#took me about an hour and a half 😅 but i got there eventually

[xlii-60]

Update: Last.Fm Scrobbler!

Hey everyone, just wanted to pop in to share that I made a couple of edits to my desktop theme, mainly to add a real-time last.fm recent plays scrobbler, so you can always check in and see what I've actually been listening to lately!

The code came from here, intended for use on spacehey but still functional here on tumblr!

[juletheghoul]

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. 

-----

Tag list: @frannyzooey @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @ezrasbirdie @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @sherala007 @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @maxwell--lord @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @dihra-vesa @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name @zombiesnips-blog @sarahjkl82-blog @fan-of-encouragement @queenofthecloudss @deadhumourist @felicisimor @sophiefatale2495 @toomanystoriessolittletime @what-iwish-you-knew @pedrostories @athalien @bi-thewayy @literallydontlook @pedrosbrat @gamingaquarius @localddreamers @luxmundee @iamafadedmoon @nakhudanyx @littlemisspascal @grogusmum @recklessworry @heyitmelexie @killyspinacoladas @gothicxbarbie @evildxad @dragonslarimar @spideysimpossiblegirl @chemtrail-mix @maievdenoir @breezythesimp @altarsw @artooies-scream @staygolddindjarin @softsweetedbeauty @littlemisspascal @yuiopiklmn @squidwell @just-blogging-around @bbyanarchist @girlofchaos @maddiedrmr @frasmotic @acourtofsnakes @buckybarneshairpullingkink @astoryisaloveaffair @harriedandharassed @swtaura @send-me-to-valhalla @shirks-all-responsibilities @androah @alwaysachorusgirl @dindjarinsmut @captain-jebi @gallowsjoker @oliviajdjarin @actuallyanita @tusk89 @dadbodfanatic-x @naiomiwinchester @blazedprince @rosymythologies @avidreader73 @mr-underhills-things @avengersfan25 @tastygoldentaters @nyotamalfoy @mymindfuckery @txtattoostark @its-nebuleuse

[andreafmn]

12 Days of Ficmas - Day 5

Prompt (by @12-days-of-ficmas): i hate christmas but you really love it and i feel bad raining on your parade so i guess it wouldn’t kill me to act a little happier

Word Count: 2.7K

Story Description: It's the first Christmas for Lip and (Y/N). He's not used to having the holiday times be a very festive event, but something about being with (Y/N) makes everything better.

Fandom: Shameless

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x NonBinary!Reader

Warnings: foul language

A/N: not precisely day 5, just a few hours after but I am all caught up now. I wanted more details into the story but this is how it flowed out😅

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For You, Anything

It was no secret that the Gallagher gang had a rough life growing up. Holidays weren’t such a thing to celebrate, simply something that happened during the winter whilst they were trying to survive the cold months. Their whole life had been a struggle. It was what they were used to, and what they would probably always have hanging in the back of their heads for the rest of their lives.

It had been two and a half years since Lip had moved out of the family home and had to care for fewer people. A year and three months that he and Tami had amicably gone their separate ways and shared custody of their son Freddie. And a year since he met (Y/N).

His life had drastically changed since they had come into their life. Lip had started the transformation of his life long ago. Though he did have some major lows in his journey, he was ways away from the frightened boy he used to be. One of those lows was breaking things off with Tami. It had been a mutual breakup – they had grown apart. But it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt and he had to go through a transitional period where he didn’t see his son every day and he came home to an empty house every night.

During that transitional period, when Tami and he were still figuring out the best way to divide custody of Freddie, was when he met (Y/N).

They were walking out of a coffee shop as Lip was walking in, on his way to get an order. He bumped into them and ended up spilling their iced coffee all over them, staining their crisp white shirt and their grey pantsuit.

“Fuck,” he said. “I am so sorry. I’d say I would pay for the dry cleaning but that suit looks more expensive than my whole wardrobe.”

“No worries,” they chuckled. “You can make it up to me over dinner. I’m (Y/N).” 

“Lip. Uh, Philip, but you can call me Lip.”

“Well, Lip. Here’s my number. Call me some time,” they said as they handed the man a business card.

It took him a week to call (Y/N). He had put the card on his secondhand fridge, letting it taunt him. He’d felt intimidated as soon as he read the little cardboard. They were an attorney at one of the biggest firms in Chicago. He felt slightly intimidated at the prospect of falling for someone that seemed to have it all together.

Eventually, his curiosity peaked. He wanted to know this person that had taken an interest in him just by only knowing his name. So, he called, and the rest was history.

The pair hit it off right away, finding they had more in common than differences. And although they came from different backgrounds, and lived drastically different lives, and it seemed like there would never be a way for them to ever intermingle, they did.

Lip certainly had never felt this way before. He’d been obsessed with people before; he couldn’t deny that. He was ready to give everything up for Karen; he grew infatuated with Mandy; he had a crazy rendezvous with Amanda which intertwined with the affair he was having with his much older professor Helene; finally, there was Tami, the woman he was ready to change everything for, even if it didn’t work out in the end.

But it was different with (Y/N). The intoxicating adrenaline feeling he normally got when meeting someone new was gone. He felt calm, at peace. There wasn’t the giddy feeling of finding out just how big of a trainwreck the relationship would be. Rather he felt like riding softly on the waves of their relationship.

Their relationship moved quite fast – though for Southside standards it was slow. At the end of their first month, they had already said they loved each other. After four months together, (Y/N) asked him to move in with them – they would spend so much time there that it was almost like he already did. Five months in and they met Freddie.

Now, a year into their relationship they were spending their first Christmas together, and the first Christmas Lip would spend with Freddie since the breakup. But he had never been a holiday person. He never had the luxury to be one. Not even when his kid had been born did he celebrate it well – according to Tami’s family.

On the other hand, (Y/N) was a Christmas fanatic. And when they heard that Freddie would be spending those holidays at their place, they decided to go all out.

“Okay,” they said as they joined Lip on the couch one night a week before Freddie got there. “I made a list of all the things I think will make this an unforgettable Christmas for Fred. And before you say anything, I know he’s only four years old and he probably won’t remember much of it, but I still wanna make this amazing.”

“Alright,” Lip chuckled. “Let me have it.”

“So, I know this week you still have two finals this week, so I kept it light. Mainly stuff at home,” (Y/N) started. “I was thinking we could a gingerbread house, make letters to Santa, watch Christmas classics, and bake some cookies. That way you can study during his downtime. What do you think?”

Lip couldn’t help but smile at his partner. Before them, every time the holidays came around he couldn’t help the anger that washed over him. Whilst other families had the ability to give their families happy memories to hold onto, all he could remember was having to help his family pass the winter without dying of the cold or hunger. It was something he never wanted his own son to go through. And with (Y/N) he knew it was possible.

Since they loved Christmas so much, he decided he would try his best to enjoy the holiday for the sake of his partner and his son.

“Sounds like a perfect plan,” he replied. His hands cradled their face, placing a soft kiss on their lips, a glimmer of adoration in his eyes.

“What?” (Y/N) chuckled as they noticed Lip kept staring at them.

“I’m just so fucking grateful to have met you, baby,” he said. “A year ago I never thought my life would look this way. I mean, somehow I’m back in school; I have a healthy and happy son; I’ve been two years – and counting – sober; and I have the most amazing life partner with me.”

Tears started welling up in his eyes as he recalled how his life was changing. He wanted to be the person they knew he could be. (Y/N) had helped him make a life plan and taught him that it was okay if he had to improvise some things along the way. They helped him get back into school, where he would get an advanced masters. At least that’s what he hoped. Because he wanted to change. (Y/N) made him want to change. Regardless of who he left behind.

“This is the first time I don’t feel guilty for making a better life for myself,” he continued. “The first time I don’t have to worry where my siblings will rest their heads or if they have enough food to get them through the winter or worry I’ll find my father passed out in an alley freezing. You’ve given me the time and space I’ve needed to allow myself to leave the southside behind.

People always told me that just because I was from the southside it didn’t mean I was supposed to stay there. And I always blew them off because I always found a way to screw things up and stay there. That’s when people always leave. But you haven’t. You know everything I’ve done, all the skeletons in my closet, and yet you still chose to be with me.

I truly don’t know what I did to deserve you, (Y/N). But you make me want to be a better person every day of my life. Because I love you, I want to be the person you think I can be.

And I want to enjoy this Christmas. I want to make memories with you and Freddie, even if he won’t remember them. Cause I fucking will. And I want pictures with Santa and to go ice skating, and to open presents on Christmas morning. Because we deserve it.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t help but wrap their arms around his neck, kissing him once more.

“Lip, I’m the one who’s lucky. You gave my life direction,” they smiled. “Having all this, it meant nothing because I didn’t have someone to share it with. I worked, I came home, ate and slept, and did it all again. Day after day. That was my life. Now, I look forward to coming home because I know there’s someone waiting at home for me.

You and I were raised very differently. I know that. But I’ve known the gut-wrenching feeling of thinking there’s nothing better out there. With you, I know I’ve got better now.

And I know this is simply gonna be the first Christmas of many as a family. So, list or no list, I wanna do whatever you want. Because I love you and want you to have an amazing time.” 

“I think I’ll stick to the list,” he chuckled through teary eyes. “I trust the expert.”

And he did. Because the thing he was mostly looking forward to was the Christmas dinner they had planned with his family, their family, and their friends. The day he would ask (Y/N) if they’d spend the rest of their lives together, making memories to last them a lifetime.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @beckiej0073-blog

[sxtaep]

Hey how did your date with M go? 🥹

EEEEEEK IT WENT SO GOOD 😭😭🩷🩷 we had such a good time.

the day started with me meeting him at the train station, and i was so worried i wouldn’t recognise him 🤣🤣🤣 but i did and he seemed to recognise me straight away because he was smiling the whole time walking up to me 🥹

we hugged and just chatted and we went to a local cafe to get some drinks before heading out.

we went on a half an hour walk through Kensington Park (WHICH IS SO BEAUTIFUL MIGHT I ADD) and we took a bunch of photos together, and videos AND HE WAS LETTING ME HOLD HIS ARM WHILE WE WALKED 😭😭🩷🩷

we made plans to go to the Natural History Museum but the queue was so damn long, we decided to go to the Victoria & Albert Museum which was pretty cool ��

around 4pm we decided to head back to his hotel, and while we were walking, HE SLYLY SLIPPED HIS HAND INTO MINE 😭😭🤣🤣🤣🤣🩷🩷 AND HE ASKED ME IF IT WAS OKAY AND I WAS LIKE YES I WAS WAITING FOR YOU TO DO IT 🤣 and overall it was just very very cute and wholesome, he was cracking jokes and being a cringelord the whole time 🥰

we got back to his hotel, he checked in and we got to his room and we just crashedddd, we were so tired so we both just laid on the bed and watched madagascar 3 on the TV AND IT WAS A FUCKING FUNNY MOVIE TOO 🤣🤣🤣 and the whole time he was playing with my hands and holding them and he had his other hand on my thigh (i was lying on my side facing him) and he was asking if it was ok for him to touch me there and i said yes 🥹

and he continued to stare and he goes “i wanna kiss you” and I GOT SHY 😭 and i told him i’ve never kissed anyone before and he goes “do you want to?” AND I WAS LIKE YES HELLO ???)?

AND YEAH I HAD MY FIRST KISSS 🤭🤭🤭 AND IT WAS VERY GOOD WE WENT IN FOR IT TWO MORE TIMES AND SUDDENLY IT BECAME A MAKEOUT SESSION 🤯

EVENTUALLY…. things got a bit heated and um yeah i … gave him head 😅😅😅

and yeah that was Sunday 😁😁😁

MONDAY, we went to this lego exhibition WHICH WAS SO COOL 🤯

it was great and after the exhibition, we went to the park and he asked if we could sit and talk for a little bit and i was like ok.

we sat on the bench, the weather was really nice and sunny (bit windy but oh well) and he put his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him 😭🩷🩷 and we were talking about how we both had a great time and it sucks that’d he’d have to leave in about two hours 😒 and he goes “i’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while, but i wanted to do it in person.” and i was like oh????

and he’s looking at me and he’s smiling and he goes “i think we should make things official.”

THE WAYYYYY I WAS LIKE 😱 oh my god

I GOT SHY 😭😭😭 i had to look away from him and i was like “YES HELLO? YES IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS”

he started laughing 😭 and we decided we’d make the long distance thing work and he’ll try and come down to london as often as he can and i’ll go up to him whenever i can.

we were running late so decided to get a move on, and just as i was about to get off the bench, he was like “what, no kiss?” i was like damn okay 🤣 so i kissed him and then pulled him off the bench and we went to the station.

his train wasn’t for another hour so we went to a cafe and waited, just yapping, going through photos and the whole time he was holding my hands 😭😭😭😭 it’s the bare minimum i know but it was so unusual for me because obviously never done that before 😭

his train pulled up on the platform so we went down to his platform and it was kinda busy so we waited for the crowd to die down and we said our goodbyes, the usual hug and the kiss and he was reassuring me it won’t be too long till we see each other again and yeah.

overall a very good weekend, i miss him a lot 🙁

also here are the photos from the lego exhibition 😁

[oleander-nin]

So um, sorry if I don’t explain this request very well, I’ve never really used these ask boxes for anything other than silly jokes with my friends… 😅

My request is a platonic ROTTMNT Raph x Yandere adult y/n… He is like a precious bean that y/n must protect at all costs! And they will kill to protect him if it comes down to it. :3

I would like this written in a sorta short-story fanfic format if possible, though the length doesn’t have to be short story if you are unable to do that.

Emphasis on this being platonic, I’m asexual and 18 so this has to be legal please. 💀

A/N, not important: Sorry this took so long. Just a warning to anyone reading this, I don't like Yan Y/n. However, I like you, so I tried my best. I hope I did this justice, but it kind of sucks. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: death, description of blood and washing of blood, dead bodies, gun, fighting, obsessive behavior, yandere themes, Appalachian mountains, kill list, my writing

Words: 824

Summary: You're willing to do anything to keep Raph safe. After all, he's just a dumb kid.

I sigh, the cool water of the stream running over my bloody hands soothed my beaten knuckles and washed the blood from my palms. I rolled my shoulders, fighting the kink in my neck while the stream stained pink before the water dispersed the blood and ran clear once more. I cup the water in my hands, rubbing it up my arm and neck. I needed a proper shower, but this would work until I could get back home. I couldn’t exactly drive while my hands were bloody, I didn’t want to ruin the interior of my car. Plus, I would need to clean out my car to get rid of the stains it would leave, and that’s just annoying. I shift my legs, standing up as I flick off as much water as I can from my arms and hands. Carefully stepping over the hippo’s body, I wipe my wet hands on my pants. I grabbed my bag from where it sat next to a tree, shoving the small handgun I had discarded next to the bag into it.

I pick up the bag and sling it over my shoulder, navigating through the thick of the woods to return to the trail. I couldn’t believe I actually convinced the magician to follow me all the way out to the Appalachian trail, but I guessed right. That worm was the perfect bait. I start the hike back down the trail, checking the time on my phone as I sip at my water bottle. It was a really nice day, slightly cloudy and a nice breeze blowing every once in a while. I pull up the list on my phone, crossing off two more names. I continue down to the trail, using the compass to help find my way back to the main trail. 

It takes about ten minutes to get back to the trail, and once it’s visible, I start the half hour trek back to the parking lot, keeping off the trail and in the tree line so other visitors wouldn’t be able to see me well. I knew the blood on my shirt and pants was still visible, and having the cops called on me would be less than ideal. So tree line hiking it is. I shift my bag on my shoulders, trying to ignore the ache of my shoulders. That stupid hippo got me good when he threw one of his dumb rings at me, and I couldn’t help but wince every time my shirt rubbed against the wound. 

The sun was starting to set, a warm pink glow mixing into the sky and more shadows settled in the tree line. The extra cover was nice, but I hated the thought of being out on the trail when it was dark. I eventually see the parking lot in the distance, and I slide down the steep incline and run to my car, trying to keep out of sight. I unlock the car, wincing at the small beep it makes. I slide into the driver seat with a hiss, setting my bag in the passenger seat. My fingers dance across the steering wheel, my mind still reeling. I knew it was necessary, but my guilt finally started to hit me. I shake my head, chasing away the thoughts. It was necessary, I needed to keep Raph safe. He and his brothers were in danger, and they refused to stop their stupid crime fighting. 

If Raph wanted to be a hero, that was fine. He was a great kid, an amazing one even, but that was the problem. He was only a kid, barely older than 15. I start the engine, my face hardening as I back out and make my way out of the parking lot. My phone dings, a text from Raph coming in. I couldn’t look at the text while on the road, but I already knew what it contained. He and his brothers went on a patrol before I left. If he’s only sending me his completion text now, almost 2 and a half hours after they left, something must have gone wrong. Raph and his brother got into another fight, and more scars must’ve been added to Raph’s growing collection.

 My grip on the steering wheel tightens, my mouth pressed into a thin line. I mentally went over my list, thinking about which of Raph’s collective enemies to go after next. If Raph wanted to play hero, I would let him. But I drew the line when he got hurt. I needed to keep Raph safe, no matter what. He was only a teenager, barely allowed to be on his own. I turn on the radio, a small ad for a certain mantis’ junkyard sounding through the speakers.

I turn off the highway, heading down a different stretch. It was fine. I could make another stop before going home. I had a goal to complete after all.

[because-its-eurovision]

I did not forget that I was supposed to write some kind of concert report thingy @another-sun asked for, but I've just been so overwhelmed

anyway, here are some of the things I can remember from seeing Blind Channel's secret show with @thisisntaparty who I now own my life to 🖤

- the tickets stated that you are not allowed to camp out in front of Tavastia, so we were there maybe one hour before the doors were supposed to open and there was only ten or twelve people before us

- at the door they checked our ids and took signed NDAs that we wouldn't record during Flatline

- there were free water bottles and soda cans available, they also sold merch and I got the new Flatline shirt after the show, no other new merch items

- we just. walked. to the stage. no fence. nothing. like literally Olli's platform was maybe 20 cm in front of us (already started to lose our minds because they would be SO CLOSE to us) 😶😶

- Santeri came to stage and reminded us of the not filming part, and told us that the gig would last around 30 mins

- thisisntaparty was checking her phone and we were wondering if the show would start in half an hour and AT THE SAME MOMENT the intro started playing and Tommi stepped on stage, and then Aleksi and Joonas and Olli RIGHT IN FRONT OF US and then Niko & Joel and I just started screaming and screeching so hard I had to press both palms in front of my mouth to muffle it because it was just too much 😭😭

- they played Over My Dead Body, We Are No Saints, Balboa, Bad Idea, Flatline and Dark Side, in that order

- all of them wore the Flatline promo clothes which I loved because I'm so used to seeing them in same black stage clothes. special shout out Joonas's shiny overalls and Olli's boots ✨️

- I was headbanging ridiculously hard during the first two songs, OMDB still has that great EDM drop with all of them dancing and spinning around the stage and WANS is just SO good and epic live and I love it aaaarrrrrrrr 🖤🖤🖤

- at some point we were just grabbing each other for support because everything felt so overwhelming 🥹

- Olli & Joonas switched places more often than I think they usually do so we got great uhhh close-ups of them both

- almost got hit in the head multiple times by the bass neck because Olli still doesn't know how to handle his instrument responsibly 😅

- Balboa works live like a charm but of course we all knew that, and everyone around me was singing to Bad Idea from the bottom of their lungs, and I'm getting welled up right now because that song has meant SO MUCH to me and made me feel less alone during the last year and just hearing the crowd singing in unison there's darkness and it follows me --ok moving on before I'll start crying again

- I was asked to hide all spoilers and opinions about Flatline, so those are under the read more 👇

- Joel called Dark Side an "old classic" that they "have to play so they won't forget it" 🖤

- when the show was over Joel started giving fistbumps to the first row and at first he couldn't reach us because we were too far, but then he climbed on the platform and gave thisisntaparty a triplebump as if to apologise 😄 and I got one too 🥰 and Joonas gave us highfives as well and I still can't believe they are real people and I saw them up close and touched them and are we still sure that wasn't just a dream or some kind of croup hallucination 🥲

Disclaimer: I heard the live version, wasn't wearing any earplugs so the sound wasn't very clear, and I was also out of my mind 🥲

the beginning/intro is the English version of what Käärijä read from the card in his ig story. it's like an infomercial sales pitch: are you tired of ups and downs, do you feel like you can separate music from your thoughts? or something along those lines. my guess is that it won't be a part of the actual song, but rather a separate intro they are going to use in shows and eventually it will end up on the album, similarly to National Heroes/We Are No Saints. I like it, it's funny.

we've heard the chorus in the preview clips, and melodically it's the part I can remember. as in many other BC songs and especially singles, the chorus is the catchiest part and repeats three times growing bigger and getting more massive sound every time (think Dark Side, Bad Idea, Over My Dead Body, WANS, you get the idea). most of their songs use the same structure and why fix it if it ain't broken.

there are also three or four instrumental parts, one right at the beginning, when they do the stupid boyband dance move <3

Joel said on stage that he was very nervous before the song, and they've said that their music style is changing, but for me it didn't sound that different to their earlier stuff. compared to BB or VP LotSaD has much more variety and experimentation of different styles and sounds, even genres (like Don't Fix Me vs Autopsy or Bad Idea vs Glory For the Greedy), and in my opinion Flatline wouldn't have been the odd one out if it was on their fourth album.

it does sound bigger, heavier, more massive, yes, but otherwise it's a very standard BC single, compared to for example We Are No Saints which has the epic choir and guitar solo we don't have in ANY of their other songs. but of course I neither can remember everything that happened in the song nor did I hear all the nuances and instruments in the live performance, so take everything I say with a grain of salt.

I'm in love of the lyrics and the guitar riff and can't wait to hear to studio version on Friday 🖤

[carlos-tk]

nice ask week

hi D! it's nice ask week! What made you start watching LS and what was it about the show that made you spiral into fandom?

Hi Rae! Thanks for the question! 💗 Apologies for how long this took me to answer. Work took over my life this week 😢 Now buckle in for a stupidly long story 😅

Firstly, I had watched the original 911s first and half of its 2nd season whenever they aired (2018/19 thanks Wikipedia) and then totally forgot all about it because again #life 😅 I did hear about a spin off whenever they announced it but I guess the only info was that it was coming soon. Wikipedia is helping out and it seems it was May 2019. I didn’t really pay it much mind because by then I had already stopped watching the og.

So I move on with my life and don’t think about either series until September 2022. I saw a youtube clip of a scene: the throwing each other against the wall hookup from 1x02. I watched it and I was like.. OH?!👀🔥🥵 Saved it to my YouTube watch later and again forgot all about it because back then I was doing full time shift work and had no time to breathe let alone watch anything new 😂 (kicking myself because I could’ve been here a year ago) 😭

Cut to this year. I can give you an exact date i rediscovered 911 verse. May 17th 2023!! 🥳 All because of the Tarlos wedding.

Twitter is probably the platform I use the most cos it’s got all my sports content😅 Anyway I happened to be on the discover/trending tab and one of the top hashtags was #TarlosWedding which was airing that day. I clicked it to investigate and scrolled through. It was full of pics and fanvids of the wedding and again I was like OH 👁👁. I liked a bunch of the tweets to revisit and moved on with my day. A few days later because I had liked all that stuff, Twitter keeps recommending me more content. So I find myself back on YouTube and watched these:

and then a series of random scenes and I was like... okay I need full context for all of this. Another month passes and it’s probably end of June/early July and I’m like let me see if this is available anywhere to watch in Australia. I find it on Disney+ and they have seasons 1-3. This is finally when I watched the show. And then I could not stop thinking about it. S4 is no where to be found though. So I google and see it’s halfway through airing on Channel 7 here which means it won’t be uploaded to Disney+ for a while. So then I’m like UGH 😒😩😤 I wanted to binge the whole season like I had for the others. I kept tabs on when it would finish airing on TV and eventually the finale airs August 14th. The next day I start it and binge the whole season on 7Plus over a few days.

Now that I had seen their entire story so far, I was full blown hyper fixating. Like they’re on my mind ALL the time. I’m reading a book or watching a movie/show and thinking about Tarlos in place of the characters. I’m listening to a song or reading a poem/lyric and being like oh that’s so Tarlos coded😂😂 At this point i’m like oh no 😅😅 The fandom life is coming for me.

Then the biggest surprise of all I start getting the urge to write fanfic again! Which is insane because I had not written anything in (redacted) years. Like nearly every time as I was about to sleep, I start having ideas and rambling it out in my notes app at stupid hours like 2am 😂😅

Next we have the writers/actors strike and I’m like 👀trust me to find a new obsession and everyone is on strike and I’m gonna get nothing new for ages. Then I remember AO3 is a thing that exists and find my way to the 911 Lone Star tag and start reading fic again. Any spare moment I had I was itching to read whatever I could get my eyeballs on. I said to you the other day that I read your gym!AU first and look I might’ve read a random 1k word one shot or two but nothing I can actually remember like yours 😂🥵 I think the added pictures and texts made it so memorable because 1. I did not know you could do that on AO3 2. Rafael is like the hottest guy I’ve ever seen 😅😅 and 3. It was just so damn good 🥵 Sm*t with feelings and I am there. You teased the feelings a little and if/when (no pressure btw) you decide to revisit this universe just know I’ll be first in line 🙋🏼‍♀️ and the reason I can recall it as the first is it’s the oldest AO3 tab saved to my safari reading list 😅

By this point I’m reading fic through the end of August and September constantly. A few I read had peoples Tumblr links in the end notes so then I remember that Tumblr also exists 😂 I come over and lurk, explore the tags, look at all the beautiful gifs, look at a few peoples blogs and make a mental note to maybe join Tumblr again. I had 2 blogs back in hs, 1 fandom specific blog that got abandoned during my last year of hs and a sports/tv-series one I used a little in the years after hs but then again #life and I didn’t touch it after like 2016.

Come September 2023. I made a new email, signed up to Tumblr again, and requested an AO3 invite. Learning how to use this site again was wild because so much had changed since I last used it. I saw something about getting mistaken for bots so I spent a little time making the blog look nice and like an actual person exists before I bothered to follow anyone or any tags. October rolls around and I finally start using it every day and now I’m here with all of y’all 💗

Sorry for the extremely long story and again sorry for how long it took 😅😅

[robinruns]

Ok quick Dunes Day update

...just kidding this got fucking long, so it's going under a cut

Got to the hotel a bit before 3, had to wait to check in, but that wasn't a big deal. Got over to The Rave and there was a line but it wasn't bad. I asked and it was not separated by VIP/non-VIP so I just sat down on the blacktop like everyone else and roasted for about two hours.

I had paid for parking and around 5 pm a guy came out and was like "Hey, if you're parked here, come get a pass or we'll tow you." So I had to go to my car, get my ticket, get a pass and he made me move my car so there would be more room. (Spoiler alert: when I left the lot wasn't even half full)

There was some back and forth with whether or not the VIP line was lining up at the front of the building, or if they would come and get us. They did come to get us a bit after 5:30 and then we went inside and lined up. I think I was about the 10th person in line. I shoulda known how bad it was gonna be when I was standing inside and it was just as hot as outside, just without the sun.

We finally get let into this smaller side bar and I was like oh ok, this is where the Q&A is, then we'll go into the larger room for the show. Then I realized the drum kits were set up there. No this was it. This tiny tiny space was it. Well fine ok. I had made friends with the two people behind me in line and they were super nice, and we got to talking to a couple in front of us as well. We quickly realized this show was basically a mini-Pride event 😄 it felt really cool to just be like "oh yea, I'm NB" and it was just... yea 🤷🏻‍♀️ no big deal!

The Q&A was fun. One of my line friends was like "What's your favorite horror movie?" And Frank was trying to take off his sweatshirt and he gets the mic and is like "just now when I was stuck in my sweatshirt" 🤣 Anthony talked about being 12 and huffing and accidentally burning down his friend's garage. At this point I now consider IASIP to be a documentary and Anthony was the inspiration for Charlie and/or Mac lol

Q&A ended, the assistant who was running it handed out the waters on stage that the guys didn't take and I got Tucker's extra La Croix. It was grapefruit 😄

Pinkshift came out and absolutely ripped it the fuck up, like holy shit they were great. Highly recommend checking them out! A person did pass out a little bit back from me, and the band was good about stopping right away and everyone was calling for security, but it felt like it took forever to get anyone to come around for them and get them off the floor. It was so fucking hot, like it was insane. I'm surprised more people didn't pass out honestly.

Then Dunes came on and it was fucking rad. Anthony was giving high fives and like taking peoples' hands and he totally held my hand for a moment, a long moment! And it was magical 😄 They fucking tore it up, and at the end of the first song I made eye contact with Travis and was like "🤘🏻 yea!" And he grinned back, it was great!

That reminds me, I think Coheed is coming to the Sylvee again for the 100th time, maybe I'll go because I'm done with the Rave I think.

The crowd was nuts, they were pushing really bad from the back and I eventually had to dip out. I was afraid I was gonna pass out if I stayed in there with how hot it was plus all the pushing. Would have been good if there was any sort of security keeping people back, but again, they were MIA. So I went around to the bar off to the side to get a water and there was a giant industrial fan blowing. The vibe was so much more chill and I was like "am I old? Is this it?" But honestly I didn't care. I leisurely went to the bathroom, grabbed merch, and just enjoyed the music.

I'm pretty sure this means I'm old 😅 oh well, I don't mind!

I left right at the end and grabbed a brat from a street vendor. It was amazing and honestly I needed it so bad. I had a water in my car so I slammed that as well. It sucks when you go to shows alone and you can't pop around the corner to McDonalds while you wait to get some fries and a soda and take a pee break. Like you just have to wait and wait and wait and hope someone around you is chill to hold your spot. It's sorta a bummer honestly.

Getting back to the hotel was a bit of a headache, mainly because of traffic from the Brewer game letting out. But as soon as I got back I got into my room, got a shower, and now I'm in bed. I have a full day planned for tomorrow, including stopping at Target, stopping at the running store, finding a post office, and getting a manicure. And then going home and getting prepared for the rest of my week.

Ok that was a lot longer than I originally intended, but oh well

[secretgarden02]

IDV story

Hey, it's been a while I posted in here lol. I been busy on college stuff and recently IDV has just added a copycat mode (it's basically among us with bunch of roles for each person like among us new update). Gotta say that it's very fun so far :D I used to play among us few times so it didn't take me that long to get used to the whole mechanic

Sadly I didn't get to record this particular match, but this one is very fun despite the match lasted half hour lol. I didn't expect to be a copycat (the killer) and what do you know, the Kokichi player is also my comrade! It's even funnier that my friend joined along in crossover as Kyoko and another stranger joined as Makoto

Long ramble alert to how it goes: (I might draw this scenario in future)

So some fun story- I almost got voted out in the first meeting since I happen to kill the person that basically announce the emergency meeting immediately when someone kills them. I tried to stay calm and describe that I found the body when the light was out (I was the one that turned off the light). Makoto happen to bypass me earlier when I was about to kill, so Makoto then figure out immediately that I self-reported. Kokichi and Kyoko backed me up and I accused back that Makoto might be the 'copycat' since he just happen to left the room the body was in. No one believed him and believed me instead LMAO

In next meeting, sadly Kokichi got killed by Makoto (Makoto have the role 'hunter' (a detective role) where he's able to kill anyone with no consequences, and he happen to kill Kokichi who is a 'copycat'). The black Orpheus (number 2) found the body and then Makoto said that he's the hunter and he killed Kokichi because he's the copycat. I saw that as an opportunity to vote him out because people was already suspicious of him since the first murder and I have my own alibi with me been staying near bunch other people. And what do you know, he get voted out :D (sorry Makoto LOL)

This is where the pressure start to set in. I always hate getting a killer role because I genuinely have no idea what to do 😂😂 it took me about 10 minutes to kill a person (managed to kill number 2) and goes undetected while blending with bunch of people. The green orpheus (number 7) found the body and during the discussion, they almost accused me until the orpheus defended me because I been staying with him most of the time (I'm using the strategy where I use him for my alibi shield). During meeting, we ended up voting out Yusuke (number 5) since he was seen leaving the crime scene by Kyoko. What do you know? I happen to get lucky for managed to vote him out because if I have to kill him, he might be able to kill me back (he's a 'boxer' role and he have the ability to defend himself)

Managed to get away unscathed and again, the less people in the group, the more harder to kill someone undetected so when there's only 4 people left (including me), I was stressing SHDFKJS- tho my friend (Kyoko) eventually called emergency meeting because they were getting suspicious of either green Orpheus or the coordinator (I don't know the character collab skin she's wearing lol, but she's number 10 is what I'm referring). We eventually do random vote and when green Orpheus said he's going to vote out number 10, I take that advantage and voted her so she got voted out LOL (thanks m8).

3 person left. Kyoko suggested that we stay together until the emergency meeting can be used when we're in vc, but well- I killed them afterwards and won :P sorry friend LMAO (they were feeling betrayed lol) funny thing is that they almost won too if I misplaced my vote on them in previous meeting because they have the 'fool' role (basically just get voted out from the group and they won the game, they're in neutral side)

It's just very funny to imagine this whole thing with DR character since we're wearing DR skins and Shuichi being a silent killer is.... something you would not expect 😅 even managed to kill Kyoko as well and win is quite the feat

[barefoot-sunrise]

We had so much fun this weekend! Vi and me went for this hike, which would always be a good time, but this one especially. Of course the drive and brunch and just being around each other was always going to be purely delightful, but not as much as what we found.

It was a lake. Pretty big: the path around it took maybe a half hour, but mostly because of the hills. We wandered plenty from it though, both to frolic, and also to dry off 😅

I remember Vi saying, "I didn't know we were swimming today!" She's so cute about that kind of stuff. She was right though; as soon as we saw it, I think we knew before we even said anything: I've gotta get in that.

The water was super calm. There wasn't much level ground where we first saw it, but we walked around to a bit where there was a little gravelly beach, if you can call it that.

So we took off what we could, and left what we couldn't to soak... it was just so obviously worth it. For V, that was easy. She had on little volleyball shorts, and a bandeau under her cami. I had few easy steps before I hit what would be immodesty with any other company; I had stuck with the shorts I packed before I knew we were gonna get sweaty, and a really cute, super soft crop top that totally worked without a bra, especially for me. Besides panties, socks, and shoes, that's it. V had a little bag and our water. Travelling light until we worked our way back to the car-- tragically, we didn't pack camping stuff.

We were kinda just giggling as we both sat on the rocks and untied our shoes and peeled off socks. Vi just had to take off her shirt and ran right in. I worked off my belt and shorts, and considered losing the shirt, but we weren't sure if we would see anyone else. I elected to keep the top-- it would dry eventually.

The water was kinda cold, but it was perfect with the almost-noon, summer sunlight. She was quicker to dive under that me, but eventually I got my hair wet. Can't wait to go back.

(thanks for respecting me my girl's privacy loves ❤️🧡💛)

[hellsingmongrel]

Alright! Supplies came in, and text block GET!

I've sewn all the pages together, and will now let it sit in the press for a day to really teach those pages who's boss! I don't have a sewing frame this large, just a miniature one for making doll books (eventually, but I need to buy appropriately thin paper for that, first) so I had to hold the registers together with a couple binder clips. I'd love to have more equipment, but I've only really started teaching myself this as a hobby, so I can't really justify spending hundreds of dollars on something like that right now. Maybe if and when I start selling my work.

The press I'm using now is a cheap one I was shocked to find on amazon! I guess enough people took up book binding during the pandemic that it made finding these things easier than it was when first found the carpenter who made my mini frame a couple years ago for what was, at the time, a shockingly low price at somewhere just under $100! I didn't NEED this, I could have just squished the text block under some cutting boards weighed down by bricks, but it was under $20, and I figured it was worth a shot for a simple little goofy project I was doing just for myself for shits and giggles.

This is the cover cloth I'm going to use, and the headbands I chose out of a variety bundle I got.

The cloth could probably be thicker, but I didn't buy from a professional binding store, so I'm not too fussed about it. And I don't really feel like taking the time to teach myself how to weave headbands on my own right now, so mass produced ones it is. 😅 I might have gotten more done today, but when the press came in, the bore holes in the boards were jusy BARELY off from each other, and since we just moved, I couldn't find our drill to widen them to fit. So I spent a couple hours with sanding drill bits, trying to widen the holes manually, getting frustrated that the drill bits were just slightly too wide to go all the way through without me spending hours working by hand, and then finding my half-round jewlers diamond file in my tool drawer later. HUZZAH! Literally 30 seconds of filing around one of the holes later, and BAM! The press went together like a dream!

Tomorrow, I'll probably get to gluing the mesh onto the spine, while I'm sitting and taking calls during my shift at work. WFM on the overnight shift doing call center work is honestly GREAT for my personal time!

Also need to find my utility knife for the chip board for the covers. >_> Istg, the new house is nice, but not knowing where exactly we decided to put everything once we unpacked stuff has been So. Frustrating. And I really need go get a paper guillotine. I wanted to trim the edges of these pages, but doing it with my paper knife was a nightmare, so I nixed that idea until I can get one. Ah well. Next time.

Soooo...I read a fanfic a little bit ago that really hit me in the feels HARD, and I wanted to bind it into a physical book, because bookbinding is another of my hobbies. I mentioned wanting to do that in the comments, and the author seemed excited about the idea, so now that I've gone to the effort of formatting it for binding and printing it off and begun the folding process, I figured I'd post here so I could show them that I'm actually starting this thing! 😆

For those who are curious what fic I'm going to dumb lengths about, it's Lobito by Walfs.

Here's the pages - over 300 of them, after I added some page breaks and a title page and things like that so that the registers would be even. I'm going to give it a red cloth cover, for obvious reasons, and I've got some end papers I'm going to use, though I'm not sure which ones. They're also oooold, and probably not meant for end papers, but they're handmafe artist papers, so that's what I'm using for them.

ETA: Welp. Trying to trim the page margins without a guillotine was a nightmare, so I decided to remove the margins and just reprint it all. 😆 It brought it down to just under 200 pages, but hey, that works for me, too. I'd just rather refold 49 sheets of paper than deal with the jagged edges I created, trying to trim it to size.

[fandomout]

Ya know how the Gallaghers have a piano in their house? Could you please write a request where Gallagher sister oc/reader taught herself to play piano over the years and eventually gets into the Chicago Symphony Orchestra? Thank you✌️

Hi! Sorry this took so long. Life decided to hit hard. 😅 I didn't have enough inspiration in me because of some health issues, and I didn't want to post this until it was ready. I wasn't going to half-effort this. Hope you enjoy it. Again sorry it took so long. I appreciate all requests and all comments, so this is no different. I want to thank you for the requests.

As for others who have sent me requests, I will be working on those as well. They will go out. I can't say for sure when. However, I'm getting back into the grove of things. Just something to know, I will be doing them in the order I get them in. Got some Carl, Lip, and The Boys requests on the way, so stay tuned!

Sister Gallagher Reader-Playing the Chicago Synphony

Her nerves were wracking as the seconds kept ticking by. She was going to be called up soon. She’d be performing her solo piano piece. She’d gone through it, but her nerves were the last test. Her heart jumped out of Her chest as she slowly peered out of the curtain to see the large crowd. This was the moment she’d been waiting for. 

Soon after those in the house either parties or fought, she was quick to marvel at the lonely piano in the house. 

Slowly, as she grew, she grew a bigger and bigger desire to play the piano. She'd sit at the piano and try every key; however, with school, she was quick to pay attention in music class and ask her questions. Although she didn’t have instruments there, she still did her best to retain any information she could. 

When she got a phone, she used it to learn even more. From then on, she began her lessons. Day in and day out learning whenever she was free, especially at night. It was her favorite time to play. The silence of the house filled with music instead of curses and drunken screams. 

Once she'd mastered the notes and basics. she'd upped the ante to practicing more difficult songs to play and mastering those. One day, she came across a beautiful piece of music and watched as the piano player’s hands moved with the music. Then, an applause rang out. She was wondering why the video and editing was so high quality. Then, she realized she wanted to create her own music. That night, she realized her dream. She wanted to play like that player did. She wanted her efforts to show for it. She wanted to play in the Chicago symphony. 

It was a dream she never specifically mentioned, but all her siblings could see how dedicated she was about playing the piano. 

When she were older, her phone helped her slowly learn different songs. Soon, she was making her own pieces. Then, when she had the chance to play at an event or school she took it. Music became her life after realizing she could actually do it.

She worked hard, which led to her getting an audition for the symphony. She was a finalist. She never imagined in her wildest dreams to have accomplished it that far; however, now that she was there. Those hours and seconds mattered to everything she’d been working for. She had about a week to practice until the actual event. She would practice as usual as much as possible. However, her siblings looked to her with worry as there was something called too much practice. She began to mess up the keys. Her mind was turning to mush. 

Her siblings came to check on her and told her to pull away, but she wouldn’t listen at first.

It was three days before opening night, and she banged her head on the keys in frustration. Fiona’s voice rang out, and she asked, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Maybe you guys were right…I should take a break…” 

“You think. I mean right now it’s almost midnight. Everyone's about to head to bed, and I don’t even think I remember seeing you eat today.” Lip strides down the stairs, and he comments, “That’s because they didn’t.” Fiona gives you a look and states, “I’ll make you something.” 

She glared at Lip,and he responds with a smile and says, “Don’t worry, Fiona, I’ll force feed them if I have to.” She hit his shoulder with a hard smack. He looks to her before lifting her up over his shoulder as best he could to get her over to the couch. 

She yelled, “Fuck off!” 

He plops her on the couch and responds, “I’m just getting you away from the piano. Swear you’ve been in the same spot for days. Mold is gonna start. I'm saving you the trouble.” 

Ian comes from the front door and overhears a bit as he asks, “We have mold again? Where?” 

She huffed and leaned roughly back onto the couch, There is no mold!” 

She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Suddenly, She felt less irritable even the calmest she’d been in the time she’d started preparing. 

Fiona comes by with a full plate. When the smell hits her nose, her eyes are quick to open. It wakes her back up, and she begins commenting to Lip, ”Okay maybe you were-” 

The comment doesn’t go far as Lip shoves food into her mouth. Aggression was going to be the first reaction; however, her stomach and taste buds were happy, so she began to gobble down the food and water in front of her. Nothing took her attention away. 

Ian pats at her head and smiles before saying, “Finally, she takes a break. I’m glad you guys did something because this was getting ridiculous. I was almost gonna lose sleep over this.” 

Her three siblings were looking at her in adoration as she ate heartedly. As she finished, she smiled at them individually before her face fell, and she uttered, “Thanks guys, and I’m sorry…If I’ve been-” 

Ian puts a hand to her shoulder and says, “No need for that.”

Lip adding, “You’ve been a pain but it’s okay…I guess.”

Fiona laughs and adds, “What’s family for?” She nods and smile wider feeling at ease. She's about to stand when Ian pushes her right back down with his hand, and he asks, “Where are you going?”

“I’ve had my break. It-”

Lip scoffs and says, “You don’t learn do you.“

“Well-”

“Rest. You know your music.”

Fiona adds, “No one worked harder at something they have a knack for. We all believe in you, so just rest.“ She looks at Ian, and he comments, “We’ll be there on opening night to cheer you, louder than anyone else. We all know that for a fact.“ She nods and heads to bed. She ended up sleeping for a day and half. Then, everyone was really great about helping find her something to wear because she’d completely forgotten about it. 

Back to the moment of truth, her eyes land on her family all in the front row. They give smiles, waves, and thumbs ups. She remembers the encouragement of her siblings and take a breath. She closed the curtain and closed her eyes for a second.

They announce her name. When her eyes opened again, she made her way to the piano. She focused on the keys in front of her.

The cheers that fill her ears being none other than her family. She gestures for them to calm; however, they’ll never know how grateful she was for their support. Quickly, she lost yourself in her song and played until the end flawlessly. She'd done it. 

She stood up and looked at the crowd. This time not only her siblings cheered but everyone else.

Hope your day got better

Full Masterlist

Shameless Masterlist

[ravenrune]

any headcanons for carlos with a s/o that gets hurt because of him (not killed though), either by someone from his line of work or just because he was distracted/busy? angst gets me going, i'm sorry.

I love this! No apologies needed, it gets me going too. I fear I got carried away really badly. This is a long one, it could've been written as a fanfic. 😅 Warnings: Implied violence. Hospitals. Bit of angst? Word count: Around 1300. Oops.

● Carlos was shocked when he received a phone call from the hospital. They told him you'd been severely injured by getting stabbed in your lower abdominal area while walking down the street that night. They'd found his number in your phone and decided to call him based on the text messages you'd been sending each other.

● It took him several minutes to regain his composure and calm down enough to actually do anything. With trembling hands, he'd tried to unlock the door to his car, but it took him a while as he kept on dropping his keys.

● He immediately rushed to the hospital, not paying very close attention to his speedometer, or even oncoming traffic. It was kind of a miracle he arrived in one piece.

● At the reception, he found himself fumbling for the right words, and it took him a while to even pronounce your name the correct way. The receptionist was very patient, however, and they gently told him to take a deep breath and to slow down a little bit.

● Once they knew what Carlos had come to the hospital for, a nurse was called to come pick him up from the reception desk. He gently led Carlos to a quiet waiting room, where he told the other man about was currently going on. You'd come in just an hour ago, and you'd gone into surgery straight away. Sadly, he couldn't tell Carlos exactly how bad your injuries were or how long surgery would take.

● The nurse made sure Carlos had access to something to drink and something to eat and told him to try and relax. He reassured the other man that you were in good hands.

● As Carlos waited, he couldn't stop thinking about who could've stabbed you and why. He wondered if it had had something to do with him, but he had a hard time coming up with someone who was out to get him. He didn't work as a mercenary very often anymore, and he always made certain to keep his personal life to himself.

● After about an hour and a half, a trauma surgeon showed up to talk to Carlos. She told him about the injuries you'd sustained, and how she'd tried to patch you up to the best of her abilities. She also informed him you weren't completely out of the woods yet, as you'd lost a lot of blood and complications could still arise. That said, the surgery had gone well, but you'd definitely need a lot of time to recover.

● As soon as you were out of recovery, Carlos was allowed to go see you. His heart broke into a million pieces when he saw you lying in the hospital bed, surrounded by machines and wires, and with some tubes sticking out of body. He was relieved to see you were breathing on your own, though, because he didn't think he would've been able to handle seeing you intubated and in an artificial coma.

● He spent the entire night sitting next to you, gently caressing your hand and softly whispering things about how you just needed to hang in there, about and how he couldn't do without you anymore. And he couldn't stop saying how sorry he was he hadn't picked you up from work, because he'd been out with some friends.

● Eventually he fell asleep in his chair, his arms leaning on your bed and his head resting on his arms. He never let go of your hand, even while sleeping. The nurses that came to check on you did their work very quietly, allowing Carlos to get some much needed rest.

● The next morning, he woke up to the sound of someone calling his name. For a moment he didn't remember where he was, but then it hit him like a ton of bricks. Instantly fully awake, he looked up to check on you and found himself staring into a pair of tired and confused eyes.

● "Oh baby..." For the first time since the phonecall, Carlos had to fight back tears. He felt as though all of his emotions were trying to come out at once. He quickly stood up from his chair, ignoring the pain in his legs and his back, and leaned over you. "How are you feeling baby?" He asked, softly placing his hand on your cheek.

● You were in pain, but it was manageable because of the pain killers you'd been given throughout the course of the night. You tried to explain what had happened, but you only remembered a couple of words that had been said before you were stabbed. Betrayal, Umbrella, mercenaries and something about cash. "I'm sorry, Carlos, I don't remember anything else..."

● "That's fine, bebê, save your strength..." Carlos reassured you that everything was going to be okay and apologised profusely for having put you through something like that. He didn't stop until you told him to, and that you weren't blaming him.

● It broke Carlos' heart how close you'd come to dying because of things he'd done in the past. The fact that the remnants of Umbrella were still after him after several years filled him with fear. He decided he wouldn't leave you alone in the hospital for even half an hour, and ended up asking a friend to bring you some of your stuff.

● While you were in the hospital, he never left your side. He ended up calling Leon to ask about any safe houses you two could go to, and made arrangements to move out of your house as soon as you'd leave the hospital.

● When you two finally made it to a safe house Leon had found for you, Carlos kept on worrying. Not about himself, but about you. He couldn't control the sense of guilt, and kept on apologising, much to your dismay.

● He took very good care of you at the safe house, making sure your recovery was going smoothly. He couldn't stop fussing over you. He cooked for you, cleaned everything before you even had a chance to do anything, and constantly made sure you were taking your medication when it was time.

● At night, he held you tightly, afraid someone would rip you from his arms and take you away from him forever. The thought of losing you had always scared him, but after the stabbing, he dealt with a lot of anxiety. He would become extremely protective of you and would only leave the house if Leon, Jill or Claire was with you.

● It had been almost as traumatising to him as it had been to you, so the two of you talked a lot; about what had happened, about where to go from there, and about making sure it would never happen again.

● After discussing everything at length with Jill, Chris and Leon, Carlos decided to not try and track down the person who had stabbed you. Jill promised they would dive into this case because it was possibly related to Umbrella, and Leon assured them he'd provide them with any information Hunnigan could get her hands on.

● After several months of staying at the safe house, you and Carlos finally moved to another place that you'd be able to call home again. He was still worried about letting you go out by yourself, but after spending a lot of time talking about it, he felt he couldn't just keep you imprisoned in your own house.

● Still, every time he is away from you for longer than half an hour, he cannot help but worry.

I'm sorry if it's too long. I couldn't stop typing. Hope whoever read this entire thing enjoyed it. ♡

[calcifersfireplaceonao3]

Prompt: Leon and Claire go hangout one night after a hard mission and Leon lets slip how much he loves Claire

This got long 😅

Media: Resident Evil

Ship: Cleon (Claire Redfield/Leon S. Kennedy)

Rating: tentatively Teen, due to mentions of canon typical violence and injuries

Tags: confessing love, hurt/comfort, post RE6

-----

An almost annoying rhythm of knocks raps against his hotel room door and Leon has to chuckle to himself; thirty-six straight hours of running for their lives in a shit situation and Claire somehow still has the energy to be cheeky. When he opens the door she looks equally as exhausted as he feels, comfortable jeans and soft sweater with the rare sight of her hair down barely masking that she seems minutes away from swaying on her feet. But she still showed, just like she always does.

“How’s the shoulder.” He asks and cracks a smile when she makes a face and shrugs with her good arm, moving past him into the room and bringing the clean smell of shampoo with her.

“All good. It took fifteen minutes to fish out the stupid piece of, fucking, whatever that was.” He laughs and she sticks out her tongue, “How are your stitches?”

He taps the outside of his thigh lightly and thumbs up, “Wrapped up nice and tight. I think Hunnigan has told them to punish me when I do something stupid though, the guy sewing me up was very stab happy.”

It’s her turn to laugh at him and he nudges her good shoulder softly. “We still going out? We could always stay here and order pizza or something.”

She sighs in relief dramatically, smoothing her hands over her face before shooting him a grateful smile, “Oh my god yes, junk food and becoming an installation the couch sounds amazing.”

“On it.” Claire busies herself while he orders, nosing through the mini-fridge and laughing at the tiny bottles, eventually surfacing with a sparkling water for him that he wrinkles his nose at and a soda for herself. When he turns to join her in the meager hotel suite ‘sitting’ room, she’s taken off her shoes and light sweater leaving her in a thin camisole resting lightly over the thick bandage around her left shoulder.

“How much does this hurt?” The bandage can’t cover the dark bruises seeping across her skin, the points of her spine highlighted in reds and purples accented with scrapes and nicks. All he can think about is the back of her jacket and how it was nearly shredded, large holes from shrapnel… the one time she doesn’t wear a leather jacket and it's when she needed its protection the most. Gently he sweeps her hair over one shoulder to see everything. Unable to help himself he rests his palm carefully on her skin, to remind himself that she’s still here and relatively safe.

“Well, I won’t be sleeping on my back for a while, that’s for sure. But I’m good, it’ll heal. They gave me some strong painkillers, I’ll be fine.” He doesn’t say anything and she tenses, the muscles under his palm bunching as she sneaks a look at his face.

“You’re going to get sentimental on me, aren’t you.” Claire half jokes and taps his hand where it rests just above the bandage on her shoulder. “Spill it.”

When he can’t find the words she takes his hand and turns, “Leon, seriously. Talk to me about it.”

She lets him find what he wants to say in semi-peace, giving him time, guiding him to sit on the couch with her. He frowns when her back rests too much weight on the rough fabric and she hisses quietly, leaning forward.

“I saw you get tagged and… wow. I don’t know. It was like I couldn’t breathe.” Eventually she breaks the silence, his grace period apparently over as she masterfully cuts right to the heart of it. “I know it was just a graze, but- seeing you get shot… and so close.”

Her hand hovers at his side where his shirt hides the bandage plastered to his ribcage. “Anyway, I didn’t think it would be that hard, you know? We’ve seen each other get hurt before, but I don’t know. I guess that’s something you can’t get used to.”

They don’t have a way of defining exactly what they are, but the years of circling around each other seem to be finally at an end. Enough at least that he feels like it’s okay to card his fingers through her hair and by the way she presses her cheek into his palm and closes her eyes it’s clear his touch isn’t unwelcome.

“You,” his voice comes out low and hollow, surprising them both, “you were caught up in that explosion, and you weren’t answering on comms–”

“Because I was unconscious.” She says, matter-of-fact.

“Yeah. You were unconscious." Leon's not sure there could be much that would be scarier than finding her face down and unresponsive. She was still breathing, and even though he was worried that he was doing more damage moving her, he'd fireman carried her towards a hiding spot and waited anxiously until she'd woken up. Claire has always been tough, whatever grit that seems to be genetic in the Redfields helping her push through almost everything; she'd even helped carry him when a C-virus victim had taken out a good chunk of his leg with their claws and he couldn't run as fast as they needed to.

"This one was a bad one." She says with a small sad smile. "Not sure it could have gone much worse."

We're still alive at least, he thinks and as if she read his mind she says the same thing aloud. Then there's not a lot to talk about because their food is here and they're both ravenous, scarfing down their food while Claire also picks out a movie for them. She loves cheesy horror movies and he loves watching her enjoy them, spending most of the runtime watching her instead, commenting occasionally when he finds something to be particularly stupid and laughing with her.

When it's over her usually bright eyes are losing the fight against exhaustion and should let her go, let her leave to get some well earned sleep.

She doesn't say anything when he lays back and pulls her with him, arranging them so she's not putting any pressure or contact on her back, her weight pinning him in a comforting and grounding way.

"I can stay here." She whispers into his chest, he can feel her smile and waits for whatever she thinks is so funny, "My bathroom looks like I killed someone and I feel very guilty for the housekeeper that is going to have to deal with that. You'd be doing me a solid letting me hide out."

It's a flimsy, stupid excuse, but it makes him laugh anyway. "Oh, if it's just for that reason, I think you can."

"Great, just give me like, five minutes and I'll get up and stop crushing you." The soft puff of air from her laugh when he wraps his arms around her waist to keep her there is something he wants to hear over and over. Her breathing slows and he's suddenly anxious that she may be asleep when he finally has the words for what he's been trying to say for what may well be years now.

"Claire."

"Yeah?" She mumbles.

"I… I was terrified because I couldn't lose you. Not when– not when I hadn't told you," he takes a deep breath and she's holding herself very still, listening intently, "Claire, I'm in love with you. I probably have been for a long time, or at least longer than I realize, I'm sorry it took so long for me to get my shit together and say something. The idea that I almost missed my chance again, only this time it wasn't because of you being with someone else, or my dumb ass not having my head on straight, but because you died…"

Claire pushes up on her good arm to get a good look at his face and he loosens his arms to let her, uncomfortable about spilling his guts like this but knowing that she'll be thoughtful in her answer, whatever it'll be.

"I'm still here." She says, and her other palm is flat against his chest. A warm reminder of her words and her presence. She speaks slowly, carefully choosing her words, "I've been in love with you since those weeks we had with Sherry, I've tried to get over it, get over you since but it's never stuck. I thought we missed it too. Us, I mean. I'm really happy that maybe we haven't."

Her wide smile, almost the same as the one she'd given him all those years ago when they had met back up, separated by a chain link fence, already so loyal and glad to see him. He likes to think of it as his smile, something she saves for him.

She's still smiling when he kisses her gently.

----

For once something not angsty from me in the way of them arguing with each other!

[zepskies]

Hello, my love! 🩷

Ahaha no worries, hun!! Now you get to read Parts 2 and 3 without having to wait! 😂

I leave an hour for each stage of getting ready.

Exactly! And an extra hour for cushion! You get my math. 😂

But yes, I really wanted to call back to moments in BMD, and a red dress for Christmas seemed a perfect time to shoutout the night they met. 🥲 I'm so glad you enjoyed the description of the fit. I had a really fun time researching dresses and how to visualize it narratively!

[On Ben buying her earrings from an old-school catalogue lol]: It's my headcanon that with the kind of money this guy has, being a little rich boi, he'd like to bling his girl out. Now, our reader's not materialistic (and probably wasn't given many gifts as a kid/over the years with the hard lifestyle she led), so she really takes those gifts to heart.

THEY’RE SO CUTE OMGGG!!! Him modernising for her, and Pookie dipping her toe into the vintage era for him 🥹

Exactly my goal here! I knew you would pick that out. 😘

Benjamin, that would entail messing up the hair and makeup that took ages to perfect 🖐️

Well, ordinarily yes, but Trina's stress is gonna push our girl to the brink this time. 😅

LOL you're right, Marie treating him like a son is ironic when you remember his real age. 😂 But yeah, Louisa's being a bit salty. She has her reasons, but still. 🫠

“You’d told him about Alexa and Siri and all those techno bitches out there now, controlling people’s houses. He didn’t trust it.” — Omg this is such a funny concept to me, Ben learning about all of this shit would be hilarious 🤣 and it’s even funnier that he doesn’t trust it LMAOO!!

Isn't that just the best visual? Ben interacting with Alexa like she's a real fucking person, being confused and suspicious AF. 🤣🤣

And of course he gravitates to George. They're the closest in age! 😂 But it was so fun shading in the reader's family, especially with George, with her sense of humor/mischief coming from him.

When I see ‘Mets’ it reminds me of a club we have in Brisbane called ‘The Met’.

Oh that's so cool!!

Stan grandma for clear skin. At least Ben can’t hit on her with her being dead…

LOL wait 'til Great Aunt Sylvia meets him in Part 3. 😂

Oh it’s easy, just say that one of his dipshit employees at the time kidnapped you for no good reason, and so Soldier Boy nobly… uhh… kept you on house arrest, and eventually killed aforementioned dipshit.

LMFAO a nice and easy summation. But omfg your comments on Trina had my dying a million deaths. 🤣🤣 Some of my favorites:

Does this mean that EVERYONE can spit the truth? Because Trina I’ve gotta say, you’re a big mouthed slag who nobody likes because you give thoughts that nobody even asked for 🤙

TRINA YOU SLUTBAG THAT WAS SO OUTTA POCKET!

Trina why the fuck are you so obsessed with weight?? Who HURT you?

Believe me, you get this a lot in Latino/Hispanic households. It's obnoxious. 🙄🙄 Meanwhile, they be eating a whole tray of custard flan by themselves.

Ben’s intro to her family was less chaotic then I thought, he funnily enough just got to chill with the oldies.

Lol that's true! His turn will come more in Part 3. But while I don't have a "Trina" to this degree in my family, I have had grandmothers who made unsolicited opinions on weight and beauty, etc. 🥲

It was fun to see Ben and George interact though, I was curious to see how he might react to his granddaughter dating a man as old as he is and I love that it wasn’t even brought up.

...This is a great point, actually lmao. I could've explored that a bit more. But when I think about it, the boomer era was known for being kind of blase about age gaps. Granted, Ben's 102 and the reader is less than half his age. 🤣

But he's in this 45-ish man body, so it's almost like an Edward Cullen/Bella situation -- the age gap is so wide it doesn't even really matter anymore. What matters is the differing rates at which both of them will continue to age.

Though the reader does have to contend with Louisa's opinions on Ben's age. So there's that. 🤣

I'm so glad that you enjoyed Part 2!! I'm very excited to see what you think of Part 3. 😘😘

Love Actually - Part 2

Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Summary: You and Ben steel yourselves in order to meet your crazy family for Christmas dinner.

AN: Here’s the requested Part 2! It got too long, so I had to break it up lol. There will be a Part 3 after this (final part). I also tried really hard to find an image/gif that would match this chapter better, but alas, there are only so many pictures of this scruffy guy. (And none in a real suit. 😂)

Read Part 1

Remember, this story is set in the same world as “Break Me Down,” and set before “Checkerboard.” But this can be read as a stand-alone! Hope you enjoy…

Word Count: 4,800 Tags/Warnings: Tense situations, bit of angst, lots of sexy fluff

Part 2: "Season’s Greetings"

Ben checked his watched again. 

He’d lost count of how many times, how many minutes, how long he’d been waiting for you to come down the goddamn stairs so he could get this night over with. 

You’d been getting ready for this dinner with your family for four hours. How long did it take you to slap on some makeup and throw on a dress?

Finally, he heaved a sigh and got up from the couch, adjusting the watch on his wrist. He stayed by the foot of the stairs and called up to you.

“Hey. What’s taking so damn long?” he asked. His brows were furrowed, mouth set in an aggravated frown. “I already told you. I’m not planning on being at this thing all night. So if you don’t come down here in the next ten minutes, I swear to fucking Christ—” 

Ben stopped short, as he heard your footsteps at the top of the stairs. When he looked up with expectant, pursed lips, his face subtly froze. 

“What? What’re you gonna do?” you teased. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you grasped the guardrail and carefully made your way down the stairs. These heels were no joke. 

You had a black suede clutch tucked in your other hand, but Ben was drawn to the bright red of your dress. The color alone appealed to him. It called back a memory of a musty club, rich whiskey, and the dulcet tones of your voice.

But now, this dress was shorter. It also hugged your every curve and stopped just a few inches above the knee. He noticed a tantalizing little slit in the back, at the hem, leading his eyes down your sheer pantyhose and down to the tall, black heels.

His lips formed a teasing smile. “You sure you can walk in those?” 

But you could see the truth in his eyes; he liked what he saw. They raked back up your body, taking in the short sleeves, the slight plunge of the neckline, the red lipstick as bright as your dress, the soft sweep of eyeliner and dark lashes—and you hoped he noticed the way you’d painstakingly done your hair into soft, ‘40s style waves.

“Do I look shaky to you?” you countered.

Ben tilted his head slightly as he stared up at you. “Not one bit.”

He reached out for you on the last step of the stairs. You took his hand and gave him a grateful look, but your hand didn’t stop there. It grazed up the sleeve of his suit jacket as you took him in with a smile.

Not often one to don a simple black suit, Ben went with a charcoal gray against a crisp black undershirt. No tie though, leaving the first couple of buttons casually open. 

“Look at my man, all sharp and modern and sexy as hell,” you purred. He accepted the praise with a pleased quirk of his lips. 

Normally you wouldn’t try to feed his peacock-level pride too much. He knew he was a damn fine-looking man. However, you also knew he wasn’t totally into meeting the rest of your family tonight. You knew you needed to give him a (well earned) ego boost.

“Gotta match my girl,” said Ben. Though he fingered the ends of your softly curled hair with a more genuine glint to his smile. “Though you’ve gone a bit vintage.”

“Compromise.” You grinned, and you leaned up for a soft kiss. 

He met you there, even pressing his luck when his tongue begged entrance against your lips. You held his cheek and brushed your thumb there tenderly, but you soon broke away. 

“We’ve got somewhere to be,” you reminded him. Ben sighed through his nose, though his hands molded to your waist.  

“I didn’t realize you were that kinky,” he said. His voice was deep and suggestive. Your face started to heat up, even as your brows knitted with confusion.

“What?” you asked. 

“I know you’re not gonna make me wait all night to get a taste of this,” he said. And he leaned down to begin plying you with his heavy hands and his lips along your neck. “I gotta assume you want me to fuck you in your mom’s house.”

You uttered a shocked laugh. You batted his shoulder, even though it didn’t even make him blink. His lips curved as they grazed your neck. He inhaled under your ear, making a pleasant shudder run down your spine. He hummed in approval.

“Is that the perfume I got you?” he asked. 

“Mhmm,” you nodded. “I like it a lot. Makes me feel all warm and spicy.”

Ben chuckled into your neck. He did pull back eventually to thumb around the edge of one of your earrings—the second part of his Christmas gift to you. The white stone and silver filigree shone in the light. 

“They look good,” he remarked, giving you a charming smile. “Better on you than the catalogue girl.”

Now that was an image. Soldier Boy: browsing through a magazine of women’s jewelry. You smiled brightly at him. 

“Thank you, baby,” you replied. “They really are beautiful.”

Then you glanced down to find your gift to him on his wrist: a new silver Rolex. You turned his hand over to make sure that it fit him right.

“Not too tight, right? Not too loose.” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nah, it’s good.”

“Just good? Does it still need adjusting? We can go back to the store and have them fix it—”

“It’s perfect, sweetheart. Stop fussing,” he said. Your lips pursed as you looked up at him from the watch. 

“I just want to make sure you’re happy with it, that’s all,” you said. 

“I am,” he replied. But his smile, the hidden glint of something in his eyes, made you blush. Inside, you were warm and pleased.  

“All right, let’s go then,” you said. “I’ve got the rum cake, and the actual rum ready to go in the kitchen. And the presents are lined up by the door. Can you load those up in the car for me while I get the food?”

Ben obliged you, though he soon balked at the army of presents waiting for him by the door. When did you have time to get all of these? He didn’t remember you buying all this shit. 

Though he realized, this must’ve been how you filled your time after work, while he was gone for the past two weeks on that mission. 

As he loaded the gifts into the car, Ben reluctantly remembered that it had been…strange, to be away from you. For the past few months, you two had fallen into a rhythm. Waking up to each other, busy morning routines before work, sharing your evenings afterwards. 

You had also been making it your mission to find new things to do together. Like paintballing, of all things. Or comedy shows, new movies and restaurants, concerts, club nights with your friends. Though it was weird for him, sometimes, to go to a show without all the celebrity fanfare he used to get as Soldier Boy.    

Well, he was still Soldier Boy. He just wasn’t getting paid anywhere near the same as he used to. (But let’s face it, he didn’t need the damn money. He’d earned plenty in 40 years of fame and family inheritance.) 

People still knew his name, still worshiped him at times, but it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t part of Vought’s machine anymore. No one really told him what to do, but if he wanted this life—here, in upstate New York—he was forced to make efforts to color within the lines of the law (mostly). Hell, he actually worked for a living. Even if it was for the government.  

The point was, he was part of something. And it wasn’t totally shit, even if he was surrounded by morons on a daily basis…  

By the time you opened the passenger side door to interrupt his musings, Ben remembered to actually start the car. 

“You okay?” you asked as you clicked in your seatbelt. You were keeping a close eye on him tonight, trying to gauge his shifting moods. 

Ben hesitated, but when he glanced over at you, he reached over and thumbed at your chin, under those ruby red lips. It made you smile. 

“Yeah,” he replied. Though he let out a subtle breath as he faced the road and took the wheel of the car. Ever perceptive though, you sent him an assessing look. 

“You’re not nervous, are you?” you asked. His brows furrowed slightly.

“Why would I be?” he asked, his voice a bit sharp. Defensive, you interpreted. 

Instead of answering, you leaned over and laid a hand on his thigh.

“Look, my mom already likes you. Louisa’s going to come around,” you said. Your mouth edged into a smile, of sorts. “I just need you to stop me from killing my aunt with a ladle.” 

Ben snorted in response. “All right.”

When the two of you arrived at your mother’s house, she opened the door to her home and greeted your boyfriend like a long-lost son. 

“Oh, Ben! Come in, please,” she beckoned, grabbing his arm and guiding him inside. “You look so handsome, my goodness!” 

Ben couldn’t help offering a smile. It was infused with his usual charm. 

“Marie,” he greeted with a nod. You shook your head, despite your own smile. Ben liked attention—along with a bit of praise and fanfare went without saying. And you knew your mom wouldn’t be the only one to play into that tonight. 

“Hi, Mom,” you said pointedly, with a hand on your hip. Marie turned to you with a bright smile. 

“Oh! Honey, there you are. Merry Christmas!” She brought you in and hugged you tight. She then fairly gushed as she took in your dress and touched your hair. “Oh, you look so beautiful. I wish you’d come earlier though. I need you to help me and Trina. Come on.”

Marie glanced up at Ben again. “Oh, you too, hun! We can introduce you to everyone.”

Ben nodded. He followed your lead behind your mother, and you inwardly steeled yourself on the way to the kitchen. The familiar smells awaiting you brought you back to the better parts of your childhood. Ones that were filled with music, laughs, and good food.    

And if there was one redeeming quality about your Aunt Trina, it was that she could cook her ass off. Since your mom had always been more of the “boxed meal” variety cook, Trina always took over at Thanksgiving and Christmas, and just about every other family gathering. 

She was putting the ham in the oven while your sister sat at the kitchen table with your Grandpa George, peeling potatoes. The bigger table in the dining room was currently set up with appetizers and wine. 

But the sounds of chatter and pots and pans and cabinets closing—it all stopped when you and Ben entered the kitchen. You felt his hand at the small of your back, and whether he meant it to or not, that familiar touch stabilized you. 

Even Trina stopped giving Louisa directions on how to correctly peel and cut the potatoes for boiling. Her mouth opened when she took in the sight of Ben, from head to toe. 

“Good evening,” he said, if only to break the silence. 

But you knew the rest was up to you. You curled a hand around his solid arm and gave him a smile, before looking to your family. 

“Hey, guys. Merry Christmas!” you greeted. “This is my boyfriend, Ben.”

Trina squealed in excitement. She came over (with a wooden spoon in hand) to give you an enthusiastic hug and kiss. She held your arms and looked between you and Ben. 

“Your mom said you were dating a superhero, but I had no idea…” she twittered. “I mean…it’s Soldier Boy. He’s in my kitchen!” 

“It’s Mom’s kitchen, actually,” you muttered. Trina’s excitement dimmed slightly as she rolled her eyes at you.

“Ever the smart mouth,” she said, playfully whacking you in the ass with her spoon. 

Ben smirked. He certainly agreed with your aunt’s assessment. He turned to her to offer something in greeting, but before he could, Louisa’s voice cut in from across the room. 

“What should we call you? Ben, or Soldier Boy?” she asked dryly. 

You frowned, gave your sister a look. Meanwhile, Ben didn’t quite make it to a smile, but he was civil when he answered her. 

“Ben’s fine.”

You remained in the kitchen to help out, while Ben migrated to the living room with your grandfather. Ben grabbed a large glass of wine on his way there, along with a few mini quiche to tide him over until dinner. 

He then noticed an old woman sleeping on the leather recliner. 

“Who’s that?” he asked George. 

“Oh, that’s Great Aunt Sylvia,” George said. “She just took an oxy for her hip. She’ll be passed out ‘til dinner.”  

Ben blinked at the casual mention of oxycodone, but he wouldn’t mind a few of what Sylvia was having. Oxy gave him such a nice buzz. 

But instead, he and George sat on opposite ends of the couch while Sylvia snored away. 

For a moment, it was quiet, save for the soft crooning of Nat King Cole playing (and Sylvia). The music came from a small round speaker on the coffee table, Ben noticed. You’d told him about Alexa and Siri and all those techno bitches out there now, controlling people’s houses. He didn’t trust it. 

“You like baseball?” George asked as he turned on the TV. Ben nodded, and the other man put on a game. Mets versus the Cubs, three to one. The men were silent for a while as they watched the game. 

Unfortunately for Ben, that peace couldn’t last. 

“So,” George started. “You’re a supe, huh?”

Ben inclined his head, sipping at his wine. This was what he fucking hated. Small talk. 

“I remember you,” George said. “My wife and I liked that movie you made…King of Kings. With Charlton Heston. What a classic that guy was.”

Ben smiled. “He was a good time. Drank like a fucking fish.”

George raised a brow. “Did he? Well, we all need a glass every now and then.”

Ben nodded, taking a pointed sip of his wine. 

“Heston. One of the few celebrities I gave a shit about when he died,” George said with a shake of his head. “Wasn’t long before my wife’s passing.”

You’d told Ben a lot about your grandmother. When your parents got divorced, she’d insisted that you, your mom, and your sister live with her and George. She didn’t want to take any chances with your dad, who’d been more than unstable at the time in his drinking. 

Ben didn’t often pray. But he drank then with a silent toast, that good ole’ Jon was getting hot coals up the ass right about now. In hell.

Ben then considered your grandfather’s musings, realizing he hadn’t thought about his old pal Heston in a long time.  

“How’d he die?” Ben asked. George glanced over at him.

“Well, official case was pneumonia. But it wasn’t all that clear,” he said. “However, I think he had a flare up.”

“Of what?” Ben asked.

George gave him a wry look. “The fate that all men fear. Ass cancer.”

Ben raised a brow, his mouth twitching. He had a feeling he knew where your sense of humor came from. 

“You probably don’t have to worry about that,” George waved a dismissive hand. “You’re still young. Well, sort of…I mean, being superhuman and all that. I’m sure that comes in handy with the normal stuff, like the sniffles and whatnot…and hey! At least you won’t have to worry about your asshole fallin’ out.”

Ben actually smiled. Now he knew you were related to this man. 

In the kitchen, you were trying and failing to dodge a game of “Twenty Questions” with your aunt, while you and your sister finished cutting potatoes. All of the questions were predictably centered around Ben. Luckily, you had a plate of mini quiche, cheese, and salami between you and Louisa to keep you pacified. 

“Well, you’ve done well for yourself, I’ll give you that,” Trina said. “But why on God’s green Earth didn’t you tell us you were dating Soldier Boy? How the hell did you even meet him?”

Shit. There was more than one reason you hadn’t told the rest of your family yet, and this was partly it. How the hell were you supposed to explain this? 

Louisa shot you a knowing look, along with a raised brow. 

“Well, I was actually assigned to find him after he…went missing last year,” you said, keeping things purposefully vague. “We met and…things just kind of took off from there.”

Your mom and your sister didn’t even know all the details, but they knew this much. After Soldier Boy used his nuclear power to end Homelander, he’d escaped in the aftermath. 

You’d been working a year in Surveillance at Supe Affairs, but you’d been a private investigator by trade, previously working at your father’s firm. You’d even worked at Vought for a few years, before joining the S.A. 

You were then recruited by Grace Mallory to track down Soldier Boy, along with Butcher and his team. 

…And that’s where things got complicated. 

“But isn’t Soldier Boy the one who killed Homelander?” Trina asked. She stopped in her stirring of the cranberry sauce to look back at you. And you met her stare directly. 

“Yes. He was partnered with the CIA on that.” Sort of. You added, “Homelander wasn’t the hero you all thought you knew, remember? He was a raging psychopath.”

Trina huffed at that. 

“So was your father. And you still worked with him for years,” she remarked, even off-handedly as she went back to stirring.

Your entire body stilled. Inside, your temper was a lit fuse, preparing to ignite. You stuffed a mini quiche into your mouth to stop you from exploding. 

And your mom and your sister recognized the danger. Louisa frowned tightly and touched your arm. 

She had been too young to form a true relationship with your father by the time your parents were divorced, and your grandparents (and later you) hadn’t allowed Jon to interfere too much with Louisa's life. So Jon’s death, a mere seven months ago, hadn’t truly affected her as deeply as it had you. 

And that in itself was complicated. 

Marie paused in preparing the sweet potato casserole to give her sister a warning look. 

“Trina, that’s not fair,” said Marie. 

Your aunt shrugged. “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

Slowly, you stood. You grabbed a hand towel and brushed the velvety remains of potato skin from your hands. You also took the plate of cheese cubes and salami with you. 

“Honey, she just means—” 

“I know what she meant, Mom,” you said. Your mother wasn’t confrontational. She would never tell her sister to shut the fuck up when she was being out of pocket. 

But you had no problem doing so. You walked over to Trina, who saw the look in your eye and actually relented, realizing that there was, in fact, a line, and she had crossed it. 

“Look, I’d like us to continue having a nice evening,” you told her. “Mention my father again, and it won’t be.” 

After a moment, Trina nodded. 

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. Don’t mind me,” she said. But then, she smiled. “I’m really happy for you, sweetheart. You’ve got a superhero! Who knew you’d pull that one off, huh?”

Your flat smile remained. “Oh, yeah? How do you mean?” 

Trina faltered. Apparently, she hadn’t expected that. 

“Oh. Well, you know…”

“No. I really don’t. Can you clarify for me?” you asked, using the same even tone you employed with testy co-workers on the Surveillance team. 

Trina sighed. “Oh, honey. You’re a beautiful girl, but…”

“What?” you challenged. “Just say it.”

Behind Trina’s coil of dark hair piled on her head, Marie looked worried. Louisa was also on tenterhooks, gripping the kitchen table. She slowly got to her feet though, in case she needed to intervene. 

“Well, I wasn’t gonna say anything,” Trina said. She gestured to you, after grabbing a cheese cube off your plate. “But your hips, hun. I mean, I enjoy a snack. A bon bon. A chocolate eclair. The occasional croissant, but the weight don’t come off easier as you get older, does it?” 

You were officially burning like a tea kettle.  

“And with a man like that…” Trina fanned herself with the discarded, empty bag of cranberries. “Mother of God. He’s gotta be beating ‘em off with a fucking stick.” 

Your mom pursed her lips at the salty language, giving Trina a sharp glance (for multiple reasons). 

Trina noticed, but she only popped another piece of salami into her mouth. “Sorry, hun.” 

But then she turned back to you. 

“And have you talked about kids yet? That’ll be some serious weight gain.” 

You let out a sharp breath and raised your gaze heavenward, pleading for mercy. 

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered.  

“I’m just sayin’!” she said. “He might have forever, but you certainly don’t.” 

Now that one struck a nerve. Perhaps not the one she intended, but it cut deeply into you all the same. You and Ben had agreed to pin that conversation for now, but the fact was, he would continue to age much slower than you. 

At your steely glare, Trina again raised her hands. This time in placating defense. “I’m trying to help you, is all I’m saying.” 

You gripped the edge of the kitchen counter so tight you thought a manicured nail might break off. You’d reached the end of your tether. 

“I’ve been here for all of five minutes—” 

“Okay, you know what?” Louisa finally stepped in and grabbed your arm. “I need your help. Let’s find the red tablecloth so we can set the table.”

She led you out of the kitchen and into the hall, but you stopped short so fast that you skidded a bit in your heels. You took deep breaths and braced a hand against the wall.  

You turned to your sister. “Why doesn’t she attack you like that?” 

“Oh, believe me,” Louisa said, rolling her eyes. “I had my turn before you got here. I’ve been locked in with these clucking hens all morning.” 

A grin twitched at the corner of your lips. 

“My condolences,” you said. But then, you look at your sister a bit harder. “And you. What’s your problem, huh? How long are you going to give Ben a hard time?” 

It took her a moment, but Louisa eventually sighed. 

“I mean, Aunt Trina’s an asshole, but she kind of said it. He’s literally a century-years-old,” she said. “How do you not have a problem with that?” 

You crossed your arms, though you knew you didn’t have a good answer for that one. 

“Age is…relative.” You struggled against a wince. 

“He lived through the damn Dust Bowl,” Louisa deadpanned. “He’s fucking ancient.” 

You glared back at her. “Okay, enough. What’s your real problem, huh? I mean really.”

Louisa let out another sigh. Her hands went to her hips. You hadn’t had a chance to tell her, but she looked pretty tonight too in her black dress. It flared at the waist and reached her knees, and she’d paired it with some chunky red heels. She was a little taller than you normally, but not by much. As the older sister, you enjoyed finally being taller than her for once in your higher heels. 

Still, you were annoyed with her right now. You sensed she had something deeper against Ben, and it wasn’t all about his age. When she eventually answered, it just confirmed your suspicions. 

“He’s dangerous,” she said at last. “He’s so fucking dangerous.” 

That disheartened you. Your lips pressed, and you held onto your own arms a bit tighter. 

“Not to me,” you replied. Louisa’s frown deepened as her brows knitted together.

“Especially to you,” she said. “He kidnapped you.” 

You gave a wan smile. “Not technically.” 

That had been one of his subordinates, who’d taken you outside of Ben’s orders…

It was a long and complicated story, but basically, it had worked out for both of you in the end. 

Louisa gave you a more incredulous look. “He’s got an atomic bomb in his chest.” 

“He’s working on controlling it,” you insisted. “He’s gotten a lot better!” 

Louisa threw her hands upward in exasperation and turned to leave you in the hall. You stopped her with a hand on her arm. 

“Look, I get it,” you said, meeting her gaze directly. “You’re worried about me. But here’s the thing…you don’t have to do that. I’m the one who looks out for you, remember?” 

Once again, she frowned at you. “Why, just because you’re older?” 

You gave her a teasing smile. 

“Well, yeah.” Still, you grasped both of her arms, now crossed in front of her chest. “Lou, haven’t I always taken care of you?” 

“Okay, yeah,” she said. “But who takes care of you? Who makes sure you’re all right?” 

You gave her a patient, if knowing look. 

She grimaced. “Oh, don’t you say it.” 

“Honestly, Lou. He does take care of me…he makes me feel safe.” You bit your lip, and your eyes began to well up with the sting of tears, emotion rising in your throat. “I’ve never had that. Ever.” 

Your sister released a heavy sigh. “I know.” 

“Then can you actually try to get to know him? Please?” You rubbed her arms, pleading with your eyes. You wanted your family to like your boyfriend, but it was so much more than that. You didn’t want to have separate worlds. Everyone in this house was part of your family, and that now included Ben.

The longer she looked into your imploring eyes, Louisa’s grimace lightened, just a touch. “I’ll think about it.” 

You smiled then, warmly as you hugged your sister. You then kissed her on the cheek, leaving the bright red imprint of your lipstick.

When you went back into the kitchen, your better mood was ruined pretty quickly by watching your aunt run your mother around the kitchen with demands and instructions. You decided to jump into the fray, taking a large serving bowl out of Marie’s hands before it tipped over.

“How’s the ham doing?” you asked. 

“About half an hour or so, I think,” Trina said. “Maybe forty-five.”

“Okay, and what’s left?”

“Let’s get the desserts ready.”

While your help sorely relieved your mother, it was actually a terrible idea for your mental health. When you could take no more of Trina’s irritating, commanding voice in your ear, you had to take a breath (as well as down a full glass of wine). 

You wordlessly asked Louisa to tag in for you before you traveled into the living room. 

There you found Ben immersed in a baseball game with Grandpa George. Both men only looked up at you when you stood near the couch with crossed arms. Your nerves were on edge, your blood still just short of boiling, but you took pains to look pleasant.

“Who’s winning?” you asked.

Ben quirked a smile at the sight of you, while George gave his more freely.

“5 to 3. It’s close on the Mets,” he said. You realized then that you hadn’t even hugged your grandfather yet. 

“Oh my God, Grandpa! I’m so sorry,” you said with a frown. You went over to hug him. “Trina has me all out of whack.”

George chuckled and patted you warmly on the back. “Why do you think I’m out here?”

You sighed with a wry smile. You then turned to Great Aunt Sylvia, who was still passed out in the recliner. 

“Aunt Sylvia?” you tried. You went over to her and touched her arm. 

“Leave her be, hun,” George told you. “Only the smell of food’ll rouse that woman.” 

Your smile deepened. Then you turned to Ben, who’d been watching you with reserved interest. He’d never seen you with the rest of your family before.

You went to him on his side of the couch and asked, in a tone deceptively light, “How about a tour of the house? You haven’t even seen it all.”

He could admit, it was a fairly big house for just your mother, but he was more interested in the game. 

“I’m watching this,” he said, gesturing at the screen. However, when he saw the tight press of your lips, he knew something wasn’t right with you. You were trying to tell him something with your eyes, he just didn’t know what.

You leaned down, subtly grabbing his thigh.

“I need you,” you whispered in his ear. “Now.” 

The tone of your voice set his blood alight with new interest.

Ben’s resulting smirk was subtle, but edged. 

“A tour it is.” 

AN: Just when you thought you'd seen the last of my BMD cliffhangers. 😏

How'd you like Ben's introduction to his girlfriend's family? I also sincerely hope you don't have an "Aunt Trina" in your life. 🙄

Next Time:

He grabbed your arms and meant to kiss you, but you stopped him with your fingers against his lips. 

“Two rules: this lipstick doesn’t come off. And no. Ripping. The dress.”

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[rabbits-of-habit]

Howdy again! I hope ur doing well also idk if I asked this HC already (I think I asked 2 people this HC but I’m not sure which one 😅) so I apologize if I’m repeating myself. But can I have an HC w both the EMH & TT boys where their so is in art school (specifically animation major). And their s/o needs them as a reference for an assignment? Idk the thought a few of them having to sit there in a complicated ass pose for like 2 hours while their s/o draws them or animates them is hilarious to me. 😂 cuz I know damn well some of them would have no patience for that!

You did not ask me so you're all good! Also im doing awesome. I got to go to the zoo yesterday and I'm still pumped by it. -Mod Dirk

Evan:

When you asked him if you could use him as a reference he said yes absolutely.

He would try pulling some manly pose like flexing his muscles. To which you would roll your eyes and laugh.

"What? I have to show off my muscle tone so you can get it right!"

He can't stay in the pose. 5 mins in he asks to switch poses.

Sad for you he does that every 5 mins.

You finally have to just stand him straight up and make him wait.

You get a c+ because most of your time was spent getting him still than using him as a reference.

Vinnie:

You went to him and it took a bit of resistance. Only a few pretty pleases and he caved.

He sits like a normal person. Always the lawful neutral.

"Is sitting okay? Or do you need me to stand? How long will we be doing this?"

He continues to ask questions and partially distract you.

He cannot handle a quiet room I am so sorry.

You get a B because you were able to get the work done but not focus fully.

Jeff:

You made sure to hit him in a moment he wasn't busy with Alex. It was a definite yes of course.

The tamest boy out of the three.

Can stay still and be in a quiet room.

Just happy to be able to spend time with you like this to be honest.

Also happy to have a moment of fuckin peace.

"This is the nicest break I've ever had."

You get an A and your animation studio prof shows it to other classes as an example.

Habit:

This asshole only said yes because his ego.

Has knives on a belt and an axe in his hands.

He can stay still but will he shut up? Absolutely not.

"You better make sure to get every angle right"

That is indeed a thinly veiled threat.

He also had an exception it had to be a small animation about him completely.

You got an A but only because the teacher was freaked out by the animation. And Habit threatened them.

Noah:

Oh boy...You love him to death but it was kind of hard to get him to agree.

He knew he wouldn't be able to stay still very well and tried to tell you no so you wouldn't waste your time.

He stands awkwardly and stiff.

Hes trying his best okay? He's never done this before.

"Well how am I supposed to stand?" To which you respond with, "Like a normal human?"

He doesn't move on purpose but he twitches and shakes. He cannot physically stay still.

You get a B+ and you start using him for references more often.

Kevin:

This boy was so flattered when you asked him.

Honestly? Super excited and was just waiting for the moment you could use him as a reference.

But, he asks you a lot of questions.

"Do you think you'll get a good grade? How long have you been doing animation you've never told me before."

He just wants to learn more about you and saw this as the perfect opportunity.

Of course you answer them. But you only get half done.

You get a C and a week to redo. But you tell him you got an A.

Firebrand:

Cocky. Said he knew you'd ask him eventually so sure.

"How long do we do this for? I mean I have all eternity."

He stands less awkward and more confident.

Doesn't twitch but does like teleporting away when you aren't looking to do something else.

You catch him once. He laughs and promises he won't do it again. He does several times more but you don't catch him again.

You get an A- and boy he's fucking proud.

The observer:

Think Habits ego and Firebrands cocky attitude and you see why he agreed to this so fast.

He crosses his arms and does a wacky pose.

Which would be great.

But everytime you look back up he's in a slightly different pose.

"I'm not doing anything!"

You get an A because like Habit, he scares the shit out of your prof when he sees you almost got a D.

Milo:

Flustered but said yes because you asked so sweetly.

Hes tame and good at sitting still.

Has idle conversation with you the entire time. It's like a nice date.

"Can I see it when you're done?"

Of course you show him and he has stars in his eyes.

You get a B+ and Milo asks you all the time if you need a reference now.

Prebrand (As a treat)

Agrees to agree.

Cannot stay still.

Forgets why he's there so you have to consistently remind him.

Talks so fast you can't even understand what he's saying.

Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars.

You don't even finish the project and you get an F. :( Sorry babe.