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#i started writing this the day after i finished on command and then i got. distracted.
basilpaste · 2 months
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Stress Relief
(This fic talks a lot about death and panic attacks! Stay safe!)
this takes place directly after On Command! Read that first for context.)
You feel Loop's eyes on you the moment you're back. Burning into you like sunlight caught in a magnifying glass.
Your heart stutters in your chest as you struggle to catch your breath. That's a downside to doing things like this, then! Just because you loop doesn't mean your brain gets the memo. You force yourself to your feet, hand on your chest as you breathe deeply. You're okay! It's better than dying. Better than having to run for a tear and the sleepless dreams they bring.
Okay. Okay! You can learn to recover faster if you do it more! If you do it more! Who knows if you'll need to! But it's nice to have the option.
You still feel kind of shaken, but you'll put on a brave face. The worst of it is over.
You go through the motions, following the pattern as always. You think maybe Sif realizes something is wrong! But if they do they don't tell you. A part of you wonders if they think you'll tell them yourself. Would you have? Before this started?
… You don't think you want to answer that.
By the time you make it back to the favor tree, you're feeling a lot better! It helps that you're trained to stay calm under stress, but you also had plenty of time to cool down! So you're okay. And if you're not now, you will be! You'll be alright.
You shuffle over to your usual place on the roots and offer Loop a wave, "Hi, Elle!"
They. Don't say anything. They just look at you. None of the usual preamble. Loop just looks at you, eyes clouded over with more emotion than you've ever seen in them. They grip their arm so tight that you can see it leaving indents in their skin.
"Um." You look away from them.
"Fighter." They say after a long time. "You looped back."
"I… did, yes."
"Without a tear."
You suddenly envy Sif's ability to hide his face under a hat and cloak. You feel almost painfully exposed like this, with Loop's eyes boring into you. Their gaze stings.
"Without a tear." You agree finally.
And then they look mad. They look genuinely, aggressively, mad at you.
"What in the name of the stars do you think you're doing?!" They shout, jabbing a finger towards you accusatorially.
Despite yourself, you jerk back.
Wasn't it obvious? You kinda thought it was obvious! This was… a good thing! A way to loop without having to find tears or die!
"I figured… that if I can loop based on my emotions, it's for a reason, right?" You stare at the ground between the two of you, "If I can do that, it means I can use it!"
"So— so what, then! What! You. What did you even do, Fighter?!" They sputter.
You dig your nails into your palms, "… I mean. You saw, didn't you?"
"I saw! Oh, yes, I did see!" They shoot you a glare, "I don't understand, though! So! Walk me through it, Fighter! What. Did. You. Do?"
"It's emotions, right? Um. Not always. But… sometimes. If I feel bad enough or guilty enough. Like— like I can't go on."
They know this. They know this! You had an entire theory-crafting session where you learned this! There's something in the emotions, the feeling like things are over, that can make you loop!
They know this.
They haven't said anything.
"So I figured I could. Use that, maybe? If I felt, I dunno, hopeless enough. I thought I could make myself loop back." You shrug loosely, "… and I could."
"Why." Their voice shakes with it.
"It's better than dying!" You say quickly, "Better than dying! And it can be quicker than finding a tear. Less risk of worrying everyone!!"
"Why do you care? It's not like they'll remember! You'll just be looping back anyway!" Loop's voice travels up, becoming something high and sharp.
"It matters!" You counter.
"Does it?"
"It does!" You fold your arms over your chest, "It doesn't matter if they don't remember! Because I do! I don't want to see their horrified faces as I die or fling myself into a tear! Not ever again!"
You take a deep breath. You shouldn't shout.
"… Why do you care." You ask.
It's a terrible thing for you to ask. Cruel and mean and aggressive. You're mean, Isabeau. In this moment, you're mean.
"Hah!" They spit the laugh out like venom. "That's a funny question, Fighter. Because it has the same exact answer!! BECAUSE YOU WILL REMEMBER!!!"
They. Yelled at you.
Actually yelled at you, genuinely shouted. Have they ever done that before? They've raised their voice a few times, sure, but none of it was actually yelling. They look… scared.
"It's a better option." You tell them. You believe this. You have to.
"It's not!" They argue, "It really, really, isn't!"
"Why not?"
"Because — because I don't want you to!!" Loop shouts.
And then they still. They look away from you, trying to collect themself, "I mean. Because you shouldn't have to."
"I shouldn't have to do any of this." You say quietly, "It's a bad situation, right? And I shouldn't have to do this at all. But I'm here, and I can't get out if I don't try, Elle. And that means doing new things."
"Fighter." Their voice wavers. "You… understand what this will do to you, right? If you do this to yourself? It's. Dragging yourself to your lowest just to loop, it can't possibly be good in the long run."
You do your best to smile, your teeth clack together harshly. "Well!! I'll just have to make sure I don't have to loop again, right?"
"No." They shake their head once, firm, "I need for you to tell me that you understand. Or else I will not let you do this."
"You're not really able to do much in the House." You say.
And it's mean. Of course it is. But you need to have this out! So none of your friends see you hurt! You don't want to force yourself to loop like that, but it's better.
Loop brings their hand up to their face, flashing the hand sign they taught you. Their eyes narrow on you, sharp and dangerous. Like a dagger.
[I will yell in your mind until you're too distracted to continue. I will not let you do this unless you tell me that you understand.]
You're not stupid. Not like everyone assumes you are. Of course you understand. But it doesn't matter if you feel bad! As long as you protect your friends, as long as you keep your family safe! If you ruin your own mind trying to save them from this, that's okay! And if it's not it will be!
You'll make it okay!!!
"So?" Loop asks, aloud this time.
They couldn't stop you, you don't think.
And isn't it kinda nice? To feel all those things instead of choking them down? To just freehand something instead of following all the steps? If you never feel any emotion other than good ones it's bad! Like — what was that comparison you all made — eating your favorite food all the time!
Feeling bad can. Be good. This is easier than dying.
"I understand." You say eventually, "I know what might happen to me. But. I'm going to keep it in my back pocket. Just in case."
Elle looks impossibly sad. "Sunlight…"
You don't think either of you want to continue this conversation.
"..." They breathe out, putting on a smile, "What can I do for you on this wonderful new loop?"
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thinkingotherwise · 1 month
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I saw your post about Wind Breaker I was instantly hooked I was like FINALLY SOMEONE KNOW AND READ IT TOO….If can do you mind making a head canon about Jo Togame🙏. At this point I’m eating any crumbs that you left
Not to be biased but.. I love this man the most
Please Togame has the same VA as Shirosaki from 'My new boss is goofy' and I'm actually cryin' from laughter 😂 😂
Jo Togame making you his with your help
Spoilers for after the fight with Sakura
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- Togame was a mystery to you, you heard some of the people talking about him being the second-in-command in Shishituren.
- Because of the rumours you knew him as someone scary and tough, a thug if you will, and tried to avoid him as soon as you knew what he looked like, when one of your friends pointed him out in your neighbourhood.
- Later on, you got to know he visited the nearby public bathhouse, you were shocked at the discovery but still tried to keep your distance from him.
- Whenever you saw the familiar sunglasses and the Shishituren jacket you became nervous and tried to hide in one of the alleys or behind the parked cars.
- But as time passed, you might have been still scared of him but you found yourself seeking him out on the streets.
- You noticed him walking down the street more often, his face more relaxed than ever before and his hair loose.
- You thought he actually looked quite nice like that, the usual rigidness gone and a small smile from time to time appearing on his face.
- Little did you know the smile was caused by you and your failed hide 'n seek game. Once you almost tripped over your own feet trying to hide behind the corner of the street and he found it hilarious.
- The day you officially met him, it was in one of the most cliche ways. You stared at him so much you walked in the streetlamp making him openly laugh at you.
- Yet he still came to your side and helped you up, asking if you were alright. He also brought some ice from the nearby shop and iced your forehead.
- Thanks to that you started talking and noticed he was actually nice and you somehow got along well.
- After befriending him you spent your days meeting each other and you either eat takeout or play some board games.
- He loved eating food and would always compete with you for the last piece of whatever it was you ordered.
- And while he tried to teach you how to play go, he was so overjoyed. Only because you always lost and he liked to see you slowly getting irritated.
- Togame thought you made such cute faces whenever something didn't go according to your plans.
- He would sometimes let you win just so you wouldn't stop playing with him.
- Everything was going swimmingly between the two of you. You got along well, but there was one thing you couldn't stop. You started liking Togame a little too much.
- Your mind started to drift towards him too frequently for it to be only friendly.
- And well when you decided to finally ask him out on a real date, not a hangout as friends, you thought you would write him a letter. He seemed like the old-type guy always wearing those monk-like clothes so a confession letter seemed perfect in your opinion.
- Unfortunately, before you could finish the written confession and gather some confidence to share it with him, he came to you for another late-night meeting.
- He brought some takeout as usual and when you went to retrieve the board game you left him alone in your living room. And because of the shock of him coming unannounced, you didn't realize you left him with your feelings written on the paper.
- While waiting for you he found the crumbled papers lying in the corner and got curious picking one of them and straightening it.
- The moment you came back to the room you were shocked, to say the least, and you didn't know what to do. Frozen in place your eyes were stuck on Togame reading through one of your attempts at confession letters.
- "What are you d-doing?!"
- You stuttered your voice rising in nervousness.
- Togame turned to you a smirk evident on his face, he picked the paper up and showed it to you casually.
- "Oh, just reading this thing."
- Your heart was beating unusually fast and you gripped the board and the pouch you held tighter. You were so flustered, you didn't plan this. What were you supposed to do now that he read this?
- He laughed at your awkwardness and stood up, the paper still in hand he took slow steps towards you.
- "You've got some way with words."
- He said and your gaze fell to the floor. He then leaned over you.
- "If you are serious, I'd be glad to be your boyfriend."
- His voice sent a shiver through your spine and you gazed at his face surprised.
- You slowly nodded your head in a daze and he snorted grabbing at your shoulders and pulling you towards his chest.
- Togame kept his tight hold on you, one of his hands moving around your back and the other combing through your hair.
- You returned the hug dropping the things in your hands to grab at the jacket of Togame's keeping him close thinking it must be some kind of dream.
- But his warmth confirmed that it truly was reality.
- Just like that, he used the chance you gave him to finally make you his. And you just knew he would be such a good and loyal boyfriend.
Tags: @misticbullet
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hazbinwhoree · 3 months
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Hey I fell in love with your writing style, I wanted to know if you could write an Adam x reader with a shy S/O who is anxious about having their first time with Adam.
She is curious and takes off Adam's mask and tells him he is beautiful
Sorry if it's too long 💛🎸
Virginity
A/N: I got FOUR requests for Adam x a virgin reader, so here you go you fiends.
“Looking good today, babe, let me hit!” Adam called at (Name) as she walked by. Lute punched his arm. (Name) blushed bright red and walked a little faster. She wasn’t scared of or annoyed by Adam, in fact, she had the biggest crush on him, but she had no idea what to do about it.
Adam loved flirting with and catcalling (Name). Not just because he liked her, but because her reactions were just too funny. Last week he’d backed her against a wall and complimented her hair.
Well… “You have such pretty hair. I bet it’s as soft as it looks. How about you get on your knees and I can find out?” (Name) squeaked. Adam still laughed thinking about it. It was adorable the way she blushed so easily.
“Hey!” Adam caught up to (Name). “Want to commit a sin for your next confessional?” He made finger guns at her.
“What? Why would I purposely sin?”
That was another thing about her Adam loved. She didn’t understand dirty jokes.
So was the case for a few years before Adam found his little attraction to (Name) growing out of hand. When he wasn’t turned on by porn anymore, he knew he was screwed. He started jerking off to the thought that (Name) had never been touched and probably had never even touched herself. Maybe he had a bit of a virginity kink.
Unbeknownst to him, (Name) did touch herself, albeit very rarely and she never finished. And when she did touch herself, she imagined Adam, taking her virginity. She didn’t want it to be anyone else. She was sure that if she asked, Adam would say yes in a heartbeat, but she was way too shy to ever bring it up.
Lucky for her, Adam didn’t have the same inhibitions. After a week of jerking off to the thought of her, Adam pulled her aside one day.
“I want to have sex with you.”
(Name) blinked. Adam couldn’t have been more clear.
“I’m a virgin,” she finally responded, thinking it would deter him. He’d had a lot of sex, no doubt, so why would he want someone inexperienced?
Adam rolled his eyes. “Holy fucking shit, I’m sooo surprised.”
There was a moment of silence. Adam groaned, exasperated. “I still want to fuck you. Do you want to fuck me?”
“I mean,” (Name) was as red as a tomato. “I wouldn’t mind you being the one to take it…”
Adam grinned, pinning her against the wall. (Name) choked. ���I’ll see you tonight then,” he said sweetly, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her mouth. Then he was gone.
That night, (Name) was so nervous she felt like she might throw up. She was rethinking letting Adam be the one to take her virginity. Gentle wasn’t exactly a word anyone associated with Adam. But once she was outside his door, he opened it without her even knocking, and (Name) accepted that she was in it now. No going back.
“If you’re having second thoughts, you don’t have to do this,” Adam said, like he read her mind.
“No… no I want to, I’m just nervous.” (Name) blushed.
“Well I swear I’ll make it enjoyable for you.” He reached out his hand. “I’m the Dickmaster for a reason.”
(Name) laughed, taking his hand, and he led her to his bedroom.
(Name) was pleasantly surprised how clean Adam’s room was. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting but Adam didn’t exactly put off the vibes of having a clean room. It smelled nice too, like men’s soap and cologne.
What he did have was the stereotypical navy blue sheets.
But his bed looked comfy and he had ambient lighting, and he’d definitely set a nice scene for their upcoming activities.
Adam placed a hand on her lower back to gently push her towards the bed because (Name) found that her feet wouldn’t move when her brain commanded it. Heat spread pleasantly through her body at the contact and she briefly realized how touch starved she actually was.
(Name) sat on the edge of the bed while Adam went over to his nightstand and lit a candle. Then he came and sat next to her. “Again,” he said, “I don’t want you to feel like this is a fucking hostage situation. If you’re having any doubts, bail, I won’t be mad.”
He didn’t really seem to believe that she wanted to be there, so (Name) said the boldest thing she’d said in a while. “Kiss me.”
Adam grinned. “Fuck yeah.” He pulled her into his lap and connected their lips almost desperately. This would take a lot of restraint on his end if he didn’t want to scare her off. He was already hard just from her being in his lap.
(Name) was nervous when she could feel Adam’s erection against her thigh. But kissing him was more than enjoyable, so despite her nerves, she had no second thoughts. Adam ran his hands up her back under her shirt, gently stroking the base of her wings.
(Name) shuddered, gripping his shoulders. She was already wet.
Adam’s tongue invaded her mouth and (Name) moaned. To her dismay, Adam pulled back. “Damn, babe, you’re already this worked up and I’ve barely touched you.” (Name)’s face burned. “Shut up,” she scowled. Adam laughed, reconnecting their lips.
They made out for another minute before Adam stood, picking (Name) up with him, turning around and tossing her down on the bed before crawling on top of her. (Name) squeaked and Adam snickered.
He spread her legs and settled between them, covering her body with his as he pressed his lips to hers again. His hand sneaks up her shirt until he reaches her chest, groping her breast. He rolls a nipple between his forefinger and thumb and (Name) moans against his lips.
“Sensitive,” Adam teases. He’s pretty sure she hasn’t stopped blushing since they started. “Just tell me what feels good,” he told her, squeezing her tit. (Name) just nodded wordlessly. Adam took off his own shirt before pulling (Name)’s up and off to make her more comfortable.
“Are you going to take your mask off?”
The question caught Adam off guard. “I wasn’t going to,” he answered after a minute.
“Could you?”
Adam hesitates.
“Come on,” (Name) encourages. “If you’re going to take my virginity I want to see your real face while you do.”
That was a fair point. Reluctantly, Adam reached up and tugged his mask off.
(Name) had never seen him without his mask before, he wore it everywhere. He looked unsure and uncomfortable without it, but he was gorgeous. (Name) reached up and cupped his face in her hands.
“Pretty boy,” she cooed.
It was Adam’s turn to blush, but the compliment made him regain his confidence. He sat back to admire (Name) topless. “Pretty girl,” he retorted, staring at her chest. (Name) moved to cover herself but Adam caught her hands and pinned them to the bed.
Then he slid down so his face was between her tits, peppering them with kisses before taking a nipple into his mouth. (Name) gasped and her back arched. Adam smiled, sucking. He let go of her hands, which immediately found purchase tangled in his hair, and massaged the tit he wasn’t sucking on.
(Name) was making affirming noises as Adam continued his minstrations, only spurring him on. He released her nipple with a wet pop, and moved to the other one. One hand gently held (Name)’s head, while the other began to snake down her stomach towards her core.
He slid his hand under the waistband of her pants and over her underwear, dragging three fingers up and down. (Name) whimpered.
“Fuck, you’re already so wet,” Adam mumbled, releasing her tit. He leaned up and kissed (Name), sneaking his tongue past her lips.
He moved his hand to slide under her panties too and (Name) gasped at the feeling of his fingers against her bare pussy. Adam dragged his fingers up and down and (Name) almost accidentally bit his tongue.
One finger prodded at her opening, testing resistance. Finding none, he slid one slender finger into her. (Name) wasn’t even sure what kind of noise she made. Adam added a second finger and (Name) winced in slight pain. Adam waited a moment for her to adjust before beginning to pump his fingers in and out. His thumb put pressure on her clit.
It quickly became pleasurable, and Adam began scissoring his fingers. When he was sure she was loosened up, he added a third finger and (Name) winced. Three was a new stretch, but the pain mixed with pleasure. Adam leisurely pumped his fingers in and out, pulling out of the kiss so he could lean back and witness her expressions.
(Name) sighed, her body feeling better than it had ever felt in her life. “Adam,” (Name) breathed. Adam grinned. He loved hearing his name. He pulled his fingers out and pulled his hand from her pants, and (Name) whined at the loss.
“Patience,” Adam teased. He knelt back to pull down (Name)’s pants and panties. She crossed her legs once she was bare.
Adam quickly shed his own pants and boxers to keep them on the same level. (Name)’s eyes widened looking at his dick. She had no idea how she was supposed to take that inside her.
Adam smirked. “It’ll only hurt a bit. I’ll be gentle.” He grabbed her ankles and uncrossed her legs, pushing her knees apart.
(Name) felt a small thrill when Adam pressed himself against her. He looked so… angelic above her. He grinded against her and hissed, his self control waning. “Can I?” he asked, and it almost sounded desperate.
“Yeah.”
Adam smiled and lined himself up with her opening before slowing beginning to sink in. (Name) gasped, tensing up. “Relax,” Adam soothed. “It’ll be easier.” (Name) tried to relax her body. When she did, Adam pushed in further, and as hot pain spread through her groin, she had to focus on keeping her body relaxed.
She managed, and before she knew it, she felt Adam’s hips against hers and realized he had bottomed out. He stayed still, letting her adjust to the stretch. Her face was contorted in pain until he reached a hand down between them and began rubbing her clit. The expression of pain quickly morphed into one of pleasure.
The pleasure completely overpowered the pain and (Name) didn’t feel split in half anymore.
“I’m gonna move,” Adam warned her, his voice gravelly with the effort to remain restrained and not fuck her into the mattress.
(Name)’s arms wound around his shoulders, hands clawing at his back when he began to thrust. Adam held himself up with a hand next to the side of (Name)’s head, slowly rocking his hips. His finger was still circling her clit, so it didn’t take long for his thrusts to become pleasurable too.
“Faster,” (Name) panted. Adam didn’t need to be told twice, roughly snapping his hips. (Name) cried out in pleasure. “Adam!” Adam thrust quickly and deeply, leaning down to kiss (Name) when she cried his name. He kissed her sweetly, as if to make up for the rough pace.
He loved the missionary position because it allowed him to be able to look at her facial expressions while he fucked her. He pulled back to admire her for a minute, his hips never losing their pace. He stared into her eyes and (Name) held the intense eye contact.
Adam’s thrusts started to become sporadic, and he looked away, gritting his teeth. “Fuck, I’m close.” (Name) came suddenly, and how hard she tensed around him pushed Adam over the edge and he came right after her, burying his dick deep inside her and painting her womb.
“Shit, fuck,” he cursed through his orgasm, dropping his forehead against (Name)’s. “I love you,” he panted when he finished. His entire body tensed. (Name) just smiled, running her fingers through his hair. “I love you too.” Adam smiled, leaning down to kiss her.
When he pulled back from the kiss he finally pulled out, and (Name) felt liquids dripping down her inner thighs. Adam kissed her forehead before climbing off of her.
“Wait right here, I’m going to run us a bath.” He disappeared into his connected bathroom, and (Name) panted, coming down, while her ears picked up the sound of running water.
Adam returned a few moments later, scooping (Name) up and off the mattress, bridal-style. (Name) squealed, locking her arms around his neck. Adam lifted her like she weighed nothing. To him, she probably didn’t.
Adam carried her into the bathroom, where he’d drawn up a warm bubble bath. He stepped in, still holding (Name), and sat down, sinking himself and (Name) into the water. She sat in front of him, her back leaned against his chest.
Adam ran his hands up and down her sides before running over her breasts. (Name) shivered, her nipples perking up. Adam pinched them, and (Name) gasped, throwing her head back. Adam attacked her neck, sucking and biting, aiming to leave claim marks.
He pulled back and whispered in her ear, “Round two?”
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ast4tarion · 7 months
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pls pls pls pls PLEASE soft dom mike x reader PLEASE
please and thank you. im desperate if you cant tell.
also how tf you put pics in asks??? ive been on this app for 3 years and i have no idea i feel old
anyway have a good day and dont forgeg to stay hydrated, ily mwah!
SOFT DOM MIKE IS REAL im more into subby whiny Mike but i can totally see him being a super gentle dom because it comes from his nature to protect his loved ones <3 thank you for the kind words too I’m getting water just as I finish writing this :) (also I believe you can put pictures in with the squares next to the gif symbol on the lower bar on mobile!)
cws; soft dom!mike, sooooo much praise, gender neutral reader, a little bit of overstim
Soft words that you don’t even realize are commands because you’re just absolutely melting into them with him. Mike is super slow and tedious with his foreplay and is constantly praising you for humping his leg and being so good while he gets you ready.
He’s so gentle with you when you fuck that you forget how dominant he can be until he’s got you bent over the couch, mumbling that you’re so pretty for him and he’s gonna take care of you while you fully know he’s gonna thrust into you until your crying from how good it feels.
He’s primarily a very tender dom telling you things like sorry baby but you can’t touch yourself, I’m gonna do that for you and I’ll do it real good and I’ll make three fingers fit, you’ll feel so good honey relax
He’s not into any harder kinks but he’ll get a little ruthless sometimes, praising and kissing you so gently while he’s got you completely pinned to the counter fucking your cum back into you sloppily after four rounds straight and there’s so much that it’s dripping out of you and your whining and crying but he’s insisting you’ve got another around in you, maybe two
(He takes your boundaries very seriously, at a “yellow” he pulls it out and helps you match his breathing and takes as much time as you need, at a “red” he’s stopping straight away and he’s reaching for the nightstand where he’s got a water bottle and a snack ready for you)
You love that he’s so tender yet rough with you, that he can put you in so much painpleasure but praise you so much and when he starts coming undone and his thrusts get sloppy and his praise becomes “suchagoodfuckingbabyformeyouresoprettyineedyouineedyouyouretakingmesowellgodyourebeautiful”? Whatever surface you’re doing it on is SOAKED with your slick and when he cums he’s groaning in your ear and immediately wrapping you up in his arms
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juletheghoul · 2 months
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Castaways (Part 1)
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AN: Before I get into the notes for this - I want to say a quick thank you to everyone who took the time to send me a message / comment on my post, it meant a lot to me. 💜💜💜 As for this story, I started writing it in Sept of 2022, after watching the Harrison Ford movie, Six Days, Seven Nights lol. I had a lot of it down pretty quickly but eventually, I stopped. Now that new ideas aren't as bountiful as they once were, I started combing through all of the half-finished works in my docs and I fell back in love with this one. Hopefully you enjoy it. I have an ending planned out so there will definitely be a part 2! Shout out to @wheresarizona for betaing and just general wonderfulness, to @just-here-for-the-moment for screaming at me through comments in this doc. Enjoy xox. 
Pairing; Frankie Morales x f!reader (Princess as a nickname)
Warnings;  C o m p e t e n c y - a very brief snake…encounter?-piv sex (wrap it up), swearing, dirty talk, Frankie eats pussy with gusto (when doesn't he), creampie, longing, yearning, a helicopter crash (nothing too graphic), reader is spoiled at first and generally kind of snobby- enemies to lovers? Bit of a slow burn! let me know if I missed anything.
Word count; 13k 😅
reblogs are appreciated
Masterlist
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The click of your heels sounded throughout the airy hangar with a purpose, the echoing sound of it heralding your journey to give someone—anyone hell. 
A quick flick of your wrist reminds you how late you already were for the retreat booked in your private slice of paradise; the private jet your father paid a fortune for had made an emergency stop in Puerto Rico- some nonsense about a storm. 
Unacceptable. 
An imperious sigh leaves your mouth -not a single person to lay into anywhere in sight, and it leaves you no choice but to head outside to see if there is a plane you could commandeer. 
He wipes the grease onto the legs of his well-worn work coveralls, his previous scowl gone and replaced with a triumphant smile - finally got that fucking bolt off-
“Excuse me-” He turns toward the sound and is greeted by a very annoyed-looking woman. “Hi, do you know where I can find a pilot? There’s no one in the hangar.” She drags a very expensive-looking suitcase behind her with one hand, the other holding a ridiculously large hat onto her head. 
“Hi, yes I’m a pilot - most of the staff have gone home, a big storm coming soon-”
“Perfect, can I hire you to fly me to this island?” Her fingers flew across the no-doubt latest model of smartphone in her hands - ignoring the shocked expression on his face at being so rudely interrupted. “This one here, I need to be there like three hours ago, and I would be there now if we hadn’t stopped here - you know where this is, right? Can you take me?” She all but shoves the phone into his face. 
“No.” He carefully moves her manicured hand away from his face, and a tiny, cruel little part of him enjoys the shock in her expression - he very quickly gets the impression that this girl is not used to hearing the word. “As I was saying - everyone has gone home, a lot of people were grounded here, myself included. There is a big thunderstorm coming. Not safe to fly until it passes. Shouldn’t last too long - a quick squall - come back tomorrow, and I’ll happily fly you there.” He then turns to continue his work. 
“Money is no object, but I need to leave now,” she says it through a huffed breath, and his eyebrows raise. 
“And yet, my answer is still no.” He’s annoyed now. In truth, it was a fairly quick flight - he knew the island she’d shown him, had made the trip before, and it would be less than an hour, but her attitude was a black mark against her. Her phone trills then, a cheery tone, momentarily snatching her attention from him. 
“Hi, Dad, yeah, I know. I’m at the hangar, looking for a ride.” She taps her foot, and it sets his teeth on edge. “There is a pilot here, but he says he won’t fly me.” She narrows her eyes at him when he turns to look at her, listening to the other half of the conversation he wasn’t privy to. “I’ll tell him- Sorry-” She inspects his name tag, “Francisco, my father says if you get me to the island within the hour, he’ll make it worth your while. Name your price.” 
“I don’t know what part of it isn’t safe isn’t registering-” She raises her voice and speaks over him. 
“He’ll pay you ten thousand dollars.” Her tone is loud but bored. “Besides - the skies are gorgeous - I’m sure we can make it before anything happens.” She waits a moment, “Plus another five grand when you land. And you can have accommodations until tomorrow - room service, the works. Just please - get me there.” Her eyes are hopeful, and for a brief moment, he acknowledges how pretty she is, or - would be, if she wasn’t such an insufferable princess.
He knew he should have said no. Knew he should have turned her down and followed the guidelines, but that kind of money would change his life. Change their lives- it would have been insane for him to turn it down. 
“Fine.” He relents, shoving down the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “I’ll be your pilot. We’ll be out of here in ten minutes.” She almost jumps with joy, and he can’t hide the annoyed expression on his face.
“Done - okay, I’ll be there soon, Dad! Bye.”  
-
He was covered in grease. 
You had to remind yourself not to wrinkle your nose at him. You supposed he could be handsome, in a scruffy, working man way, but that's beside the point. He was your saving grace right now, and that counted for a lot.
He fiddles with the engine of the helicopter for a moment more while he leaves you to wrestle your suitcase in by yourself, thankfully without breaking a nail. 
“Alright - just going to perform a couple of checks, and we’ll be in the air.” He got in and began flicking switches, turning knobs, and checking over all manner of gauges while you made yourself as comfortable as was possible in the cramped little aircraft. It was hard, though, with your suitcase practically digging into your back behind you. 
It’s fine. I’ll just have to get a massage once I land.
“Okay, we’re off.” He has his headset on, and you are in the air within a few moments. That, unfortunately, seemed to be the end of your good luck. 
Whether by some cruel design, by the fates or gods, or whatever entity dictated the events of your life - it didn’t take twenty minutes in the air for the sky to turn a foreboding gray. 
“That doesn’t look good,” he says, the words loud enough to be heard over the noise, his eyes quickly scanning the horizon, no doubt taking in the dark clouds flanking either side of the already rickety helicopter. 
“It came out of nowhere.” One minute, the sky was blue, and the next, lightning forked the sky in the distance. 
“No, it didn’t - I told you a storm was coming. This is too dangerous - I’m going to have to turn around for our safety.” He maneuvers the controls, and you have no choice but to agree despite your annoyance.
It all happened so fast. 
Something strikes the aircraft, the sound of it booming in your ears so loud it hurts, and then he’s frantic. Manically pressing buttons and calling through the radio, but from the frustrated and frankly terrified expression, no one is answering. 
“Fuck, tighten your seatbelt, we’re going down!” He grits his teeth, and all of a sudden, you are spinning, a scream being ripped from your throat - your heart falling out of your ass. “Impact coming - brace yourself!” he screams before the world goes black. 
-
Someone is making noise, a low groaning noise that pulls him out from the depths of unconsciousness, he’s only mildly surprised to realize it is him.
The helicopter - his helicopter wasn’t making any noise, which was bad. 
Under normal circumstances, it would be broadcasting out a signal beacon that would bring in a rescue team, but as it stood right now - without blinking lights or a working radio - it had gone completely silent. 
Lighting must have fried it. Fuck.
He took stock of his situation. Luckily, he doesn’t feel any injuries aside from horrible whiplash. No blood, no broken bones. A softer groan comes from the woman beside him; she’s still out, and he couldn’t see any injuries- he’d know when she woke up. 
I could kill you right now.
He thought the words, sighing loudly to himself before finding a way out of the cockpit. He’d managed to move most of what he had in the helicopter out onto the sand by the time she woke. 
“Jesus Christ - what the hell happened?” She stumbles out, barely managing to stop herself from eating shit in the process, unfortunately.
“What happened is the storm I warned you about many times caught us in the air and grounded us here.” He’s laying out his supplies, lengths of rope, his toolbox, and empty water jugs. He has a small case with a flare gun, an emergency kit filled with first aid supplies, and a massive tarp. There are a few more things to go through, but it is important they find a source of freshwater soon, or they won’t last two days, especially with the heat making his clothes stick to his body.
She sighs loudly, struggling to make her way through the sand in those ridiculous heels she’s wearing
“And now we’re stuck here, on an island when, where I should be, is home with my-“ 
“Can’t you call mayday or something? My father is expecting me. I’m sure he’ll have an army looking for us.” She’s digging through her purse frantically, ignoring the scathing look he’s giving her.
Spoiled little brat, you only care about yourself, huh?
“Wow. You know what? That’s a great idea! Why the hell didn’t I think of that?” He can’t hold back. “Oh! I know, it’s because we were struck by lightning, and it fried everything, so whatever army your father sends won’t find us -there is no signal to hone in on.” He scowls at her, annoyed that she isn’t paying attention to him even now. “Doesn’t help that a lot of these islands that are usually full of tourists are uninhabited after the hurricane that hit a few months ago.”
“So we’re stuck here???” Her eyes are wild as they look past him, to the beach just beyond, and then to the thick greenery behind them. “This cannot be happening right now,” she spoke to herself. 
“Where the fuck is my phone??” She moves and makes her way back into the cockpit, all but ripping the aircraft apart before- “Fuck! You have got to be fucking kidding me! Don’t you have some kind of satellite phone or something??” She’s tapping at the deeply damaged screen, it completely destroyed. 
He couldn’t help but bark out cruel laughter. 
“I don’t know what planet you’re on. People - regular people don’t just have satellite phones, sweetheart.” He got up from his place in the sand, making sure to put the flares back in the helicopter.
“Great. Just great.” She sighs loudly, “So we’re stuck here. Do you even know where here is?” She fishes into her bag once more, pulling out a bottle of what looks to be sunscreen, and squeezing out some to spread over her exposed skin. 
“No. I don’t, but the heat is going to kill us if we don’t find water soon. Grab one of those jugs, and let’s go find water. You might want to change your shoes.” He pushes her suitcase at her, ignoring the shocked look on her face. “Chop chop, princess, let’s move.” 
-
This couldn’t be happening, this could not be happening!
Right now, you should have been mingling with Louis, the gorgeous, billionaire bachelor your father invited to your private resort. You could almost picture it, the classy yet sexy outfit you’d be wearing while you flirted over a drink by the infinity pool. Broadening your horizons and nailing down the rich husband you deserve.
Instead, you’re here - stuck in the sand with the world's grumpiest pilot, trying desperately to get your phone to work, but it’s no use. 
You can almost see the frantic look on your mother's face now that it was obvious that you hadn’t made it at the scheduled time, she and your father were probably coordinating with the military right this second, with the Navy.
What the fuck am I going to do-
The jug hits your lap, scaring you half to death.
“Come on, princess, let’s get moving. We have to find fresh water before we die of dehydration out here.” He’s standing a few feet away, staring at you with his perpetual scowl. “Change your shoes, and let’s go.”
“What’s wrong with my shoes?” They were pretty sensible as far as your sandals went, respectable heels, and relatively comfortable. His scowl deepens.
“You cannot stumble around the island in those, you’ll break an ankle, and I am not fucking dealing with that.” His eyes narrow. “Tell me you brought a pair of runners in that giant trunk.”
“Of course I did,” your tone is icy as you get up with a huff. You quickly changed into them, and then you were off. 
The terrain got more and more treacherous the further you got from the powdery white sand of the beach. Dirt and bramble gave way to thick, almost jungle-like vegetation, making the trek harder and harder as time slogged by. 
The sound of running water greets the two of you like a siren song, spurring your tired, sweat-soaked body to move quicker, and the sight that meets you once you break the dense treeline could've made you moan. You jump into the water to cool your heated skin, ignoring the warning from Francisco. 
“You should get out of there.” He’s at the edge of the clearish water, filling the jugs quickly.
He seems to be determined to infuse his sour attitude into everything, your mouth opened to tell him to relax when something brushes past your leg. At first, you think it might be a piece of underwater flora, but it becomes apparent very quickly that it’s something far worse. 
“Francisco.” His eyes met yours, “Francisco, something just swam into my shorts, I-I think it’s a snake.” Your voice trembles slightly, hands itching to pull whatever it was out, but his voice cuts through the urge.
“Don’t move- are you sure it’s a snake?” He put the jugs down beside him, moving closer to you, descending slowly into the water.
“Yes, It’s coiling around my thigh, moving up - I need it out right now, I wanna just grab it-“ Your head tilts down, but he stops you.
“Don’t move! It could be venomous.” He wades into the water towards you slowly, too slowly. Your heart’s racing, hands shaking as you wait for him to reach you.
“Help me, get it out, get it out!” your voice is almost manic, desperation colouring every single inch of you. 
“Okay, okay, calm - deep breath.” You followed his example as best you could, trying yet failing to ignore the slithering against your skin. “Slowly pull your waistband away from your body, and I’ll see if I can grab it,” his tone had lowered, a soothing timbre reminding you for a moment of how a teacher would speak to a student. 
It helps.
You did as he asked, pulling at the waistband of your shorts, all thoughts of propriety forgotten, and within a moment, his hand was shoved down deep - a rather large hand fighting with whatever it was that had made camp in your pants. 
He bit his lip in concentration, bodily pulling you towards him as he struggled. A moment later, he was raising it up triumphantly.
A huge shiver went down your spine at the sight of it, spurring you to get out of the water as fast as humanly possible. 
“Jesus Christ, it’s just one fucking thing after another,” you spoke as you made it out without incident, ignoring the huge sigh he let out behind you. “Thank you for that.” He was following closely behind you, not interested, it seemed, in having a similar experience.
“Don’t mention it. Let's fill these and get back to the beach.” He hands you a couple of empty jugs, and you reluctantly got to work.
-
All things considered, they were lucky. Frankie knew that. His helicopter - albeit small - was surprisingly well-equipped to handle being stranded. He had an emergency survival kit, purchased partly under the insistence of his mother but mostly so he never had to relive what had happened to him a few years ago. He’d tried not to think about it, but walking through the foliage back to the crash site had brought it all back. Vividly. 
He pushed it away, shoved it down deep where he kept the rest of his issues - instead choosing to focus on what they needed to do. They needed some form of shelter, and soon. 
“I am sweltering,” her voice was low behind him, whiny with the distinct tone of someone who had never truly been uncomfortable a day in her life. “Fucking starving.” 
“Most likely, you’re dehydrated. Once we get back to the beach, we can figure out the water,” he spoke over his shoulder. “Have to make camp if we’re going to be here for a while.” They broke through the treeline, seeing his helicopter on the beach like a pile of old bones broke his heart a little - his only connection to home, to his little girl. He pushes it all away again. 
“So how do we get this water drinkable?” she huffs out the words, dropping the jugs next to his laid-out supplies with great effort. 
“We have to set up a purifying system, filter it, and then boil it.” He crouches down towards his supplies, looking for something clean he could use as a sieve. Luckily, he always kept an overnight bag with him, in case of being grounded somewhere, but he only had three shirts in there, he couldn’t burn one since he didn’t know exactly how long they’d be stuck there. 
“I don’t have much in terms of clothes - you got anything we could use?” He looks up at her, “Something simple, a cotton t-shirt? Something we could use to strain the water.” He walks towards her trunk, waiting for her to open it up. 
She opens it reluctantly, rifling through her things for a moment before handing over a simple white shirt. “Any chance I’ll be able to wear that again?” her voice is vaguely annoyed. 
“I’m sure Daddy won’t mind buying you a new one.” She gives him an expression that could curdle milk. He ignores it. Instead, he busies himself, setting the jugs of water somewhere relatively level. He felt her eyes on him, and it compelled him to explain what he did as he worked. “We have to let the water settle for about an hour, let the sediment sink to the bottom, then strain it, then boil it.” Not for the first time in his life, he was happy to have his military gear within reach. 
-
He works fast - you have to give him that. 
As much as he grumbles and looks at you like you are the devil incarnate - you couldn’t deny that he was incredibly intelligent. Within a few hours of getting back to the camp, he had built an impressive fire, filtered the jugs of water, and had boiled most of it. 
“Tomorrow, we’ll get to work building some sort of shelter,” he spoke after he finally sat down, the first break he’d taken all day. “Have to go about looking for food too, I saw some fruit trees - we’ll grab them on the way back from getting more water.” His eyes are heavy, you can see it in the way he blinked slower and slower. 
“We have to make that trek again?” your voice is shrill, he sighs loudly. 
“We’ll have to make that trek every single day until we’re rescued. Water is the most important thing. No delivery service here, princess,” his voice is sleepy, the usual bite in his words softened by the need for sleep. 
“How will anyone find us?” The worry is evident in your voice.
“I have a flare gun and three flares - we’ll be able to signal someone. Go to bed, we have a lot of work to do tomorrow.” He gestures to the helicopter–lovely, this will be comfortable. 
The knock on the helicopter window ripped you out of sleep, your heart racing as you clutched at your chest. 
“Wake up, princess.” He taps on the glass and through bleary eyes, you take note of the smile on his face as he wakes you up, “We have work to do.” He taps one last time and then leaves you. 
You flash him the middle finger as he turns and laughs, annoying you even more.
You join him on the beach a little later, ignoring the ache in your body from sleeping in a half seated position. God I really need that massage.
“I’m going to make the trek for more water, while I do that you are going to gather palm fronds.” He had a jug in his hand as he moved towards the treeline. For a moment you panicked, the thought of being alone causing your heart to sink. 
“Wait, you’re leaving me alone?” You moved a few steps towards him, catching yourself before making it to him. “I mean–um,” You raised your chin at the surprised look on his face, ignoring it. “How many fronds?” There was an abundance of them, both on the ground and in the trees just beyond the sand. He paused, giving you a curious look. 
“As many as you can, we’ll need way more than you think.” He turned then, and left you to it. 
Time crawled by while you were alone, with only your thoughts and the sound of waves to accompany you. Sweat dripped down your brow as you gathered, gathered and gathered some more. Enough fronds that it made a huge pile beside the fire pit Francisco had made. Your stomach growling almost constantly now–the hunger so intense it was making you light headed. 
Branches snapped, drawing your gaze towards his form. He had the jug in one hand and a stalk of bananas in the other. It was enough to make you moan. 
“This is good, but it’s not enough. We have to gather more - have to cut down a bunch of bamboo too.” He put the jug next to the others before joining you where you sat. “Here, you must be starving.” He ripped off a handful of the glorious fruit and tossed them into your lap. 
Nothing had ever tasted so good. 
“Jesus Christ, I thought I would pass out.” You knew you had fruit on your face, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. “Thank you.” You peeled another, eating it just as quickly as the first. 
“Don’t mention it. Okay, let's get to work.” 
-
Your fingers were sore, your back was sore, every single part of you was sore. Hours crawled by with the sun beating down on you both as you weaved fronds together. He had you create sheets and sheets of it, had you help him cut down enough bamboo to build a house. He did the heavy lifting and made what looked like a crude rope tying together the bamboo in layers strong enough to hold both of you. 
Wordlessly, he worked, the sweat dripping down his face, soaking through his shirt like a marathon runner until it was a hindrance and he took it off, used it as a rag that hung limp over his shoulders. This was much worse than a marathon, though, much worse than any workout you’d ever done in your life, and although you’d never say it out loud, you were incredibly thankful he was here. 
I probably would have died by now. 
It was a terrifying thought that without him, you wouldn’t survive - you shoved it away. It wouldn’t matter soon because your parents would be looking, and they wouldn’t stop until they found you.
“Come lay on this, I want to see if it’ll hold both of us.” He stood over the platform, laying on it as you came closer. It held. “Perfect. We’ll be elevated off the sand, less chance of bugs or crabs biting us, and it’ll be cooler than the helicopter.” He let out a weary, tired sigh.
“You’re expecting us both to sleep on this?” You couldn’t help your tone, and instantly you felt bad. He’d worked very hard on this. His brow furrowed. 
“You’re welcome to sleep where you want. I’ll be on this.” He got up, his scowl now back in place, “I’m going to finish here and then go fishing. Keep weaving.” 
Quietly, you got back to work.
-
In all his years, Francisco had never met someone so spoiled and self-serving - even though he’d expected it from her, it still hurt. He didn’t know why - why it would matter that some spoiled rich brat was acting like a spoiled rich brat; maybe it was the lack of gratitude. He was useful, he was smart and he had skills that he knew for a fact she’d die without. 
He stewed over it as he swam towards a large boulder protruding out of the water near the shore. A perfect spot to catch the fish that swam around in the reef below the surface. 
I should let her starve. Find her own food and her own water.
He wouldn’t, though, he couldn’t. All his life, he’d been taught to be a good person, to help where he could and after what had happened in that jungle - he shook it off, pushed it down. Ignored the cruel, petty voice in his head and set about catching something to eat. All the while keeping an eye on the horizon for a boat - for any sign that people were looking for him. That his people were looking for him. 
He let himself think about them, really think about them for the first time since the crash. His parents, his little girl, let himself feel the emptiness of being without them. He let the waves of it crash over him just as the ocean around him crashed into the shore, and then he put it away. 
She was still working when he came back with his catch, her face scrunched up in concentration - ignoring her, he went about doing what needed to be done.
“Is this enough?” Her voice cut through his concentration, and he nodded noncommittally - leaving the prepped fish on a relatively clean piece of driftwood he’d found.
“Hold this.” He stood at the corner of the raised bed and had her hold a tall, sturdy piece of bamboo. His plan was to make a small frame around the base, use the tarp in order to waterproof it, and lay the fronds all around to protect them from the winds that blew through here in bad weather.  
She watched him work in silence, standing where he told her to stand, holding what he told her to hold and eventually, finally - they finished. It was as solid a structure as he could manage without planks of wood or nails, strong enough to survive against a moderate storm and to keep them off the sand. 
He’d used the tarp to cover the roof and three sides, leaving one open for them - him to enter. On top were rows of fronds to catch rainwater and prevent it from pooling in the tarp, the rest of the unused woven sheets she’d made laid inside to use as bedding. With the emergency blanket and his military bedroll this would make a decent bed.
All in all, he was proud of himself, he took the raw materials he’d found on this island, and fashioned himself – themselves a shelter. 
His stomach growled. It was time to start that fire.
-
Your stomach was screaming out in hunger. The bananas had been wonderful, but they weren’t enough. 
“Are you sure that’s safe to eat?” You watched him wrap the fish in banana leaves and put it into red hot embers; you couldn’t help but be slightly dubious about eating something he’d just pulled out of the ocean. He sighed loudly before answering.
“You don’t have to eat it,” he sounded tired, and you supposed he must have been with how hard he’d worked. “It’s edible. I’ve caught this fish before.” He wiped at his brow with the shirt around his shoulders, his skin slightly pink from the sun. 
You didn’t say anything, still unsure, but when the time came for him to unwrap the blackened leaves, your stomach growled loudly. It looked very good. 
He didn’t offer any, instead, he snatched a piece of the steaming, flaky fish and popped it into his mouth, relishing the taste with a loud groan and a big smile. A nice smile, in truth. 
“Maybe I’ll try a little bit.” You scooted closer to where he sat in the sand, unable to resist it.
“Here, careful - it’s very hot.” He tore a piece of a fresh banana leaf and gave you a decently sized filet, and with singed fingers and zero patience, you took a bite.
It was, without a doubt, the most delicious thing you’d ever eaten. 
“Good?” He ate quickly, his expression amused at your very obvious enjoyment of the ‘dubious’ fish. 
“It’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever had.” You meant every word, and licked every last morsel off your fingers.
It was incredibly dark by the time the food was eaten, and the fire had died out. Francisco was attaching a piece of netting to the open side, and once he was done, he climbed in without another word. 
The helicopter felt safe, enclosed and a space you could lock, but the shelter would have airflow. It would be infinitely cooler to sleep in. You knew that, eventually that helicopter would turn into a greenhouse that felt more like an oven. Not to mention how horrible it was to sleep sitting up. 
Every second that passed made the shelter look more and more appealing, and after quickly changing into clean clothes, you slipped in silently, but it didn’t even matter, he was already asleep.
He woke to the feeling of soft breath on his back, the air was significantly cooler than it had been during midday, and now, in the early dawn of the morning she was seeking him out for warmth. It was in him to pull away, to deny her, but instead, he stayed motionless. Let her even breath comfort him for a few moments before he eventually rose to bathe in the ocean. Her hand was draped around his middle, pressing herself flat to him while she slept, completely oblivious.
He thought about how scandalized she’d be to know she was being so intimate with him; it almost made him laugh, but soon, that internalized mirth shifted to something bitter, something close to anger. He was only too aware that when she looked at him, she saw ‘the help’; someone like her could never see him as anything other than someone else to pay off, the person hired to do things below her. She shifted in her sleep, burrowing closer, her soft puffs of air ruffling the hair curling at the base of his skull. 
Why does that bother me? I don’t even care about this person.
He sighed, confused with himself over these baffling feelings of inadequacy, frustrated that being close to another person felt good. Annoyed that he didn’t want to pull away - no matter how much of a brat she was. If she woke now and saw them tangled, she’d be embarrassed, perhaps even disgusted, he knew this for a certainty. So he left her.
-
Dawn found you almost frustratingly well-rested, as well as alone. All doubts that may have lingered about the craftsmanship of the shelter evaporated like the morning dew. A long, much-needed stretch is the catalyst that moves you out of the shelter, making sure to close the netting on your way to grab your toiletry bag when he catches your eye from his place in the water. The early morning sun lit up the surface like diamonds. He was running his hands through his hair, wringing out the shirt he’d been wearing the day before. His skin was golden, the high planes of his face kissed by the sun's rays, his shoulders too. You watched him for a time, unable to ignore the breadth of his shoulders - the pleasant sight of his thighs and it was hard not to stare at him when he rose out of the water, the droplets from his golden skin casting a sort of spell on their way back down to earth.
His hands were something else altogether, weaving their own magic the closer he came to shore, from the way they wrung out the shirt easily to the way they adjusted his considerable bulge as he walked, and you looked away quickly, ignoring the curious heat crawling up your chest. 
He found you brushing your teeth, pointedly looking away. 
“I’m going to go look for more fruit.” He spoke as he put the wrung-out shirt to dry next to some of the other things he’d washed before changing out of his wet boxers behind the cover of the helicopter. “You should gather more firewood, things to burn for tonight.”  When he came back around, he was dressed in a clean white tee and a pair of shorts. Looking for all the world like a man on vacation. 
“I’m coming with you.” You rose from your place in the sand quickly, shuffling to reach him before he left you. “I’d rather not wait around.”
“Fine, come on then.” With that, you both set off into the trees.
The morning was full of birdsong and sunlight, bright buttery shafts of it cutting through the trees while the former echoed around you. 
“This would be a gorgeous place to vacation.” He echoed your thoughts as you followed a faint path in the brush. 
“I guess, would need a vast improvement.” Like a hotel, and an actual landing strip maybe. He laughed low, his eyes looking high into the trees.
“I don’t know, I don’t mind it being a bit rustic.” He pointed ahead, a few coconut trees catching his attention.
“This is more than a bit rustic I’d say. God I can’t wait until my parents find me. I should be by the pool right now, mingling with Louis.” Your palm smacks against the first of surely many bites rising on your skin. 
“That your boyfriend?” He’s serious now, scooping a couple of coconuts from the floor and dropping them into your arms.
“No, but he should be. He’s an insanely wealthy man my father invited to our private island, where I should be right now.” You sighed loudly, annoyed at the situation all over again. “Soon. Soon, I will be back where I belong. God, my mother is probably worried sick, you know?” You stood there, holding onto the coconuts he stacked in your arms before moving on to find more fruit.
“Sure.” He all but grunts, moving carefully through the brush. “I get it-“
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the military is out searching for me right now.” An image of handsome Louis frantically joining the search with your parents makes your stomach flip. 
I wonder if he is worried about me?
“Focus.” His voice rips you out of your daydream. “Let’s grab some more bananas, and head back.” He seems annoyed - he’s always annoyed.
“I hate this.” Your arms ache from holding the heavy coconuts. “Shouldn’t we be building a signal fire or something?” You can hear the whining tone, but you can’t stop it. Must everything be so hard?
“And just what are we meant to signal? Seen a bunch of planes, have you?” His tone is icy, his expression angry. “Cruise ships sailing by us every hour?” He finds a banana tree and cuts down a stalk, his movements aggressive.
“Well no-“
“Exactly. We’re on our own, which means until the military or whoever is looking for you finds this island- we have to work.” He props the bananas against his shoulder and turns back towards the camp, pointedly ignoring the way you struggle to keep up with him. 
-
You’re already covered in sweat by the time you make it back to camp, breathing hard and soaking through your clothes.
“Jesus Christ, I cannot with these things.” You dump the coconuts next to the water jugs, shaking out your aching limbs. He sets the bananas next to them before moving to grab some firewood from the tree line. Your eyes scan the beach, the waves gently lapping at the shore; it would be pretty enough without the eye sore that is the helicopter.
“I cannot wait to be away from this hunk of junk.” His movements stop at your words.
“That hunk of junk was my entire fucking livelihood. I don’t have a rich daddy to just buy me a new one.” He tosses the wood pieces angrily into the pit, ignoring the recoil his tone inspired. “Not everyone has it so easy, princess.”
“No, I guess they don’t, sorry-“ he spoke over you.
“Forget it.” He let out a sigh. “Let’s just do what we can to survive until someone finds us.” His expression was cold, and you can’t help the guilt that blooms in the pit of your stomach.
“Sounds good.” The rest of the day passed by in silence.
The days both fly, and crawl by and Frankie works each and every one of them. He works to find them food, he works to reinforce their shelter - to make them as comfortable as he possibly can, all while trying his hardest not to lose his mind. The picture of his little girl burned a hole in his heart when he looked at it each night. He only hoped she knew he’d come back to her.
Being stuck on an island by himself would have been bad enough; the loneliness, the isolation would no doubt be detrimental to his mental health, to his hopes of being found, but this? This had to be worse.
She helped, but only because he pushed her to. He knew that if it were up to her - they would have long since starved. He watched her as he braided more palm fronds to pad the sleeping platform, she was washing some of the clothes she’d worn as best she could, and he couldn’t help but admit that she was pretty. Her face was pleasant to look at when her nose wasn’t turned up. He can’t help but like the shape of her, imagining her skin would be soft and silky - he’d definitely been on this island too long. 
Doesn’t matter how attractive she is, she doesn’t want you, and you don’t want her.
He didn’t know if he was reminding himself, or convincing himself. 
A noise in the treeline behind him stops him mid-braid and for a moment, he thinks there might be someone else on the island, but he realizes what it is and grabs his knife. If he plays this right, tonight they’d eat like kings. 
-
A new appreciation was born of having to wash your own clothes, for electricity, for washing machines and dryers, for Tide pods. For the maids who did your laundry and for the people who did your drycleaning, for the neat drawers full of clean clothes waiting at home. 
For now, these would have to do. They wouldn’t smell like your favourite fabric softener, but they’d be clean enough to wear here at least. Francisco had set up a makeshift laundry line from the helicopter to a leaning palm tree, his things hanging as you added your own, and you briefly considered folding his things for him when his absence caught your attention. 
“Francisco?” you called out to him, ignoring the way your heart raced. Usually, when he went off to get water or fruit, he let you know; it was unlike him to leave without a word. There had to be a reason. He wouldn’t just abandon you, would he? 
Grab a hold of yourself, where the hell would he even go?
He crashed through the trees, triumphant and laughing, and you shoved away the altogether too-big feeling of relief that washed over you to see him. 
“Good news, Princess, there’s wild boar on the island.” It was the happiest you’d seen him, well, ever. “It’ll be hard, but I think I can catch one.” He was making his way towards his supplies, and very quickly, the relief turned to dread. “We’re going to feast-”
“You’re going to kill a wild pig?” It was very hard to keep the worry out of your tone, or off your face. 
“What’s the matter, never had pork chops?” He frowned now, his hands on his hips facing you. 
“I mean, yeah, but this is a little different than going to a butcher and grabbing a few chops. You’re going to hunt down the animal and kill it? I’m not into that. I don’t know if I could eat it.” He narrowed his eyes at you, no doubt preparing to rip you a new one. “It’s also incredibly dangerous - they have a tendency to gore people.” His expression changed at that, real consequences seemed to get through to him. 
“I mean, it’s not that different, but fine.” The wind had gone out of his sails, “I’ll see if I can catch something in the water - you okay with that?” He grabbed his fishing gear, raising an eyebrow, and you nodded before he made his way towards the water. You knew he was probably cursing you for ruining whatever he imagined cooking, but still, you couldn’t help but consider it a victory. 
Babe, the pig wouldn’t be dying on your watch, and neither would he. Instead, he returned to the camp a few hours later with a fish, a few crabs, and a look that said you better not have any complaints. You didn’t. None that you’d say out loud anyway.
Dinner was a quiet affair, tasty and filling with the fish and the added protein; you both went to sleep full, and ungored. 
-
Something loud dragged you up and out of the haze of sleep. It was still dark, and the sun had not risen yet. The sound was definitely something loud - probably just a plane. You shot up, scrambling out of the shelter to see if what you were hearing was real, Francisco barely moved. 
It was high up, but it was definitely a plane. 
“Francisco! There’s a plane. Where are the flares?” You all but barrelled into the shelter to shake him out of his dreams. 
“Hmmm, tired baby.” He was out of it but strong when he pulled you closer - you ignored the way your stomach flipped on its ass at his pet name. 
“Francisco, let me go, there’s a plane!” You smacked at his face lightly, just enough to wake him up.
“Huh? A plane?” your words broke through his sleep-addled brain, and he shot up. “What kind of plane?” He was out and grabbing at his bag momentarily before he swore loudly, a sigh filling the quiet of the dawn. “You called me for a commercial plane? You didn’t actually fire a flare, did you?” The blood drained from his face momentarily.
“No, I would have, but I didn’t know where you put the flare gun.” You frowned at him, annoyed. “I thought they’d see it.”
“Thank Christ.” He took a deep breath, his hands on his hips, “That Is a commercial flight, and if you’d fired the flare, it would have not only been a waste of a flare, but you could have burned the shelter down, could have ruined our supplies.” He seemed angry, and that, in turn, pissed you off. 
“I didn’t think about that, I was trying to help-“ You crossed your arms, ignoring the annoyed look on his face.
“With the altitude that plane has, it wouldn’t matter if we had a thousand flares; come to me before you try to signal anyone, got it Princess?” He didn’t wait for a response, instead, he got back into bed and didn’t mention the incident again. 
You got back into the shelter, laying in the pre-dawn glow - conflicting feelings fighting for dominance within you. You stared at his back, at the soft curl of hair he wore like a halo, and the fluttering of your stomach won out for just a moment. The solid press of him holding you close while still asleep was strangely welcome, although you’d never admit it. His condescending tone came to mind then, he had a habit of speaking down to you, and while you could admit you weren’t the most knowledgeable in survival, you still deserved to be spoken to like an adult. 
You fell asleep fighting the urge to both press yourself close, and smack him upside the head.
-
When morning well and truly came, it found you both in a terrible mood. 
He was quiet, much like he always was when he was annoyed, so you left him with his thoughts and set off to find more fruit through the path you’d both taken to traveling every few days. Luckily, the island was bountiful, and there were plenty of bananas, coconuts, and even some mangoes, but there was only so much you could take and you decided to venture out a bit further, keeping your eyes peeled for something different. 
After a while, you found a berry bush, a small variety you didn’t recognize at once, but they were a very gorgeous, deep purple colour. Thinking he might appreciate a change as much as you, you picked a few handfuls and wrapped them up in a banana leaf before continuing your scavenging. 
This was where your luck ran out, however, and if there were other varieties of fruit, they weren’t for you to find. Instead, you picked up a few mangoes and a coconut on your way back. 
You found him looking through his things from the helicopter, a scowl on his face. 
“Hey, I found some berries-” He looked up at the sound of your voice, his brow furrowed at the smile on your face. “I figured you were probably getting sick of the same fruit we’d been eating. I was hoping to find something else, but no luck.” You set them down in front of him. 
“You didn’t eat this, did you?” his voice was curt and you frowned. 
“No, I thought we could share them-”
“These are toxic.” He tossed them into the sand, burying them with a heavy sigh. “Do me a favour and don’t grab shit you don’t know for sure is edible. You could have made us really sick.” He turned then and continued with his inventory. Embarrassment and annoyance burned through your veins. 
“You don’t have to be such an asshole about it, you know.” The words came on almost by themselves, bubbling up in your throat at the sanctimonious look on his face. 
“What?” He paused and turned to look you in the face. 
“You don’t have to be so fucking mean to me all the time.” You crossed your arms, holding in the frustration that seemed to expand in your lungs like a horrible balloon. “All you do is talk down to me. I said I was sorry about almost using the flare-” He huffed out an almost amused laugh and it boiled your blood. “It’s not funny! I’m stuck out here with you and all you do is yell, or talk to me like I’m stupid. I’m a person, and I deserve basic human decency-”
“What’s my last name?” He crossed his arms, his voice calm, but his question stole the words right out of your mouth. 
“What?” 
“You heard me - what is my last name? What do you know about me? Aside from the fact that my first name is Francisco, and that I’m a pilot.” He stood, knocking the sand off his shorts. 
“I don’t think you told me-”
“No, I haven’t - do you know anything about who might be looking for me? Do you have any idea if I have anyone waiting for me to get home?” Your stomach sank, the anger slowly bleeding away and being replaced with shame. “Any idea if I’m married, or if I have kids?” He’s angry now, the scowl bigger than ever before. 
“No, I-I don’t know.” You took a step back. 
“No. No, you don’t. You don’t know that I’m divorced, that my parents are probably worried sick. You don’t know that I have a daughter, that her name is Tatiana, and that she’s probably thinking her dad abandoned her, or worse - that he’s dead.” You recoiled at that. 
“I didn’t know you had a daughter.” Your voice feels small, and the shame in your belly grows, vines of guilt wrapping themselves around your throat.
“How could you? You’ve never fucking asked me a single thing about who I am as a person! All you’ve done is complain. Complain and talk to me endlessly about how much money your parents have, how you should be on a private island, and how much of a fucking eyesore my livelihood is, and any time I’ve opened my mouth to respond or explain how we’re both stuck here, you’ve spoken over me.” His words cut at you - you don’t know this man at all, and you never ever cared to ask. You don’t respond. 
He was well and truly angry now, kicking sand away from himself in his frustration. 
“I’m sorry-” He put his hands up. 
“Don’t. I don’t need you to apologize. I need you to pull your weight, and maybe realize that I’m also a person, and that all your money means jackshit to me. I need you to treat me like a human being, not just a sounding board.” He walked away, leaving you with your guilt - a sad balloon deflating alone.
-
They were both quiet that night. With Francisco, it was mostly out of anger. The feelings of inadequacy and frustration he’d been bottling up had finally been spoken aloud, and now he was processing them, all while still being stuck on this godforsaken island.
For her, he could see it was pure guilt. From the subdued expression, from her quiet words and general withdrawal, he knew no one had ever been so honest with her before. He would have almost felt guilty, if he hadn’t been so annoyed and hurt at the way she’d treated him. Instead, they both avoided each other for the rest of the night - a silent shared meal before wordlessly falling asleep in the shelter.
He woke the next morning to the feeling of her pressed against him again.
Her deep, even breaths against the back of his neck were embarrassingly welcome, and he ignored the way his body responded. He let out a low, deep sigh, grateful that he was facing away, a shudder passing through his body at the thought of having to explain why he was as hard as a rock. 
His hand traveled down to where her leg was draped over his hip, unable to resist feeling her skin for just a moment before he slowly untangled their limbs, and made his way towards the water. 
Days passed, and they passed without much conversation. This particular morning was somehow even more quiet despite the constant sound of waves lapping at the shore. The anger had fizzled out, and what was left was more akin to silent resignation. The two of you danced around each other, performing what were now everyday tasks without uttering a single word. The hours slipping by wordlessly, that is, until your scream cut through the silence. 
“What is it?” He was at your side quickly, his eyes wide with something that looked suspiciously like worry. 
“I think I stepped on a shell-” The sand around your foot was turning pink, your eyes widening at the sight.
“Okay, take a deep breath and sit here-” He guided you with surprisingly soft hands towards one of the logs around the burned-out fire. “Don’t move - try to keep your foot out of the sand.” He stood then, walking away.
“Where are you going?” Your voice sounded strange, almost whiny, and you ignored the little pang of despair. 
Get a hold of yourself.
“Just going to get the first aid kit.” The cut throbbed as you waited, and soon he returned with one of the water bottles and a big red case. He walked with purpose, the look on his face shamed you to have been so clueless. This was a man that had obviously dealt with many a scraped knee. “Okay, let's see what we’re dealing with.”
He kneeled on the sand before you, taking your foot into his hands. You hissed when he softly brushed the sand away.
“Tsk, come on now Princess. I know you can be braver for me than that.” His hands were soft, and so was his tone, and it filled you with something, comfort amongst other, less wholesome thoughts. You shook them away, chewing on your bottom lip, watching as he played nurse. “Nothing too crazy, just a little cut.” 
He rinsed the sand carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration. 
“Okay, this might sting a little.” He rifled through the open case beside him, grabbing a little pack of what looked to be antiseptic. “Deep breath for me.” He watched you then, waiting until you let the breath go before wiping the wound clean. The sting almost slapped you across the face, every instinct screaming to pull your foot away from the mean man. 
“Okay, okay - you’re okay.” his hands engulfed your ankle, holding you firmly in place. “Good job, we’re almost done.” he spoke low, opening up a waterproof bandaid and carefully covering the tiny wound. “There we go. All done.” He pressed a small kiss to the top of your foot, his eyes widening after. “Sorry- force of habit.” He laughed awkwardly. 
“Thank you. It feels much better.” You felt the heat in your chest and in your ears and ignored it, ignored the whole mess of feelings blooming in your gut for him. 
“Yeah, sure.” He collected his things before scratching at the back of his neck and it thrilled you to realize that he looked as flushed as you felt. “I’m going to go catch something.” He got up quickly, moving with purpose away from where you sat, curtailing any further discussion. 
-
He hadn’t expected it, but she’d taken his words to heart. He’d felt terrible after going off on her. The embarrassment on her face at how she’d treated him, although completely warranted, pulled at his heartstrings. He couldn’t exactly say why - it wasn’t something he could explain, not something he wanted to delve into. Whether that was for his benefit or hers, he couldn’t be sure. 
She no longer had to be told to fetch fruit, or water. She did her best to keep the camp organized, she no longer spoke about her wealth, or Louis. She was quiet most of the time, in fact, and he wasn’t sure if it was better, or worse. 
Where she mostly avoided his annoyance throughout the day, she still clung to him at night. He never told her, convincing himself it was to spare her further embarrassment, ignoring the little part of him that knew it was because he was terrified that if she knew, she’d stop. 
-
Things were different, that was for sure. The days passed and you had to admit to yourself that you’d been such an ungrateful, horrid little - well, Princess. He’d been completely right about you, and he’d had the patience of a saint. You saw him with different eyes now. You saw a competent, strong, intelligent man who up until now, was the only reason you’d survived on this godforsaken island as long as you had. It was well and truly humbling. 
Instead of complaining, now you did your best to pull your weight. The goal was to show him that you were grateful, that you weren’t just some spoiled rich girl, that you could be something other than that, anyway. You wanted - needed to prove to him that you weren’t a burden. 
-
It had been a particularly hot day, the sun beating down on the both of you with a vengeance. Sunset couldn’t come fast enough, and once it did, you cherished it like never before. 
He dug around in the helicopter while you sat on the log, enjoying the tiny, but very welcome breeze coming off the water. 
“Oh wow, I forgot about this,” You heard the smile in his voice, “How would you feel about a drink?” He held a bottle in his hand, making his way over to your place in the sand. 
“I’d feel great actually, if you don’t mind sharing.” 
“Bottle’s almost full, more than enough for both of us.” He sat next to you, taking a generous sip of the amber liquid before handing it to you. It was warmer than you would have liked, but the burn was pleasant enough that you didn’t care. “Good, right?” His smile is as breezy as the ocean, and just as welcome. 
“Very good,” you couldn't help but admit before taking another long sip, “I can already feel it.” You smiled, handing it back to him. 
“We’ll be cheap drunks tonight, that’s for sure.” He took another long swallow, and you couldn’t help but stare at the way his throat worked. You watched the fire instead, focusing on the embers as the drink settled in your stomach. The heat spreads through your limbs, making you feel heavy where you sit beside him. 
You both sat in silence for a time, passing the bottle back and forth until most of it was gone, and your head felt like a balloon barely tethered to your body. 
“This would be such a beautiful place…without the whole ‘being stranded’ thing.” He held the bottle loosely, his eyes no doubt taking in the gorgeous sunset.
“You mean you don’t love being stuck out here with me?” You bumped his shoulder, and it vaguely registers how much you missed physical touch. He laughed, full-throated. 
“Oh yeah, this is definitely heaven.” His expression is exaggerated, “You know what I mean.” He gestures to where the water laps at the shore. “This is a paradise, just needs a resort, and an airport.” He sighed, his mood is the friendliest you’ve ever seen. 
“Yeah, it would definitely make a difference.” You leaned back and listened to the water. “Happy you’re here though, woulda died without you.” You didn’t mean to say it, but it’s absolutely true.
“Oh, I don’t know-” He shrugged, modest and much kinder than you deserved.
“Yes, you do-” You shoved at his arm softly, “You’re the only reason we’re still alive, super nice to me despite the fact that I can be a spoiled little brat.” You laughed. 
“Can’t argue with that.” He laughed, “I like brats, though.” He smiled, and something that feels very much like butterflies fluttered around in your stomach. He didn't say anything else, and neither did you, the butterflies lingered, though, well into the night, and they only seemed to get stronger whenever his eyes found yours. 
“It’s getting late-” He puts the bottle down, “-we should get some rest.”
You nodded, not trusting your voice, instead, you just followed him towards the shelter. 
It’s a strange, unfamiliar dance you’re both doing - the polar opposite of how things have been between you. Shy smiles replace cold stares, and a curious longing takes hold of you. It would embarrass you to fall prey to your baser instincts - there’s something in the way his eyes tracked you that says you weren’t alone in your feelings. 
-
Something has shifted, he can feel it in the tense energy between them. A pleasant buzz flowed through his veins, danced along his nerves like a current, beat through his heart, and into his loins. She was so close, he could practically feel her warmth. 
She sighed beside him, her legs rubbing together like a cricket and he knew in his gut, she felt the same energy. 
“Good night, Frankie.” She whispered the words, as though someone might overhear. His eyes clenched shut at the feel of her breath ruffling through his hair, closer than she’d ever let herself get, awake anyway. 
“Night-” Everything in him wanted to turn over, to feel her fingers ruffle through his hair, but something held him back. He stayed still, his body tense despite how relaxed the alcohol had made him. 
“It’s a bit cold–” Her voice is a bit closer, so close he felt it in the shell of his ear, “-okay if I scoot closer?” Her hands pressed against his back, her legs tangled with his, and he knows in his bones, it’s just a ploy, but he stayed still nonetheless. 
“Sure-get close.” He took her hand and wrapped it around his middle, holding it well above his waist, letting out a deep breath.
“Oh-okay.” She pressed her face into his shoulder, and every cell in his body screamed at him to turn around, to kiss her, bury his tongue in her mouth, and then trail it down, bury it between her legs, but he shook his head, convincing himself she just wants this.
“Night.” His voice cracked, but he said nothing more. He felt her staring at him, letting out a little sigh of her own. 
“Night, Frankie.”
The days following your drunken night passed by in mostly silence, with a polite avoidance from him, and an annoyed quiet from you. 
It was no secret that you had the power to annoy the hell out of him, but you’d thought there’d been something else. The look in his eye when he’d told you he liked brats, the sound of his voice when he’d held you close, the considerable boner pressing against your ass when you’d woken up to him wrapped around you that next morning. 
Maybe you’d misread him, maybe it wasn’t flirting, maybe he’d just been stroking your ego, being nice to you, and you’d practically thrown yourself at him only to be.. What? Ignored? 
-
The wind whipped around as you both ate dinner a few quiet days later, the sky dark and pregnant with the promise of a heavy rain, filling you with worry. The shelter was sturdy, you knew that, but you didn’t think it would hold up against a storm like the one that had blown you both onto the island to begin with. 
“I don’t think we’ll be enjoying a fire tonight,” His eyes stared at the sky, same as you, “we should bring the clothes into the shelter; it’s going to pour soon.” He got up, tossing his banana peels into the fire pit just as the first few drops of water sprinkled down on top of you.
A nervous current flowed through your body as you made yourself comfortable within the shelter, making you acutely aware of his closeness. 
The rain came down in sheets as you both lay there, filling the silence with its rhythmic pattering against the tarp. Lightning flashed, illuminating the space between you. A shiver ran through you at the look on his face. 
“You okay?” His hand shot out, landing softly on your arm, raising goosebumps as it slid down towards your elbow.
“I’m fine.” You shudder, but all at once, annoyance springs up at his rejection the other night - you turn to give him your back. 
“Are you… angry at me?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
“Why would I be angry at you? It’s not like I threw myself at you or anything.” 
“What?” His voice sounded incredulous, “You mean, when we were drinking?”
“Yes!” You sighed, “I was all over you. I guess I was wrong.” All at once, you’re embarrassed, and desperate to get away from his incredulous expression. The storm, however, holds you both hostage.
“Hm.” He sounded almost amused, and your stomach dropped, “Well, if I’d known that all you needed was to be fucked, things would have been different.” 
Your stomach did a backflip onto its ass, shock, and pure adrenaline coursing through your body at his words. You turned slowly to face him.
“Sorry?” It came out almost stupidly, and he smiled a very self-satisfied smile.
“I said, if I’d known, that in order for you to stop being such a brat,” He moved in closer, forcing you to lay back and make space for him between your legs. “All you needed was for me to fuck you, I would have done it sooner.” He hovered above you, close enough that he must’ve surely felt your heart pounding where his chest met yours. It’s with Herculean strength, that you composed yourself, albeit nervously.
“Well, I guess I just thought you were more perceptive.” The bold words were completely at odds with the tremor in your voice; he laughed, full-throated, and it sent a current across every inch of you. 
“Or maybe, I thought you’d open that pretty mouth of yours, and say what it is you wanted.” He pressed forward, dragging his lips across your jaw before capturing your mouth in a kiss. It started soft, and for a moment, the storm disappeared, your hands finding themselves tangled up in his messy waves, and then his tongue pressed forward, and it pulled a moan from somewhere deep inside you. 
There was no more talking. Only the feeling of your heart racing, your cunt aching, and his comforting weight pressing you into the shelter, that is, before he shifted his hips and the considerable heft of him was slotted perfectly against where you needed him most. 
The slip of his warm palm from the trembling skin of your belly raised goosebumps in its wake, and pulled a gasp from your mouth into his when it glided under your shit and landed on your breast. Those deft fingers you’d seen working away on all manner of things on this island, now plucked deliciously at your nipple. 
It was almost violent, both the storm outside, and your haste to divest him of his clothes. The need to feel that golden skin on yours was a hunger pang, both terrible and euphoric, that burned as brightly as the flashes of lightning that lit up the shelter. His eyes shone with the same intensity you felt, and instantly, he moved away to help you, too, the two of you scrambling with a ferocity that bordered on anger. 
“God, you’re so fucking hot–” He hissed the words onto your face before kissing you again, and any softness was gone, his teeth clicked against yours before his tongue took yours and laid down the law. Your skin burned with want, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back before you moved your hand down between you to finally grasp his cock. He pulled away from your mouth to stare down where you held onto him, drunk with the sight of just how big he looked in your grip. 
“Is this what you’ve been wanting?” He held himself above you, watching as you stroked him slowly. 
“God, yes, I wanted this - I want you to fuck me–” you swiped your thumb over the head, fat pearly drops of his own arousal making it slippery, “I want you to come inside me, make me feel good-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before his mouth claimed yours once more and pulled your hand away in order to slip himself between the lips of your sex, coating himself in you for a moment before he finally slipped inside. 
“Jesus Christ, man.” You breathed the words onto his face at the stretch, at the way he seemed to have taken up every inch of space inside you, making you overflow with him. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, his hips snapping in a toe-curling rhythm. For a few minutes, there were no more words left, the only thing you can manage is to whimper, then moan in earnest when he ducked his head down to capture a nipple in his mouth. Your fingers like talons in his hair, keeping him close to your breast while your cunt soaked him in your want.
He let go of the perky bud with a pop, his eyes glazed. 
“Fuck baby, I’m gonna come so fast,” he almost slurred his words, pussy drunk, “your tight little cunt is gonna make me fucking come–” He sped up, his cock punching into you hard enough to make your breasts bounce, hard enough to make a lewd noise where you’re joined and you desperately wanted him to slow down so you can catch up. 
“Wait–” Your legs squeezed where they’d hitched up high on his hips, “Frankie–” His rhythm stuttered for a moment before he thrust again, deep, filling you with his come, and you almost cried at the thought that he might be done so soon.
“Fuck-” He ground himself as deep as he could, milking himself inside you for a moment before pulling away abruptly, hissing through the oversensitivity to look at his handiwork, “that’s so fucking pretty baby, look at me dripping out-” He smiled at you, almost laughing at the look of anguish on your face at the emptiness, “what’s wrong?” His hand rubbed at your belly for a moment before it slipped down, and two big fingers filled you back up. “I know you didn’t come, but you don’t think I’m just going to leave you like this, right?” He pumped slowly, making you keen when he pressed against something holy inside of you. “No, I got you, baby.” 
One moment he was kneeling between your legs, and the next, he was flat on his belly, his face pressed up against your pussy, tongue right on the button of your clit. 
The moan you let out was obscene. His tongue circled your clit with devastating precision, over and over again, until you were staring down at him with your mouth open, begging and praying incoherently for him to keep going just like that. His eyes were bright, laser-focused on you just like his tongue, and his free hand came up to hold onto your breast, pinching at your nipple, and all of a sudden, the sting snapped, the wave crested, and you practically folded in half, swearing loudly as you gushed around his fingers.
-
You weren’t sure how much time passed, but the storm got a little stronger, and louder as you both lay in the shelter, quiet and content to hold each other. Lightning turned the darkened skies into day for a moment before the boom of thunder shook you to your core. 
“It’s okay, just loud.” He said it softly into your ear with the same patience he’d had when he bandaged your foot, the comforting words dads usually used for their children.
“I know, it just startled me.” 
“Force of habit.”
“Your daughter, is she scared of thunderstorms?” You turned towards him, making yourself comfortable in his embrace.
“Only at first.” His smile was wistful, “She always jumps from the first big boom but then laughs,” his eyes crinkled, and it was hard not to notice just how handsome he is, the care and love he has for his daughter shining out through his eyes. “Sorry, I just miss her a lot.” It faltered, that handsome smile, and it made you sad for him.
“Don’t be sorry. I can’t imagine how hard all this must be for you.” Guilt swirled in your chest at the way you’d treated him before, at your general attitude towards everyone up until getting stranded. “I’m sorry about how I was–” He shook his head no, much too kind, kinder than you deserved, and you pushed through. 
“No, let me say it. I’m sorry about how I treated you - I was horrible.”
“You weren’t that bad.” 
“Yes, I was, so spoiled and insensitive, I didn’t even give your situation a second thought. All I cared about was myself and I can’t even believe it now. I’m sorry. I’m really lucky to have you here.”
“Thank you,” he smiled, one of his palms rubbing your back soothingly, “you’ve definitely had a big turnaround.” He laughed, and you smacked his arm playfully. “I’m lucky you’re here too. I would have been miserable by myself.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but sigh at the simple comfort human touch could bring. “Not sure you would have ever agreed to go out with me had we not been stuck here together.” 
His words were light, and for a moment, you wanted to protest, but you didn’t think you could, and it shamed you further.
“Oh god, what a moron I was.” You groaned, pressing your face into the warm skin of his neck. 
“You weren’t a moron, maybe a little oblivious, and I don’t mean that in a cruel way. You and I are in very different circles. I doubt our paths would have even crossed, but I’m glad they did because as much as you have the power to drive me nuts, I really like you.” His hands continued their comforting sweep across your skin, lulling you into the most relaxed state you could remember being in, in a long time. 
“I would have been an idiot to not give you a chance. You’re so sweet and smart, and so strong, so fucking handsome, too. You take care of me and make me laugh, and you have done your best to keep us both safe and sound and I’m just - I’m ashamed that maybe in the past I would have been too shallow and stuck up to notice.” The storm abates as you confess some feelings you’d been harboring. 
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. I think I probably would have dismissed you just as quickly for similarly shallow reasons. As gorgeous as you are, I most likely would have written you off as some rich trust fund-baby.” He half-shrugged.
“I’m still sorry. It’s because of me that we’re here.” 
“I could have said no.”
“I pressured you with money. I pushed even though you’d said it was unsafe.”
“I still could have said no. Let’s just forget it all, everything that happened before we got here. Point is we’re here, and we have to keep it together until someone finds us.” His hand kept its rhythm, sweeping over any and all skin, casting its spell of comfort until both it and the storm lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep. 
-----
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readychilledwine · 6 months
Note
hi, would it he okay to request one where it’s reader x azriel and they’ve been struggling with fertility/getting pregnant. And after a while reader finds out she’s not only pregnant but with triplets😭😭 and they’re all crying happy tears together sith the ic and celebrate😭😍
I was struggling with fertility and finally got pregnant after so long and I couldn’t be happier, so seeing dad az would be so amazing, but I read ur latest post so if it’s a lot then please feel free to ignore ❤️❤️
No. This is perfect. I can do this. 💙💙
Azriel Week Day 6 Prompt - Past and Future - Threefold
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Summary - After years of trying and unsuccessful attempts, you and Azriel finally receive everything you've asked and prayed for threefold.
Warnings - high-risk pregnancy, labor (nothing graphic), babies, illusions to miscarriages, inferred toll of pregnancy on mental health (its hard.)
A/n - this fit too perfectly for @azrielappreciationweek dad Az is my favorite to write as a father simply because his inner child deserves to heal 💜
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Madja and Rhys held your upper body as another bout of sickness ripped through your stomach. You hadn't felt right for several days now. You were exhausted and irritable, and lately, nothing has stayed down.
Rhys pulled your hair back, rubbing small circles into your back. "I can call for Azriel, y/n," he offered again. "He's only doing some follow up things in Windhaven. There are no new issues."
Madja looked at the High Lord. Calling for him silently in her mind. It was clear to the healer what was going on, and she wanted you on bed arrest immediately. You and Azriel had been trying and struggling to have a babe for years. She inclined her head to Rhys, motioning for him to follow her.
"She's pregnant," she boldly said. "The scent is faint, meaning it's early, but her morning sickness indicates multiples." Rhysand's face fell, joy, happiness, fear, sadness all washing over him. You and Azriel were the last of the circle without children.
He and Feyre had 4, Cassian and Nesta had 2, Lucien and Elain had 2. Even Mor and Armen had adopted children. But you and Azriel? You had been trying for years now, and unsuccessful attempt after attempt had led to you two in long fights, heartache, and emotional turmoil.
"Were they even trying?"
Madja nodded at the question. "We tried one last alternative method. It was very painful for her. That's why I need you to command her to bedrest, Rhysand. For them."
The High Lord reentered the bathroom, gently picking you up after you finished brushing your teeth and began the pathway to your room. "You're done working for today. I'm calling for Azriel." Madja opened the door for him, watching as he gently set you down on the soft sheets and blankets you had already started subconsciously nesting with. "You will not leave this bed unless one of us is here with you."
The Riverhouse set food and water on the table, indicatine needed you needed to eat. "Madja, what's going on?"
The old healer looked at you. "I'll be able to give you a better answer once Azriel is here and I examine you."
Azriel flew hard. Not wanting to be away a single second longer after Rhysand's urgent message. He landed with a thud, and instantly went into Rhysand's office where he and Cassian sat in silence. "Where is she? What's wrong?"
Rhys motioned for him to sit and Cassian handed him the whiskey he was nursing. Rhys sighed, "She's pregnant. Madja thinks there's multiple. You're both done. You will distribute your missions until further notice and stay with your mate." Rhys paused as Azriel threw back the expensive whiskey. "Madja is with her and waiting for you for the exam."
You were laid back, Azriel holding your soft hand in his scarred ones near his mouth as he kissed each knuckle. Madja was glowing, hands over your abdomen. You watched her mouth twitch and Rhysand stop pacing in the corner before he started to just laugh. "You are indeed pregnant, my dear. With three healthy developing children. Maybe 6 weeks." Azriel's face fell first, looking at Rhysand in panic. "I will leave you two with your High Lord. He is aware of my opinion given your history." Madja left the from gracefully, a firm smile cemented on her face as she walked into the hallway where the Inner Circle waited.
Rhysand moved to the foot of the bed, leaned on the post as he looked between you and Azriel. "You're on bed rest. You will not leave this bed or go anywhere alone. No training. No long walks. No long trips into town. We," he motioned between himself and Azriel, "will set the nursery. You, my dearest y/n, will no longer lift a damn finger." Azriel had not moved, his eyes locked on you. Rhys took the silent message, leaving the room as Azriel moved onto the bed with you, his mouth immediately on yours as that dam broke and tears began to fall.
"3?" He asked in shock, a hand going to your stomach. "And 6 weeks? You're already to where-"
"I know," you interrupted softly. "If we can make it 2 more weeks, it'll be the furthest we've made it." Azriel's hand tilted your head to his, and he kissed you softly.
Azriel paused. "Rhys is asking Madja if she'd be willing to stay here with her own chambers. They're also all setting up a rotation to ensure one of them is always with us."
You nodded, hand going over his to rest on your stomach. "3."
"3," he whispered back.
6 weeks passed without complications. At, 12 weeks and you were halfway to that safe period Madja had promised. The healer had her hand over your stomach, glowing in her magic and happiness.
"Such healthy little heartbeats." You felt Azriel's body language relax and his hand gently squeeze yours. "Everything looks very healthy so far. I will not lift the bedrest, though."
You looked at Azriel, silently pleading for him to advocate for you and were met with a soft apologetic gaze. "No," he commanded softly. "You stay here. I stay here. We stay here." House arrest, bed rest, that was the only issue so far. You were used to your work, to running daily, to anything but this. Madja left with a small smile as Azriel whispered thank you, and you began to cry. "I know, my love-"
"No you don't. You do not know what it's like to be trapped here. I can't even go outside without Rhys or Cassian appearing out of fucking no where. I miss the sun, the grass." You took a deep breath. "I am confined to this house and it's many walls for the well being of our babies. I understand that, but what about my well being, Azriel? What about my mental health?"
Azriel looked down, your normally selfless mate. "I'm sorry, y/n, but until I know something as simple as laying in the sun won't hurt them, I will support you being in the home, maintaining low stress levels. I will see if I can find a compromise. Perhaps an atrium? I know you've always wanted one."
You woke up to that the very next day, Azriel, Rhys, Lucien, and Cassian were all shirtless with other workers. A room facing your favorite garden had been wrecked, the furniture all moved. They had started at sunrise and at nightfall it stopped. Between magic, skills, and your husband refusing a break, you had a skylit atrium. Rhysand moved to you, covered in dirt and sweat, tilting your chin to place a small kiss on your temple, then Cassian, then Lucien, the last leaving his hand ok your already large stomach for a little while with a happy smile.
Azriel was moving the furniture back, shadows assisting every step of the way. He finally entered the room, lifting you gently from the chair you were reading in, and placing you in the lounging couch he had moved into the full glass room.
"Az-"
"I love you," he interrupted. "And I'm sorry you're having to make this sacrifice for us and our family, but please know I love you. Please know I am just worried. We've lost so much, too many already. Please, y/n, meet me here. Let this be our common ground until Madja says otherwise."
You had no choice but to nod, eyes locked on the beautiful night sky you had not seen in what felt like months. "I'm hungry." Azriel smiled at the statement. His eyes lit up as he felt your gentle caving down the bond. "Could you perhaps bathe and feed me? Maybe out here?" Azriel nodded, pulling you into a deep kiss.
Before you blinked, your third trimester was half way over, and suddenly bedrest was all you could think about. You were uncomfortable, large, constantly feeling as if the babes were using you as a personal playground. You and the Twins were in the kitchen when it happened, tight pain shot through your stomach and wetness came, your hand flew to Cerridwen and she supported you immediately, screaming for Madja as she moved you to sit.
The next several hours blurred together. Rhysand appearing and having Cassian help him carry you to a tub per Madja's request. Him holding your mind as he apologized over and over.
It made sense that this was happening now. The one time there was a mission that required Azriel. The one time he was in the Mortal Lands, having to spy on the Queen furthest from your home. Rhysand held your hand through the process, Cassian helping support your body as every inch of you felt like giving up and going out.
Until that first scream came. That first wail of life. That first tiny little body handled to one of the twins, small perfect wings intact. "Push, y/n," Rhys whispered softly. "They need their siblings." It could have been but moments, possibly hours. You didn't know. But a second cry came followed by the door slamming open and Azriel running to your side, allowing Rhysand to move and help with the babes.
"I'm so sorry," you kept saying, guilt hitting you at his bittersweet joy of missing two of the babes being born. "I-"
"It's okay. I'm here for this one." Azriel kissed your temple. "Two have wings, my love. You are doing so well."
The third cry came soon after, your body wanting to be done before finally giving out as Azriel and Cassian waited for Madja to heal you the best she could. She nodded and they removed you from the tub, body absolute done as you rested in Azriel's chest.
Cassian had gone to the babes, his excitement too heavy. Soon the whole Inner Circle and Nyx sat in the room, waiting for Madja to begin the announcements. She walked one of the babies to you, "First Born, winged, healthy weight for a triplet. Boy." Azriel stilled, his grip on your hand tightening.
Rhys walked the second over, a familiar soft look in his eyes, "Second born, winged, also healthy and hungry. Boy."
Cassian was sobbing holding his little bundle, looking at Azriel and then nodding. Your mate's dam broke, handing you the two sons instantly and reaching for the baby Cassian had. "Third born. Wingless for now, we all know that won't be the case forever, though. A little smaller than Madja would like. Girl."
Azriel held her close, his eyes locked on her perfect little face as tears fell. "You promised," he reminded you gently. You were too busy, admiring your boys to even respond. They were holding hands, both searching for their sister. "Y/n."
You broke your stare, brows knit in confusion. "They're your lineage, Azriel. You know you have last say in their names." Madja and the Inner Circle now stood closer as Azriel studied the babes one by one, never letting go of his daughter.
"Ophelia," he handed her gently to you. "After my mother." He took one of the boys, stroking his little cheek softly. He was holding the second born, who was wearing a serious pout. The was the largest of the three, little wings trying to stretch already on his back. "Ramiel. Because I have a gut feeling." Nyx laughed gently, silently asking to take his cousin and get him situated for a bottle. Azriel gave him to his nephew, a look of warning on his face. He took the oldest, who immediately took a scarred finger into his tiny hands. "Opinions, love," he asked you before realizing you were feeding your daughter. "She just decided to latch on there, huh?"
"Pretty much," you looked at your oldest son, the second smallest. Face all smiles. "Arnan," you looked to Armen. "After his aunt who found the method that brought them into the world." She was at Azriel's side immediately, taking the babe from him without him even putting up a fight.
*3 months later*
You and Azriel sat in the nursery. The boys in his arms, feeding softly from bottles, your daughter in yours breastfeeding. Figuring out a schedule to ensure all of them breastfed once or twice a day had been difficult but the routine was easy now. Ophelia slept best through the night after skin to skin and breastfeeding. Arnan was less fussy in the mornings when his breakfast came directly from you. Ramiel napped better after an afternoon breast feeding. "They're holding their heads up so well," Azriel cooed. "My strong boys." He was a male obsessed and in love. He was frequently out your shared bed at night, and you'd find him, sleeping with all three of them on his broad bare chest in the nursery. He was the perfect father despite not having an example of how to be one.
"I think our sweet girl will get there soon," you kept watch on her, holding her little hand as she reached for you. "We're just a Danity little thing, though so Heaven forbid daddy has to carry and coddle us more." You teased them both as Azriel's jaw dropped.
"I can't help it, love. Look at her, look at those eyes, that nose, her little smile. I'll carry her to Spring and back by foot." He stood, burping both of the boys and laid them in their cribs before coming to sit in front of his girl. "I want her when you're done."
"You say that until they poop."
"They're so warm and happy after breastfeedings, y/n." He watched as she unlatched by choice, reaching for her father's familiar voice and he took her. "And her belly is all full. And she's so happy. My little star. The perfect ending to our family's constellation." He walked her to her crib, continuing to coo her. "All of my little stars," he turned their mobiles on, watching as they all slowly shut their eyes and then walked to you.
He left the door open a crack, escorting you to your adjoining bedroom. Once inside he kissed you, thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he did, and rested his forehead against yours. "I love you."
"I love you too. Let's go to bed. Please. They hardly napped at all today. Nyx got them that damn toy and I am still deciding if our nephew gets to live." Azriel laughed quietly, moving to the bed with a hand holding yours. "Perhaps tonight you could stay here."
He paused, staring at you as he pulled the blanket over you two. "I don't know what you're talking about." His cheeks were slightly flushed. "I always stay the night here."
You kissed his hand. "Of course you do, Azzie. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, y/n."
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bella-goths-wife · 4 months
Note
Hi! I want to say that you are great at writing the yandere bowers gang. I also wanted to ask if you could do more of them. You can do whatever comes to mind.
The worst things the yandere bowers gang have done to ballerina reader
Thank you so much for the compliment :)
I never really do much for bowers gang since I started them during a hyper-fixation on the movie IT and once I’d moved on I forget to keep writing for them.
I tend to start a series when I hyperfixate on the characters or premise behind it and once I move on i unfortunately tend to stop posting about it but I’m trying to stop doing that!
Warnings: dead dove do not eat, sexual assault, physical abuse, verbal abuse, physical injuries, forced relationships, forced affection, yandere behaviours
I do not condone or intend to romanticise any and all of the warnings used, I am only writing about them for entertainment purposes and I do not believe in romanticising abuse of any kind!!
MDNI!!!
Henry bowers:
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The worst thing Henry has done to you is really hard to narrow down in your mind, he makes your life a hell on earth every day so nothing stood out as the worst
Until the day you accidentally made him jealous
A boy from your ballet class had stopped you after class to ask you a few simple questions about your specific techniques during the duet the two of you had
The boy made the mistake of mentioning This duet in front of the entire bowers gang, earning him deadly glares and your pleading look for him to just shut up
You expected Henry to blow up at you the moment the boy left, but he stayed quiet the entire walk back to your house
Which was even more terrifying
Once you all reached your home, he sat you down on your couch and told you a story from when he was a child
He told you about how when he was younger he had a favourite shirt that he wore to school everyday because it was his only clean shirt, but one day his shirt was taken and he had to go back to his house shirtless and in tears as he told his mother what happened
“Do you know what she told me, sweetheart?” He had questioned with a sinister look “if you don’t want someone taking what’s yours, you should put your name on it”
He commanded that the other boys hold your squirming body down on the floor as he got his pocket knife out
He pulled up your skirt and revealed your thigh before carving his initials onto your upper thigh as you screamed and cried in pain
He didn’t cut deep enough to require stitches, but it was deep enough that he was sure it would leave a mark on you forever
Once he finished, he let you lay on the floor in shock and pain for about ten minutes before commenting on what a mess ‘you’ had made on the floor and commanded that you clean up the blood dripping onto the floor
You cried as you cleaned before getting up and trying to care for your injured thigh
As an added bonus to his cruelty, if you backtalked/ got angry at him for the injury, he would grab some salt from the counter and would put in his palm before covering your injury with his hand and rubbing the salt in it
You had to start wearing thicker tights to ballet after that, but the boy had gotten the message
His broken ankles and bruised face had told you that the boys had told him exactly who you belonged to
Patrick:
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You’d never felt comfortable around Patrick, ever
He wasn’t as feared as Henry was and he wasn’t as strange as the other boys, he just made your skin crawl
His touches would linger on you for so long that you’d want to carve the skin off just to rid yourself of his touch
But all increased when you were left on your own with him for a night
Henry had told Patrick to stay over for the night on the usual Friday ‘date’ night that you and Henry had, Henry reasoned that Patrick deserved a reward for helping him so much lately
The night started off with forced cuddling during a movie after you had made him dinner and you wanted it to end after the movie but Patrick had different ideas
He followed you to your bedroom and told you that he wanted to sleep in your room for the night
Now normally Patrick was around the other boys so his forced affections had a limit that stopped him from doing anything that made you too scared for your own safety
But but not tonight, tonight it was just the two of you and that thought made you almost wish it was Henry in Patrick’s place
Patrick forced you onto the bed and proceeded to grope you as you cried for him to stop but he didn’t listen
He continued to touch you for his own satisfaction until he grew bored and he laid you down in your bed and cuddled close to you
You remember thinking that him sleeping on your chest was possibly the gentlest thing he’s ever done to you as you cried yourself to sleep in the arms of your abuse
Once you woke up, you notice that Patrick was being unusually nice to you and even defended you from the other boys when they got to rough
This continued for a few weeks until it wore off and he began to be meaner to you then before, that’s when you realised
He saw being kind to you as a repayment for his assault on your body
And you feared the next time he would come to collect his next payment
Victor:
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Victor was a very possessive person, he always thought that anything good in his life would be torn away from him
And he saw you as an extension of that, he knew that you were too good to be true and that one day someone would take you away from him and the others
That’s why he reacted so badly when he found out about you sneaking off during class to smoke with Beverly
He knew he couldn’t make it so you could never be around people, but he could definitely make it harder for you to interact with people away from him
He cornered you one day on the way back from your little smoke break and pushed you into the janitors closet
He pulled the pack of cigarettes out your pocket and he pulled one out before lighting it and putting it in your mouth and making you smoke it
He let you get halfway through before he pulled up your shirt to reveal your ribs and holding it there
He took the lit cigarette from your mouth and put it out on your bare skin
You cried in agony at the burning sensation but victor quickly silenced you by pulling out another cigarette from your pack and lighting it and forcing you to smoke it again before putting it out on your ribs
He continued to do this until you ran out of cigarettes, so you had six cigarettes burns on your skin as you cried and begged for mercy
He claimed that it was a punishment for smoking when Henry forbade you from smoking, but that was only a half truth
The real reason was the fact you were interacting with someone outside of him, you were with someone who wasn’t him and it made him furious
After the punishment, he kissed your forehead and left to go back to class
The rest of the boys didn’t believe you when you told them about what happened, they simply stated that victor wasn’t aggressive enough to do that
He was, and he’d do much worse to that Beverly girl if he saw her hanging around you again and being a bad influence
Belch:
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Out of all the boys, belch was always the one who was easiest to manipulate
He craved your validation, he needed your approval but most of all he needed to see you dance
He saw your dancing as the one beautiful thing in his life, his sole source of comfort and entertainment
You trusted belch, not a lot but way more than you trusted the rest
And he had caught you at a vulnerable moment when he found you crying in your bathroom with a look of pure horror
He asked you what was the matter and you just broke and fell down to the floor
He held you close, too close to the point it was painful, and he tried to comfort touch
He asked you again what happened and you cry your heart out as you admit that you couldn’t take much more of the constant abuse
You told belch through your cried that you thought about ending it just to get away from them
Belch stroked your hair as you cried yourself to sleep in his too tight hold before he put you in bed and walked to Henry’s house
When you woke up, all the boys surrounded your bed before Henry commanded Patrick and victor to hold you down
They do and Henry and belch stand in front of you before Henry tells you that belch had told him everything you confessed to
He was furious that you thought anyone could take you away from them, even yourself
He told you that he was going to take away something you loved as a punishment before making you try and guess what it was going to be
You guessed everything from your cigarettes to your bed, you only got your answer when belch took a hold of your ankle
You cried and begged and pleaded for mercy, saying you’d give anything
You reasoned that it could stop your ability to dance, and belch seemed hesitant and that but Henry calmly told him that he’d take that risk for you to learn your lesson
Belch was a strong guy, you knew that, everyone knew that
He was the muscle of the group for a reason
But his strength never really came to your mind until he started applying pressure to your ankle in a agonising way
He broke your ankle as you screamed and cried but Henry simply forced a shirt in your mouth to keep you quiet and forced you to make eye contact with belch
The boys forced some painkillers down your throat before leaving
Belch returned as quickly as he could in his moms care only to find you still writhing in pain on your bed
He put you in the car and rushed you to the hospital where he made sure to pay for you to have any medical treatments necessary
He lied to the doctors and told them that you’d simply tripped and fell down the stairs to excuse the bruises that layered your body and your broken leg
The doctors reassured you that it was a clean break and that you would be able to dance after a few months of resting and wearing the cast
You sobbed your eyes out at the thought of not being able to dance for that time and every time belch tried to comfort you, you’d practically shove him away
When the doctor left you alone, belch begged you to look at him and he pleaded that it needed to be done and he didn’t want to hurt you but you needed to be punished
No matter how guilty he felt, you had never been more accurately aware that this boy was not different from the rest
You’ve never looked at him the same or trusted him again since
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arctrooper69 · 2 months
Text
As Iron Sharpens Iron
"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17
Beta-read by @dragonrider9905
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Chapter 10:
Previous // Next
Warnings: Miscommunication, angst.
A/N: Sorry this one is so short! I promise the action and excitement will be back next chapter! 😁
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“Wait!” Hunter called out, standing up to follow you down the ramp, “I can explain!”
He rushed to the door, determined to follow you down the ramp, but he paused, feeling Echo’s hand on his shoulder.
“I’d give her a bit,” he advised. Hunter sighed and sat back down.
“Well that went well.” Tech clapped a hand to Hunter’s shoulder, then pushed his goggles further up on his face as he turned back to the cockpit to finish up the project he’d been working on.
“Wait, I’m confused,” Wrecker got off his bunk, “Hunter and Tara?”
Hunter sighed. “No! It’s not like that! I mean…”
Echo put his hand on Omega’s shoulder, attempting to direct her back to her room.
“Then what is it like, Hunter?” Omega asked, pushing Echo’s hand from her.
Hunter felt his chest tighten as he saw the hurt on her face. “It’s nothing, Omega. Go to your room.”
Omega crossed her arms, making no move to obey the command. “No! It’s not nothing! She obviously likes you and…” she paused to take a breath, looking down, “...and I thought you liked her too!”
“I do like her Omega… it’s just complicated. You’ll understand when you’re older.”
Omega frowned at him. “I’m old enough.” she said defiantly. “You taught me that communication with your squad is important.”
Hunter didn’t respond, he knew she was right.
Omega sighed in frustration. “This is why we talk to each other, Hunter! You should’ve told her!”
“I know, Omega. I messed up. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not all your fault, you know.” she said softer, putting a hand on his knee.
“She’s right,” Echo chimed in, “We all need to do better at communicating with each other.”
“Yeah…” agreed Wrecker, and turned back to Hunter.
“Really? Tara? Huh… gotta say I didn't expect that.”
Hunter glared. “I told you it wasn't like that. I was putting away some supplies and she came onto me, okay? She had a few too many drinks after the mission on Dantooine. She came onto me, started feeling me up and kissing me. Caught me by surprise and I pushed her away, told her I wasn't interested.”
Wrecker whistled “Damn, you're a popular man these days.” He chuckled, “I totally woulda let Tara kiss me.”
Echo elbowed him, “Not helping, Wrecker…”
“Oh. Sorry, Hunter.”
“It’s fine, Wreck.”
Echo gave Hunter a sympathetic look before retreating to the cockpit as well to help with repairs. The last mission had been hard on the Marauder as well as the mood of the team.
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cyborg-franky · 3 months
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Hi! I recently discovered this and i took me a while read everything but i just couldn't stop it, I love it! Can you someday write something about F reader and Ace like childhood friends to lovers?
Aaaah I am glad you like! And I hope you like this, I don't do gendered readers I'm afaird <3 I hope thats okay.
Ace x GN Reader SFW WC: 889
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You’d known Ace since you were both kids, when he wasn’t roughhousing and causing trouble with his brothers he was with you. You’d lay on the grass together and stare at the sky, watching the clouds. You could tell he enjoyed these moments as much as you, tired from a day of rolling around and screaming at Sabo and Luffy he just took the time to breathe in your company. 
“That cloud looks like a goat,” You pointed and Ace followed your finger, narrowing his eyes at the white fluffy shape before scoffing. “More like a sabertooth tiger,” He replied as if that was a simple fact and you were wrong. You huffed back at him. “But the horns look!” You nudged him with your elbow and waved your finger, trying desperately to paint the picture for him.
“You're blind!” He nudged back. “What?” You sat up and frowned at him, he sat up with you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him as he nodded to the shape. “No, no, look at it this way!” You rolled your eyes knowing you were right.
Despite the occasional disagreement, he was your best friend, and every moment you spent with him you were at your happiest.
-
“What?” You asked, loudly as you almost dropped your drink and stared at him. “Yeah! I got a boat and a crew, I’m finally ready to set sail as a pirate!” you shook your head, thinking about the long months he’d vanished, you’d been worried sick about him and now he came back with all these wild promises of adventure and claims he was ready to set sail and make something of himself.
Sure, he’d grown up, filled out, and come back with a devil fruit power, he still hadn’t gone into the details about that, but still. Ace was happier, confident and you were happy for him but the way he was coming back into your life just to leave again? 
You were both teenagers and despite the time and space that was ever between you over the years you remained best friends. You felt your heart ache as he carried on talking about how he was going to leave today, how the world was waiting for him. You’d always known he was desperate to be heard, to be seen, to pave his own way, and to avoid the looming shadow of his father's legacy, you’d just always hoped you could be at his side for it. To see him shine like the star he was.
“So,” You started and he watched you “You came back after all this time just to leave again?” to leave ME again.
“I- what? No!” He slammed his hands on the table, making the cups wobble and spill. “I was coming to ask you to join me! I don’t think I could do this without you.” He said with determination to get you on his side again before he reached over the table to grab your hands. “Come on, like we always talked about!”
Despite your better judgment you joined his crew, and became a Spade pirate. You hadn’t been serious when you were kids, how you’d both talk about the possible future but you couldn’t be without him again and you had a feeling he wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. Ace was as stubborn as he was cute.
You even stayed by his side when the Whitebeard Pirates had assimilated you all to their ranks, you’d cleaned Ace’s cuts, bandaged his wounds, and tried to talk him out of killing Whitebeard, though you knew that was never going to happen. 
It had been years now, the way you carried on growing up side by side. You’d held his hand when he’d taken the leap and gotten the huge tattoo on his back, you had a matching one, just much smaller than the one that marked his pride in his new life and role as the second division commander.
You’d gotten closer and spent all your free time with him. He was lying on your bed as you finished washing up for the night, ready for bed, and watching as Ace was dozing off on the bed. This was how it always happened, he had his own room but more times than not he would fall asleep on your bed and you’d wake up bing spooned by him. His strong arms around your waist and his lips against your neck as he snored.
“Marco asked how long we’d been dating today,” you started and he snapped awake, looking at you from under his hat. “And what did you tell him?” you laughed at his reaction, he must have been asked the same question by other whitebeards. “I said since we were young.”
You got into bed next to him, taking his hat and setting it on the nightstand, gently brushing back his hair and seeing his brows furrow as he wrinkled his nose. “Are we dating?”  you shrugged and got comfy, feeling him latch onto you almost instantly, 
“I think we crossed the line of what is acceptable for friends a while ago.” You said, closing your eyes as you felt the breath from his chuckle tickle your neck from how close he was nuzzling you.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
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littledovesnow · 5 months
Text
pretty
Request: oh hi! i'm so happy to hear that you're writing fluffy fics for coryo! i need more of this kind of content and i just read your fic and i loved it! could i request a peacekeeper!coryo fic where reader is lucy gray's best friend and she has a crush on coriolanus but gets terribly shy around him like she can't look at him in the eyes, he's just too pretty (she's just like me), lucy gray knows this and makes fun of her while trying to get them close to each other. then one day they go to the lake (just like the scene in the movie) and coryo sits by her side and she's like freaking out on the inside and he asks her if he did anything wrong or something bc he already noticed that she goes silent around him and reader starts talking very nervous about it and admits that she finds him very pretty meanwhile coryo just finds everything so extremely cute? the ending is up to u 💓 sorry if this is too long!
a/n: is this good because i don't know how to write a district!reader (don't even get me started on the Appalachia accent i am doing my ancestors DIRTY)
-----
You laughed at Maude Ivory as she flounced in the water, blonde hair sticking to her forehead.
You and the rest of the Covey had decided to spend the day at the lake, wanting to soak in the warm weather as much as you could before heading to the Hob for an evening of singing.
“You gonna sing that new song I’ve heard you working on every night?” Lucy Gray asked, turning her head to look at you, knowing smile on her face.
Flushing red, you shrugged at the brunette. “Not sure. I don’t know if it’s well and finished yet.”
Lucy Gray hummed, turning back to let the sun’s rays hit her face, eyes closed. “Sejanus said he and Coriolanus would be there tonight, and I think the song is wonderful. Wasn’t sure if you wanted to sing it in front of the muse.”
You chuckled, pulling at the grass around you. “And just how do you know who the song’s about?”
It was Lucy Gray’s turn to chuckle, sitting up and focusing her attention on you. “We’ve been best friends for ages, I can tell when you’ve got your eyes on someone.”
“I-”
“Someone who I know has some pretty strong feelings for you, too.”
Shaking your head, your gaze was deadest on the ground beneath you. “Not possible, why would someone like him take any interest in a woman like me? Don’t forget, Lucy Gray, you may have won the Hunger Games, but we’re all still district. I doubt he even sees me as a person.”
Frowning, Lucy Gray chewed on her lip. “Coriolanus doesn’t think like that. Sejanus is from District Two, and he doesn’t think less of him.”
You sighed, knowing Lucy Gray wouldn’t put this to bed unless you relented. “If I sing my little ballad tonight, will you finally stop trying to set us up?”
Lucy Gray agreed, playful smirk on her face. “Only because he’s going to love it.”
-----
Coriolanus dawdled behind his bunkmates, fiddling with his dog tags as a few handfuls of Peacekeepers made their way to the liveliest barn in all of District 12.
He smiled as he heard Maude Ivory take the stage, eyes traveling around the band to see if he could find you.
“Going to finally nerve up and ask her out tonight?” Sejanus asked, settling into the stool next to his friend.
He snapped his head towards the Plinth boy, who wore a lively smile. “What?”
Sejanus nodded his head towards where you were currently talking to Lucy Gray, both wearing colorful skirts. “Lucy Gray, I always see you watching her while she’s singing. It’s obvious, I’ve seen it since you were her Mentor.”
Coriolanus was tempted to correct his friend on the name, having had a talk with Lucy Gray after her victory, both settling on the fact that there were no real romantic feelings, instead the two had agreed to remain friends so long as Coriolanus was in the District.
“Alright, this next one’s a new number!” Lucy Gray commanded the stage like no other, introducing you. “I’ve been listening to this one while it was being written, and I have to say y’all, it’s one of my favorites!”
You took a deep breath, smile on your face as you began to strum the guitar, voice carrying to all corners of the Hob.
Coriolanus was mesmerized, eyes never leaving your figure as you crooned, face heating up as you two made eye contact, frowning as you quickly averted your gaze to another area of the room.
It was a common occurrence whenever you two had met each other’s eyes, you were often quick to look away and rarely look back in his vicinity again.
At first he wondered if his Peacekeeper uniform was the cause of it, but after seeing him in more casual clothing, you still reacted the same when he looked at you.
You finished your song, introducing Barb Azure before disappearing to the small shed that the Covey used a backstage area.
Lucy Gray gave your hand an encouraging squeeze as she passed you, walking over to her former mentor. “How’s Peacekeeping treating you?”
Coriolanus shrugged, not wanting to go into detail about his work. “Mostly just patrol and catching those damn birds.” He was still in a one-sided fight with the mockingjays and jabberjays.
“Well, we’re going to the lake tomorrow. Wanted to see if you and Sejanus would be interested in joining?”
“The lake?” Coriolanus asked, he wasn’t familiar with a lake within District 12’s limits.
Nodding, Lucy Gray looked back as she heard Barb Azure finish her song. “Just outside of the forest, meet at my place tomorrow and we can all go down together.”
Coriolanus mulled the thought over as he was once again left to his own devices, hand going back to fiddling with the dog tag on his neck.
-----
“You what?” You asked, pulling a ratty pair of shorts over the makeshift bathing suit you had on.
“I invited Coriolanus and Sejanus. They’re my friends, thought they deserved a day at the lake, too!” Lucy Gray acted innocent, though there was an evil glint in her eye.
“D’you think they’ll go swimming?” Maude Ivory asked, eyes light with the prospect of swimming.
You ignored the young girl, instead following Lucy Gray out back to gather some berries for a picnic basket. “You didn’t think to run this by everyone? They’re Peacekeepers, Lucy Gray.”
“They’re Peacekeepers because of me.” She replied, voice void of emotion. “And besides, didn’t think you’d be so against wanting to spend the day with Coriolanus.”
You wanted to reply, wanted nothing more than to scream that there was never going to be anything between you and Coriolanus, but you refrained, knowing Lucy Gray did have a point, and the two men did deserve a day away from their co-Peacekeepers.
Finishing gathering things for the basket, you felt your palms grow clammy as you heard the two men clamoring around in the house, along with Maude Ivory’s cheerful explanation about the lake and surrounding meadow.
Looking up when you heard the door close, you were greeted with the Covey, Sejanus­—who had Maude Ivory on his shoulders—and Coriolanus.
“Hi everyone.” You smiled, quickly looking away from the blonde. “To the lake, we go.”
You walked in a peaceful silence behind everyone, halfway distracted with thoughts of swimming and sunbathing, the crisp and warm air perfect. You watched as Lucy Gray walked alongside Coriolanus, the two seemingly teasing each other as they chatted, laughter flowing freely.
-----
Having spent a short while in the water, you were now sitting along the shore, a short way’s away from where Maude Ivory, Lucy Gray, Sejanus, and Tan Amber were finishing off the picnic foods.
You looked up when you felt a pair of eyes on you, blushing when you saw Coriolanus sitting down next to you, keeping a laugh in as his knee popped.
“Thought you’d want to enjoy the water and fresh air.”
“Can I ask you something?” Coriolanus asked, paying no mind to your attempt to dismiss him.
Looking away from, you squinted as the sun reflected off of the water behind him. “Already did.”
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” You asked, genuinely wondering what he was talking about.
Coriolanus mulled over his words for a moment, not sure how to go about the conversation. “Whenever we’re in the same room, you always come up with some excuse to leave. You never look at me when you’re on stage. Have I done something wrong?”
You felt your heart grow sore at his question, he sounded helpless, hoping you would be able to explain your actions. “I- no, Coriolanus-”
“Coryo, you can call me Coryo if you want.”
Nodding, you looked at the man. “Coryo. You didn’t do anything wrong, no.”
“Then what is it?” He pressed, head tilting.
You sighed, watching a bird dive down and grab a fish out of the water before taking off again. Oh, how you wish you could fly away right now.”
“You’re different.” You said, setting down the flowers you were weaving. “A lot of the guys here look similar. Tired, faces freckled from the sun, hair permanently tinted with the coal. You- you’re pretty. Your skin free from freckles, hair clean and bright. Well, at least it looked clean on the Games.”
Coriolanus, who had a small smile on his face, spoke up once he realized you were done talking. “You think I’m pretty?”
Taking his tone as him joking, you made a move to stand. “I knew it was a mistake telling you.”
“No, no,” Coriolanus took your hand, stopping you from standing. “I didn’t mean it in a negative way. I just, no one’s ever called me pretty before.”
You were unsure of what to say, so you shrugged lightly, chewing on your lip.
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty, too. Beautiful, even.” Coriolanus replied, smile on his face growing.
You felt your cheeks heat up. “Don’t let Lucy Gray hear that.”
“Why? She and I both agreed there’s no romance between us.” Coriolanus looked back at the group, seeing Lucy Gray look over at the two of you a few times, stopping to send an encouraging thumbs up.
The two of you laughed at her actions, before Coriolanus turned back to meet your eyes.
This time, you didn’t look away. Instead, you kept his gaze until he broke into a wide smile. “Would it be alright if I take you out tonight?”
“Out where? The Hob?” You joked, the list of possible date locations in District 12 were limited. “But yes, Coryo, you definitely can.”
-----
a/n: will i learn how to end a fic this year? let's wait and see! send requests in!
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thisismeracing · 10 months
Text
Love sips | MS47
― Pairing: Mick Schumacher x fem!reader (she/her) ― Word count: 1.7k ― Warnings: +18; not proofread; mentions of food and a bad day at work; graphic description of sex; oral (fem and male receiving) - 69; slightly sub!mick and dom!reader; ― Summary: Some bad moments leave the feeling that your whole day was destroyed. Sometimes, all you need to navigate life’s ups and downs is someone to remember you that bad events don’t equal a bad day, Yn decides on a very peculiar approach to remind herself that, and Mick, her boyfriend, is happy to help.  ― A/n: I actually liked this far better than I thought I would. I was very insecure at first because it was my first time writing a 69 scene, but I hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know your thoughts by reblogging and/or leaving me an ask (anons are on) *mwah* 🤍
⁕ Based on this and this request. ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist ⁕ you can support my writing by reblogging, and leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece)
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Bad days happen. It’s a fact.
Sometimes they’re a series of bad things that happen during the whole day.
Sometimes they’re just one bad thing that happens during that day and ends up tainting the rest of it.
Today, unfortunately for Yn, it was the former. 
She woke up late, which made her skip breakfast and grab a snack in the cafeteria close to her work, which ended with someone spilling coffee on her white blouse. She didn’t have a spare. Then it was the whole stress at work, her boss got her new tasks when she wasn’t even finished with the ones she had, and she needed to deal with some rude people along the way. And by the end of the day, Yn wanted to Uber home, but only then, when everyone had left, she noticed she had forgotten her charger at home, and her phone was dead. 
She had to walk to the subway, with a stained shirt, sore feet, and a headache. 
When Yn got home, she kicked her shoes off and crouched down to pet Angie who was napping in her bed close to the stairs. She breathed in her house scent, the low light, and the peaceful atmosphere, before grabbing two water bottles and making her way to the bedroom where she knew Mick would be. 
And there he is indeed. Mick’s sitting on the bed with a book, he seems deep in concentration, but the second he hears the door his head snaps up. Yn eyes wander from his naked chest to his gray sweatpants up to his face, and they share a look before she discards the water bottles on the nightstands and starts to undress. Mick closes the book and Yn nods. 
“Lie down,” it’s a soft command, and the blonde shows Yn one of his trademark grins before his back hits the mattress.
“What happened?” He asks, watching her remove her panties, her bra still on.
Yn sighs, “I’ve had a shitty day, but I’ll tell you after you make me cum. I’m sitting on your face.” She got on the bed. “Now be a good boy and make me forget my own name, will you?” 
Mick accepted the challenge with a proud smirk and hooked his hands on her thighs, helping her cross one of her legs over his face. Pussy right in front of his mouth.
He groaned and then moaned when she sat down without much pleasantries. Yn rocked back and forth, one hand on his hair pulling it tight, and the other holding onto the headboard for support. She threw her head back when his tongue invaded her hole, and his nose bumped into her clit in a crazy friction. 
Digging his short nails into her ass, Mick let the adrenaline and passion lead the way, licking and sucking, while Yn demanded in heated and low moans. She told him how good he was making her feel, told him he was such a good boy, that she would cum all over his face, and he was going to drink it all like his favorite liquor. Because, of course, he would. 
“Use your fingers, Mick!” she urged, lowering her other free hand to his hair, pushing his face deeper, and whimpering when he gathered her juices on two fingers before sticking it in.
He made ‘come here’ movements hitting her walls right on the spot, and Yn felt her toes curls. 
“Faster!” her command echoed through the large bedroom, and Mick couldn’t help but follow. “Make me cum, Mick.” She whispered looking down, her eyes finding his pleading ones. He was getting off with it too, but she could clearly see that he was obeying and putting her first and nothing made Yn more aroused than seeing how much he loved and cherished her. 
Yn reached for the clasp of her bra and took it off quickly, throwing it somewhere, and focusing her attention on Mick’s ministrations and her own hands playing with her hard nipples. The blonde closed his eyes, taking her swollen bud into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks while inserting a third finger inside, making Yn gasp and cry a string of profanities. 
With that pace, it did not take long for her to forget about the stresses of the day. Spiller coffee turned into spilled love confessions. Her throbbing head turned into a pleasantly throbbing body. And she felt the exact moment her body toppled over the edge, jumping head first into pleasure land. Mick moaned, and the vibrations made her dizzy. Her back arched, and Yn whimpered praises to her boyfriend, who slowed down his pace, helping her ride the orgasm wave.
 “Was it good? Did it help?” the German questioned, kissing the inside of her thighs, and Yn knew him long enough to know he wasn’t fishing for compliments, but, in fact, worried about her. 
“It was great, baby. Do you think you can give me one more?” she asked, supporting the weight of her body on her knees. 
When Mick quickly nodded in agreement, even looking excited, Yn turned her body, her pussy still directly on top of his face, but she was now facing his lower half. She draped her body on top of his, and he moaned, understanding what she was about to do.
“You’ve been such a good boy. I think you deserve some attention too.” Yn comments, playing with the hem of Mick’s boxers. She traces the outline of his hard shaft and chuckles when a strangled moan pass between his lips reverberating on her core. “Be patient, baby. I’m giving you some attention too. Your reward.”
And with that Yn lets his dick spring free from the clothing. She gives it a tug and pumps, before spitting on his pinky swollen head. The muscle of his thighs contract, and he involuntarily thrusts into the air. Mick moans into her core and licks a stripe of her sensitive pussy, while Yn takes part of him inside her mouth, taking her time to enjoy the feeling of each vein and dip. She could feel the salty precum on her tongue, and it only made her more aroused because truly Mick got off giving her pleasure. That was yet another proof of it. 
“Oh- Ich-” Mick started but cut himself off when Yn hollowed her cheeks and sucked him just the way he liked. It was too much. Her smell on his nose, her taste on his tongue, her tongue on him, her body on top of his. All of his senses were high and it wouldn’t take long for him to hit his climax. 
“You what, love?” She teased, grounding her hips harder against his face and taking him deeper into her mouth. 
Mick let out a series of curses and praises in German and then stuffed three of his fingers through her entrance. She was as wet as before, and he was eager to get a sip of her again. He traced her clit, and played with her lips, all while trying to keep his body functioning with her teasing him. 
“You wanna come?” Yn asked when she felt his hips start to leave the mattress again eagerly searching for her warm mouth. 
“Please, Liebling. Please, let me come,” it was almost like a plea, and it fueled Yn to start again her game, this time, ready to let him explode on her tongue. 
And that he did. The second Yn pumped what she couldn’t fit inside and contracted her throat with his invasion. Mick couldn’t help but dissolve into pleasure. His salty seeds filled her mouth and spilled onto her chin. Yn smiled proudly and kissed his head, helping him ride the climax road. 
It didn’t take longer for her to reach her second orgasm too. It was easy with all the stimulus on her body and his own. It was hot seeing him come, and it was hot when he did so in her mouth. For some reason, her pussy loved it. And so Yn when Yn came for the second time that night, her breath hitches, and she can’t hold her weight, so she falls on top of his thighs. Spent and satisfied. 
They both take a second or two to even their breaths, before Mick brings her to his side, kissing her forehead, jaw, and, then finally, her lips, tasting each other. Yn purrs and shakily pulls him towards her, deepening the kiss. 
“Thank you,” Mick mumbles, starting a path of kisses to her collarbones
Yn sighs concently, “Thank you.” She feels him smile against her skin, his teeth sinking into some parts of her flesh, and then nipping and kissing it. 
“You wanna talk about your day?” he asks now facing her. 
And that she does. In fact, she almost cries while telling him she only got to take one sip from her coffee before someone crashed into her spilling it into her blouse, she tells him how she forgot her charger and had to walk with sore feet to the subway, and she lists a couple of stressful people she had to deal with at work. When she’s done spilling out her feelings, to which Mick only agrees -knowing that sometimes she doesn’t wanna hear anything back, just sharing everything already helps-. He starts his trails of kissing, biting, and nipping again, and Yn is so spent and tired after her long day and two delicious orgasms that she can’t help but fall asleep. 
When she wakes up, stretching her body on the comfortable matters, Mick is in front of her, a boyish grin gracing his features. 
“I got you your favorite, though it’s decaf. But this time, you’ll drink without someone spilling,” and sure enough, he’s holding her favorite coffee with one hand and a snack in the other, expectantly looking at her. 
Yn can feel a wave of pleasure wash over her. The pleasure she gets whenever something reinforces his love for her, just like going all the way just to get her favorite coffee after she had a bad day. And sure enough, she sips on her coffee watching Mick with heart eyes. When their eyes meet, she’s sipping his love too, and enjoying how sweet it tastes. 
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― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Don’t forget to water a plant and water this account too (you water this account by reblogging and leaving me a message if you’re comfortable, it means a lot to me, and makes my imagination bloom just like a flower would) *forehead kiss*
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antariies · 3 months
Text
how to build a chair........... director's cut ∠( ᐛ 」∠)__ this is about to be a very long very self-indulgent post where i just talk about my own writing. i also doodled on all the pages i think it makes the whole thing more fun to go thru. welcome to my ted talk
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SIKE before i begin. credit where credit is due, this post was the start of it all. it changed my brain chemistry my jaw was dropped i was in awe i was obsessed and before i even finished it i knew that i would eventually have to make something similar for the commander or else i would be cursed to think about it for the rest of my life. and i Was cursed for like two years every day i would just be like........ is today the day i sit down and draft the commander chair fic of my dreams....... maybe tomorrow......
and then i got accepted as a writer for the gw2 zine ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ the chair idea was actually my backup option in case my first idea didn't pan out, and thank god it didn't, bc this one worked so much better. (still working on my initial idea, just turning it into a full fic! it was wayyy too long to be a zine submission.)
this is the chair i used. i downloaded the assembly instructions and tried out a bunch of different free pdf editors until i found one i liked, which ended up being sedja. if anyone's interested in doing something like this, i recommend printing out the pdf and writing directly on it! it was a lot easier for me to just figure out everything on paper first and then digitalize it after :P here's a picture of my physical copy
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okay actually getting into it for real this time !!!!!
1. yeah i could've just erased the ikea logo and left a blank space but then i realized i could turn it into an in-universe joke. and then i ran with it.
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2. i ripped this straight from the product description on the website. thanks ikea
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3. i'm not sure if anyone went and looked it up, but it's a real item code!
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hehe :3c
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4. if your commander willingly goes to therapy i'm happy for them but TO ME? you'd have to drag the commander kicking and screaming. it's not that they don't know that something is wrong with them, they know, and they know YOU know. you're just never supposed to talk about it. they don't look at their own psych eval results bc that's none of their business.
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5. i normally avoid specifying the commander's race when i write them bc i enjoy the challenge, but for the zine i was assigned to write about a norn commander! as a human main i was uhhhh very ill-equipped. but that just meant i had to study up on my norn lore (•̀ᴗ•́)و i spent hours on the wiki, then went around interviewing norn mains for their opinions, which was great fun :D it all helped me narrow the focus of my piece: joining the war on commander objectification on the side of commander objectification (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ and no one self-aggrandizes quite like the norn commander!
and to balance that i knew my narrator had to be patronizing as shitttt. they've clearly been following the commander since the beginning and seem to know a lot of intimate details about their life, despite not thinking very highly of them. wonder who that could be :3c
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6. i can't stop making references. so the original part number is actually #122620 in the manual but i've changed it here (and on the previous page!) to #082812, as in 08/28/12, the date gw2 was released! no real reason for it, @dalennaugw suggested it for funsies and i liked it. if you're my pal and i show you a wip and you have a cool idea for it, chances are i Will put that shit in. hi dale if you're reading this
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7. another thing about me. i loveeee repetition. here the word "over" is repeated four times to match the picture. honestly a lot of the creative process for this piece was just staring at the pages and figuring out how to tie the pictures to the commander in ways that weren't extremely corny or trite. idk why i enjoy writing like this when i could be frolicking in the beautiful prosaic meadows of a word doc instead but. it's like i see a tiny little restrictive box and i'm like OH BOY can't wait to think inside of that thing!!! i like when the format matters just as much as the content and in some cases informs the content. am i making any sense here. well all you need to know is that i'm a virgo and my favorite book is house of leaves
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7. aw fuck just realized i wrote 7 twice. whatever i'm not changing it this is 7 part two now. the theme of my piece is glory, what it means to the norn commander, and how far they're willing to go for it.
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8. does norn culture place emphasis on seeking individual glory Yes are norn also very community-oriented Also Yes. i think it's common to see norn kids napping together in a big pile, usually after they've worn themselves out playing games outside. it makes sense practically (apes together warm) and socially (pack bonding good) but that's just my hc. growing up i used to share a bed with my cousins all the time so it's normal to me.
a young, naive not-yet-commander, with no real combat experience, has no point of reference to compare a "blaze of glory" to. but the way everyone talks about it, it must be a good thing. a wonderful thing. a reward fit for a life well-fought and a legend hard-earned. so they imagine it must feel like falling asleep surrounded by the people they love, who love them in turn.
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9. .........i was playing a lot of ace attorney when i wrote this page. i wish i was joking 👍🏼
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10. ohhh shit the truth come OUT this whole chair thing was all a ploy just so i could write about the departing. again.
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will i ever stop thinking about her. reply hazy, try again later.
11. out of all the pages, this one has the most emphasis on text placement, like comparing the enlarged picture of the screw to a sword, the numbers counting the screws, and "up up up" being arranged to mimic a wisp of smoke.
i also wanted to lean into the viking/norse mythology influences with my word choice.
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12. more nods to norn culture. i didn't know they referred to the six human gods as "spirits of action" until i was doing the research for this piece :O
and the domain of the lost is called a hall of ghosts....... cause valhalla.....
13.
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i'm sorry this so funnyyy. SAYS the guy who literally clawed their way back to life for a rematch.
me when i'm in a sore loser competition and my opponent is the COMMANDER!!!
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14. arms as in "limbs" and also arms as in "armaments" :•]
15. haha get it because the picture makes it look like there are two mirrored speech bubbles while the text paints two opposing interpretations of the norn commander. one that's selfless and humble versus one that's selfish and vainglorious.
16. and the best part is IT DOESN'T MATTER which one is true bc at the end of the day no matter what their motivation, balthazar is dead by their hand. ofc i'm of the opinion that the most compelling interpretation of the commander is both, simultaneously. contradictions are good for the soul.
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17. i could've name-dropped kas, the only person present that would do something like that, but i felt it was better to leave it ambiguous.
18. low-hanging fruit. the metaphor was so obvious here but i had to do it. for the culture
19. the alternate title for this piece was "THIS COULD BE GLORY". "how to build a chair" was only supposed to be a placeholder title til i figured out a better one, but the innocuousness of it grew on me. also i came up with the other one too late and had already advertised under the chair title lol
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20. my first instinct was to end it with something more reassuring, like "what you have built so far is enough" but that would've been an ooc switch-up for a narrator who has been nothing but snide and detached this whole time. gotta stick to my guns
21.
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obligatory chair joke as the last line. for realsies though it’s meant to be an earnest appeal to the commander to take a break, to have a seat, but it’s also a challenge. are they willing to lean on their friends? are the bonds they’ve forged strong enough to hold their weight? are they willing to put their faith in someone else’s hands? are they brave enough to try? well. only one way to find out.
also guess what that wasn’t even the real last page of the manual. it's THIS
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but no way i was letting this be the image we ended on. IT LOOKS LIKE A DICK AND BALLS!!!
and on that note, THANK YOU if you made it this far!! a very special shout-out to @hawkepockets, my lovely boyfriend and beta reader, without whom this piece would not be nearly as polished. i would bring him pages to look over and he would say Scrap half of those lines you can do better than that. kill your darlings. i would complain and argue for a few minutes then we would revise. rinse and repeat until we had honed this thing to perfection. i can't stress enough the importance of having a second pair of eyes on your work throughout your creative process, even better if it's someone who challenges you. i don't even pay him 🫶🏼
and if there was anything i didn't cover that you still have questions about, please feel free to shoot me an ask! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ thanks for reading! see u later dudes ;P
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months
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So, I've had this strange and, maybe, cool idea that I would like to share with you!
Reader, who made their way up to the Galar Championsip, they are known for their strange connection to Pokémon, and for never talking, or showing their face. People know very little about them, and rarely see them, but on one day, the finally day, the truth unfolds!
When they step onto the field, surrounded by cameras, they throw off their cloak only to show that all this time, the Pokémon Trainer was not in fact human, but also a Pokémon! Bisharp, to be exact.
The shock, the news! The unexpected twist!
Hope that you'll like it! Take your time, I can wait, writing is a very tiring progress✨
"Leon! How do you feel about the mystery challenger you endorsed being moments away from battling you?"
"Have they ever spoken a word to you, Leon?"
"Who do you think they could be? Someone outside this region? An old rival looking for revenge?"
"I haven't got a clue who they are just yet, but if I know one thing...it's that this battle is going to be amazing! I can just feel it!" The Galarian Champion grinned with pride, standing amidst a swarm of reporters who wanted to question him before he prepared for the final match.
At last, the day arrived.
One that many anticipated.
Because today Leon will be facing a particularly unique challenger:
You, somebody who mysteriously showed up in Galar one day and kept their identity hidden beneath a covert cloak. Nobody knew what you actually looked like, and it was even harder to know what you sounded like....as you've never spoken to anyone.
Not even to Leon, although you made your wishes to enter the gym challenge very clear when you approached him, handing him a card with a simple request:
Endorse Me --B
"B" was the only name he knew you by, and nothing else. But he understood that you probably didn't like talking too much, similar to Allister. So he obliged, permitting you to wear the cloak as you were rather insistent on doing so.
Who would have though you'd conquer the Championship by storm and were now minutes away from battling him for the title?
You've truly wowed the crowd as you defeated the gym leaders with flying colors. And all you ever did was point at them and let your Pokémon finish the job--all without uttering a single command.
You even took down Raihan's Gigantamaxed-Duraludon in just a single turn!
It's like you shared a psychic connection with them, although you've ducked out of the way of reporters and fanatics who were just obsessed with you, refusing to be swarmed.
Still, your aura of mystery, strong bonds, and intelligent Pokémon quickly became the talk of the town. And it made Leon all the more thrilled to battle you, hoping he'll get to learn more about you that way.
So when the news crew started getting word that you arrived in Wyndon for the final match, he took that as his cue to get ready.
He was so excited, he almost got lost on his way to the locker room.
.........
Stepping out onto the field, you were immediately greeted by cameras hovering on all sides, mounted by Aegislash.
Every angle was determined to capture you in your star moment...as you were about to battle Galar's current champion.
But even with all of this attention on you, you didn't wave or acknowledge the cameras one bit. Your focus was only on the purple-haired man who was waiting for you in the center.
For a second or two, Leon was thrown-off by the uproarious cheers coming from the crowd after you appeared. Usually he was being rooted for the most, although it's clear that people were psyched to see you battle him.
You've been one of Galar's greatest mysteries since your arrival, and still nobody knew who you were or how you became so strong.
Stopping in front of him, you looked into his eyes, only giving a small nod of acknowledgement.
"Well this is it, B. The moment everyone's been waiting for." He grinned. "Are you ready for.......oh, guess they are.." His face fell flat as you simply turned and headed back to your position on the field.
Now he was just dying to find out who you truly are.
Who really stood under that cloak?
For now, though, all that mattered was this battle that would determine if he'd successfully defend his title as Champion...or if you were somehow going to come out on top.
Standing back at his position, Leon patted both side of his face, taking a few deep breaths. Then he tossed his heavy cape to the wind, which was hastily collected by a staff member before he struck his signature pose for all to see.
The crowd's cheers have grown tenfold, chanting his name as they mimicked the iconic gesture.
You grunted in interest, impressed how that simple action got everyone so riled up and excited. And it made you wonder...
Looking to your cloak, you gripped it with metal fingers that were barely visible to the cameras. For a moment or two you stood there debating, wondering if....
No.
You're done dodging people and hiding from the public eye.
You've kept up this mystery long enough.
It's about time everyone here knew who you really were.
"What's this? Is our mystery challenger about to reveal their identity??" An announcer cried out. "It's the moment we've all been waiting for, ladies and gentlemen!!!"
With another grunt, you finally threw off your cloak, letting it fall to the ground beside you, eyes closed as you anticipated everybody's judgement.
Most of the crowd descended into silence; even Leon, Hop, and the other gym leaders couldn't believe what they were seeing right before their very eyes.
After all this time, they thought they were battling a strong human Pokémon Trainer.
But no.
Instead it was a Pokémon itself.
"What a twist! I can't believe it! It seems that our mysterious competitor is none other than the Pokémon Bisharp! Somehow it has risen through the ranks of the championship without the assistance of a trainer! It's incredible! This has NEVER happened in the history of Pokémon battling!!"
Soon the crowd went WILD.
Many wondered how it was even legal for a Pokémon to enter a human competition; a few others--especially those watching from home--were convinced you were just a person in a Bisharp costume.
But the cameras surrounding you didn't lie.
You were a real Bisharp, and you were determined to become the first ever Pokémon to win a championship.
"Shar.." With a smirk, you raised your hands up to the cameras, giving them a small wave. You were relieved that your secret was finally out; it gave you a massive confidence boost after seeing how all the humans reacted.
As you then sharpened your bladed arms and readied your first pokeball, you gazed at Leon from across the way. His jaw was dropped in shock, unable to believe who he was battling.
It was quite amusing to you.
Of course, many knew Bisharps were strategic commanders of Pawniards....but nobody would have guessed they'd be intelligent enough to lead a competitive team of different Pokémon outside their lineage.
Well, you're the shining example that it was possible.
After sending out your Pokémon, you huffed, wondering when your opponent was going to snap out of it and start taking this battle seriously.
But he quickly realized you were waiting, and seemed flustered.
"Sorry. I just...wow....I can't believe you were.....ah, what does it matter?" Shaking his head, he grinned as he finally sent out his first Pokémon, ready to defend his title. "We're gonna have a champion time regardless. So give me everything you got, Bisharp!"
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vibratingskull · 14 days
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Hello! I really enjoy your writings, the way you write Thrawn in some settings can be so wholesome and sweet and I really love seeing the character in that kind of light. Especially the aroace one and when he’s with the different families you gave him, regardless of how old the kids are or what their dynamic is.
For your requests, do you think you could write Thrawn holding his firstborn child for the first time? I think it’d be interesting and sweet to see him get kinda nervous about the prospect of finally meeting them before his heart fills with so much love upon seeing his baby and being so happy for the finally he now has.
Hope you’re having a wonderful day and that you have fun with all your requests coming in ❤️
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art by @blackmonitor
Edit cause i forgot the top message:
Everytime someone ask me about Aroace Thrawn I gain 1+ year in my lifespan! Dad!Thrawn is also so important to me, it is kind off pathetic of me. I'm very glad you like my soft, fluff stories about him, he truly deserves the world and a family that loves him unconditionnaly! Have a great day too my sweet ❤️
Thrawn x F!reader
Tags: Dad!Thrawn, premature baby, skin to skin, father baby connection, soft dad Thrawn
Thrawn caresses your temple with his knuckles, silently looking at you taking a nap. It has been long and torturous but you did it! Against all odds and predictions, you actually did it. It was difficult, dangerous for you and the baby, and they came out premature, but you did it! 
Oh brave you. 
Oh warrior you. 
He feels so grateful for you giving birth to your baby. He held your hand during the entire process, hugging your shoulders as you pushed hard, losing your blood and your sanity in the pain. But you persevered and delivered your newborn despite all the complications due to you two being different species. 
Right now your baby is between the hands of the medics, leaving you two to breathe and trying to relax. You didn't even have time to take your newborn in your arms, the medics immediately took them. 
You both knew the risks of having a hybrid baby, but you both hoped to have at least the time to take a look at them before they got taken away. But their health signals ordered the medics to put them in urgent care immediately. 
So Thrawn spent the last three hours with you, trying to ease your worries and looking over you napping. Your labor was so intense and painful tiredness took precedence over your fear and you ended up sleeping, too exhausted after such a trial. 
He looks at you, full of love and admiration. Since Bridger captured the Chimaera to bring her to Peridea, morphine stocks are rare and sparse. He wished he could have given you some but you refused when the droid proposed it. You refused to have the comfort of painkillers when they could be used to mend the wounds of your troops on the battlefield. He tried to convince you that you had the right, days before labor started but you were adamant! You wanted to set an example as his wife and Commander. 
You chose the way of pain to give life to the most perfect being in the Universe, the love of his life, the light of his days. And for that his gratitude is infinite. 
“Grand Admiral?” The careful voice of his head doctor raises in his back, snatching him off his contemplation of your sleeping form, “We just finished. Do you wish to see them?” 
Thrawns contemplates them up and down in silence before leaning forward, gently kissing your forehead. He pulls the cover over you and straightens his back before turning towards his medic. 
“Lead the way.” He placidly responds. 
After three long hours of uncertainty, the doctor appears a bit unsure but nothing in their demeanor indicates any high-stress level, Thrawn concludes that whatever medical procedures your baby needed, they have been able to deliver. 
As they silently walk Thrawn’s mind starts asking…weird questions. 
Was it painful for the baby ? 
Did they feel scared ? 
Did they cry for their mother, powerless as they were manipulated by strangers ? 
Did they feel cold at any moment ? 
Did they try to reach for any of you two with their little hands only to meet the void ? 
“Here we are, Grand Admiral.” 
Thrawn stops before the door… terrified. What if… the medics failed ? He doesn't read any bodily signs typical of tension in them but is he himself in the right mindset to read them after such a hard birth and pregnancy ?  
“How are they ?” He demands, imperial, never letting any doubts or fear slip through in his demeanor as he knows so well. 
He internally prays to have read them correctly. The head medic looks at him, their lips in a thin line, searching for their words. 
“Authorization to speak freely ?” 
Thrawn nods, his expression closed off and unreadable. 
“It wasn't pretty. To be frank, your baby is a miracle survivor, we are not equipped properly for babies’ care and health monitoring, but I also notified you of the risks of giving birth to a hybrid.” 
Thrawn ever so slightly squints, a subtle threat and call to order. The doctor decides to cut the story short. 
“You are incredibly lucky Grand Admiral, truly. I don't know if we would be able to repeat this feat for a second baby, especially stranded on this wretched planet.” the doc extends his hand towards the open room  “They are sleeping.” 
Thrawn considers the open door and wonders for a second if he has the strength to walk into the room before getting a grip. 
Of course, none of his turmoil is visible, and his hesitation lasts less than a second. He walks into the little room, a former waiting area reconverted into a nursery. 
It’s not perfect, no battleships ever saw a nursery before. They had to do with what they had to accommodate new life on Peridea. He advances towards the bassinet, perceiving the heat signals through the material. 
He, oh so slowly, approaches the little form lying under a blanket. He feels like his heart is going to explode under the pressure.  
They are blue ! 
Just like him. 
But they have your hair color and your nose The cheekbones and forehead bumps are unmistakably his.  
He leans forward to observe better. 
He never witnessed such… perfection before. This is simply the most beautiful being to ever exist in the cosmos. The perfect mix of their father and mother. 
His heart bleeds at the nodes of the different monitors over their body and the tubes through their little nose, but it must be down to unsure their survival. 
“They are stable now, but they will need to remain for some time.” The medic explains, coming behind their Grand Admiral. 
Thrawn tilts his head, his eyes never leaving the baby, looking at them moving in their sleep, eyes closed shut. Inadvertently, he feels his hands clasped behind his back starting to tremble. He isn’t even touching them but he fears to hurt them in any way. 
They are just so small. 
And him so big... 
What if he causes pain to his baby by trying to hold them? What if he hurt them more than they are already wounded? He could never forgive himself. Maybe it is better if he abstains from any physical contact. 
Yes. 
That is for the best. 
“What gender are they?” He asks without lifting his gaze from this absolute perfection. 
“It is a brave little girl.” The medic explains, a small voice audible in their voice, “My congratulations, Grand Admiral.” 
His heart skips a beat. 
A little girl? 
Just as he so dear hoped. He always desired a daughter. You were neutral on the question but he knew deep down that he was meant to father a little girl. 
And there she is! 
His little warrior... 
“A daughter...” He repeats like he has difficulties realizing his chance. 
The baby seems to react and agitate herself in the incubator. 
“She recognizes your voice. You should try and hold her, she needs comfort after this... trial.” The medic explains. 
Thrawn smiles, his expression hidden from the doctor. She recognizes his voice... 
The voice of her father. 
He spent so much time talking to your bump during those seven months of pregnancy, in hopes the baby would be able to recognize him and associate him with safety and comfort. 
His heart clenches knowing he succeeded. 
He tentatively enters the incubator with his large hand and very delicately caresses his daughter’s cheek with his knuckle. 
She is so warm. 
Like a Chiss. 
She seems to yawn and tries to seize his large finger in her tiny fist, desperately longing for some warmth too. His hands travel to her tummy and gently brush it. 
Warrior... She is so small compared to him, that he feels he could crush her in his fist. That thought distraught him so terribly that he stops his caress, much to his daughter’s dismay who lets out a whine escape her. 
“Take her in your arms. The first hours are important for a baby’s general well-being.” 
“Leave us alone, please.” Thrawn orders nonchalantly, hiding his worries from view. 
Once the medic leaves, he carries a chair closer to the crib and gets rid of his white jacket and black tank shirt to very tenderly seize his daughter. He takes care of holding her fragile head correctly and supporting her body, not pulling off the nodes of the monitors, and sits down on the chair, pressing his baby girl against his warm Chiss skin, in a soothing skin-to-skin contact. 
Maker she is so light and fragile... He suddenly feels so terribly clumsy with such a precious package in his hands. 
She babbles in her sleep, agitating herself in his hands. She holds her tight to not risk dropping her, pressing her soft precious body against his beating heart.  
It feels good. 
It feels right. 
He instantly feels a new connection forming between himself and his baby. She seems to try and get a grip on him, to hold him close, to keep the warmth source against her sensitive baby skin. 
“Hello, little one.” He speaks softly with his deep melodious voice. 
A sound that seems to please her immensely because she seems to try to smile despite all her tubes. He delicately cradles her. 
“You scared us immensely, you know? But here you are, at last... My baby.” 
Thrawn isn’t a man prone to sentimentalism, but in the intimacy of the hug, he can’t help himself. He needs to whisper sweet nothing to his baby, deepening the connection further. 
“You are already so loved, little one. We dreamed for your arrival for years. Ch’eo k’eten, ch’eo euhn ch'etecerci.”  
The baby presses her cheek against his peck, letting herself sooth by her father’s heartbeat. She appears so appeased right now, sleeping soundly in his arms. At her true place. 
“My pride, my jewel...” 
He gently lifts her higher for her little head to rest in the crook of his neck, inhaling her scent. It is pleasant and relaxing, almost familiar like a song he had known for years. 
He sighs. 
Soon his shift will resume. And he will have to leave you both behind in the med bay to ensure the Chimaera’s safety. 
But for now, he will indulge as much as he can. He also hopes to be present for your first meeting with her, he longs to see your elated expression when he will bring your your firstborn. 
“Welcome to the world, little Thashao. I vow to protect you from any harm, my sweet, my treasure...” 
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@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037
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Hi can I please get an Erwin x secret wife reader? Just a lot of fluff and how the scouts finds out that their commander is a married man. Thank you
homie... this is the cutest ask ever oh my god i'm fucking giggling over this and i'm not even an erwin girly
summary: erwin smith x secret wife reader: meeting, married life, and the discovery word count: 1.449 setting: canonverse fem!reader warnings: season 2 & 3 spoilers
when erwin smith met you, not even his resolve to stay away from relationships could stop him from falling in love. and somewhat unfortunately, there was no stopping you from loving him back.
frankly, your relationship was the last thing erwin wanted. being a scout, the commander of the scouts nonetheless, meant that tomorrow was never promised. with the disproportionately slim chance of surviving his career until retirement, he had made a silent promise to stay away from love. of course, meeting you changed that in spite of his better judgement...
-it was shortly after erwin had been named the new commander of the scouts. after is appointment, he often went and got a beer at this small tavern in one of sina's outlier districts so he could try to organize his thoughts
-you were the one to approach him, asking if he was alright because he looked a little dejected. erwin, always hellbent on demonstrating his strength, overcompensated a little bit and exuded a little too much of his illusive confidence
-you laughed at him and told him that he acts like a politician
-it wasn't often that someone saw through him, he found it intriguing. you talked for awhile that nigh, expecting to go your separate ways, but you ran into him there a few more times, and when you did, you would sit together and talk. eventually, you organized some cafe dates on sunday mornings. you didn't actually know who he was until your fifth or sixth meeting, which was funny to you because he never thought to mention it, and funny to him because he thought you knew all along
-you made him realize that there was more to life than discovering the unknown- that there was a lot of value in what he already had. he made you think more about your existence in the walls. you challenged each other
-within a year of meeting, you were married. you decided that if you were determined to be in a relationship, it was best that you went all in since time might end up being short
-married life with erwin doesn't always feel like married life. there's a lot of being alone for both of you while he's away on missions or in other districts for planning and other administrative tasks
-he sends you letters if he's away for more than a week. they are not very emotional letters and they don't ever detail anything specific about people, just events. but he is sure to tell you about the things he thinks you would enjoy the most- like how he saw a sunset that reminded him of one you watched together early in your relationship
-he's the type to be like "i'm not a romantic, but.." and then write something really gushy lol
-when he gets home, he likes to bake those cookies that are shaped like flowers with jam in the middle. he has mastered his family recipe for them. he feels like it's a nice way to show you how much he still cares about you after being away from home for so long
-when you're together, he tries to be very present with you. he enjoys cooking meals together and playing card games
-his love language is acts of service so he really wants to make you feel at ease when he's home because he's sure it stresses you out a lot when he isn't. he ends up doing a lot around the house, even if nothing really needs to be done. like especially on longer stretches of being home, he would start home improvement projects if there was nothing to clean or help with. somehow, he always finishes them even if it's at the expense of a decent night's sleep
-he has a home office, but he does his best to only do work after you've gone to sleep/before you wake up if it's his day off (this man is always working :( even if he doesn't have a deadline)
-you don't usually go out on the town. it's exhausting travelling as much as he does, so he likes to feel like he has a real home base and spend a lot of time there
-definitely "lets" you win arguments, but he still thinks you're wrong lol
-he is a bath man. like he spends an unhealthy amount of time in the tub if he has the time for it. he likes salts that help with soreness and he likes when you take them together so you can just talk about your day
-if you were part of something like a book club/knitting group/something where other women get together and do granny activities, erwin loves when you host. he is making cocktails/tea and hanging out with you all to get the latest gossip. he doesn't like to interact with too many of his coworkers bc he doesn't want to get attached lmao, but he loves knowing the neighborhood tea
-"ingrid, waiting for him to come to his senses is a waste of your time. you deserve someone who respects you." (needless to say, everyone loves him.)
-because of stuff like this, you aren't exactly secretly married. like your family and friends all know that you are married to the scouts' commander, they just know better than to run their mouth about it. erwin just never talks about his personal life at work
-his section commanders all know, but they were all super shocked to find out. everyone would have been up late working on a plan or something and he finally tells them to go home. someone would have asked a last minute question and he's like, "tomorrow. i'm late for dinner." and hange is the only one bold enough to be like, "haha, you got a secret wife or something?" and he just raises a thick eyebrow like "my wife isn't a secret."
-everyone was shook and waited for him to leave to talk about it and try to figure out the lore
-levi found out later, awhile after he joined the scouts when he heard everyone gossiping about you two. he pretended he didn't care but the man was shocked
-you might meet a few section commanders/captains over the years by picking him up at work for a date or eating lunch with him in his office when he's in the capital, but the introduction is always brief and it's never long enough for you to get to know anyone
-any day that you plan to visit him at work, he calls miche into his office beforehand and tells him that he's not allowed to sniff you in the event that you meet
-when erwin loses his arm and levi finds out, he's obviously pissed that he couldn't have been there to help, but all he ends up saying at first is "sucks for the mrs."
-when erwin comes home for the first time after this, he almost feels embarrassed that he can't be doing things on his own, and terrible that he can't do things for you like usual. tbh, he'd ve kind of aloof at first bc mans is avoidant, so you'd have to show him that you're not throwing in the towel
-it's a massive moment of vulnerability for him when you help him out with things that used to be second nature, like buttoning his shirt and writing. however, he spends a lot of time at home while he's healing and although there are some moments of tension, you grow together a lot
-hange would offhandedly mention you at the beginning of the events of season 3, like half joking and half curious. "you think erwin's wife is gonna leave him? he lost an arm and now he's in prison. that's gotta test the ol' vows."
-levi would glare at them in utter disbelief like ?? "honestly, shitty glasses. where do you get the nerve?" and sasha and connie would overhear and look at each other and just go off the rails trying to piece it all together, like trying to figure out if they missed signs or smth
-levi squad uses this as a distraction from the horrors of humanity within the walls :D
-overall, erwin values you and your relationship above any other relationship he has. he wants to protect you from getting attached to his coworkers because it's bad enough that you fell in love in the first place. he considers your relationship the most selfish and self indulgent thing he's taken part in, but he can't bring himself to feel remorse because you're impossible not to love and he wants you waiting for him when he gets home
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yawujin · 5 days
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Hello
So I don't know if you're opposed to writing for the v2 boys but if you aren't
Could you please write v2 boys x s/o who is very hard working so when they get focused they forget to eat or drink water a lot &(if you're comfy trans male reader) they forget to take their binder off and rest.
Thxxxxxxxx
ofc i'll write the sdr2 boys i love them
request | sdr2 boys x an S/O who is hard working
type | react , light hearted , non killing game , established relationship , trans male reader
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hajime hinata ♡
respects you for working so hard
always reminding you to take a break
hajime's a good listener so you can go to him to talk about work troubles you have
he secretly daydreams of another life where you two can just relax 24/7 so you do not have to worry so much about work
admires and appreciates all that you do
gets really excited when you finally finish your work for the day
kazuichi souda ♡
he gets it
relates to you bc he has had to stay up late working and fixing things
he learned the hard way that he must always keep water or something to hydrate himself while working
he's lowkey the type to ask "have you eaten yet?"
he cares sm about you
even though sometimes he also forgets to pack some lunch for himself for work lol
you two look out for each other always <3
fuyuhiko kuzuryu ♡
you already know he's the type to text you constantly throughout the day
"you're going to eat right?" "there has to be something in the vending machines there you can buy."
angry texts when you say all you had so far was some crappy instant coffee
even angrier texts when you tell him you're working after hours
always insistant on you taking a break (even if you just started working on something)
"i love you so much and if somehow someday you collapse while working i'll never forgive myself"
gundham tanaka ♡
orders you to stop working and take a break
no seriously, he orders you to take some time off
"the supreme overlord of ice commands you to STOP!"
he demands you come to bed and keep him warm
but first he reminds you to take off your armor (referring to your binder)
you still had it on oops
you just laugh a little bit and change
finally, you both can get some rest after a long day
nekomaru nidai ♡
he reminds you not to push yourself too hard
"it's kind of like training, you must know your limits!"
is willing to make a list for with designated times for breaks in your schedule
gets hyped up when you have a day off so you two can finally have a date/datenight
has a whole lot of respect for you and your ability to push through especially hard days
"just keep it in the back of your mind that i'll always be here if you need me for something, got it?"
ultimate imposter ♡
brings food to you
gently urges you to take a break
hugs from behind while you work
prefers it when you work from home
picks you up from work whenever he can
teruteru hanamura ♡
when you come home, the first thing he does is feed you
he makes all your favorite dishes ofc
he can always tell if you neglected yourself during work hours
"can't fool me, as your boyfriend i know what you need!"
keeps track of your days off incase you try to get a head start in working on something new
"nope sorry! can't have that today. you and i are due for a date at the diner"
sends you positive and encouraging and rather suggestive messages while you are at work
nagito komaeda ♡
very persuasive when he's trying to get you to rest after a long work day
you finally choose rest and nagito over more paperwork you need to sort out
"tomorrow's always there" he reassures you
"oh and, make sure to take that off" he says, looking at your binder
you almost finished changing without doing so
nagito gives you some affirmations while you drift off to sleep
"you work too hard..." he sighs sadly. "goodnight~"
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