The fact that we have not had a single fic where Shelby goes into an unexpected heat on the island and ends up getting bred by Toni is a travesty and I lay the blame squarely on the shoulders of the puriteens who scared the smut writers away in the early days of the fandom.
The way a shoni abo fic would be so fucking good, especially when you factor in their enemies-to-lovers arc like omfg just think about it for a sec 😩😩😩 The way they wouldn't get along at first but would still feel this inexplicable draw to one another. They would be going through it. The existential crisis would be real™️.
In the beginning, Shelby couldn't stand Toni's hot-headedness and arrogance. Nor was she a big fan of how Toni was so dismissive of her. Leave it to an alpha to still exude that sort of annoying behavior when stranded on an island in a life-or-death situation. Yet, despite the gruff exterior and perpetual sour mood, Shelby found herself wanting to be close to Toni, wanting to comfort and care for Toni, wanting nothing more than for the alpha's full attention to be on her at all times. There were nights she could hardly sleep because the pain of not being right next to Toni, not being able to touch Toni the way she craved, was too much. It's all quite embarrassing, this inner turmoil of hers. The rational part of her that knows nothing could ever happen between the two of them versus the more primal side of herself that begs to be bent over and bred every time she catches a whiff of Toni's intoxicating scent. Two sides of herself battling it out for dominance. All this struggling and warring going on inside of her, and the girl who makes her feel this way, who makes her heart flutter and core ache, can't even stand to be around her.
But that's not entirely true, now is it? Because while Toni had been putting on this annoyed front, secretly, she'd found herself consumed with thoughts of the omega. Those first few days after they'd crash-landed, she had admittedly been relatively short with the other girl. She couldn't stand the sight of her perfect ponytail or that gold cross resting heavily on her chest. Her ever-present optimism and flare for the dramatics also drove Toni up the wall. But god, her scent was intoxicating, all-consuming, and mouth-watering. Toni tried to distance herself from the omega, but it never worked. The more she pushed Shelby away, the stronger her desire to protect and provide for her grew. This innate, animalistic drive really pissed Toni off. It was pitiful; the way she could feel her chest subconsciously puff when all the girls were hanging out, and Shelby decided to sit next to her. It was just awful how she would be overcome with a great sense of accomplishment anytime she managed to make Shelby smile. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't resist the urge to serve the omega, to be her alpha...and maybe...maybe Toni was okay with that.
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Winter Prompts! 15 & 29 for Reggie/Carrie?
@invisibleraven is to blame for suggesting Nuclear Winter Apocalypse AU and @salamandergoo for suggesting romantic bunkers at the end of the world in response to me complaining that it's hard to write winter fics in LA because the temperature is like Dutch Summer.
Also for @bananakarenina who asked for prompt 29 and the rarepair of my choice.
Reggie wasn't even supposed to be there when it hit. He was supposed to be at home, in Silver Lake, making himself a PB&J while he pretended his parents weren't both at separate bars drinking themselves to death.
At least they died doing what they loved, Reggie had thought once.
The point was, he wasn't supposed to be there. At Carrie's mansion. He'd been tutoring her in math, and when the warning had come, when Trevor Wilson had grabbed her and thrown her in the chopper, he'd kind of... herded Reggie along as well. And told him to shut up and not ask questions.
He shut up, didn't ask questions, and tried not to write his own True Crime podcast episode during the chopper ride. Rock Star Trevor Wilson goes insane, kidnaps daughter's classmate. They never found the body. When asked, Mr Wilson said he didn't like how the punk was looking at his daughter, with her cute little nose scrunch when she was thinking really hard...
Except he wasn't murdered. He was pulled into a luxury nuclear bunker of the rich and powerful, 15 minutes before the end of the world. They watched it on the TV, silent and horrified.
That had been two years ago. Sometimes, Reggie liked to sit at the big door to the outside world and watch the little screen. It was always snowing now. Also, it was one of the only places that was quiet and he could be alone.
Not that he hated everyone in the bunker, or anything. The Pattersons were nice, their son Luke had quickly become his best friend. His mom was some kind of high-ranking government official. Or maybe a spy. He wasn't sure. His dad was a university professor, teaching both Modern Politics and Philosophy.
The Molinas had been the one to take him in after it became clear that he wasn't exactly, um, planned to be here. Tía Victoria was a scientist, specialising in infectious diseases. Mr Molina, her brother-in-law, had been a photographer, but turned out to be really good at fixing computer systems too. He'd gotten their connection to the other bunkers across the world going.
He wasn't sure what had gotten the Mercers into the bunker. They had a top secret lab way down deep in the lower levels with a lot of security. They always seemed kind of put out that they had to share the bunker with other people at all. Their son Alex was really nice though, if you could get him away from his parents.
And of course, there was Famous Rich Rock Star Trevor Wilson, and Carrie. Carrie who held herself tight and controlled, and had set about making friends in that Pretty Popular girl way she had immediately, working the room. It was fascinating to see, but she was pretty much the only person the Mercers let Alex hang out with regularly.
But Carrie seemed angry with him pretty much all the time. Or maybe just the world. What was left of it. It was just that Reggie was the safest person to take it out on, he guessed, parentless, unplanned, a stupid mistake her father made in the heat of the moment. He tried not to begrudge her that, even if her comments and cold shoulder kind of hurt.
He'd tried to make himself useful. He did extra chores, he tried to keep Luke out of trouble and get Alex to smile. He never took more than his share of food. He usually slipped Carlos any treats they got (if he got one at all).
When he got sick, he tried to hide it. They were in a locked bunker, okay, he'd seen enough sci-fi movies about deadly pandemics. He was a risk. But of course Ray sent someone to find him when he didn't come home. He managed to evade them for a few days, but the sicker he got, the slower he got. When Julie finally found him, curled up behind some sheets in the laundry room, she felt his forehead and said 'you had a fever'.
He closed his eyes. They were going to send him outside through the air lock for the safety of what was left for humanity, he just knew it. He was going to miss his friends. He was going to miss talking about photography with Ray, and playing games with Carlos, and making faces at Alex behind his parents' back until he cracked a smile.
He may or may not have passed out then. That was probably for the best. Maybe he wouldn't feel his death. Maybe he could just slip away quietly, without pain.
Except he woke up in bed. Not his bunk bed in the room he shared with Carlos, a single bed, in a room he didn't recognise.
Was this some kind of... quarantine? The door opened, and he sat up. And then quickly scrambled to pull the sheets up, because yep, totally naked under those. He squinted at the person who came in, wearing a face mask and a hair . She was carrying a tray with something on it, something that smelled delicious.
"You shouldn't be contagious anymore, but I'm not taking any chances," the person said.
Oh, Carrie. Had she drawn the short straw? Why else would she be here?
He tried to speak, but his throat was so dry all that came out was a wheeze. Carrie squinted at him above her mask, before pushing over a bottle of water. He opened it and drank gratefully.
"They found the germs that made you sick," she said. "They were the cleaning supplies you used. Something about sponges and bacteria, blablabla I wasn't listening."
"Oh," Reggie said, fidgeting his fingers together. His stomach growled, and he blushed.
"Eat your soup," Carrie said, plunking the tray on his lap. He was glad she didn't seem to notice he was, well, pyjama-less at the moment. He tried to keep the sheets over his shoulder while he grabbed the spoon. God, this tasted so good. Was it because he hadn't eaten in a few days? After two bites, he ditched the spoon, grabbing the bowl and sipping from it.
Carrie was watching him, with a strange look on her face. Probably thinking about what a rude weirdo he was.
"You don't have to stay," he said, awkwardly.
"What, you don't want me to stay?" she snapped.
"I mean, you don't have to stay," he tried again. "I won't tell if you want to leave. If anyone asks I'll say you stayed with me the whole time to make sure I didn't choke or whatever reason they're making you stay."
"They're not making me do anything. I made you soup because I love you, you dense piece of sponge cake!" Carrie snapped at him. He gaped at her. She went on, flustered. "I mean, I just heated it up, I didn't make-it, make-it, but it's the thought that counts and it was from Dad's secret stash and if you tell on me I'll make sure you regret ever getting better and..."
"Hey Carrie," Reggie interrupted her, and she snapped her mouth shut and glared at him. "Thanks. I like you too. I ah... I always have. Since, you know, Before. I just... didn't think I'd have a shot, because you're you, and I'm... I'm me."
He'd been a nobody then. Just some poor kid from Carrie's class who happened to be good at math, so Mister Ratburn had set them up for tutoring. And now, he was still a nobody, here in this bunker full of important and smart and rich people.
"That's exactly why I like you," Carrie said, flopping down at the foot of his bed. "Because you're you. No matter where you are, you're always just Reggie. Sweet, helpful, sunshine Reggie. You never have to pretend because of the paparazzi or, or all these snobby smart scientists in the bunker, or..."
Oh. Maybe Carrie had felt a little bit of the same, down here. Considering her dad only got a spot because he was really rich and probably had connections or something. Like she didn't deserve to be here.
"Maybe you don't need to pretend either," he suggested gently. "You're pretty awesome when you're just being yourself, you know."
"Really?" she asked, half hopeful, half suspicious.
"Really."
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