea. Blue eyes meeting red orbs.

“Thanks for keeping my wife safe-“

“Why did she run off?” Etrian hummed, causing Cedric to glare at him.

“It’s none of your concern, Duke Graham.” Cedric hissed, causing Etrian to smile. Cedric narrowed his eyes at the doll like man.

“She’s really pretty.” Etrian smiled at the peeved expression on Cedric’s face.

“What brings you to the Southern Empire?” Cedric gritted his teeth at Etrian who only gave him a hum.

“Mostly for trading business but seeing that my men were mauled to death and looted by your monster infested forest, I’ll have to wait awhile till we can proceed in business. I may have to stay here awhile as well.”

Cedric sighed in defeat. His red eyes narrowing at Etrian. This was probably the most Etrian has spoken to Cedric in their entire life so far… and it irked Cedric.

“Alright. I can let you stay for awhile. Just please don’t cause any trouble for me.”

“I won’t.” Etrian smiled, causing Cedric to place a hand on his temple.

“I’ll have the maids organize a room for you.”

Etrian beamed at Cedric, his blue orbs shining mischievously. He couldn’t wait to see (your name) again.

Etrian wandered the halls, ignoring the excited whispers of the maids when he passed by. The silver haired man had adjusted well to the staff’s ramblings of his appearance.

“Isn’t Duke Graham really handsome?” One of the maids asked another, causing the other maid to nod in agreement.

“Just like a porcelain doll.”

“I heard he’s unmarried.”

Etrian made his way over to the library, his blue eyes widening once he saw (your name) sitting in a chair in the far back corner. Her focus completely on the book in front of her.

“Ah. (Your name).” Etrian smiled at the duchess, who gave him a nervous glance. Her eyes completely avoiding eye contact with him. “May I sit with you?”

“S-sure.” Etrian pulled out the chair beside (your name), the wooden legs squealing across the floor.

“What are you reading?” Etrian asked, causing (your name) to nervously glance up from her book.

“Oh it’s just a fairy tale story…” (your name) shyly replied causing Etrian to furrow his brow.

“I’m quite fond of fairy tales. Which one is it?”

“Beauty and the beast...”

“That’s my favorite one.” Etrian smiled, his tentacles flailing around excitedly, much to (your name)’s fear. “My mother used to read it to me all the time as a child.”

“That’s really nice.” Etrian tentacles suddenly laid flat on the table, one of them laying on (your name)’s shoulder as if to show that he was concerned for her.

“What’s wrong? You haven’t really looked at me since the forest.” (Your name) gulped, her hands trembling when the tentacles began to slowly caress her body.

“I… I’ve just never seen anyone that looks like you is all…” (your name) replied honestly. She wasn’t wrong. She’s never seen someone with a black octopus like head before and she was terrified.

“Oh… is my appearance not to your liking-“

“My lady. The lord is looking for you.” The butler interrupted her and Etrian’s conversation, the young woman quickly rising up to her feet.

“Ah. Sorry, Etrian. I have to get going.”

Etrian clutched his chest, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Could she really see him for what he truly was?

Etrian glanced at the book she was reading in awe. Was their story going to be just like beauty and the beast? Pure ecstasy consuming him.

She had to be just like his dad. His mom always told him his soul mate would be able to see his true form just like dad could see hers.

“(Your name)…” Etrian couldn’t wait to find out.

“You called for me, my lord?” (Your name) bowed her head to Etrian, who frowned at her formality.

“I did call for you, (your name).” Cedric motioned for his butler to go bring some tea for the two of them. “I’d like to have some tea with you-“

“I’m not very fond of tea.” (Your name) wrapped her arms around herself, ignoring the disappointed look on Cedric’s face. “But thank you for the invite.”

“How about a walk in the garden? You love the garden.” Cedric asked, a hopeful tune in his voice. (Your name) frowned. Didn’t he acknowledge that she had sent him divorce papers? Why on earth was he trying to court her now, of all times?

“Alright…” Cedric held out an arm for her, which (your name) hesitantly took. The dark haired Duke leading her down the halls and towards the garden.

A certain silver haired man watching them from the library’s window. His blue eyes studying the discomfort on (your name)’s face.

“You’re not comfortable around that man are you, (your name)?” Etrian softly whispered to himself, his blue eyes memorizing her soft features on her pretty face. “I wonder if I can make you smile again…”

Etrian’s shadow revealed his tentacles flailing about in excitement. The birds that sat near the window quickly flying away in fear of the monster that was in the palace.

It was a stiff silence between Cedric and (your name). The two walking side by side in the garden without muttering a word to each other.

“There’s some swans in the pond, (your name)…” Cedric smiled, softly breaking the silence. His red eyes glancing at her face, his eyes lighting up when he saw her smile at the swan pair.

He had finally found something that seemed to make her smile… Cedric was starting to get really worried about saving their relationship, especially with someone like Etrian in their home. Cedric had to admit that he was jealous of how beautiful Etrian was but he felt that there was something incredibly off about the silver haired male. Even when they were children, he was almost completely emotionless but he wasn’t that way around (your name)… it was very unsettling to Cedric.

“(Your name), do you like Etrian?” (Your name) froze, her eyes wide at Cedric’s question.

“I wouldn’t say like or dislike… I’m…” Afraid. (Your name) thought to herself. I’m afraid of him. “Indifferent towards him. He’s a Duke from the northern empire so I have to be respectful to him is all.”

Cedric hummed, the Duke satisfied with her answer. His wife was a very respectful young lady, he didn’t doubt her answer at all.

(Your name) narrowed her eyes at Cedric. Cedric couldn’t be jealous, could he? It wasn’t his place after years of being together without him ever caring about her personal life or feelings.

“It’s cold. I’m ready to head back inside.” The couple made their way back in, unaware that Etrian had overheard their conversation.

The silver haired man determined to have (your name) change her mind about him.

Etrian had found out many things about (your name) over the last few weeks he’s been staying in the Lancaster’s palace.

(Your name) used to live in a tower here, she didn’t like tea, she liked to write and read, her favorite food was (favorite food), she liked to eat pudding sometimes as well, her favorite color was (favorite color), and she was almost always alone. Just like Etrian usually was.

Etrian was thrilled to be finding out all this information from the maids who were more than thrilled to talk to him. The Duke was especially happy that one of the maids had even slipped up and told him that (your name) was trying to divorce the Duke. It made Etrian’s heart soar at the thought of (your name) being on the market for marriage.

It wasn’t very hard for him to bribe one of the maids into sending that paper work to the emperor either. Which would make his end goal even easier to achieve.

Etrian peaked his head in the library, a smile on his face when he saw (your name) sitting in a chair, sketching some birds that sat in the window. He’d have to add drawing to his mental list of her hobbies.

“Hello, (your name).” (Your name) nearly jumped out of her shoes when Etrian snuck up behind her. One of his tentacles affectionately caressing her cheeks, something she tried to ignore.

“H-hi, Etrian.” (Your name) responded quietly. Placing her pencil down on the table.

“I haven’t seen you in a minute. I missed seeing you around.” (Your name) tried to hold her tears in when his tentacles slowly began to wrap around her body, caressing her affectionately.

Over the course of Etrian’s stay, she’s noticed that his tentacles tend to tell his emotions. She could tell when he was excited, upset, annoyed, happy, or even sad. And the tentacles were especially fond of her, touching her any chance they got, much to her displeasure.

“I’ve been around. I’ve just been spending a lot of time with my husband is all.” (Your name) tried not to flinch when she saw the tentacles suddenly point at her like swords. It’s seems she upset Etrian by mentioning Cedric. “I didn’t mean to neglect you.”

The tentacles instantly relaxed, going back to their idle position of affectionately caressing her.

“How about you draw me?” Etrian asked, a soft smile on his lips. He really wanted to know how (your name) saw him.

(Your name) smiled, opening a new page to her sketchbook, her body shaking when Etrian took a seat in front of her. The black tentacles retracting into themselves, as if they too, were folding together like his black gloved hands on the table.

(Your name) shakily got to work. Tears gathering in her eyes as she continued sketching the monster she saw in front of her.

Etrian frowned at her nervous expression. Why was she so nervous? Didn’t she understand that they were soulmates because she could see him?

(Your name) glanced up, her face going pale when she saw two tentacles directly pointed at her eyes. The tentacles opening up to reveal two icy blue eyes staring directly at her.

Etrian smiled brightly. She finally made eye contact with him-

A lord thump was heard, (your name) had fallen out of her chair. Etrian quickly rose up, his hand grasping (your name)’s shoulders, helping her up.

“Are you alright, (your name)?” His eyes widened at the drawing that she had made so far. A dark octopus like head sat on top of his body, a deranged smile crawling on Etrian’s lips. He was so excited. She could see him.

“I-I’m sorry, Etrian. I… I need to go.” (Your name) stuttered out before she grabbed her book. “I’ll see you around!”

Etrian could only watch as she took off, his blue eyes glancing at the pencil she had dropped in excitement.

She could see him… she could see him. The real him. The monstrous curse his mother and him both had.

Etrian picked up the discarded pencil, blue eyes glancing around the library, making sure no one was watching him.

Etrian then placed the pencil in his mouth, suckling on the wooden utensil as his eyes rolled back in his head. Etrian wondered how her fingers would taste in his mouth when he-

Oh he was getting a little too far ahead of himself. He needed to calm down a bit before revealing his insatiable lust for her.

A very disturbed Cedric stood outside of the library. Why in the world was Etrian eating a pencil?

The dark haired Duke now more determined than ever to keep Etrian away from his wife. By all means necessary.

(Your name) laid in her bed. Her form covered in a lightweight, white gown. It was a little chilly at night, but nothing she couldn’t manage. It was the feeling of eyes on her that she couldn’t shake off.

(Your name) slowly rose from the bed, shutting the curtain to her balcony. The feeling still not leaving her. Perhaps she was being paranoid after the library incident.

(Your name) made her way back to bed, the duchess pulling as many blankets as she could on top of herself. Maybe if she went to sleep, she’d be able to relax?

As (your name) drifted off, she failed to notice a body laying under her bed. A certain silver haired man crawled out from underneath her bed before he stood over her, blue eyes greedily taking in the sight before him.

Tentacles gently began to caress her body, a soft groan leaving her throat before she unconsciously cuddled into the warm appendages, causing a smile to crawl on Etrian’s face.

He knew she would grow used to him. Maybe if he started visiting her every night, she’d stop fearing him as much. Etrian reached a hand out to brush some of her hair out of her face.

His soulmate was so pretty and cute… he couldn’t wait to steal her away from here…

Etrian hummed before walking over to her little desk in the corner. The male setting down a small (favorite flavor) pudding on her desk.

Hopefully she’d like his little surprise for her.

(Your name) had terrible nightmares last night about a certain tentacle man. Her body covered in a light sheen of sweat.

“My lady, your husband would like to have breakfast with you.” One of the maids said at the door, the maid’s eyes widening at the helping of pudding on (your name)’s desk. “Did you order pudding last night?”

“Pudding?” (Your name) furrowed her brow in confusion before her eyes widened in shock at the (favorite flavor) pudding that sat on her desk. “I didn’t ask for pudding…”

(Your name) smiled softly. Maybe Cedric had gotten her some. He has been a lot more attentive lately.

“Tell him I’ll be there. I just have to clean up a bit.”

The maid nodded before heading off, leaving (your name) to wonder who left her the mystery pudding.

“Thank you for the pudding, Cedric.” Cedric furrowed his brow in confusion at (your name)’s statement. “It was a nice sweet treat to have after a nightmare last night.”

“Pudding? I never sent you pudding.” (Your name)’s face turned pale at Cedric’s words, a concerned look now on Cedric’s face as well.

“Then who knew I liked pudding and even my favorite flavor?” (Your name) nervously glanced over to the side. A certain man with a black octopus head, began to flail around excitedly before holding its tentacles like a shy school girl. And why were they slightly wet this time?

Cedric followed her gaze, his eyes narrowing at the stoic Duke. There was no way Etrian was holding a torch for his wife right? Etrian wouldn’t sneak into her room to drop off pudding… no. Etrian was eating a pencil the other day. There was a chance Etrian was weird enough to break into a lady’s room.

“Good morning, Duke and Duchess Lancaster.” Etrian bowed to the other dukes, his blue eyes studying Cedric face while his tentacles excitedly rubbed (your name) face. “I will be heading back to my empire in a week. I had a lovely stay here.”

“I’m happy to hear that, Duke Graham.” Cedric gave Etrian a tight lipped smile, red eyes focused on the uncomfortable expression on (your name)’s face.

“I also heard a fun little rumor during my stay here.” Etrian placed a hand over his chin, an amused expression on his face. “I heard you two are getting a divorce.”

“That isn’t going to happen now-“

“Well you should’ve told that one little maid. Seems she sent the paperwork over to the emperor-“ Cedric quickly rose to his feet, his loud voice booming at the staff to quickly intercept the letter to the emperor.

Etrian and (your name) now the only two left in the dining room. Etrian turned his head towards (your name), causing her to gulp in fear.

“You’ll be single by the end of this week and I’ll be leaving home. When the emperor gets that letter, you’ll be demoted to a commoner.” Etrian cooed, his tentacles tightly wrapping around (your name), Etrian pulling her hand up to his face. Her body flinching when she felt his soft lips press against her hand. “So why don’t you become my wife? You won’t have to live as a commoner then and I’ll treat you well. Plus you can see what no one else can…”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb. You can see me. The real me. And I can show you pleasure you’ve never felt before. Just think about it. I have 8 extra appendages compared to the average man.” Etrian whispered in her ear. “I’m also one of the richest men in the four empires. You’ll never have to struggle or starve again.”

“Why me?” (Your name) whimpered, the tentacles slowly moving lower on her body, a few teasingly squeezing her legs and hips.

“Because you can see me just like my dad can see my mom. Don’t you get it? We’re soulmates, baby.”

(Your name) nearly cried when he pulled away. The tentacles smoothing out the wrinkles in her clothes.

“Just think about it, okay?” Etrian smiled, the tentacles flailing around excitedly. “I promise you’ll be very happy.”

“You bastard!” An angry Cedric hissed, a fist colliding into Etrian’s face, the silver haired man barely moving. The tentacles now pointing at Cedric like swords, causing (your name) to freeze in terror. “Why would you do that?! You sent that letter a week ago-“

“You don’t appreciate your wife. I found all those letters, Cedric.” A taunting chuckle escaped Etrian’s throat, the tentacles sharpening as they prepared to strike Cedric at any moment. “You’ve probably never even touched her-“

“Please stop!” (Your name) stood in between the two, tears cascading down her face. Cedric’s heart clenching at her terrified expression. It was just an argument, why was she so scared? “I’ll go with you. Just please don’t hurt Cedric. Please…”

Cedric froze when he saw the thrilled smile on Etrian’s face. Leather gloves hands held (your name) face with such tenderness, it made Cedric sick to his stomach.

“I’ll make you so happy. You’ll never be sad again.” Etrian cooed, his blue eyes gleaming at Cedric. “You can stay in my room for the time being seeing to it that you’re now a single woman. I’ll get you a nice pretty ring when we reach my empire.”

“What does he mean (your name)? You’re not going to marry him are you?” Cedric froze at the defeated look on (your name)’s face. Her (eye color) orbs tiredly glancing at Cedric.

“I’m sorry, Cedric.” Cedric could only hug himself as he watched his wife be dragged away by Etrian. The silver haired Duke excitedly droning on and on about how much she was going to love their new life together.

Cedric peaked through the doorway of (your name) and Etrian’s room. His heart clenching when he saw how he tenderly held her in his arms.

It wasn’t fair… if Cedric never messed up, she would’ve never met Etrian… she would’ve never divorced him… they’d still be happy…

But were they ever happy? No… Cedric couldn’t remember the last time they shared a smile together or even a dance. Cedric never really deserved her… but he didn’t think Etrian did either.

Cedric could only watch as (your name) and Etrian headed off to the northern empire in a carriage together. The silver haired man fretting over her every need while Cedric could only watch from his study’s window in utter distaste and envy.

“My lord, she left you a sketchbook.” Cedric glanced at the book, tears gather in his eyes as he looked at all the intricate drawings of birds. The swans being his favorite.

The last drawing was what made Cedric’s blood run cold. A terrifying eldritch monster with a black octopus head over Etrian’s body stared back at him, a small note in the bottom of making a shiver run down Cedric’s spine.

‘I can see him, Cedric. He likes that I can see him. Help me.’

Now Cedric knew why she was so terrified of Etrian… it was because he was a monster.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my mother.” Etrian cooed, his tentacles excitedly flailing around the carriage. One grasping (your name)’s chin. “You’ll like her.”

“(Your name)… are you sad?” Etrian asked, the male grasping her hands in his gloved ones. “You won’t ever feel like nothing here. I’ll treat you to whatever you like.”

(Your name) could only fully glance out the window. Her heart aching as she began to miss Cedric. She hoped he would at least be happy…

A tentacle suddenly gave her a tight squeeze while another forced her head to look at Etrian. Smooth lips pressing against her own, her body shaking in fear as the tentacles began to grope her body.

Etrian pulled away, her eyes widening when she finally got to see some semblance of a face on the man. A smile crawling on Etrian’s face.

“There. Don’t think of other men around me. I don’t like it.”

(Your name) could only silently cry as Etrian continued to press kisses on her face. His lips burning her with the passion he held for her.

“We’re going to have our wedding in a few days time once we arrive. Is there somewhere you’d like to go? Or something you’d like to do when we get there?”

“I’m alright for now. Thank you, Etrian.” (Your name) politer responded, folding her hands in her lap nervously.

Etrian smiled before continued to excitedly chatter on about the wedding. His tentacles dancing around excitedly.

A regal woman with long silver hair and bright blue eyes stood outside of the Graham palace. Her cold gaze focusing on the carriage that had arrived.

Former Duchess Guinevere had gotten the news that her son had found a bride while he was in the southern empire. She just didn’t think her son would latch onto the other duke’s former wife so quickly.

Her eyes glared at the pretty young woman who exited the carriage, her eyes widening when she saw her son’s tentacles all over the girl. The girl subtly trying to push them off. Her son had found his soulmate… Etrian had found his soulmate!

A bright smile was on the former duchess’s lips, the servants immediately blushing and whispering to each other. Guinevere never smiled and here she was smiling at the fiancée her son had brought.

“Welcome home, son. I see you brought me home a daughter as well.” Guinevere smiled, her blue eyes gazing intensely at the trembling woman who wouldn’t look her in the eye. Was it a possibility she could see Guinevere’s true form as well? How interesting…

(Your name) tried her best not to cry at how much larger the octopus like creature that Etrian called his mother was. She was terrified at how the other woman’s tentacles were poking her face as well.

“It’s very nice to make your acquaintance, duchess.”

A hearty laugh let the woman’s throat, the regal woman gesturing for her servants to make her new family member feel welcome.

“Please. Call me mother.”

(Your name) tried her best not to cry at the feast Etrian’s family held for them. Etrian’s mother’s tentacles were all over the former Duke. Who didn’t seem to mind as much as (your name) did.

“Welcome, my dear. I see you’re still getting used to Etrian’s… quirks.” The former Duke, Rolfe, smiled at the young couple. His eyes narrowing at his son intensely staring at (your name). “Etrian, I’d like for you to start a toast for your lovely fiancée here.”

Etrian quickly sprang to his feet, one of his gloved hands holding (your name)’s. While to other held up a glass of Chardonnay.

“I’d like to raise a toast to my lovely fiancée, (your name). I cannot wait to be wed to such a lovely girl who can stand to be around the real me.” No she could not. (Your name) was doing her best not to pass out at the table right then and there at all the eyes (and tentacles) that were on her.

“(Your name), my dear. I’m so happy my son seems so fond of you. He was such a lonely boy growing up…” Guinevere sighed, her tentacles cradling her body as she continued to talk about Etrian. “He loves reading all the time. I swear he loved books more than his own mother-“

“Mother. Please. You’re embarrassing me.” (Your name) could only smile politely as Etrian’s tentacles pulled her closer to him. The male pressing a kiss to her head.

Guinevere only smiled all knowingly at her son and husband. Rolfe sighing before gazing at the young couple. “You both have our blessing. We can have the wedding as soon as you’d like-“

“Tomorrow.” Etrian stated boldly, causing his father to laugh.

“Impatient just like your mother was.” (Your name) could only watch as Rolfe tenderly caressed his wife’s affectionate tentacles. “I’ll send some dress makers down to your room tonight then.”

“Dear, remember when we were young?” The older couple soon got into a private and affectionate banter. The two giggling and whispering to each other like a young couple in love.

“See? You’ll be happy here.” Etrian stated, the young Duke pulling out (your name)’s chair. “How about we go on a walk while those two continue to flirt?”

(Your name) nodded, hesitantly taking Etrian’s hand as the much taller male lead her out of the dining room.

Her octopus fiancé motioning to the portraits on the wall of the most beautiful family she’s ever seen. Rolfe being the only one she recognized in the portraits.

“Who are they?”

“You don’t recognize your own fiancé?” Etrian chuckled as he pointed to the tall handsome man with long silver hair in the portrait. “I’m right there or can you only see these?”

(Your name) tried not to squeal when the tentacles starting tickling her, trying her best not to smile at how playful Etrian was being.

“I… I can only see those.”

Etrian suddenly pulled her to himself, pressing a long kiss to her left collarbone.

“My mother said my father finally saw what she truly looked like on their wedding night. So maybe you’ll just have to wait till then to see me.”

(Your name) smiled, casting one last look at the handsome man in the portrait. There was no way that person and this tentacle abomination were the same person.

But then again, Rolfe seemed super into Guinevere with or without her tentacles…

(Your name) stood at the alter across from a more than eager Etrian. The tentacles on his head flailing around excitedly while also trying not to touch her until after the ceremony was over.

“You may kiss the bride-“ the marriage officiant didn’t even get to finish his words before Etrian pulled (your name into a passionate kiss, (your name) shutting her eyes so she didn’t have to see how the tentacles were running themselves down every inch of her body.

The crowd going wild at how happy Etrian seemed, much to the dismay of Duke Lancaster who sat the farthest away from the ceremony. The Duke fiddling with a dried sprig of baby’s breath. He was here for closure but he didn’t want to accept the fact that his wife had practically been forced to marry some sort of tentacle monster.

Etrian pulled away before scooping (your name) up in his arms as the crowd cheered for their union. The silver haired Duke giving Cedric a victorious smirk.

Etrian had won. (Your name) was his wife now. He even had something planned for Cedric as well. Something that would make sure that Duke get over (your name) for good.

Cedric groaned, red eyes widening as he realized he was bound and gagged in a chair. The Duke of Lancaster nervously glancing around until he saw Etrian standing in front of him. The silver haired Duke giving Cedric a smirk.

“I’m going to let you watch our wedding night.” Etrian smirked, causing Cedric to scream at him through the gag, only for no sound to come out. “And maybe if you’re good, I’ll even let you in. I feel kind of bad for stealing your wife but I’m not opposed to sharing her.”

Cedric’s red eyes widened when Etrian pulled out a syringe. The dark haired Duke thrashing in his restraints, causing Etrian to shush him.

“It’s just a very strong aphrodisiac. I want you to feel everything and I also gave some to (your name) as well. I want both of you to be as aroused as possible. Plus you’ll be able to see what she can see while you’re on these drugs.”

No… he didn’t mean. Cedric gasped when Etrian stabbed the needle into his bare leg, pupils going wide at the true form of Etrian being revealed to him.

“God. I’m going to love this.”

Cedric could only slightly struggle, the friction from the rope turning him on. The male watching helplessly as (your name) stumbled into the room. The poor girl a panting mess as Etrian slowly began to toy with the lacy white undergarment that hid her body from Cedric’s eyes.

“Look, (your name). I brought your ex-husband here to watch as I defile you.” A sharp gasp left (your name)’s throat when two of Etrian’s tentacles squeezes her chest, the poor girl panting as Etrian ran his hands down her hips and dipped by her privates. “We’re gonna give him a show, okay? And if you’re both good, I’ll let him fuck you too.”

Cedric gasped when the tentacles suddenly ripped apart the lingerie on (your name)’s body his greedy eyes taking in the soft curves of her bare body. His head spinning with lust at the thought of being able to touch his wife.

Etrian suddenly wrapped two tentacles around her wrists, holding them in place as he positioned himself behind her. (Your name) moaning loudly at how rough Etrian was being.

“What do you say, (your name)?”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please… take me, Etrian.” Etrian’s pink tongue darted out to lick her tears away, causing (your name) to blush. Right now she was able to see Etrian’s human face while under the influence of the aphrodisiac, much to Etrian’s joy.

“Good girl. You’re such a good girl, (your name).” Etrian sheathed himself in one thrust in (your name) a strangled cry escaping her throat as he started to pound into her like a madman. “Shit. Look at how well you take it.”

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” (Your name) began to cry as she felt her body being pounded into and Cedric’s eyes on her. “It feels so good!”

“Does it? How about this?” (Your name) began to cry as she felt Etrian’s tentacles rub against her clit, practically seeing stars at the intensity they were going.

“Etrian! I’m going to-“ Etrian tightly grasped (your name) body. The white haired man releasing deep inside of her as (your name) rode out her orgasm. The Duke kissing her face as he turned to look at Cedric who had a mess between his legs as well.

“You’re a sick freak, Cedric. Getting off watching another man fuck your wife.”

Etrian cut Cedric’s binds with one of his tentacles before motioning over to the moaning mess that was (your name). “Have at it.”

Cedric slowly rose up before greedily pressing kisses onto (your name)’s bare skin. The dark haired Duke slipping himself into her with ease. His pale hand grasping her hips tightly as he drilled into her doggy style.

“Fuck. I love you, (your name).” Cedric cried as he started to go into a brutal pace. “We could make this work right? A throuple?”

(Your name) cried and moaned as Cedric continued to pound into her poor abused body. Etrian placing his thumb in her mouth as he stroked his cock in another hand.

“Shhh. How about you put me in your mouth while he has his fun. It’ll be nice to have something in your pretty mouth.”

(Your name) could only nod her head as Cedric continued to pound into her. His balls slapping roughly into her ass as she started choking on Etrian’s cock.

“Look at that. Such a good girl taking two cocks. You’re gonna be both of our wife. It’ll be fun won’t it?” Etrian cooed as Cedric started to cry.

“I’m gonna cum. Fuck. I’m gonna get you pregnant, (your name).” Cedric threw back his head as he came deep inside (your name) the other Duke panting as he collapsed beside (your name), who continued to suck off Etrian.

“Look at us, (your name). All three of us are practically insatiable.” Etrian cooed as he watched Cedric start eating (your name) out.

“I told you I’d make you happy here.” Etrian cooed, (your name) pulling herself away from his cock to whisper.

“Yes I love it here, Etrian. I love you and Cedric so much. Ah!”

“Such a good girl.” Etrian cooed, his tentacles wrapping around (your name) as he continued to play with her body. “You’re gonna be pregnant with twins by the time we’re finished with you.”

“Thank you… thank you…” (your name) cried as she felt her body be flipped over by Cedric who decided he was going to go for another round.

“Isn’t she such a good girl, Cedric.” Cedric nodded his head as he started pressing hot kisses on (your name)’s body.

“You should be happy to know that you two never actually divorced and now the both of us are married to her. My empire just allows polyamory so it’s easier for us to have fun here.”

“Isn’t that fun, Cedric? We’ll all be one big happy family.” Etrian soon pushed (your name) onto Cedric’s lap, who was still pounding into her like a madman.

Etrian positioned himself behind (your name), a wicked smile on his beautiful face.

“Now let’s see how well you can handle two cocks in one hole.”

5K notes · View notes

kaustic · 2 years ago

Note

you didnt watch the antarctica vlog? :((

ajfhskhf this is so off putting like how tf do you know that??? wtf are you doing in my walls nonnie😭😭 /lh

#i know u didnt mean it like that but the notification for this had me in hysterics lmfaoo #logically i know its because i haven’t posted about it but this is funnier #pardon me i was having illnesses over my video game dad😭#i had exactly one (1) thought about joel and became completely inconsolable for the entire day #its also a matter of me being kinda busy with the semester starting this week AND moving into an apartment #so i’ll probably get around to watching it eventually maybe???? hopefully #we’ll see if i forget or not #but from what i’ve seen online it looks insane lol #kit’s beloved anons #kit.dtkq

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supernovafics · 6 months ago

Text

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k words

summary: in which it’s hard to see eddie with anyone who isn't you

warnings: friends to lovers to friends again (kinda), explicit language, alcohol consumption, very brief mention of weed, pining, angst

author’s note: this is fully inspired by the song "new love" by girl in red. enjoy<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“She’s right over there. Should I do it?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

Eddie nodded at your words and then he was standing up from the long patio chair that you, him, and Robin had been occupying for the past thirty minutes, and heading over to where his newest crush stood with a few of her friends.

Robin let out a laugh. “I don’t get it.”

You turned your head to look at her. “What?”

“How you guys can still be friends right now. You only broke up like two months ago.”

Making the promise to stay friends post-breakup was the only thing that made the breakup feel a thousand times less terrible. And it sounded easy enough— you and Eddie were simply just going to go back to how things were before you started dating.

“We’re better off as friends,” He had said to you that random Wednesday night back in January and you nodded understandingly. It was amicable and mutual, and eventually— maybe, hopefully— the barely five-month relationship would be a funny little story to reminisce about with each other years down the line.

You took a long sip from the red cup in your hand and then shrugged at Robin’s words. “I don’t know. This just works somehow. It’s better.”

You had been telling yourself that lie a lot lately— maybe almost too much. But, it was easier to pretend that that lie was the truth and that everything was fine, instead of thinking that maybe you made a mistake that night when you found yourself agreeing with Eddie and let things end between the two of you.

“No offense, but so weird,” Robin said with a shake of her head. “So, who’s this new girl he’s into anyway?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

Eddie had told you a lot about her— how she saw one of his band’s shows recently with a few friends and how she kinda ran in the same-ish circles— but most of what he said about her went in one ear and out the other. Hearing him ramble on and on about a new crush hurt more than you thought it would. Even more than when you two were actually just friends and you were harboring what felt like a hopeless crush on him for years before finally admitting it.

Breaking up was supposed to save you both from more heartbreak in the long run, but most of the time it felt like it was only making things worse. Sometimes you wondered if Eddie felt the same way— if he regretted it as much as you did.

It was almost too obvious that he didn’t, though, because he didn’t waste a second moving on.

New girl, new crush, new love. All of which wasn’t you anymore.

You looked away from where he stood next to the girl— you were only fifty percent sure her name was Ally. She was happily laughing at whatever Eddie had just said to her, and he was smiling widely.

“I’m gonna go inside and attempt to find the bathroom,” You told Robin before downing the rest of what was in your cup and placing it on the ground, and then standing up.

She looked up at you. “Want some help?”

“No, it’s okay,” You shook your head. “I’ll be right back.”

You kept your eyes down and away from Eddie as you walked into the house, a place that was way too small to have this many people in it. The inside was packed to the brim with a bunch of unfamiliar faces, and that was the main reason why you, Robin, and Eddie immediately retreated to the backyard once the three of you showed up. The only reason you all knew about the party was because of a friend of a friend of someone that Eddie met at The Hideout a few weeks ago.

You maneuvered through the throngs of dancing people and groups of friends talking loudly over the blasting music and headed up the stairs, hoping that it would be a bit more calm.

The universe must have been somewhat on your side because you found the bathroom on your first try. You didn’t even need to use it, you just wanted a moment of quiet. And even though you could hear the muffled sounds of the song playing downstairs through the shut door, it was still good enough.

You leaned back against the sink and let out a long breath.

It was hard not to think about Eddie with Ally and how happy they looked, even though it was only one of their first few conversations. All you wanted to do was take her place. All you wanted was for him to want you like that again.

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard, this complicated. Being just friends again was supposed to be the best thing to do, and you now wanted to bitterly laugh at yourself for stupidly believing that thought two months ago. Most of the time, that night played back on what felt like a continuous loop in your head. You kept wondering if you should’ve done things differently; if you should’ve, maybe, fought harder to keep what you two had.

“I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

You had immediately laughed at Eddie’s soft-spoken words, thinking that he was joking, but when he didn’t join in, you were furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

“This just doesn’t make sense, y’know? We’re graduating soon, and then we’re gonna be going in completely different directions. You’re leaving Hawkins, and I already know that I’m gonna be stuck here.”

You were quiet because you had no idea how to respond to that. Maybe it was only half-right— yes, you were going to be headed to a college that was not in Indiana at the end of the summer, but you truly couldn’t imagine Eddie being “stuck” anywhere.

“We’re better off as friends,” He continued. “Neither of us can get hurt that way.”

It was all so surprising and felt entirely out of nowhere, but you could tell by how he said the words that he had been thinking about this for a while. There was a part of you that could understand what he meant, the sad why behind it all, so you decided to lean into that. Because, in a way, he was kind of right— the deeper you fell for each other, the more painful the heartbreak would be in the end, and the harder it would be to leave in August.

But, shit, you were already in way too deep.

You still felt yourself nodding in agreement with him anyway, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do. “Okay.”

“So… just friends again?”

You simply nodded again and gave him a small smile. “Yeah, of course. Just friends.”

Now you felt so dumb for saying that, for agreeing to the idea. You couldn’t be “just friends” with Eddie Munson anymore.

There was a loud knock on the door that abruptly pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry, one sec,” You yelled out to the person on the other side.

You let out another breath and didn’t bother looking in the mirror to see if the sadness you were feeling was written so clearly across your face. Mainly because you knew that it definitely was and it would be too hard to replace it with a fake smile, anyway.

A random girl was rushing in before you were even fully out of the door, and you hoped that she was doing better than you were at that moment, but it didn’t entirely seem like it.

You decided that you wanted to go back outside and settle yourself back in your spot on the patio chair next to Robin, and you also really wanted another drink. The idea of blurring your thoughts for the rest of the night didn’t sound like the worst idea ever.

You made your way to the stairs and before you even started heading down, you spotted Eddie walking up. He easily noticed you too and he smiled before meeting you at the top of the stairs after a second. He looked at you for a moment and then his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, reaching out to place a hand on your upper arm. It was such a subtle and simple action, but it still made you feel way too many things at once. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” You answered, giving him a weak smile, and then immediately changed the subject so that he wouldn’t question you further right then. “How’d it go with Ally? That’s her name, right?”

“Yeah, it is. But, that ask-out completely crashed and failed because she said that she just started dating someone.”

“Oh, sorry,” You told him, not because you actually felt it, but because it simply felt like the right thing to say at that moment.

“It’s fine,” Eddie shrugged. “What’s the dumb saying? There’s other fish in the sea or whatever.”

You let out a forced kind of laugh. “Yup, right.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

For a second, you considered lying again; it would’ve been the best and simplest thing to do. You could’ve said that you weren’t feeling well and you needed to just head back outside and get some air— you should’ve just said that. But then, suddenly, all you could think was fuck it.

“I can’t do this.”

He looked at you, confused. “Do what?”

“Be friends with you. I can’t go back to how things were with us before we dated. And I know that I have been doing it for the past two months, but I can’t anymore.”

“But, we decided—”

“I know,” You interrupted him. “I know what we decided, but that doesn’t mean that it’s been easy to do this. To just turn off my feelings and pretend that I’m not still in love with you.”

Surprisingly, it actually felt good to finally be honest about everything that you had forced yourself to bury over the past few months. It felt as if a weight was being lifted off of your shoulders.

“It’s not easy for me either.”

You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at Eddie’s words. “Yeah, because talking to Ally out there looked really painful and hard for you.”

“That doesn’t…” He trailed off as he shook his head. “That doesn’t mean anything. I promise. It doesn’t mean that I don’t miss you, or us.”

“Then why are we even doing this right now? What’s the point?”

You two had somehow moved away from the stairs and instead were standing further down the hallway, closer to the bathroom that you had left barely two minutes ago.

“I just,” Eddie began and then sighed. “I know it’s gonna hurt like hell letting you go in a few months, and maybe doing it this way is easier. It’s not at all easy, but maybe it’s better? I don’t know. Most of the time it feels so fucking stupid, and I feel like an idiot for what I did that night… But, maybe it was the right thing to do.”

You considered his words for a moment. Just like that night two months ago, a part of you could recognize that he was at least a little right. But, this time you decided against leaning into the small part of you that wanted to simply agree with him because it made things seem “easy.”

“You know me,” You ultimately said, stepping a little closer and finding his hand. “I overthink everything. I think about every possible outcome for any and every situation. But, this is the one thing that I don’t want to think that far ahead about. And maybe that’s stupid. And maybe we will end up feeling terribly heartbroken at the end of the summer, and we’ll regret not just leaving things like they are right now. But, I’d rather that, than to keep pretending that everything is fine and normal. Somehow that feels so much worse. Why can’t we just enjoy this, us, for what it is before we have to give it up?”

Eddie didn’t say anything at first and that worried you. You braced yourself for the inevitable rejection, and you were already telling yourself that you would be okay with it because at least you tried this time around— you had finally said the words that you wished you’d said that night.

But then he was kissing you. It was abrupt and sudden and you hadn’t seen it coming, even though it was exactly what you wanted to happen. He was pulling his hand away from yours and immediately reaching up to cup your face in both of his hands. They were cold, but you still felt as if you were on fire.

It was probably only him that could affect you this much and this easily. You didn’t realize how much you missed the feel of his mouth on yours and how much you missed having him close to you in this way until it was finally, finally happening again.

Your mind briefly traveled back to the last time this happened. It was the night before the breakup and the two of you were smoking weed in your backyard, sandwiched together in one patio chair instead of sitting in separate ones because it just felt right to do, and the close proximity allowed your lips to easily find his.

“I love you,” Eddie mumbled against your mouth now, which also reminded you of that last time. “I’m sorry I made us lose the past two months.”

Your hands were fisting themselves into his black t-shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to you. “It’s okay. Doesn’t matter.”

And technically, it really didn’t, at least not in your head. You were just glad to be here in this moment with him. It wasn’t too late. You two still had time.

“It’ll be okay,” You told him in between kisses. Maybe you two should have found a bedroom or simply moved anywhere that was out of the dark hallway and away from potential prying eyes, but that didn’t feel like the most important thing to do right then. “Whatever happens in the end. It’ll be okay.”

Eddie was nodding as he pressed you back against the wall and his hands dropped to your waist. “Okay.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut

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kinopio-writes · 8 months ago

Note

Please can you write something with Vox x reader when the reader is a cat demon (not really like husk it would just be the ears, tails and eyes) and she (or they I don't know which you prefer) has some instinct tendency like biting affectionately, purring ect? 😊🐾

A/N: I’m genuinely surprised I didn’t struggle writing this because, like what I wrote in my pinned post, I don’t do well with just physical characteristics. Anyway, you two are in an established relationship. Get this sweet, silly stuff because the fic I’ll post after this (soon, hopefully) will be angsty (it’s about Adam).

Warnings: None

———

Vox x Cat!Reader

• it was a jumpscare for him

• you two had only been dating for a while, and you never really displayed any cat-like tendencies until now

• well, he knows you could purr, but not bite???

• “OW! WHAT THE FUCK!”

• “Sorry. You were being too cute.”

• he’d stare for a moment

• “HOW THE FUCK—”

• he was being soo dramatic about it

• didn’t even bite that hard smh (he’s bleeding)

• he probably gets chew toys for you after that

• and he carries one everywhere, just in case

• but you don’t use them

• like, why him? Of all people? He’s not a fucking toy!

• he eventually realizes that there’s a pattern

• you bite him when he’s not paying attention (on his phone or something)

• you bite him when he’s giving you kisses or other physical displays of affection

• and you bite him when his forearms are showing (the no suit jacket look he had in episode 8)

• after gathering this information, he makes sure to be extra attentive when he’s doing those things

• because once he’s got it figured out…

• “Aha! Got you~” He poked you on the nose mockingly, successfully bringing you to bite the chew toy he whipped out at the last moment instead of his forearm

• while he was preoccupied with his victory, you opened your mouth, dropping the chew toy on the couch before you bit the wrist he held up in his triumph

• “FU—”

• anyway, on to the other cat stuff

• purring was a thing he knew you could do for the longest time

• he really likes hearing it while you two are cuddling on the couch or on the bed

• the sound’s just relaxing, y’know?

• he definitely looks forward to that cat behavior when he’s coming back home

• unlike knocking things over

• “(Nickname). Don’t. Don’t you dare.” The swirling of his left eye was a warning

• you flicked the glass filled with water anyway, watching it go over the counter and spill its contents all over the floor

• including the outlets, causing his screen to glitch out harshly

• “(͛⦚N̷̢̦̘̥͙͙̣̰̹̑ͬͮ̔̇́̑̈́̈ͧͨ̅͋ͣ͢͢͡ͅ⦚Ả̤̣⦚M̵̢̡̢̝̬͚̱̺̞͎̮̹̝̹̠̥̾ͩ̓ͮ̅̆̍͂́̍̅̎͛̐̿̈̚͘͜͡ͅ⦚Ę̫̤͇̪̞̖̺̪̩͖͖̬̺̈͆͑͋͐͛́́̈́͆̋̕͘⦚)͛⦚!͛⦚”

• he loves you regardless, though

#hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #kinopiowrites

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juletheghoul · 7 months ago

Text

Castaways (Part 1)

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

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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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #francisco morales #frankie morales #triple frontier au #frankie x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #frankie catfish morales

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m3hgumi · 1 year ago

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— when you have period cramps

a/n: me at any minor inconvenience: omg more content 😍😍 cramps are hurting so bad and i was thinking about them … ooo the voices THE FUCKING VOICES

i’ll also be splitting the hcs into two parts with other characters so it’s easier to post

pairings: itadori yuji x f!reader, fushiguro megumi x f!reader, gojo satoru x f!reader

genres: fluff, hurt/comfort

word count: 853

itadori yuji

baby was so scared and terrified and confused at first

he’s never had to deal with something like this before, having no female family members or relatives

so to say the least he was stumped

you tried to brush it off saying you were okay and the pain would pass until another wave of sharp stabbing pain hit your side

that’s when you told him to get the pain killers cause this was gonna be a Very Long Week

once you explained to him the horrors of being a woman with a functioning uterus, he didn’t hesitate to grab (steal) a heating pad from nobara’s room (which almost led to disaster, thankfully you had stepped in and no damage was done)

he hates seeing you in pain and tries so hard to make sure you’re comfortable

he’ll have you laying your head in his lap, sprawling the rest of you body on the sofa or bed of your dorm, and ruffle your hair as the two of you watch your favorite show or movie

when you’re napping, he’ll try to cook you something to keep your energy up and endure the pain

i bet he tries to look up recipes for meals that help with period cramps

and tries to cook them for you 🥹

even if he’s not the greatest cook, you appreciate those meals better than any craving you’ve had for the rest of the week

megumi fushiguro

he’s gone through this many times with tsumiki before so he knows exactly what to do

prepare a heating pad, stock up on pain meds, get her usual cravings and everything would be fine

though her cramps weren’t as painful (or so he thought, she just hid how painful they were from him) as he found yours to be, so he had to do a little bit more to help you alleviate the pain

including routine cuddles, plenty of kisses, many many blankets, and the occasional peace and quiet for your naps

he has your period tracker synced to his phone so he knows in advance when to stock up on any supplies you’ll need to get through the hellish time of shark week

he’d cancel any plans he may have had with nobara and yuji to stay with you (mad respect 🙏)

he’ll also summon his demon dogs for emotional support, even if it’s not allowed in the dorms (he’s such a real one 😭☝️)

he also has his phone notifications off so all of his attention is focused on getting you through this hellish week (ok but mans needs to catch a break too)

he’ll let you play with his hair as a distraction from the pain

if you ask for cuddles his face will get super red but he’ll oblige after

eventually he’d stop you from consuming all of chocolate and chips that is your cravings and get you to eat an actual meal

he won’t mind if you start complaining or yelling at him about something insignificant (like the temperature in the room being too low) because he knows it’s just the pain talking

instead he’ll pull you even further to his touch, soothing you and hopefully getting your mind farther away from your uterus twisting itself

gojo satoru

for ONCE his sweets stash under his bed is finally useful for someone other than him 🔥

i can imagine teen gojo first seeing you in pain and laughing (geto probably smacked him real good after that)

“wowww women have it SOOO hard 🙄” “OF COURSE YOU WOULDNT KNOW YOU ASSH-“

he has everything stocked up and ready for that time of the month: from pads to heating pads to pain meds (lots of them) and most importantly SO MANY SWEETS

he definitely uses this time of the month as an excuse to go out and buy an exorbitant amount of candy that will most definitely leave the two of you with diabetes

he’ll also bail out on any meetings or missions (except the ones with his students, he can’t leave them) so he could stay with you

if for any reason he can’t be physically be there, he’ll be on speed dial or he’ll get nanami or shoko to keep you company

you tell him not to worry and don’t bother staying since the pain will pass on its own and isn’t really anything to worry about, but he insists anyways

when he’s not busy he’s either cuddling you or having you wrapped around his arms, passing the time by watching his shitty collection of movies or any of your favorite shows

he’s definitely gonna feed you the giant chocolate cake he bought from the bakery down the street (and feed himself some ofc)

since gojo is just a giant pillow anyways, falling asleep on him isn’t much of a problem, even if your insides are attacking you with the worst pain ever

i’ve mentioned this in hcs before but he ABSOLUTELY has a whole album of pics where you’re sleeping on his shoulder or lap, cuddles are not excluded

(ok this is getting too long i should stop)

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nburkhardt · 9 months ago

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Every Time You Shine, I’ll Shine For You.

Soooo this was originally going to be full one shot, but I’ve decided since it’s been sitting in my drafts for months, that I’m just going to post it as either an unfinished piece for now. I might try to come up with a second half but for now enjoy this soulmate au ✨

Having a soulmark wasn’t necessary for Steve. Sure, seeing the word- the nickname his soulmate will eventually call him is nice. But it’s not needed, not in his eyes at least.

At the age of five years old, everyone in the world gets a nickname on their wrist. It’s fate telling you your perfect match, that the other half of your soul is out there for you. It’s the ultimate fairytale growing up, that it burns when you hear the nickname said by your soulmate and there’s an instant spark, instant connection. It’s the bedtime story, the ultimate love story and something to wish for.

It’s a wish everyone wants but Steve Harrington.

He has a very good reason to not like the idea of having a “perfect match” out there for you. While he heard the stories and sees the potential in it, he grew up watching his parents be in love without being actual soulmates. Hears stories of their love and ideas of finding love on your own, deciding to show the world that they don’t need fate’s help.

It’s beautiful and he wants that. Wants to make his own story, find his own match. There’s no need for fate to help him.

On his fifth birthday, he watched ‘Dingus’ appear on his wrist, it made him pout while his parents laughed and kiss his head, told him not to worry. That he doesn’t have to be with whoever fate picked for him and joked about only being five.

It eases his five year old mind.

His parents aren’t surprised to watch him grow up to be a true romantic, isn’t surprised to see his love in everything and how having a soul mark doesn’t stop him from having crushes or falling in love.

Life goes on but after some failed relationships and the disaster of a relationship with Nancy; seeing the nickname give him some hope that somewhere out there, there is someone for him. Someone who fate decided is his match, which growing up he hated it.

At eighteen, he really thought he’d already be with the person he’d love forever (and who would love him). But instead of that, he’s single and not at all close to figuring out why fate’s pick for him would call him “dingus” of all things. To top it all of he’s stuck working at the new Scoops Ahoy until he hears back from the colleges he applied too.

The uniform is lame, it’s in the middle of the brand new mall and it’s leaning towards being too cold in the shop and he doesn’t even know his coworker yet, hopefully they’re not expecting him to be some big shot like he was in high school.

Those days are long gone, he’d rather be his lame and hopeless romantic self instead of the asshole keg king he was.

His first week of working is spent being laughed at by ex-teammates, being ignored by his only coworker and failing to get at least a date with someone. It’s not his longest week, but it’s real close.

After a total of three weeks of getting ignored and laughed at by people he flirts with, his coworker, Robin decides enough is enough and- “maybe with this you’ll try harder”

Glancing behind him, she’s standing there with the whiteboard from the back but instead of the random doodles she drew, it looks like a score board with You Rule/You Suck on it.

There’s already three tally marks under ‘You Suck’ and he can’t figure out if it makes him want to laugh or cry, maybe both.

Definitely both.

“At least I’m trying here, you could find your soulmate with flirting!”

Robin rolls her eyes and hangs the board up behind her, “I’d rather suck on a lemon than flirt with guys”

It surprises him for all of three seconds before he rolls his eyes, whatever, he thinks. If she wants to miss the opportunity to find a soulmate, so be it. He’ll continue trying to find love, he doesn’t need whoever fate picked.

The board is definitely mocking him, he thinks several days later. Currently there’s five tally marks under ‘You Suck’ and a big fat nothing under ‘You Rule’. Robin thinks it’s the funniest thing on the planet.

He doesn’t find it funny, he finds it embarrassing and stupid, actually. Really embarrassing, especially when she brings it out when another girl their age walks in. It’s like she’s doing it on purpose.

Which is confusing, she told him explicitly that she does not like him and will only ever tolerate him. So, her practically chasing people away doesn’t make sense.

Her loud crackle of a laugh starts as his head nearly hits the counter, “That’s another one for the you suck column! Zero for the you rule, popeye!”

Standing up he turns around with a glare, “yeah I can read!”

“You sure about that one, Dingus?”

His wrist burns and he can’t stop his eyes from going wide. There’s no way, absolutely no way. This is a fluke, she must have seen his mark one day. That’s why his soulmate mate, fate’s pick, is his co-worker.

His disbelief and discomfort most show on his face because Robin shifts on her feet, “I’m uh, sorry. If I took that too far, really-uh I don’t think that way about you and, and- this is was” she looks uncomfortable now, tripping over her words.

Opening his mouth to calm her down, he find that his words are gone. The disbelief stopping him. He quickly shuts it and looks away from her. The shop is completely empty. When did that happen?

“Steve- I really didn’t mean to be well, mean.”

All he can do is nod back, “no, uh, I get it. Really- uh. It’s fine.”

How exactly is he supposed to do this? He’s never once called her a nickname! Unless she was his but he isn’t hers? He doesn’t know. Either way he’s still a little disappointed.

“You sure? Because uh, you’re looking a little pale there”

A laugh bubbles up and before he realizes it he’s on the ground with his back against the counter and tears on his face, “ye-yeah. Sorry.”

He hears her move around and then there’s a foot bumping his, he moves his head to look at her.

“We’re currently low on everything, did you know that? It’s unbelievable, just wiped clean.” Robin explains with amusement dancing on her face, “Scoops Ahoy is officially closed for the day”

That surprises a laugh out of him as tries to loosen the tension that built up, moving his arms he puts his chin on his knee, Robin copies him. They’re just looking at each other, comfortable in this silence.

“Sooo”

“Look-”

Their eyes meet and both burst out laughing. This feels different, at least for Steve. There’s something soothing coursing through him now, he never felt on edge with Robin but he wasn’t always this comfortable either. A smile spreading on his face, he didn’t know about this feeling when you meet your soulmate.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

He snorts, “they might be worth more, Birdie”

Robin gasps and he looks at her, but her eyes are wide and locked on her wrist. He follows her look and he can’t exactly see what she’s looking at but he knows it’s her soul mark.

They really are soulmates.

This is where I’d put the continuation… if I had the idea for it! (Said in that fairlyodd parents meme)

Anyway! If this brought you some inspiration, you can totally take whatever piece you want and write something! But please know I had this ending up as Steddie with side of Rockie (Vickie&Robin)

Permanent taglist: @spectrum-spectre @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @bookworm0690 @strangersteddierthings

#platonic stobin #stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #nburkhardt writes #stranger things #stranger things fic #soulmate au #Steve has good parents as a bonus btw #it’s open ended to give me the chance to add more #if you see any typos no you don’t

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faux-ecrivain · 9 months ago

Text

1950s househusband x gn reader

marinette4943 asked: Hey!

I saw your yandere housekeeper and loved the way you wrote it. Do you intend to do a next part?

If so, could you tag me in it?

————————————————————

Name; Angelo

Thirty second official post

@marinette4943

————————————————————

From Part 3;

He is absolutely whipped for you, everything you do is committed to his memory, and he inches closer to you with every passing second. “You’re welcome, so, are you going to give me a tour of the town or some advice to settle in, and get along with my neighbors?” He didn’t want to, but he figured that it was best to be as helpful as possible. That way, you’ll trust him the most and will come back to him whenever you need help. You, however, scoot away from him, eventually ending up near the end of the couch in a corner. “Oh, uhm, certainly. I’ll be happy to give you advice and a tour, but I was hoping we could simply have a friendly chat first…” Angelo responds hopefully, he just wants to get to know you and does want to talk about anyone else.

However, something you said earlier caught his attention. “Unexpected? Wh-what do you mean by that?” He questions nervously, his wide eyes nervously glancing at you and his bottom lip quivering at the thought of you hating him. You tilt your head, slightly confused and then you try to clarify without sounding rude. “Well, back where I’m from men don’t often wear dresses, that’s all.” Before you can clarify any further he interrupts you, which was quite rude and he apologizes for that, but doesn’t stop talking. “Sorry for interrupting, but you don’t like it? Does my fashion sense upset you?” He inquires his expression shifting into anxiety and his mind begins to work in overdrive. His hands squeezes the cloth of his dress and he twists the fabric. Angelo doesn’t do well with rejection, of any form or shape.

Suddenly this conversation seems very awkward to you and you regret opening your mouth. “That’s not what I meant, that dress looks great on you. It’s just someone have to get used to, that’s all.” He smiles and he seems content with your response. “Really? You mean it? Thank you!” It isn’t often that he gets a compliment from anyone and it’s been a while since anyone he was interested in complimented him (excluding his spouse, he loves his spouse so very much and is very interested in them). Angelo relaxes and leans his head on your shoulder, which causes you to cringe and push his head away. He whines and leans against you once more, this time he wraps his arms around your arm and nuzzles your neck. Now you’re very uncomfortable and have begun to regret your decision to let him inside.

———————————————————-

Subtly, you try to push him away. You didn’t want to be rude, but his unnecessary affection was making you extremely uncomfortable. Sadly, his grip on your arm does not loosen and seems to tighten. Angelo scoots closer, he’s so close that you could count each one of his eyelashes. He sighs, seemingly unaware of how close he is, or maybe he knows and just doesn’t care. You clear your throat and lean as far away from him as you can. “Ahem, so, about that tour…” You smirk awkwardly and try to make a simple conversation, if only to alleviate the discomfort you felt. He acknowledges your words with a hum, but doesn’t respond for quite some time. It’s silent and awkward as you try to ignore the very obvious bedroom eyes Angelo is sending your way.

You clear your throat again and try to get his attention. “Ahem, Angelo, could you please let go of me or move away?” It takes a moment for your words to sink in and when the do, Angelo shoots away from you. His eyes are wide, his face is flushed with embarrassment and his mouths is agape. It’s clear that he’s absolutely mortified by his behavior. Immediately he begins to apologize. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, Neighbor! That was so inconsiderate of me, Oh! I feel so ashamed! Oh, I should go, I shouldn’t behave like that around you!” Part of his apology sounds a bit like an excuse, but you can tell by his expression that his apology is sincere. “Did I make you uncomfortable? Oh, I’m truly sorry if I did!”

You chuckle and wave off his worries, you begin to placate him, and attempt to halt his incessant apologies. “Oh, it’s alright, Angelo. It really isn’t that terrible, I was uncomfortable, but I’m sure you didn’t mean anything by it.” Oh, he certainly meant something by his actions, it wasn’t anything sinister, but it was something that Angelo wasn’t ready to face. He was experiencing so much turmoil, the very idea that he almost betrayed his spouse made his physically ill. He could never hurt them like that, sure they weren’t the best spouse, but he still loved them. “No, I-I have to leave, I-I can’t-Oh!” Angelo struggles to breathe, his previous actions set in, and he felt like crying.

He has to leave, Angelo couldn’t stay another minute is your presence. Especially when he’s constantly tempted to crawl into your arms and never leave them. Once more, you try to reassure him, but he doesn’t listen. “Angelo, it really isn’t a big deal. I’m sure you meant nothing by it and nothing came of it, so it’s alright. Let’s just sit back down and enjoy a nice, civil conversation.” It sounded as though you were trying to calm him down, and that made him feel even worse. Well, the way he felt when you expressed concern for him, made him feel even worse. “No, no, I have to go. My sp-spouse is coming home soon an-and I don’t want to disappoint them.” He tries to reason with himself and his desires, but it’s not working.

Mostly because his heartbeat seemed to increase with every word that you spoke, he knew what that meant, and he couldn’t give into such sinful desires. He had to stay loyal to his spouse, although, thoughts of loyalty seemed to remind Angelo of the way his spouse has been behaving recently. Which causes his brows to furrow and halts his apologies, as his mind wanders to his spouses recent behavior. His spouse has been distant (more so than usual) and they keep coming home late. Normally, he wouldn’t worry about that, but each night they come home smelling like cheap perfume, and then he starts to think about the recent rumors he’s heard. The ones about househusband Damian and his cheating spouse. This causes Angelo to consider the idea that maybe his spouse is cheating on him, and the very thought is appealing to him. It causes him to be sick, and he nearly faints. (Luckily you caught him before he could actually fall, and now you’re fussing over him, oh, his heart can’t take it!)

No, he can’t give into temptation. He has to stay loving and loyal, it’s not that hard, and surely his spouse will take notice of his devotion. He just has to keep trying, right? It doesn’t matter how exhausting it is or how much easier it would be to allow his new neighbor into his heart. Angelo has to remain strong, and eventually, he’ll be rewarded for his loyalty, won’t he?

————————————————————

(I don’t really like this installment of househusband Angelo, I’m not proud of it, but I figured that if I do a bit of writing about one of my favorite OCs then I might get back into writing. But, who knows, I’m a creature of habit and writing is exhausting. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and hopefully, I’ll be back to writing at a normal pace again.)

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quinnysnursery · 1 month ago

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Awesome! Well I'm just gonna put it now cuz I CAN'T HOLD IT IN ANYMORE BSJSJDN

You wake up little but your caregiver (whoever you like I'm thinking Matt or Chris in this scenario tho) wakes up really sick. Like REALLY sick. In fact, you have to come out of little space and be big again to help them out. It takes a day or two but they feel much better soon with your help! But you can't help be agitated and emotional because you're constantly on the verge of going into headspace and you just need to be little! Your schedule was all messed up and the big you needs a break! Eventually the dam breaks and you burst into tears and the caregiver just hugs you close, shushing you and pressing kisses to your hair

"It's okay, baby, you can be little now.. thank you for helping dada when he was icky, I feel so much better now! It's okay, you can be my little baby, sweet one."

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk 🥹

-🎀

[🥤] in sickness & in health | chris sturniolo one-shot

paring : cg!chris sturniolo x gn!little!reader

summary : tbh just read the request cus i can't think of how to put it in other words

warning/extra tid-bits : surpressing regression, crying, i used y/n, i think thats all!!

word count : 1,153

divider credit : umm i found all the photos on pinterest :3 (stars from @saradika-graphics)

a/n : been in my inbox since june 4th i gotta post this for ari😭 (not proof read, i'm just a girl!)

It’s obvious to you as soon as you wake up that you’d be regressing today- a comfortable cloudy haze looming over your head was practically begging you to forget the stressors of adult life and slip into littlespace.

So, that’s exactly what you did! As you got ready for the day, you made sure to strategically pick out clothes that you knew little you would deem sensory friendly. After getting ready for the day, you bounded downstairs- in search of your loving caregiver, Chris.

That’s when your plans for the day were foiled. Just as you made it to the first floor of the house, your eyes instantly recognized the bundle of blankets on the couch to be your caregiver…that wasn’t like him. Sure, Chris wasn’t a morning person by any means but he always made sure to wake before you.

“Chw’is?” You called out, it was evident in your voice that your headspace wasn’t far away. Chris peaked up from out of the blankets, nose raw and red from the amount of times he’d had to blow it. “G’morning…” Chris croaked, his throat aching with every syllable spoken.

You stared at Chris blankly, he looked sick. Like- sad Victorian child sick. You blinked in surprise as Chris began a coughing fit, each cough sounding more painful than the last.

That almost instantly ripped the comfortable cloudy haze away from you, all the stressors of adult life coming back to you in an instant.

“Do you feel okay?” You asked, realizing that Chris needed you more than you needed regression right now. Chris gave you a look that asked “What do you think?”

“I’ll get started on some soup, you just sit there.” You comforted, moving to the kitchen and instantly searching the pantry for the canned soup that the triplets kept for cases just like this. You were a bit disappointed about the fact you wouldn’t be able to regress today, but hearing Chris begin another coughing fit from the living room was enough to keep you busy.

You could wait to regress…hopefully.

The day continued on as expected, Chris had more coughing fits and went through five boxes of tissues whilst you sat right by his side promising him that it wasn’t a bother to take care of him- which was true! You honestly didn’t mind heating him up soup, finding new boxes of tissues or couch-rotting with your best friend.

Sure, you’d slipped up a couple times by letting your mind wander to what you two could’ve been doing had your plans for regressing not been foiled but it was fine. You were fine.

“M’ gonna head to bed.” Chris grumbled, exhausted despite the fact he spent the day taking couch naps. You look up from your phone, nodding quickly- a twinge of sadness in your heart. One of your favorite parts of regression was your bedtime routine with Chris.

“G’night.” He mumbled out before stumbling upstairs- blanket around his shoulders. When Chris was finally upstairs, you stretched out on the couch- flicking on the television. You flipped through a few streaming services before winding up on Disney+, your eyes immediately trailing to the latest episode of your favorite show.

You hovered over it with the remote, a white highlight glowing around the show’s icon.

No. You couldn’t. You knew the second you heard the theme song- your headspace that had been taunting you all day would instantly come crashing down. You clicked off the TV, flipping over on the couch and deciding to sleep there for the night instead- afraid that you’d regress if you got to cuddle next to your caregiver.

Three days had passed before Chris was able to swallow without any pain and breath freely. He was still exhausted, but he was getting better. In those two days, you’d done everything in your power to not regress.

You’d been sleeping on the couch or in Matt and Nick’s room so as to not regress during nighttime. You’d been actively avoiding any media you knew your regressed self would like- cartoons, toys, arts and crafts…anything.

Honestly, it was hell. After the second day, you felt your brain practically begging you to regress and get away from the stressors of your everyday life. It was as if your muscles were aching to be held by your caregiver.

“Y/n?” Chris called, he finally sounded like himself again and not a mucus ridden monster. You looked up from your phone, smiling at the brunette boy. “Yeah?” You asked, trying to play it cool.

“You okay? You’ve been staring at that same instagram post for the past twenty minutes.” He laughed, motioning to your phone with his hand. You hadn’t even realized- you’d been too caught up in your own thoughts.

“Oh, sorry.” You apologized, swiping out of the app. Chris’ brows furrowed at this, he crouched down next to the couch to meet your eyes- you hated how your brain instantly felt the urge to regress. “Hey…what’s going on? You feel okay?” The boy asked, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. You pull away, wrinkling up your nose and accidentally allowing a soft whine to escape from the back of your throat.

Only then did it hit Chris- you hadn’t regressed in nearly three days.

“Oh baby…c’mere.” Chris stood up, attempting to pull you into his chest. You instantly pushed him away, shaking your head “N-no! ‘our not all ‘e way better yet! Got’sa take care of ‘ou!” You cried out, frustrated tears brimming your eyes- you wanted to curl up in Chris’ lap but he needed you more right now.

Chris felt his heart break, instantly taking a seat next to you on the couch. “Baby…I feel better now, okay?” He comforted, causing you to let out a sniffle as you wiped your eyes with your sweater sleeve. “C’mere sweetheart…” He cooed, opening up his arms.

You pondered it for a moment, Chris said he was feeling better…and you really wanted his cuddles right now. You pulled the throw blanket off of yourself, instantly curling up into your caregivers lap and letting him wrap his arms around you.

“I missed my little baby so much,” He hummed, instantly feeling better with his little one in his arms. “Thank you for takin’ care of me sweetheart, you did such’a good job.” Chris smiled, resulting in you giving him a small smile as you snuggled further into his chest.Sure, pushing off your regression sucked and later you and Chris would have a discussion on ways you could both make sure you were being taken care of but right now the two of you curled up on the couch, throw blanket draped lazily over you as the latest episodes of your favorite cartoon began playing.

Both secure with the fact that you’d always look out for each other, in sickness and in health.

taglist !! :

@natedoeswife @blahbel668 @nicksloverrr @flow3rsturns13 @pkfferoo @pixxiies @mattsturnswhore @17welch17 @pinksikhewei @v33angel @mattssturnz @littlestar44 @graceslittlecorner @zivall @hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch @sturnsxplr-25 @cherry-red-heart @pr3ttyf4wn @frlinbruh @jazminepetit-homme @raynaaxx @tyummyz

(and ofc thank you so much to the lovely @starri-nightss for requesting this)

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blondiedae · 25 days ago

Text

dry house, wet clothes

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃 dry house, wet clothes

pairing. johnny suh x afab!reader x jeong jaehyun genre. angst, fluff, eventual smut, slow burn (for jaehyun), friends to lovers (for johnny) warnings. swearing, mentions of drinking, kissing, smut tags will be added when it applies. big miscommunication trope, it is what it is. it’s so much angst i’m so sorry word count. 9,721

plot. the four of you have spent years building the world around you, your friendship, your weekends together hidden in jaehyun’s loft. you, mark, johnny and jaehyun. shaking the foundation of that by being in love with your best friend, jaehyun, is a risk you’ve never been confident enough to take. but, johnny suh is confident and johnny suh has been known to shake the world around you.

other’s mentioned. slight himbo mark lee <3, various other nct members (eventually)

author’s note. it’s taken me two years to write this. this is only part one/chapter one, so hold tight for updates! hopefully i’ll be able to post every monday, but we’ll see! enjoy part one :)

taglist (open). @xiaojunsdino

playlist. coming soon !

You woke up to the sound of rain on the roof from above and, from the corner of the room, soft music coming out like a whisper from a forgotten speaker. You were tangled in him and him and him. One arm looped in his, your head resting on his shoulder, his head on your stomach; three sets of staggered snores mingling, mixing with the tap tap tap of raindrops, the guitars and synths and drums of the music to create a familiar symphony.

A fall morning in the loft.

The glass panes of the roof, the ones installed three summers before, swept the raindrops away and down off the side of the house. They found the glass of the windows there, slipping, slipping, slipping to continue their descent to the gutter, then the ground. You watched, idle hands in his hair, tangled in a mess of loose curls.

The music hiccuped, a new song began. You blinked, eyes still too bleary, mind still in a state close to sleep, close to numb. He didn’t move, neither did he or he. Save for the rain and your fingertips, everything remained still. It was your most cherished time; not silence, but comfortable and quiet chaos amongst them.

The world wouldn’t move if you didn’t, you’d convinced yourself, if they didn’t.

So, you would stay still until his shoulder shifted beneath your heavy head. Until he’d grumbled something, in a voice laced with sleep and worn from the night before, about the weight. He didn’t actually mind, and he would never tell you, but he found nights when your head didn’t keep his shoulder in place to be restless.

You wouldn’t budge until he flexed his hand, let the stretch of his fingers move up to his forearm, his bicep, his shoulder to pull away from you. He always worried he got too close, always worried he’d taken up too much of your space. Any space you sacrificed was worth seeing his sleepy smile when he said, “Good morning.”

You would hold your breath, control it and calm it and monitor every yawn, until he lifted his head without opening his eyes and smiled, broad and brilliant. Only then would you stretch your aching bones and wake yourself fully.

This stage, this limbo in the rain and the early morning light that tried to break through it, was too precious to surrender.

You counted the seconds between snores, hummed lightly to the music and recounted the evening before; the bottles, the unbridled laughter, more bottles and the stars. Always the stars, always above you, always shining.

The memories of the night mixed and warped with your dreams, in your willfully sleepy state it was too hard to discern between the two. Counting stars: memory. Running, running, running: dream. His fingertips tracing constellations into the skin of your arm: memory. No, dream.

You looked at him, soft and snoring in a pile of blankets, pillows and limbs intertwining. He moved first, one by one his fingers let go of yours and stretched as wide as possible. He rolled his wrist and pulled his fingers back into a fist, letting them crack. As soon as he had let go, his fingers slipped back between yours and held tight, as they had all night. He unraveled every part of his body still holding onto you, a sigh leaving his lips when he was done.

You didn’t know if he knew you were looking, awake and waiting, but he took his time.

You let him.

When he opened his eyes, the very last step in his stirring, he saw you. Your faces had inched closer together in the night, and after you’d both turned your heads there was little space left. He didn’t flinch even the slightest, only blinked and mumbled, “Am I crowding you?”

You squeezed his hand, “You’re not.”

Jaehyun smiled, scooting back a bit anyway but not letting go; never letting go, “Good morning.”

You didn’t say it back, you didn’t have the chance to. He wiggled his shoulder underneath your head while his feet pushed the blankets covering him from his body. Johnny groaned through a yawn, “I can’t feel my arm.”

“Good.” You laughed.

“Good.” He mocked, lifting up your head and rolling out from under you. He sat up, arms stretched out wide, up and up and up towards the slipping raindrops and back down. Rolling his head back once, twice, he looked at you, “Good morning.”

“Good morning, everyone.” He lifted his head, a lazy grin warming the determined gloom of the morning. He rested his chin on your stomach, patting his fingers lazily on the sliver of exposed skin there, “How’d you sleep?”

You grinned back, ruffling his hair. He was the youngest of the four of you and it showed, especially in the morning when his face was swollen and round, “Just fine. How about you, Mark?”

Mark’s answer came out more like a grunt as he rolled over away from you and stretched, “I could have used a pillow. Johnny took all of them.”

“I had two of them.” Johnny disagreed, “Jaehyun had one under his feet.”

“Because I was half on the mattress and half on the floor.” Jaehyun laughed. His thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand, the other arm flopped over his eyes like the conversation had already worn him out enough to sleep again, “What time is it?.”

“I don’t know where my phone is.” You grumbled, writhing and wriggling your bones awake, now that Mark wasn’t resting on you. You squeezed Jaehyun’s hand before letting go, pushing yourself to sit up.

Jaehyun lifted his arm, only briefly, to look at you. His hand suddenly felt cold, felt empty, felt like the morning that greeted the four of you. He covered his eyes once more, flexing his fingers again before putting his newly free hand over his heart.

“Your stomach grumbles a lot when you sleep. Did you know that?” Mark poked at your stomach, a sleepy but content grin on his face. You smacked his hand away, he yawned, “Does mine do that?”

His yawn was contagious, but you answered through your own, “I don’t know, Mark. We’ll switch spots next time and I’ll find out.”

“Absolutely not.” Johnny chided, “Mark’s head is bigger than yours.”

“Then we’ll rotate.”

“Why would we rotate?”

You tilted your head, “Why wouldn’t we rotate?”

“I don’t want his drool on me.”

Mark grumbled, slipping on his sweatshirt, “I don’t drool.”

“He doesn’t drool.”

Johnny said, “Of course he drools.”

Mark nudged you, “I don’t drool, do I?”

“Not on me.” You assured him.

Jaehyun sighed, loudly and exaggerated and cutting off your temporary tiff with Johnny, “I still don’t know what time it is, but I know it’s too early for this.”

Johnny stood up first, picking up his phone and the speaker. He didn’t make any changes to the music - soft, melancholy but in a way that felt comfortable- he only brought the speaker closer, to the edge of the large mattress in the middle of the floor, “It’s nine o’clock.”

“I have to get home.” Mark yawned.

Johnny pocketed his phone, “Me too. Are we doing something later?”

He waited for an answer that was inevitable. A nod from Jaehyun, a noncommittal shrug from Mark, a thumbs up from you. All three came in a ripple, which was enough for Johnny to stand up again and gather his things. Mark followed, the two of them scuffling around the mess, the mattress, each other. Jaehyun scooted until he was fully on the mattress and you wondered, as you always did, why he always sacrificed his comfort in his own home.

“Mark, text me when you get home.” You raised your hand to cup around your mouth, calling out over the thundering rain booming through the open door. Mark was halfway out the door, but he nodded. Johnny waited and waited and expectantly waited, “You too, John.”

Then they were gone; backpack and a jacket over their heads, boisterous and bouncing down the stairs of the loft, scampering down the street. Not slipping like the raindrops, but stomping through the puddles. You watched them as long as you could, as long as they were in your line of sight from the mattress, not ready to move yet. It took a moment, but a layer of fog took over the window and their usually towering bodies turned into specks. You looked away, then. Looked at Jaehyun, looked at the mess. You flopped back down on the mattress, a quiet huff of air slipping past your lips.

The rain came down; it didn’t break, it didn’t offer the morning a chance to breathe.

You could feel Jaehyun next to you, his shoulder just barely touching yours. The silence that didn’t dare interrupt your symphony finally crept in, the rain persisted, but the music and the snoring were long gone. Still, neither one of you moved. It was you and it was Jaehyun and it was your mixed breathing and the rain.

“Jae.”

“Hm.” He hummed, arm lifting once more to peek at you. The way your eyes were shut, the way your face twisted in loops and loops of thought - only some of which you’d ever say out loud. He watched you, he watched the rain on the window behind you, he watched the breath you took in and then he urged, “What is it?”

Your head turned, eyes opening to meet him how you had when he woke up, “Hand.”

Neither one of you had to reach far, neither one of you hesitated. Jaehyun waited, patiently, for whatever you had to say, whatever willed your lips to move and say his name. You watched him, thoughtful and quiet, trying to remember if the touch you felt was based on reality or a dream. You begged your own mind to remember if the slight burning on your arm, the comfortable fire beneath your skin, was from Jaehyun tracing Orion, Draco, Andromeda, Cygnus as you fell asleep.

After a while, you shook your head and looked skyward - back to the rain, “You’re my best friend.”

He nodded, repeated your actions and words, “You’re my best friend.”

“Do you ever feel nostalgic for the times that it was just the two of us up here?” You laughed, squeezing his hand. He’d take it as a joke and you meant it as a joke. Even having known a life before, you could not and did not want to imagine one without Johnny and Mark. So much of who the four of you were was rooted in each other, your coexistence. Still, you sighed, “Do you ever miss it?”

Jaehyun took a moment. He replied, “It’s just the two of us right now. There’s always time for that, always will be. So, no. But, the mattress did seem bigger, then.”

You laughed. He loved the sound, so he laughed too.

Like the sun was waiting for that cue, that sound to latch on to and pull itself through the clouds, it shone. Bright, much brighter than the stars, and filling the room for as long as the break in clouds would allow. A brief intermission of light.

You both watched the beams of sunlight; how they kissed the walls, the floorboards. You both thought about those times, the memories that seemed like a lifetime ago; the loft in its infancy, the loft on your tenth birthday and his eleventh and your twelfth. Jaehyun’s dad putting up a tent in the middle of the room on nights when weather conditions were poor and you both were so determined; persistent like the rain. You thought of reading, strewn across the mattress stealing glances at Jaehyun while he played a melody on the keyboard in the corner. He thought of the same melody, any melody, every melody; how you’d hum along to the ones you knew, ask him about the ones you didn’t, move to the music either way.

You both thought. It was easier to just think, to remember. You were too tired, still, to move and make new memories. A quiet moment was just as nice, between the two of you.

“I think I’m still tired.” You told him.

He said, “You were stirring a lot.”

“I’m sorry, Jae.”

“You don’t need to be.” He reached over his head, to the spot where Johnny’s head had been resting on two pillows and grabbed for them both. Jaehyun put one under his head, offering the other to you, “Go back to sleep for a while. We’ve got time.”

So, you did. Your fingers wrapped around the pillow, but you dropped it behind you - a safety net if you rolled away - and scooted closer to Jaehyun. He breathed out a laugh, looping his arm around you and holding onto your waist. One of your hands wrapped around his waist, fingers stroking his side lazily and the other held your own heart, willing it to beat softer, slower, inconspicuously. With his free hand, he pulled a blanket over the two of you. Jaehyun didn’t lift his hand, only started tracing patterns into your skin; Orion, Draco, Andromeda, Cygnus. Constellations: memory.

“The stars aren’t out.” You mumbled, already drifting.

Jaehyun pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Sleep.”

He held his lips there, unmoving but gently resting. You could feel every small twitch, every breath. The tips of his fingers brushed your skin again, lazy strokes that ignited a calm, comfortable fire just below. Your body shuddered and you hoped Jaehyun didn’t notice. He wouldn’t say it, if he did. The hand on your heart clenched, tensed, grasped for a gentler beat. It didn’t come, it wouldn’t let up.

You fell asleep hearing two hearts beating, loudly, against the chests that held them; yours and Jaehyun’s.

📻

When you woke up for the second time, two things were missing: the rain and Jaehyun.

The sun wasn’t as gentle as the rain had been, waking you up; it was almost violent the way it pried at your eyes, relentless warmth and brightness filling the now silent room. You rustled the blankets Jaehyun had piled on you, pulling yourself up to sit, desperate for any sound. The mess from the night had been tidied, swept away. You swept away the rest of the sleep from your eyes and let out a breath.

You could still feel his kiss on your forehead. It was something so common, so standard for Jaehyun to kiss that exact spot, or your temple, or the top of your head. You’d do the same to him; his cheeks, his nose, pulling him down or standing on your toes to reach the rest. Today, it was another spot on your flesh that burned and burned and burned.

You stood, picking your phone up from the ground just to the right of the mattress. Every inch of your body resisted movement, it fought against you as you stretched upwards, outwards.

The door to the loft opened, “I brought you coffee.”

You looked at him, over your shoulder with a smile he might always adore. Meeting him halfway, you took your drink from him and mumbled, “Thank you.”

“They want to go to a movie later.” Jaehyun told you, “Johnny said something scary.”

Nodding, you took a sip, “How does Mark feel about that?”

Jaehyun only pulled a face; a wince.

You snorted, “What time?”

Jaehyun shrugged, you nodded a second time. Silence filled the room again; a moment to breathe, to let the breeze from the open door cool your forehead, your arms, your mind. You wanted to stand in silence in the autumn air, eyes closed, arms out, just breathing.

You wanted to ask Jaehyun if he felt it too. You’d never had a reason to hide something from him, you’d never been anything but honest with each other. You looked up at him, he looked anywhere but directly at you; sipping, sipping, sipping and breathing. Even if you had the courage, how could you ask him so outright?

You’re my best friend. You always reminded him and he wasn’t the one who needed reminding. You’re my best friend and every time you touch me, I fall apart.

You’re my best friend and every time you look at me all I can think about is your lips, your hands, your - Breathe. You had to breathe. Do you feel it, too?

Gathering your things, sipping your coffee, you said nothing. Jaehyun said nothing, but stood and watched. He stayed silent and you stayed silent. Then you were heading towards the door.

You decided to read him, you’d always been good at that and words were lost, so lost. So, you mumbled a quick goodbye, something about errands, something about seeing him later. With your hand on the doorknob, ready to swing it closed, you turned.

“Jae?” He looked up, smiling - he always smiled like that, “Hand.”

There were only a few steps between you, he overtook that space easily, quickly. Jaehyun laced his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand in his and watching you. Stepping towards him, you swallowed - it had to sound like a gulp, deep and panicked and caught in your throat. You didn’t look up at him, just at your hands, until you raised your head and kissed him. Just the corner of his lips, where they were upturned still, in a smile. A comfortable place between cheek and lips that would surely throw him, if he felt anything like you did.

A peck, a second of contact, felt like an eternity.

You pulled back, watching and waiting for him to do anything, to say anything, to falter and show that he felt anything.

Jaehyun squeezed your hand again: same grin, same grin, same simple, unfaltering grin. He let go and said, “Get home safe. I’ll see you later.”

You nodded, composure surprising you, mind racing. Still, you smiled, mirroring him and letting go of his hand to ruffle his hair, “I’ll see you later, Jae.”

Then you left.

You left, so you didn’t feel how his hands, his body, his heart tensed, then released, shaking. You left so you didn’t see how his face, ears and chest turned red, how he managed to keep it at bay until you’d closed the door. You left, so you didn’t see Jaehyun run his fingers through his hair, pacing and pacing and pacing around the loft, breathing in huffs because he was feeling something that he thought he shouldn’t. You left, so you didn’t hear him curse and groan and yell into his fist until he was hoarse. You left, so you missed all the signs you needed, his hand gently on the corner of his lips, because he was burning.

He willed himself to blame the coffee for the warmth he felt in his hands, in his chest, from his head to his toes. He didn’t want to think about how it was you that caused it. Jaehyun wouldn’t think or say that you were the source of every last bit of warmth he felt, since he met you. He would just sit, for the hours that stretched on and on until he saw you again, and think about how you’d say, “You’re my best friend.”

📻

When you stepped out of your house, next, the sun was setting. Most days, you’d considered the loss of daylight a curse, hating how early the sun went away in the colder months. Today, the sunset was stunning enough to make you forget. Streaks of vibrant orange chased at the softened blue of the day, hurrying it away and tucking the sun in for the night. For a moment, you stood on your doorstep in complete awe.

The vibrant sunset almost felt like an apology for the gloomy morning.

“There you are.” Your heart and stomach switched places for a second, his voice pulling you out of your trance, “Can I walk you?”

Johnny was at your gate, hands in his pockets. He smiled at you, as he always did, like he was moments away from teasing you. You let out a rush of air you’d gasped in and trapped in your lungs, “That was fucking horrifying, Johnny.”

He countered, “Pay more attention.”

“You were hidden.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Did you walk all the way here? From your house?”

“I took a bus.”

“You could’ve texted me.”

“It’s less romantic that way.”

Your eyebrow raised, “You’re trying to be romantic?”

“Not if you keep looking at me like that.” Something like shock, something like confusion. Definitely not the look he wanted to see on someone’s face when he was flirting. Johnny adjusted the beanie on his head, “You want to know something?”

You laughed, “Are you going to tell me even if I say no?”

He took a moment, looking at you but not speaking. So, you took a moment and did the same. It didn’t take long, in the suspended silence, for you to see Johnny was being serious. You’d blame not noticing sooner on the initial jump scare of his presence. Johnny shook his head, laughing and sighing; exaggerated and maybe uncomfortable.

“I think….” He looked up from his feet. He’d only glanced at them for a second, but he wanted to look at you when he said, “I think I like you.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Silence felt entirely wrong, but words were lost. After a while, you asked, “You think?”

Johnny shook his head, the simple action shook away any lingering nerves. He’d made it over the biggest hurdle; telling you. Johnny started to walk down the road, waiting for you to follow and calling over his shoulder, “No, I know I do.”

“You know you like me?” You’d scrambled to fall into stride with him, “Since when?”

He breathed, looking up at the sky, “A while. At least six months.”

“Why tell me now?”

“Two reasons.” Johnny held up two fingers, like you needed a visual representation. The reality was you needed him to slow down; his steps, his confession. Either would do, “The first being that I want you to sit by me at the movie. Second…I don’t know. It just felt right.”

He suddenly came to a halt, your reaction time was delayed, but you followed him and stood still. Johnny grabbed your shoulders and turned you, gently, to look at him. He waited and then leaned down, face inches away and his eyes set on yours. You blinked, but didn’t move. It didn’t feel entirely strange to be this close to him, but it felt sudden. Johnny let out a quiet ‘hm’ and set his lips into a certain frown.

You asked him, “What?”

He told you, “You’re reacting exactly how I thought you would and I thought if you reacted like that, I might…change my mind about it.”

“Johnny.” He said it so simply you almost missed that it was borderline rude. Shoving at his shoulder, you clicked your tongue, “How else am I supposed to react?”

“Not a clue.” He started walking, again. This push and pull, walk and stop was getting tiring. You hadn’t moved yet and he called over his shoulder, “Walk. We’re going to be late.”

“Six months?”

“About that, yeah.”

“You thought you were going to change your mind about it?”

He shrugged, “I could have. I didn’t really try, though. Didn’t want to.”

“So…” Finally, you had fallen back into step with him, the sun was tucked away for the night and the streets you wove through were lit up by towering lamps, porch lights and dimmed beams through open windows, “What do you want from this?”

Johnny looked at you, smiling, “Just sit by me at the movie. We’ll see how that goes.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from asking, clearing your throat, “Do…do Mark and Jaehyun know?”

“Yeah.” Johnny nodded, stepping over a lingering puddle that you plowed through, “Jaehyun told me not to tell you, Mark said I should.”

You almost choked, eyes wide and mouth suddenly dry. If Johnny looked at you, for the split second it took you to wipe your initial reaction off your face, you would have given yourself away. You rearranged your features into an expression you hoped conveyed shock mixed with anger. Maybe you were a bit angry, “Why did Jaehyun say that?”

Your taller friend let out a long sigh, turning a corner and fixing his gaze upward. Once more, his shoulders lifted in a shrug. Johnny did that a lot, but not once had you seen him move, speak or react with any genuine uncertainty. Even when he was shrugging he was confident and sure. It was hard not to think of the morning, when he said that. It was hard not to think of the corner-of-the-lips kiss, the unchanging expression, how you’d never felt like telling Jaehyun was just right.

Johnny being so assured was almost insulting, but also admirable.

“He said something about ruining the dynamic. He could be right.”

You didn’t say anything, again, your mind trapping you in a cycle. You wanted, so much, to be able to respond in a sensible, constructed way. You turned another corner, face twisted in thought with Johnny humming and paying no mind by your side. The theatre was up ahead, Jaehyun and Mark waiting for the two of you outside. Jaehyun and Mark not expecting the two of you to come together. Jaehyun and Mark facing opposite directions for that very reason; logically Johnny would’ve come from the opposite direction where Mark was stationed.

Jaehyun saw you first, swallowing hard.

He nudged Mark, “They’re over here.”

Mark asked, turning on his heel, “They?”

Jaehyun only nodded his head towards the two of you, mixing in and out of the crowd on the street, expression unreadable from such a distance. Johnny, however, could read it just fine, right next to you. He laughed, his head tilting down to get your attention, “Don’t think too hard about it.”

You looked at Johnny and said, “Okay.”

“Okay what?” He laughed.

Your feet came to a stop in the middle of the road. Johnny followed, waiting more patiently than you knew him to be. His expression had completely changed from the last time you saw him. This morning, Johnny had been waiting, mocking, like he expected you to say something. Now, Johnny was waiting, serious but calm and comfortable, like he wanted you to say what you needed to.

“I’ll sit next to you during the movie.”

“Good.” He offered you his hand, “Come on, let’s go.”

You took it, the feeling worlds away from Jaehyun’s. Holding Johnny’s hand, however, wasn’t uncomfortable, it wasn’t unpleasant. It was also definitely not on fire. He pulled you through the crowd, looking over heads until he saw Jaehyun and Mark. Johnny was leading you to them and only chuckled a bit when you dropped his hand, greeting your other friends.

“You guys came together?” Mark said, closer to a confirmation than a question.

Johnny made a face, his mocking face that almost seemed like a default for him, “She didn’t want to walk alone.”

“You could’ve called me.” Jaehyun spoke up, never looking away from you. He cleared his throat and quickly justified, “I live closer than Johnny.”

You looked at Jaehyun; how his fists clenched then released, how it was a perfectly reasonable justification, how he kept his face unreadable. For the first time, it felt like he was keeping something from you. You blinked but you laughed it off and shoved at Johnny like the twenty minute walk had been normal, like everything was normal.

“I didn’t call him. He just showed up on my doorstep.”

Mark laughed with you, “Yeah, that seems more accurate”

And then the topic dropped, Mark pulled you into the theatre and Jaehyun and Johnny followed behind. At one point, while buying snacks, you thought you heard Mark say to Jaehyun, “I think he told her.” But there was too much noise in the lobby and in your own head to hear Jaehyun’s response.

During the movie, you sat in between Mark and Johnny, with Jaehyun on Johnny's other side.

For the whole movie, you kept your hands in your lap, sometimes over your eyes, until a jump scare caught you off guard and you grabbed Johnny's hand. You tried to ignore the triumphant smile on his face, you tried to ignore the sound of your heart pounding because the hand you wanted to grab was one seat away. But, Jaehyun had his eyes forward whenever you took the risk of glancing at him and Johnny and Jaehyun, back to Johnny. Doing so for almost the entire movie had given you a headache.

Jaehyun was tense next to Johnny. Every time you looked at him, he held his breath and tried to look calm, normal, anything. He was blocking out the suggestion from Mark that Johnny had told you, but the movie wasn’t nearly good enough to distract him. Instead, he spent the majority of it watching you from his peripheral. Taking a sip of his drink and swallowing hard when he saw you grab Johnny’s hand. If Mark had been right, if Johnny had told you….he didn’t want to think about it. Jaehyun couldn’t let himself think about it.

It, of course, was all he could think about.

So, two sets of eyes bounced back and forth, just missing each other and searching for the same thing, until the movie ended and Mark said, “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

Johnny walked you home. Jaehyun took a nonsensical route to avoid following the two of you, kicking rocks and cans and causing a ruckus in the otherwise quiet alleyways. Johnny joked and you laughed and he took your hand and you let him. When you were coming up to your house, you kept your eyes forward trying to twist and wind your vision down the streets to see if Jaehyun had made it home. At your doorstep, Johnny pulled you to a stop and grinned.

“What are you thinking?” He asked.

“I’m cold.”

Johnny slipped off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. Underneath your layers you missed your heart doing the smallest of flutters, the simplest of flips, skipping the shortest beat. It went completely unnoticed. He squared his feet once more and asked, again, “Okay. Now how do you feel?”

It was funny enough, so you laughed enough, “About what?”

“Us.”

Us. Your mind circled around the word, every thought related to it swirling like a tornado. You scrunch your face a bit, looking sideways and down at the ground. Us was a simple enough word but, given the context, a dizzying concept. Us in relation to Johnny, up until three and a half hours ago, just meant friends. Friends who relentlessly tease and bully each other. Friends who flop down in a dog pile on a mattress together more frequently than they sleep in their own beds. Friends who get drunk and run screaming through the streets in the middle of the night. Friends who egg each other on until one breaks and the other one follows and they both do something reckless.

Us, in the way Johnny meant it, felt reckless.

You shrugged, letting out a sigh, “What does that even mean?”

Johnny laughed, eyes wrinkling at the corners, “Okay, fine. How do you feel about me?”

“About you?”

“Yes.”

“How do I feel about Johnny Suh?”

“That’s me.” He rocked on his heels, the action shockingly endearing. You’d seen this flip switch in him before; the one that amped up his charm. Being on the receiving end of it, however, was giving you whiplash. Johnny tacked on, “Or, more specifically, what I told you?””

You looked up at Johnny, who put absolutely no pressure on you to answer but still waited, in case you did. You asked him, quietly, “Can I sleep on it?”

He nodded. You knew if he didn’t have a beanie on his hair would have flopped into his eyes. You knew, given the energy and the circumstances, you might think it was adorable. So, when Johnny asked if he could kiss you, you said yes. And he did. It was soft, the way he cupped your face with one hand and pulled you nearer with the other. It was sweet, the way he bent his knees a bit to be more level. It was warm, when his lips met yours and moved, but only slightly. It was comfortable, when he pulled away and gave you that grin he was known for.

When Johnny breathed and stepped back, only a bit, he suggested, “If you think about it too long, I really might change my mind.”

You’d made a habit of shoving him tonight. It didn’t seem like this moment should be an exception, “Oh my God. Go home.”

Johnny stumbled back and laughed, hand on his chest. He watched you turn and open your gate, ignoring him when he urged, “And?”

You only turned to answer him when you were at your door, “And let me know when you get there.”

“Will do.” Johnny saluted, turning on his heel and wandering away, “Goodnight. Great kiss.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped inside. For a moment, you stood in the entryway quietly, pulling off your shoes and stepping into your slippers. You took out your phone, unlocking it and staring blankly at the screen. It was normal, it was instinct for you to text him. It was normal, it was instinct to make sure he’d made it back home. Your fingers still hesitated, hovering over his name; Jaehyun.

You typed, 10:12pm Did you make it back home?

It was only a minute before he replied, 10:13pm I did. Did you?

You told him, 10:13pm Yeah.

You wanted to type more. You wanted to call him. For the first time, you felt like you were hiding something as well. The evening had exhausted you with first time feelings. You gnawed on your lip, typing and deleting and hoping Jaehyun wasn’t watching his phone like you’d been. Hoping he wouldn’t see your un-Johnnylike indecision.

Finally, you asked him, 10:15pm How did you feel about the movie?

10:17pm I think we need to stop letting Johnny pick. He replied.

You laughed, letting out the breath you’d been holding. Wandering into the kitchen and without thinking, you tapped to call him. When he picked up, at the sound of his rustling sheets, you said, “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Not this time.” Jaehyun laughed. The sound of your voice put him at ease. He worked to convince himself you weren’t defending Johnny’s poor movie choices because Johnny had confessed and you’d accepted. But, it was the most prominent voice in his head until you spoke and drowned it out. Jaehyun continued, “But, Johnny also made us go see Boss Baby and I don’t know how you and Mark look past that.”

You laughed. God he really loved that sound. Your hands busied themselves with whatever was within reach in the kitchen; toying with the knives in the knife block, pulling open the fridge and shutting it, sitting through your junk drawer. Any sound to drown out how unsteady your breathing was. You had to tell him, you knew you did. But, maybe he was right and maybe Johnny was right. Maybe it would ruin the dynamic.

It slipped out, “Johnny told me he likes me, Jae.”

He wasn’t breathing anymore. Jaehyun wasn’t moving or breathing or reacting. He was laying in his bed wishing he could go back and stop you from telling him that. Jaehyun was sweating in the worst way, heart beating erratically against his chest. He’d never felt panic like this, not that he could remember. But, Jaehyun was having trouble remembering much of anything other than the last sentence you’d said. Because Johnny had confessed to you, and you….you….

“What did you say?” He asked, correcting himself once again with, “I mean to Johnny. What did you say to him?”

“That I needed to think about it.” It was true. That I needed to think about it because of you would have been more accurate, but simplicity might have been best. It was certainly easier.

“What do you think about it?” Jaehyun didn’t really want to know the answer. But, it seemed like the appropriate response. If you were telling him, maybe you were trying to work it out. Maybe, despite how it twisted his stomach into knots, you needed his help with Johnny. He asked another question hoping you’d forget the first one, “Is that why you sat by him during the movie?”

“Mm.” You didn’t know how else to respond. Your hands had stopped fidgeting, hanging limp at your sides and shaking. “I don’t know how I feel.”

You told Jaehyun because you made a promise to not hide things. You told Jaehyun because you were hoping for something even if you didn’t know exactly what. You told Jaehyun because it was easier than saying “I wish it had been you to confess. Or me.”

He made a noise of agreement on the other end of the phone call. Jaehyun really couldn’t bring himself to do much else. The only thing he wanted to say was how much he wished he had the confidence, the reckless and unbridled tenacity that Johnny did. Jaehyun wanted to say that it should’ve been him on your doorstep, walking you to the movie. Holding your hand, as he always did, but with an entirely new meaning; better, so much better.

Jaehyun reminded himself to breathe. He thought for a moment and then let out a laugh that he didn’t really mean to release. You not knowing could still be a silver lining and one he was willing to hold onto, no matter how desperate it was, “It’s okay to not know.”

You laughed too, uncomfortable and mostly to hide any detectable unsteadiness, “It just like…it came out of nowhere, right? He told me he told you and Mark. I just…I don’t know what to do about it.”

Then, Jaehyun said something he regretted immediately. In an attempt to be a supportive friend, with the hopes that you’d ultimately land on the only logical solution; that you and Johnny were wrong for each other and you and Jaehyun were right. Jaehyun told you, quietly and trying to sound encouraging, “Just go with what you feel. Do what feels right.”

“Oh.” You said. Your voice fell into a whisper. “Oh. Okay, right. That makes sense.”

Do what feels right. Johnny knew what felt right to him, Johnny was sure that you felt right and telling you was right. He made it look so easy.

Jaehyun continued his mission to say regretful things, “We’ll support you.”

“Right.” You needed him to stop talking. You needed his indifference and encouragement to stop or transform into something like longing, desperation. You’d take either one over whatever he was giving you, “I think…I’m going to go to bed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Of course.” His voice was quiet now, too. He knew, almost instantly, how much he’d messed up, “Sleep well.”

“You too.”

And then you hung up. You carried yourself up to your bed and draped your body across it, looking up at the ceiling and wishing you could see the stars. Jaehyun rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillows and wishing he could see your face. You swallowed every feeling and every thought, memorizing how each one tasted as it went down and wincing at the ones that came back up.

Johnny knew it was right. And maybe the fact that you hadn’t ever felt like it was right with Jaehyun was a bigger sign than you were willing to admit. Maybe you’d been chasing something foolish and fueled by your own imagination. You wanted to scream and cry and, most importantly, you wanted to know what right felt like.

It felt right to be near to Jaehyun, as near as possible. It felt right to hold his hand, to hug him, to fall asleep with each other and to put your lips to his cheek, his forehead, his nose. But, it never felt right to tell him exactly how right, how wonderful, how perfect it all felt.

Johnny knew it was right.

Hours later, after mulling over every thought, taking every possible route you could think of, you settled and started to drift off. It wouldn’t be terrible, being with Johnny. In some aspects, it might be better than being just his friend. You felt guilt, like it might be unfair to force yourself into this; unfair to you and to Johnny. To the entire group and the foundation you’d all spent years building. It might also be unfair to not try at all. There was only one clear reason why you shouldn’t, wouldn’t, almost couldn’t date Johnny and it began and ended with Jeong Jaehyun.

You weighed that thought against all the reasons it might be just fine, great even, being with Johnny.

Drifting off, your final thoughts convinced you; if Johnny knew it was right with you, and you never knew when or if it would be right with Jaehyun, maybe you’d know what’s right with Johnny.

📻

He was outside your house again, hands in his pockets but without his beanie. You saw him through your bedroom window and Johnny waved like he’d been invited, like he was meant to be there. Like it was right.

His certainty, again, borderline offensive.

You stood in front of him, on one side of the gate, “How long have you been out here?”

“Check your phone.”

You’d been ignoring the device since your conversation with Jaehyun; tiptoeing around it like any sudden movements would provoke it to ring, buzz, ding. Worried, mostly, about more encouraging words from Jaehyun. Pulling it out from your pocket was the first time you’d checked and - mixed in with the multiple messages from Jaehyun - ten minutes ago, Johnny had told you he was near your house. You mumbled, “Ah.”

That smile. That particular smile. In the gentle light of an unremarkable fall morning, Johnny gave you that smile and you finally noticed that small hiccup in your heart. Maybe it was nerves, maybe it was your subconscious urging you to take a chance. It was honest, it was warm, it was playful and exciting. That smile, without much else, could convince you to do a lot of things.

Squaring your shoulders, tilting your head and letting out a quick laugh, you asked him, “Did you come here to tell me you changed your mind?”

He shook his head, hair flopping just as it should. You’d been right to think he’d look good like that. Then again, he probably always had, “Nope. Haven’t changed it at all. What about you?”

“Wouldn’t I need to make up my mind to change it?” You asked. It was a valid question, a little less than twelve hours wasn’t much time to consider anything, really. Johnny nodded, so you continued, “Can I ask you something?”

He leaned against the stone wall the gate was settled into, “Okay, ask away.”

You wanted to ask him if he was willing to take things slow. You wanted to ask Johnny, if you did take a chance on this, if you had to tell Mark and Jaehyun everything right away. You wanted to ask if, by asking that, were you still reacting exactly how he thought you would.

You looked up at him, matching his stance on the opposing side of the stone wall. You were face to face, eye to eye - which was rare, considering his height. Looking at Johnny in that moment, the way his eyes were shining with no help from the absent sun; how his lips curled up just slightly like he was both mocking and admiring you; like maybe you were the only thing he could see or wanted to. It was such a strange feeling. You briefly remembered exactly how it felt to kiss him, only half a day ago and could feel the blush burning from your cheeks to the the tips of your ears. Every question you thought to ask him dissolved and you were left just staring at each other, wind rustling his hair and yours.

The gust of wind urged a sigh from somewhere deep in your lungs, the words followed the breath out of your lips before you could stop them, “Have you always looked at me like that?”

Johnny’s smile broke, wider than ever and his eyes lifted into half moons, “Probably. At least for the last six months. But, I’m good at hiding it.”

“Because you thought you’d change your mind.” You teased him.

“You’re not going to let that go, huh?”

You only shrugged. Neither of you moved to a new position, his eyes still sparkled and your cheeks still burned red. You asked him, “Why?”

Johnny laughed then, repeating, “Why? Why what?”

It felt pathetic to ask him “why me,” but some part of you needed to know. On top of that, Johnny’s…confession had been very uniquely Johnny; straightforward, a fact, like he was telling you the Earth was round and you were ridiculous for not knowing. The Earth is round and birds fly and I like you. He didn’t elaborate and you didn’t know if he ever would, but you wanted him to. You wanted a wild confession, a passionate one.

“Why do you like me?” It took all your courage to ask, you were grateful that your voice didn’t falter, “At least three reasons.”

It was also becoming annoying how you were suddenly so painfully shy in front of Johnny. You hated that feeling, but the atmosphere had changed so quickly it was hard to find your footing.

He nodded his head, looking up towards the sky and mumbling, “Okay, three reasons.”

Then he was silent. For a very long time. You shuffled from one foot to the other, and Johnny stood still fixing his face to look like he was impossibly deep in thought. Occasionally he’d sigh, he’d pick at his hair or tap his chin. A few times, Johnny murmured things like “no, don’t say that” or “maybe” and once “oh, I can’t say that.”

You huffed out an annoyed laugh, tossing your head back and tapping at the stone, “Jesus, don’t strain yourself.”

“I’m narrowing it down.” He stated. Simplicity, again, “You only wanted three reasons.”

“How many reasons do you have?”

Johnny turned his attention back to you, a wild, remarkable, troublemaking grin on his face. He put both hands back on the stone, one hand on top of the other and placed his chin on top of them, “About one million.”

“I hate you.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips, and pushed yourself back to walk into your house. Johnny called your name. When you didn’t turn back, you could hear the gate swing open, slam shut and the thudding of his feet on the pathway. Johnny laughed - he was always laughing, “Wait.”

Still, you didn’t turn, stepping up to your front door. You glanced over your shoulder to tell him, almost scolding him, “That was so corny.”

Johnny stood on the bottom step, you on the top. He grabbed your hand, pulling you to turn around and look at him. That smile was still there, it made your stomach flip. It was hard to keep up with how your body, your mind, your heart was reacting. Your phone burned in your pocket, suddenly remembering Jaehyun, remembering you ignoring Jaehyun. Remembering Jaehyun telling you to do what felt right and he’d support you.

Johnny licked his lips, “Kiss me.”

“What?”

He corrected, “Can I kiss you? Again?” After a moment, he tacked on a gentle, “Please?”

His smile never left. The smile that could convince you to do a lot of things. The smile that pulled you down the middle step, down so you were once again eye level with Johnny. The smile that only fell when you leaned in and Johnny leaned in and you were so close that you could feel him breathing. If you listened close enough, you could hear his heart beating loudly in time with yours. Johnny kissed you, you kissed him back.

His lips, God his lips, were soft against yours and warm despite the chill of fall. Johnny lifted the hand he was still holding to rest on his shoulder, his own hands wrapping around you to pull you against him. Your other hand naturally found its way to the nape of his neck, stroking the hair there and you swear you hear him moan when you do. So you smile, and you melt and you immerse yourself in feeling his body against yours, his lips moving perfectly, slowly. The exact passion you were wanting but entirely wordless. It was hard not to whine when he pulled away, it felt like an eternity and it felt entirely too short.

Johnny waited for you to catch your breath and open your eyes. He held you by your hips and didn’t break eye contact when he said, “I feel like you think I’m joking and I’m not.”

You shook your head, “I don’t think you’re joking, I’m just….shocked.”

“Good shock or bad shock?” Johnny asked, but he added, “Based on the way you just kissed me, I’m hoping good.”

“If you stop being corny, I’ll let you know faster.” You laughed, so he laughed, but neither one of you moved. You both just stood there for a moment, holding onto each other, breathing, blinking, smiling. After a while, you told Johnny, “I think it’s good. Right now, I think it’s a good shock. But, you gave yourself six months to change your mind, so I expect the same.”

He shook his head, “Nah, in six months you’ll already be too in love with me and I’ll have wanted you for a full year.”

Another skipped heartbeat, another small stomach flip. You had to push away the question of if you could fall in love with Johnny. Honestly, anyone could. It would be so easy, especially if he kept kissing you like that. Still, you didn’t think it would be nearly as fun to give into him so quickly. It would likely never hurt to humble Johnny.

“You think I’ll fall in love with you that fast, huh?”

He didn’t waver, “Probably faster, if I’m being honest.”

Your eyebrows raised, leaning back to look fully at Johnny. He looked so proud of himself, you thought about kissing him again. Instead, you said, “I feel like you’re trying to start a bet with me and I don’t think the target is supposed to be in on that kind of bet.”

“I’m not.” He told you; another fact. Johnny pulled you closer, he didn’t hesitate but lingered for a moment before bringing his lips to your cheek. He placed a kiss there before his lips hovered over your ear, “But, if I were making a bet, I’d say three months.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing him back finally and stepping back up to the top step. He put his hands in his pockets, still looking proud and something like invincible, “Wouldn’t I have to give you a chance, first?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Am I?”

“I’d like you to.” He took a bold step up, matching your height again, “I would very much like you to.”

Observation had been key in the last twenty four hours. It was hard to adjust to him looking at you like that, hard to take it all in. But, none of it was unwelcome. It was just shocking. You’d always thought Johnny would be the type to make a crush he had, any crush, obvious. Johnny was the type to be loud about that sort of thing. You considered, for a second, that maybe he had been and that you had been so wrapped up in…that you hadn’t noticed it.

“Okay, Johnny.”

“Okay, what?” It was almost a whisper. He was so close again when he said your name, “Okay to what? I want you to say it.”

“Okay to…sitting next to you at another movie. Just the two of us.” You breathed, it felt like a comfortable enough offer when all you could really think about was kissing Johnny again. Johnny, your friend. Johnny, who was now looking at you like you were made of starlight, “Okay to…giving this a shot. Is that good?”

“It’s good.” He seemed like he was reconsidering that answer, then he mended it saying, “It’s great. Really great. When? Are you free later?”

You were, so you nodded without much thought and leaned against your front door. From your back pocket, now pressed against the door, you felt and heard your phone vibrate. Johnny’s went off, too, which meant it was one of two people. You felt your heart stop, watching Johnny take his phone out to check and he told you, “It’s Mark. You haven’t seen his phone charger, right?”

You shook your head as a reply, maybe to shake out your thoughts, as well. You had to ask him. Even if it was unfair, you had to. The way your heart paused, meant you had to. How your hands started sweating and shaking, you had to. You were consciously thinking about every breath you took just by thinking it was Jaehyun texting the two of you. So, even if you hated to, you had to ask.

“Johnny. I have to ask something else.” He looked up, your phone buzzed again with whatever Johnny had typed, he nodded for you to continue, “Can we…Look, I want to take this…”

“You don’t want to tell Mark and Jaehyun.” You paused, knowing the answer was yes. Johnny waited for you to respond, when you forced your head to nod, he sighed. He tucked his phone away and tapped his fingers on his knee, “For how long?”

You shrugged your shoulders and closed your eyes, head against the door. It was pushing too far, asking him to keep this from your two other best friends. You offered, “I just want to feel this out. It kind of came out of nowhere.”

“Of course it came out of nowhere. I know you.” Johnny told you, with his grin and his floppy hair and his certainty, “You’re good at a lot of things, but one of those things is talking yourself out of stuff.”

“Oh, yikes.” He was right, of course. It still nipped at your pride, “Okay.”

“Hey.” Johnny dipped down once more, hand reaching out to hold onto your arm. He waited for you to acknowledge him before he said, “It’s not a bad thing. A lot of the time, you’re the voice of reason in the group. That brain of yours is good for the dynamic.”

That brain of yours could only think how Jaehyun said this might be bad for the dynamic. You and Johnny might be bad for the dynamic.

Johnny could see you slipping back into thought, something he’d really wanted to avoid. He wished, in that moment and a lot of moments in the past, that he could reach inside your head and pull you back out. Johnny had been good about it before, making jokes or distracting you or picking a fight. Doing any of that didn’t fit this mood, however. So, Johnny simply asked you, “What’s on your mind?”

You told him, just as simply, “I don’t want to make you feel like a secret.”

“I won’t. What else?”

“I just…” Sighing the words out was the only way they’d breach your lips, “It’s a big change.”

“It is.” Johnny agreed, “But for what it's worth, you’ve always been the best with change. And…”

“And?”

“And now that I’ve done it twice, I really don’t want to have to stop kissing you.” He’d made you laugh, again. Johnny didn’t mean to make you laugh, he’d never been more serious about something. But, he found that when he didn’t expect to hear it is when your laugh sounded the sweetest. So, he smiled at you and let you laugh, “We’ll tell them eventually. When you’re ready. In about two weeks, when you’re officially in love with me.”

“Two weeks? You said three months.”

He straightened, “I was accounting for group time.”

“We’ll still have group time. If anything, group time will drag it out longer.”

“Drag what out longer?”

You rolled your eyes, “Me falling in love with you.”

“So, you're admitting you will fall in love with me?”

“Jesus Christ, Johnny.” You turned from him, opening the door to go inside. Johnny was probably smiling, probably smug, probably adorable behind you, “Pick a movie and let me know what time, okay?”

“Will do. And, hey,” He waited for you to look back at him - you were right, he was smug. Johnny pointed towards you, vaguely, “You look really good in my jacket.”

Until that point, you hadn’t noticed. It was the first jacket on the hook when you’d come outside, which made sense. You couldn’t tell if you were blushing or if the rush of fall air tinted your cheeks; you felt hot and cold all at once, so it was almost impossible to tell. Johnny made his way down your steps, you stood at the door watching him. But, when he got to the gate, he turned and looked at you. His expression was signature Johnny; mischievous, playful, calculating. He shook his head, hair flopping again and his tongue swiping across his bottom lip.

Johnny took exactly six strides to get back to you, down the path and up the stairs, and when his lips were an inch away from yours, he asked, “One more time? Please?”

So you kissed him. And it felt sweet, on its way to intoxicating. And it felt warm, on its way to burning. It felt comfortable, on its way to right.

masterlist. next.

#nct fluff #nct angst #jaehyun angst #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x you #johnny x reader #johnny suh x reader #johnny suh x you #johnny suh fluff #johnny suh angst #nct johnny fluff

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liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 7 months ago

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Hi there,

Saw your post about Cajun/cowboy Alastor and OMG! I don’t have many ideas other then maybe he plays poker for souls or something like that and maybe a reader comes into town and is just as good at poker as he is. And he cannot seem to win, leading him to become mildly obsessed over winning their soul.

Thats all I have as I don’t know much about cajun/cowboy stuff.

I’ll let you know if I have any other ideas!

Thank you!

Alastor - [ ACE OF HEARTS ]

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A/N: Omg, I love your take on cowboy Al! It got me thinking about it for days. I have never played poker, so I had to watch multiple YouTube videos to understand the game while writing this. Hopefully, it came out accurate enough! Also, this is a very, VERY traumatic/smut-heavy fic I'm working on, so please be aware and know I don't endorse anything I write.

WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ MATURE THEMES ] + [ FEM READER ] + [ GUN PLAY… ] + [ SLIGHT DUB CON….eventually.] + [ SLIGHT/IMPLIED AGE GAP ] + [ MENTIONS OF GORE/BLOOD/CANNABILISM ] + [ KIDNAPPING…sort of?.. ] + [ PARENTAL PHYSICAL AB*SE…eventually..] + [ ANGST/TRUAMA…]

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**Cowboy Alastor** is known for his record of killing, is a skilled bounty hunter, and is far from a decently moral one. Everyone assumes his motives, guessing who his next target is and if he’ll ever feel guilt for what he does to them.

He doesn't.

What kind of demon would he be if he did…

Besides, the people he kills owe him in one way or another, all in debt to the red demon by their stupidity and lust for life, so he feels nothing for them when the time comes for the price of their deals to be paid.

Alastor arrives for them in the dead of dry nights, taking their last breath with a single bullet to the head or a clean cut across the throat. Their pleas do little to affect his decision.

“A deal is a deal…”

He reminds them that escaping a bloody end is impossible, already solidified by their selfish desires, and no amount of begging will change his mind. They curse his name, glaring at the grin on his face as he draws nearer with deathly intent in his eyes, and it only grows as he derives pleasure from their refusal to cooperate.

The riches, the riding, and the roughness he endures daily are nothing compared to the satisfaction he gets from killing. Others may deal in chasing oil, farming land, and cattle, but he stakes his fulfillment in the business of blood.

**Cowboy Alastor** dabbles in gambling when he's not off-striking deals with lowly souls or wreaking havoc on those he deems deserving.

Every city south of New Orleans with a bar or saloon welcomes his visits and not by choice.

Those who don't meet his standards or demands of hospitality drop from the face of the earth at his will, burning to a crisp full of the dead occupants who so lightly offended him, and never to be rebuilt out of fear he'd return to demolish it again.

He surely would, but no one has yet to test the theory in fear of a painful death by his hands.

Alastor leisurely travels the expanse of Louisiana's countryside, partial to riding wherever the wind blows, but he’ll always return to the rumbling city of New Orleans.

Whether for personal reasons or because his beloved mother wished to see him, it becomes second nature for the deer demon to reside there randomly. It was his hometown, after all, and he preferred the taste of whiskey from a familiar place over foreign alcohol in far-off dusty taverns he'd never visit again.

The saloon he fancies sits opposite the central townhouse, a tall building at the end of a main street that never seemed to rest.

Lafitte’s Blacksmith Bar

Summer nights brought out and drew in more people, filling the bar with patrons who knew of his deeds and those who’d only heard scarring stories about him through the ladder. The knowledge of a red reaper roaming the towns of Louisiana varied, but their fearful respect of him was abundant the moment Alastor stepped foot into the bustling bar.

He was there, in good spirits for the most part, but still an impossible threat they couldn't brush off.

**Cowboy Alastor** greets the silent patrons with a sly grin, tipping his hat to the fear-stricken owner who eyed him from behind the packed bar.

“Don't let me interrupt the fun, Cher. I'm not here to cause you trouble… that's if you're kind enough to indulge me.”Alastor chuckles, not waiting for a proper response from anyone as he stalks over to his usual spot in the smokey parlor.

A group of cattlemen stiffen in their seats as he walks by, all grabbing their drinks as swiftly as possible before leaping up from their table to avoid him, and their skittish actions cause Alastor to laugh as he settles into a particular backroom booth.

It was customary for people to keep their distance from him, some deterred by his striking appearance while others simply didn't want to risk involvement with a known killer. He saw nothing wrong with their aversion, glad that his reputation proceeded him, but there were those single few who saw him as a challenge rather than a threat.

Poor fools…

Mortal or not, he ran into them regularly, welcoming their duels like a bored child getting a new toy to destroy, and though he knew they'd fail to win against him, he'd never turn down a good game.

Ever…

**Cowboy Alastor** lets the saloon wind into chaos again, humming along to the melody of music and rowdy singing while getting comfortable in his secluded spot.

His hat rests low on his head, shielding most of his red gaze from those who look his way, only leaving the view of his Cheshire smile and effectively signaling his oddly calm demeanor. Alastor slipped his riding jacket off, tossing the tailored burgundy clothing across the back of the booth, his leather and suede black gloves following suit.

“What a day it's been…” he mumbled while flexing his long fingers, relaxing his posture while leaning back and rolling his neck until a soft ‘pop’ was heard.

Consequently, the tension tangled in his limber body from riding all day unraveled. Alastor sucked his teeth at the feeling, licking his lips as a satisfied groan left them, and just as he sat forward again, the owner hurried to his table with a bottle of alcohol and a tray of cigars.

“Your usual, Al,” he split out, setting the items in front of him with shakey hands, and Alastor clicks his tongue at the nervous tick. He'd come to this bar for years, and the old man still trembled in his boots around him. The poor fool wouldn't dare admit his fear either, rushing off as soon as he reached for the bottle, and though some might consider his retreat rude, Alastor found it amusing.

Flattering, even.

**Cowboy Alastor** drinks slowly, letting the whiskey burn his tongue and drowning the malt taste with languid drags from a cigar.

Eyes scan over him, women whisper about him lustfully under the rowdy music, and the men keep their senses about them with happy trigger fingers.

Because as they say: “Red Reaper, Red Reaper. The devil's solemn deal keeper. Beware him & the hell he seeks…”

Alastor imposes his intensity, grinning at those who stare too long, watching the women who drink him in with an equally sultry stare, and daring the men to throw a bullet his way with a knowing smirk. He invites trouble, waiting for it like a preying snake in tall, dry grass, but after some time, he assumes no one in the saloon will accept his invitation.

That is until you step in, looking lost among the worldly thrills of a bar but unafraid to venture further into it with an air of certainty surrounding you.

**Cowboy Alastor** makes no move to approach you, laid back as ever, as he observes the gentle way you speak to men who drunkenly approach you. They make offers to dance, almost crowding your more diminutive form as you trail to the bar.

“Sorry, boys, but I'm here on business, not pleasure. Now, run along..” you wave them away playfully, purposely flirtatious but avidly stern.

He expects them to continue bugging you; you're a doll, after all, prettier than most women he's seen. However, the men retreat politely, leaving you be as the owner approaches your side, and you immediately turn to hug him despite his apparent concerned expression.

Alastor observes the exchange closely, reading your lips perfectly while sipping at his drink, and it's all too easy for him to assess the situation.

The daughter of a businessman returns home after finishing school in the north, wanting to visit him at work as a pleasant surprise, but he's far from happy about a young lady like yourself being out late at night in a place like this.

You're too mannered to be seen around the patrons, it's dangerous for you to ride alone in the evening, and your father isn't pleased you intend to stay out to celebrate your school completion.

He tells you it's best to go home, that he'll come with you, but you insist on staying and remind him, “I'm not your little girl anymore, Daddy!..” The older man can't seem to rein you in, having to drop the lecture as a small brawl breaks out in the corner of the saloon, which draws his attention immediately, and this leaves you to wander the scene freely.

A perfect time for Alastor to reel you in close and personal…

**Cowboy Alastor** whistles when you walk past his area, catching your attention with a short, soulful melody, and you quickly notice him in the dim back room.

“Hi there, lil’ lady. Searchin' for somethin'?” He inquires playfully, tone bordering sensual, and his grin slipping into a closed smile as your gaze settles on him.

You’re curious, not scared of him like most are, and the moment he speaks to you, questions race through your head.

Who is he?

How have you never seen him here before?

Why, in God's name, is he sitting away from the masses?

Is he a rider, a hunter, or maybe a convict?

It was hard to tell from a distance, so without a second thought, you flashed him a gentle smile, gradually approaching where he sat, “Hello, and who might you be, sir?” You chirp a greeting, resisting the urge to bite your lip as he stares into your wandering gaze.

Alastor assumed you’d been away from the South too long to realize who he was, that your father's earlier warning didn’t sprout from overprotectiveness but rather fear of his presence.

You didn’t see him as a threat, nor a danger, but a new face in an old town.

He chuckles, putting out his cigar after taking a particularly long drag from it, blowing smoke past his lips with a coy hum. You blink as the convoluted air fans your face, unbothered by it and itching for a taste of tobacco yourself. It’d been a few years since you’d let loose, not allowed to frequent bars or act unladylike in the limelight of northern modesty.

“A loyal patron, but it’s been some time since I’ve paid this place a visit.” He answers you politely, an odd trait that most men only reserved for themselves but refreshing to experience.

“Oh, well, that’s nice to hear, but your name is what I would like to know.”

A tender smirk stretches your lips, a red hue dusting your cheeks as he tips his hate apologetically before uttering a response, “Alastor Hartifelt. A pleasure to meet you, Miss…” he pauses, quirking a brow at you expectantly, and you take a moment to analyze him further.

You've heard your father utter his name many times before your departure to the north. He'd described him brutally, having less than pleasant things to say about bounty hunters in general but especially about the man in front of you now. You'd heard people talk of his deeds, deals, and evil.

He was dubbed the ‘Red Reaper’ for a good reason, lurking around in the bitter nights and drawing blood from one poor soul or another in his travels.

Supposedly, he was a terrifying monster, but you'd always found beauty in the demented. It was one of the reasons your father had sent you away, but fortunately, the influence of the posh upper class did nothing to change your consciousness.

Besides, the rumors had failed to mention how attractive the red reaper was, let alone dashing. He seemed nice enough hadn't flashed his weapon, threatened, or catcalled you disrespectfully.

So, you found no harm in telling him your name, “Y/n L/n. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Hartifelt.” You blink slowly, drowning in his red eyes, unconsciously swaying where you stood, back to a wall that hid your presence near him from your father's eyes and the curious stares of others.

Alastor glanced at the space beside him, silently asking that you join him, but unlike most women, he rarely took an interest in, you didn't move until he asked you outright.

“Would you care to join me for a drink, Miss L/n? I'd like to have your company for a while..”

He doesn't speak any louder than needed, using every bit of charm he has to lure you in, and you let him believe he's succeeded with a sensual laugh and purring laugh.

“Why, I thought you'd never ask..”

**Cowboy Alastor** asks a lot of questions. Subtly gathering information about you that he has no use for.

You give him answers; some are lies, others are indiscriminate truths, but you can't bring yourself to be completely honest with a stranger known for his cunning. He keeps your glass full, pacing the liquor with you, reveling in your gentle laughter after every sip, and softening faster and faster the longer you conversed.

You kept your wits about you as best as possible, inviting his fleeting touches but never going further than whispering in his ear or tapping a finger under his sharp chin when he'd stare too long.

Alastor didn't mind your soft hands on him, nor your lingering gaze and confident provocations. He absentmindedly returned the gestures just as boldly.

Your fifth glass of whiskey was running low, and without a hint of hesitation, he refilled it alongside his own. You watched as the amber liquid filled each glass, utterly relaxed as he spoke to you tenderly, “You say your father sent you far up north. May I ask why?…”

He peers at you, sliding the transparent glass into your waiting hand, and you chuckle wryly while taking a sip. “Daddy says it was for my good. You see, my mother is a stickler about manners, and I didn't have much of any growing up. Ironic, seeing as I was raised well enough.” you paused, frowning at the memory of your strict but loving mother.

She was lovely to look at and kind most of the time, but her ambitions for you outweighed her patience. Alastor noted the haunting sadness in your eyes but said nothing as you continued, looking out into the crowd of patrons fussing about as you did.

“My mother died a few years back, leaving daddy to handle me, and when he realized he couldn't manage the business and a daughter, he sent me away. Couldn't blame him either; I was getting into trouble left and right and had some bad habits on the rise, too.”

His ears perked at the words ‘bad habits’ leaving your lips, naturally drawn to knowing a mortal's darkest secrets, so he pressed for clarification.

“Bad habits, you say? I couldn't imagine a sweet thing like you havin’ such things.”

You scoffed, glad your cheeks were flushed from the alcohol buzz to mask the blush his comment invoked, “Well…I did. Still do if I'm honest.” you admit in a hushed tone, knocking back the last of your drink before glancing his way.

“It's hard to resist doing things you're good at.”

Alastor leaned back into the seat, drink in one hand, the other fixing his hat so it sat back on his head. The adjustment gave you a peek at his fluffy red hair and the distinctive blood-marked x on his forehead. You thought to ask what the mark meant but saved the question for later, as he agreed with your statement.

“Very true, ma chere. Although I'm one for killin’, your passion may not be so grizzly and easier to alleviate.”

“My father thinks gambling is just as bad as killing. It doesn't matter if he's addicted to it himself or not. If I do it…I'm the devil's daughter in his eyes..” You roll your eyes, an action that jolts a nerve Alastor hasn't felt in years and subconsciously doesn't ignore.

“Gambling? That's your unproper poison?” he narrows his gaze as you nod lazily, a few ringlets of your hair falling from its pinned-up style as you do, resting on the skin of your shoulders and neck.

Soft.

Your locks look soft and silky to the touch, tempting him to run his fingers through it, across your skin, and, god forbid, under your dress.

A heavy breath settled in his chest at the possibility, a familiar rush coursing through him as you moved your lips to speak, “Yes. I see a stack of playin’ cards, and I just can't help myself. I got rather good at playing too but when you beat everyone in town at it people start to be less kind about your reputation.”

You laugh, attempting to make a light-hearted joke but ultimately grimacing at the mention of lousy sportsmanship from others. You couldn't help winning a challenge in poker, and many saw the talent as disgraceful, which prompted I'll rumor about you.

“That's a shame, sugar. Everyone deserves a chance to play a good game of their choosing.” he feigns concern, meeting your curious eyes as you shift to face him, “Everyone except me if my father has anything to say about it. Still, I suppose it's best I let it go…” you sigh, grabbing the bottle of whiskey to pour another shot.

Suddenly, you freeze, feeling his body heat invade your space. Alastor tilts his head down close to yours, breathing in your scent discretely before pressing his lips to the lobe of your ear as he mutters into it, “Why don't you play a game with me, chere? One lil’ round for fun… right under your daddy's nose, hm?”

The burn of excitement seizes your body, a shakey breath leaving your lips as his voice settles in your mind, inviting you to indulge his offer. That same heat pooled in your core with every second he spent in your space, inhaling the scent of bourbon and sweet sugar cane grass he rode through radiating off him, words just as inviting and addictive.

For a horrifying, well-feared killer, he sure did entice a woman like any natural-born gentleman…

It was a deathly combination you knew he often used, killing or not, and though it'd be wise to avoid his idea, you didn't want to risk missing an opportunity for the thrill.

It'd been so long, too long, and what's the worst that could happen?

Losing to him?

You'd never lost to anyone before, and you were confident that fact wouldn't change -even going up against the Red Reaper himself.

**Cowboy Alastor** relishes when you utter a ‘yes’ to his offer. His grin widens menacingly for a split second as he sets his glass down next to your empty one, conjuring up a meticulously detailed deck of playing cards and placing them on the table.

“You can choose which game we play, sugar…”

Alastor shifts away from you, letting you regain your composure and watching as your delicate fingers reach for the top card of the deck.

“Poker. A favorite of mine..” You didn't think twice before answering him, admiring the red and black ace in your hand, wondering where he acquired such personalized playing cards.

“Poker it is then, chere,” he smirks wickedly, removing his hat entirely to set it on the table before gingerly plucking the card from your hold and sliding to sit opposite you while dishing out equal amounts of cards between you.

Your eyes light up under the oil lamp's golden hue, studying the flick of his hands as he worked, trying hard not to wander up to his piercing gaze. Afraid he'd immediately see your attraction to his nimble hands, well to him in general, and use it against you somehow, so your focus remains on the hand dealt and not him.

As you both plucked your respective set from the table, studying the cards intently, you asked the singular most crucial question every poker match was built on.

“What will the bets be,” Your innocent inquiry earns sultry laughter from him, filling the air, raising feverish chills on your skin as he stares at you through half-lidded eyes.

“I prefer bargains of the soul, my dear. The use and price of one's existence is always more valuable than money, don't you agree?”

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A/N: Don't be mad AT ME, GUYS, PLEASE. I HAD EXAMS LAST WEEK. I'm SORRY FOR DROPPING OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH… sort of, but I'm back now (please do hate me :((( ). Uh, so I might merge “Down in the Dust” with this because both stories kinda originated in my brain at the same time. However, since this is a request, I wrote a two-part tangent smut as a sort of prequel to the other fic! Also, the phrase “Save a horse. Ride a cowboy” will be unironically used…I'm sorry (I'm not lol) ❤️

[ BONUS CONTENT + ] VOLUME WARNING!!! 🗣️

Fun fact: In the South, we have a rule that if you take a cowboy hat and end up wearing it, they catch you with it (preferably in the mutual interest of getting to know each other). That cowboy gets to fuck you (hopefully, but technically you're initiating a flirting game wearing their hat, lol). It's a cute concept and one any Cowboy Alastor enthusiast should think about. ❤️ credits to the creator.

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