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astoryisaloveaffair · 2 years

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Run Through the Jungle - a Naked & Afraid/Triple Frontier AU

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

*reader is vegetarian and ethnicity/weight inclusive. people of all sizes have competed on this show (and completed it)

Fic Summary: Benny Miller convinces his bestie Frankie to compete on the Naked and Afraid survival show. He has no idea what he’s walking into when he’s paired with you

*Naked and Afraid is a reality survival show on Discovery Channel where two contestants, a man and a woman (trans & non-binary inclusive) are paired with no food, clothes, or water in a hostile environment with only 1 survival item each. Contestants can tap out at any time but must make it to 21 days to win

Read on A03

Inspiration Spotify Playlist: Frankie’s Jungle Love Mix

»»———————►

Word Count: 20K

Rating: E, 18+, lemon

Warnings: large age gap (legal), size kink, discussions of killing, processing, and eating animals, cussing, PiV, oral (f & m), dirty talk, masturbation (m), face fucking, somnophilia, enemies to lovers, Pride and Prejudice vibes, ANGST, Frankie being a misogynistic DICK for a little bit

A/N: Someone needs to fucking stop me because my brain is ignoring SO MANY WIPS RIGHT NOW! HELP! This unasked for one shot was bred out of a binge watch weekend of this show, mentioning it in passing to @musings-of-a-rose, who then had the audacity to ask me, “what if Frankie were on that show?” and this is what happened. This is an AU. Triple Frontier hasn’t happened yet or won’t, I haven’t decided. Frankie doesn’t have kids yet. I hope you enjoy it, I’m really in love with this story.

If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t even think they’d pick him.

His friends had suggested it to him as a joke. Benny had apparently really gotten into the show and thought it would be awesome if Frankie applied. And by ‘awesome’, he really meant ‘hysterical’.

After years of service and traumatizing missions, Frankie had felt completely lost after his retirement from Delta Force. Antsy, paranoid, ill at ease. Nothing seemed to help, not therapy, drugs, sex, coaching Benny…nothing.

Until they had all gone on a camping trip a few years ago. And he loved it. For some reason, when he was out there, all the voices in his head went silent. The only things he heard were the environment and what he needed to do to conquer it, to survive it. Living in shitty situations was second nature, and the simplicity of focusing solely on what he needs to survive and how to get it narrowed his focus and quieted the demons in his head.

When they got home, he began taking any primitive survival course he could. Shelter building. Fire making. How to find potable water. Making and setting traps. Primitive weapon building.

After years of practice and hands-on experience, he started volunteering as a survival guide of his own. He’d never been happier, or more at peace.

He’d never seen the show, he wasn’t big on reality TV, but the prospect intrigued him. It would be the ultimate challenge, a way to prove himself and know for sure he’s the survivalist he thinks he is. So he applied.

And he got it.

It was a whirlwind after that. A parade of paperwork, zoom interviews, in person interviews, vaccinations, taking off from work, and eating everything he could set his sight on. Before he knew it he was hugging his friends goodbye, assuring them he wouldn’t give up, and after many kisses from his mother, he hopped a plane to head to Colombia for 21 days Naked and Afraid.

Survival he wasn’t worried about. He knew he would make it 21 days and beat the jungle. It was the ‘naked’ part. And the ‘working with an unknown woman’ part, that had him concerned. He wasn’t in the best shape, and now his ass would be traipsing around the rainforest for the entire world to see.

He’d thought about what he would want in a partner, what he wouldn’t. Someone older and capable, who wasn’t afraid of getting dirty. Someone who took direction well, wasn’t a burden, and hopefully somewhat attractive, since he’d be looking at her naked for three weeks. Hopefully she wouldn’t find him gross either, and the two of you would work well as a team. No princesses. No damsels. Preferably ex-military.

-Day One-

The ride was sobering. Sitting in the back of a bumpy Jeep Cherokee driven by a local while he props himself in front of the camera-men for his final interview before insertion. His heart is hammering in his chest at all the uncertainty, the slight self-doubt that always shadows the back of his mind rattling his nerves just enough to trigger his fight or flight. He just wanted to get it started already.

The Colombian jungle is oppressive even on the wide, bumpy dirt road cutting through it, and Frankie can feel the dense green pressing in on him, like it wants to keep him out. But it’s beautiful and rich, the air is humid but not terribly unpleasant yet. Certainly no worse than anything he’d camped in while in service. And this time he wouldn’t have to be worried about being shot at.

The jeep lurches as it stops and Frankie hops out, taking a heavy breath. He turns to the camera. “Alright well. Here we go.” He swallows and hesitates for a moment before sliding out of his flip flops and pulling his shirt off, the self consciousness of his softened tummy screaming loud in his ears. There’s been way worse on this show. Don’t worry about it.

He pushes through it, unbuttoning his pants and shoving his shorts and boxers off in one go, turning to toss everything in the back of the Jeep before saying one more signoff and entering the jungle to find his partner.

A small crew follows behind him with strict orders not to interact. A few camera-men, a producer, a medic, all will be camped nearby with all the resources he won’t have. He’s surprised it doesn’t feel more strange to have a camera almost up his ass, but it doesn’t really, not with everything else on his mind. It’s not long before he forgets about them all together as he continues down the hill through the trees to meet his partner.

To meet you.

----

You’re definitely nervous. This isn’t your first survival rodeo, but this is a whole different animal. It’s the Everest of survival challenges. You had no idea what was going to happen, but you were excited for it.

You weren’t fooling yourself. You weren’t out here to “make nature your bitch”, or conquer it. Because that would never happen. Nature conquers you. And you need to respect it to survive it. You think about your potential partner and hope he isn’t one of those uber machismo toxic energy guys who think the woman should stay back and tend the fire, tend to the shelter. Because that wasn’t you, not at all. You were young, yes, but you’re capable and confident, and you hope he won’t look down on you. You didn’t want to be passive, you wanted to do, you wanted to see what you were capable of. And you really hated being told what to do.

Maybe after this, when someone called you strong you’d actually believe it.

Nudity didn’t bother you. You didn’t really understand why people made such a big deal out of it anyways, it was just tits and ass. You shed your clothes with no hesitation, turning to smirk and wave at the camera before bounding in to meet your partner.

It takes long enough before you see him that you question for a second if this wasn’t all just some huge joke, but finally you see the flash of golden skin moving towards you between the trees as your partner appears before you with a goofy smile on his face.

You look right at his dick. Fuck, you just zing right to it against your willpower because it was big with a nice healthy patch of pubic hair and you hope to whatever is out there he didn’t catch you looking. Luckily when you jerk your eyes up and away he makes no indication he knew where you were looking.

“Um…hi.” He says, and you smile when you see the warmth in his eyes, the mop of curls on his head that are starting to wilt under the humidity.

This shit was awkward every time, even as a viewer, so you said ‘fuck it’ and opened your arms for a hug. “Hi, how are you? Nice to meet you!” You feel him melt a little as you roll onto your tiptoes and pat his shoulders and it makes you feel a little better that he’s clearly nervous too. You release him and take a step back. You tell him your name and he tells you his.

There’s an awkward silence, breaking as the two of you giggle nervously. You clear your throat. “Well, now that that’s over with….do you wanna see what’s in our bags?”

“Yea.” He turns to stand beside you where two burlap messenger bags are hanging from a tree, one for each of you. With him closer to you it’s easy to see how gigantic he is, his frame dwarfing yours. You sneak a look at his arms while he rifles through the bag, they are built but not ripped, golden skin lined with little freckles and scars. He was much older, you could see the gray hairs at his temple, but he seemed hearty.

“What did you bring?”

You look up to see him staring at you, like he’s already analyzing what your skillset is. You can’t really blame him. “I brought a fire starter. What about you?”

He pulls out a sheathed machete, withdrawing the blade to show you. “This.”

“Oh, awesome, that will be really helpful. And I think I have the map too.” You pull the map out and angle towards him so the two of you can plan your route. You can see his mind structuring a plan as his eyes dart around the vague map, the most unique hooked nose twitching while he thinks.

“Looks like there’s a river down here, and we will need to follow it anyway for extraction later. I’d be able to hopefully catch some game or some fish there.” He slides a thick finger across the page along the river to an X at the mouth of the river, where the jungle breaks and opens up to the sea. “So we should head there.”

You nod, adding your input. “I agree. But not too close. There are jaguars in this jungle and I don’t want to be in the middle of a game trail.” He nods and the two of you take off further into the jungle, the crew trailing quietly behind you. “So, Francisco, tell me some more about you.”

He pauses from leading the way, turning towards you and resting a palm on a thin tree. His fingers drag across the bark of it. “Oh.” He laughs, his smile is warm and he has a little dimple in one of his cheeks. “Fuck, I didn’t even…I’m already in ‘mission mode.’ And you can call me Frankie.”

You chuckle with him, trying to make him more comfortable. “Okay. So…Frankie. I’m guessing you’re ex-military?”

He nods. “Yea. Special Forces. I was a helicopter pilot. But, now I fly them contractually, do tours of the Rockies and stuff. I volunteer as a survival instructor in my spare time. You?”

You tell him where you're from and a little about your job and experiences as the two of you continue walking, promising each other you won’t let the other quit the challenge.

“So what are your skills that you bring to this challenge?”

You quirk your eyebrow up when he sneaks a glance at you, but again, you can hardly be offended by the question, considering. “I can build a lot of shelters and can make fire just about anywhere, I also know how to make baskets and cordage from various plants. And I’m vegetarian, so I have a lot of knowledge about what is edible, what is poisonous, and what can be used as resources.”

“You're…vegetarian?”

“Yes.”

“How do you intend to survive without any protein?” He sounds incredulous and it kind of pisses you off.

“Exactly how I told you. There are plenty of plants that provide protein.”

“...Okay, if you say so.”

“And what about you?” You retort. “What’re your skills?”

“Hunting and trapping, weapon-making, but I can build shelters and make fires also.”

Not a competition dude. You’re trying to keep an open mind, but your heart seized up when you realized he was a soldier. In your experience, they are extraordinarily stubborn, and often very misogynistic.

You hold your tongue and the two of you chat off and on as you make your way to the river. Other than his brusque questioning, the two of you get along well so far. It takes longer to get through the jungle barefoot than you anticipated, and when you see the position of the sun through a break in the canopy, you usher each other to speed up. You don’t have all day, and you still need to make a shelter, build a fire, and find water.

When you reach the river, you find a spot rather easily. There’s space tucked against a large tree that would be big enough for both of you. Frankie proposes a lean to shelter with a platform utilizing the tree and you agree. Sleeping on the ground amongst the bugs was not high on your “to-experience” list. The two of you separate to gather the materials to build it. Since he has the machete, he focuses on chopping and cutting branches for the frame while you harvest what you would need for cordage, padding and roofing. As you wander through the foliage grabbing palm fronds, leaves, and any edible nuts and berries, you take the time to take in your surroundings.

The trees were more spread out closer to the river, it let the sun shine through and warm your skin, dappling the surface of the river with its beams. You had chosen a spot with a large bank, a calm currant and easy to wade through, more of a stream than a river, your shelter planned about 40 feet up the hill. You could hear Frankie hacking away out of your line of vision, and you plead to the air that he doesn’t over-exert himself trying to put on a show.

The humidity and heat has already increased, and you feel it take its toll on you only just a few hours in. It would be so easy for him to be reckless and over-do it. It wouldn’t be the first time someone was medically tapped out because they didn’t listen to their body. You try to focus instead on the soft ripple of the water, of the jungle birds above you, the occasional monkey hooting with disgust at your presence.

You make several trips, and after a couple hours, you and Frankie have collected a sizable amount of materials. You urge him to take a break after so much activity but he blows it off.

“We don’t have much time left before it gets dark. I’ll be fine..”

You try again. “A small break won’t hurt Frankie. I’m worried about you getting dehydrated.” He blows you off again, further cementing your perception that he wants to be ‘the man’ and keep control in the situation. It had been a long walk to where you were supposed to go, and you knew you would have to take some time to-replenish eventually. You decide to pick your battles and turn to start constructing a fire bed with leaves and dry debris next to where the platform will go. Your quiet work draws his attention, and he finally does come over to you and plops down on the ground beside you.

This was the defining moment, you knew. You needed to assert that you belonged here, that your opinions had validity, that you have just as good of a skillset. You breathe in, centering yourself before bending down and striking the flint of the fire-starter against the kindling.

It takes only 6 strikes, the ember flaring up in the pile of debris as Frankie cheers you on. You lean in to blow on it so it will spread while he hustles to get you more leaves, throwing them on in excitement before pulling you up into a hug. You can’t stop smiling at the praise.

“That was awesome! You did that so fast! Good girl, good job!”

You wouldn’t process that’s what he said until much later.

----

Fuck, you were cute. You were cute and young and he could not believe he looked straight at your tits first thing before yanking his gaze back up to your eyes. He hoped you hadn’t noticed. He had thought he would die from mortification, but you dove right in for a hug, setting him at ease despite the fact your boobs were now on him. But you didn’t care, and it makes him feel silly for being self-conscious. He wasn’t here for…that. Though it’d been a while. And you had a nice ass.

He had hesitations, you were half his age and a vegetarian at that, and he worried you wouldn’t be able to back up the skills you claimed. But you proved him wrong, getting right to work and starting a fire faster than he’d ever seen anyone.

He’d pushed hard, he knew he shouldn’t and knew your opinion about it, but he felt the need to work harder, to prove himself to you, maybe even impress you. Not for any romantic reason, but he wants you to feel safe, provided for, making sure all the heavy tasks were firmly his territory.

After securing the fire you’d immediately direct him on how to shave bamboo to boil water in, and before long, the two of you had potable water that actually tasted pleasant. Frankie hadn’t realized how dehydrated he’d been, and when he drank it felt like he could actually feel the water being distributed in his system. You were right. You were good. Not that he doubted it. You’d made it on this show, after all.

And now you were on the ground on the batch of leaves beside a half constructed frame, so fucking close to him, his body almost spooning yours. It’d taken much longer to build the shelter and re-hydrate than he thought it would, and he begs silently for the night to go by smoothly.

You’re curled away from him barely 5 inches away, the fire beside you as you try to settle down for the night. You had both agreed that if it got cold enough, you were both alright with cuddling for warmth.

He can smell the scent of your hair and the slight tang of dirt and perspiration, your skin looks young and soft in the low light of the fire and he almost wants to wrap his arm around you to bring you closer, get warmer, keep you safe. He doesn’t. He’s warm enough for now.

----

Frankie jerks up out of the nest, his ears pricked as he hears the rustling intensify. He whispers your name. “Don’t panic, but there’s something right there.”

You lean into him more so you can turn your head and whisper back. “Where?”

He takes you by the wrist gently and guides your hand so you’re pointing right at it. It’s warm from the fire and slightly sticky from sweat. He doesn’t feel how his touch raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Right there. I dunno what it is though.” You continue to watch for movement in the dark, eyes wide as you strain to see any flicker of something only yards away. The howler monkeys are screaming above you and increase your panic, making it more difficult to pinpoint the increased rustling. You utilize the two diary cams you were given, the light allowing you to see further into the trees. You see nothing.

But it is there, stalking with a heavy footfall, making no attempt not to brush against the trees and the leaf debris on the ground. It was circling you.

“Frankie, my heart is beating so fast.”

His large palm cups your shoulder, pulling you against him more and you go willingly, noticing how he shifts his burlap bag to be a thin barrier between your ass and his crotch. “I got my machete right here. It’ll be okay.”

You didn’t sleep much that night.

-Day Two-

“Morning of day 2.” You sigh as you hold the diary cam in front of your face. “I’m really tired. We didn’t get much sleep at all last night. Those monkeys were going insane. I thought they were going to come down and hurt us. And then there’s something out there that’s stalking us. I don’t think it’s the monkeys. Frankie’s over there sharpening his machete.”

As if on cue you hear a loud cuss, and you sit up out of the sand bank and look behind you. “Frankie? You okay?”

“Yea…yea, just nicked myself.” He looks at his finger again and grumbles while the blood blooms from the gash in his fingertip.

“Well don’t just stare at it, you gotta put pressure on it to stop the bleeding.” He either doesn’t hear you or ignores you, so you heave yourself out of the sand with a sigh and walk up to him, hands on your hips. “Frankie. You need to hold the pressure on it so it will clot and stop bleeding so much.”

He waves you away. “Nah, I’m fine. It’s okay.”

“I could create a bandage for you out of leaves, you should have it protected because if it gets inf—”

“Nah, if I need it, I’ll come to you.” He responds with finality.

Stubborn ass. “You’re not listening to me.”

“Nope, I’m not. I don’t want a bandage. Really. Men don’t need bandages on little cuts like this if they don’t have to. I’ve had hundreds of cuts like this. And we still have a lot of work to do.”

You sigh. “Are men invincible to infection?”

His brow furrows and he digs his heels into his choice. “Yes.”

“Fine…whatever.” You stalk off, muttering under your breath. Dumbass. Sitting there touching all these things and bleeding everywhere. Even though it wasn’t too bad, it was a huge risk to not do something so simple to prevent infection. He was being completely ridiculous.

Frankie glares at you as you walk away. “Don’t need anything for a damn nick. I’ve been in the frickin’ jungle before, I don't need to be taught about injuries out here…” He huffs out a frustrated breath, popping his thumb into his mouth to suck off the blood.

“Putting it in your mouth is even worse.”

He sighs and throws his hands in the air. “I can’t win.”

Frankie heaves himself up and gets to work cutting more bamboo for the completion of the shelter, working through the injury silently just to prove to you you were wrong. You had to admit that he was right. You couldn’t stop working, and he had to push through it. You had to complete your shelter, get more firewood, boil more water, maybe even try and forage for food.

Despite your differences, you work together well as a team in Frankie’s opinion, as long as he’s in charge. When it’s complete, you go your separate ways to find some food. You head deeper into the forest for edible plants, and Frankie perches on the large rocks in the stream, turning over rocks hoping to find some mussels or crabs.

He had no success, but you did. You return with your arms full of dark green leaves, putting them down by your shelter and holding a piece out to Frankie. “It’s river cabbage!” He frowns, but reaches out to pull a small piece off and stuffs it in his mouth. You let him chew, laughing internally about his sour expression. “Well?”

“Taste’s like a leaf.”

“This cabbage has a lot of the proteins and nutrients we will need.”

“Well good for you, I can’t survive 21 days on just that. I need more than that.”

You spend the rest of the day exploring for other resource options, pausing to have a brief argument over whether or not Frankie should drink from a non-stagnant pool fed by a waterfall when you have a perfectly workable and safe way of getting water, but once again, you lose that battle.

-Day Five-

The next few days pass much the same. Foraging. Getting water. Stocking firewood. Frankie set several snares and deadfall traps along game trails and animal holes. You made yourself a little reed skirt to cover your ass and crotch. You argued with Frankie, who was particularly insufferable when his water theory proved right and he didn’t get sick. But you would still huddle close, talk about random things when you couldn’t sleep, picking ticks off each other in the night. And despite how hungry and tired you were becoming, you weren’t even close to wanting to quit.

But the effects of not sleeping, not eating, not having enough water hit you hard by the sixth day, your body was sore and fatigued and the two of you decided to have a more relaxing day.

Frankie hated seeing you uncomfortable. The primal instinct to protect you reared back to life, and he remembered what Will told him before he left.

Take care of her. She’s going to be like your wife. You’re jungle wife. You gotta look out for each other.

“Hey.” You’re lying back in the sand by the river bank twiddling with some cordage. You turn your head towards Frankie as he ambles towards you. “So, I’m gonna go back up to that waterfall area to get more water.”

You nod, shifting to move. “Alright, let’s go.”

“You’re gonna stay here.”

“...What? Why?!”

“Just cause I’m gonna get the water. No-no-no.” He holds his hands out to cut you off as you protest. “You’re tired, you need rest. You’re gonna stay here. I need you to relax.”

“But I can get water. I feel fine.”

“I’m asking you to please stay here.”

“And I’m telling you that I know my own body and I’m fine. We can get twice the water back here if I go.”

He steps back, rubbing his eyes as he heaves another frustrated sigh. “Fine. You wanna disobey, fine. Just do whatever then.”

You jerk back almost as if he had hit you. “Um…excuse me? Disobey? I’m not a dog.”

“I want you to stay.”

You stand up and grab the walking stick you made. “I’m ready.”

“Fine. You wanna be like that? Fine. Hurry up then.”

----

He was unbearable. The most difficult and stubborn individual you had ever been around, and you had to be with him 24 hours a day, for three weeks. You want to scream. Or punch him. You can’t stand when people tell you what to do, order you around like you were fresh into the army. No one does that. Not anymore. You do whatever the fuck you want, when you want to.

The silence is palpable as you collect water from the falls, and Frankie can’t stand it. “...So what are you gonna do next?”

You shrug, not even meeting him in the eye.

“What, are you like not talking to me now?”

“Sounds like you want to tell me what I should be doing.”

“I just want to take care of you, look out for you! What is the problem with that?!”

“I don’t need you to do that. I can do it myself. Don’t presume you can just march up to me and tell me what to do.”

“No, listen, it’s not that, I–. Look, I’m a guy, I see a woman in distress, a woman not feeling good and I wanna do what I can to help her.”

You don’t respond, standing up and gathering your bamboo shafts full of water as you carefully move away from the falls. Frankie turns to the camera-man beside him. “Silent treatment. Look at this. I’m fine, I'm not angry, she’s angry at me!” He stands up quickly and hops from rock to rock recklessly to chase you. “Hey! Please be careful.”

“You are everything I didn’t want in a partner. You’re such a stubborn, misogynistic ass.” You turn to him with a sneer, balanced perfectly on a rock.

“Wow, okay, all this from me seeing you needed rest and trying to take the burden? I was worried about you! I care, it’s about compassion!?”

“Caring is not bossing someone around.”

Frankie grunts, throwing his hands up at your back. “Let me just shut up then, because anything I say you’ll use against me.” When you make it back to camp he trudges away into the woods in a dramatic huff. You don’t encourage him with a response. You refuse to be an audience for his behavior.

----

He doesn’t even know where he’s going. He’s just walking, pacing back and forth away from the shelter as he calms down and composes his thoughts.

“I was just trying to be helpful. I thought she was tired…I just wanted to help, I wasn’t trying to order her around.” The camera-man shrugs and Frankie sighs, looking up into the sky. The howler monkeys are quiet today, and he can actually hear the birds singing. The constant lingering feeling of being watched by something has dissipated.

You are everything I didn’t want in a partner.

He winces. “Crap.” That’s not who he is…or that’s not the man he wants to be.

She’s your jungle wife.

He heads back to camp.

You’re sitting under lean-to quietly, constructing a basket to help you gather more items on your treks. You don’t look up when he comes out of the trees. “You’re back.”

“I’m back. How are you feeling?”

You stare at him dead-eyed. “Frankie…I don’t want you to think I’m mad at you, but I don’t like being told what to do. No one does. Not even you.”

He nods, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Okay. Then I’m really sorry.”

“...Okay.” You return your attention to your basket, and Frankie moves off to work on something else.

You sleep very far apart that night. It sucked. It was kind of chilly.

-Day Seven-

He can’t find anything. It’s pissing him off. No oysters, no crabs, no crawfish…nothing. He was starving. He could feel his muscles protesting every time he moved, felt the fat melting off his tummy and ass, his body beginning to feed itself as it searches for nutrition. He’s barely consuming 50 calories a day, and he’s burning it off faster than he can get it.

He finds tiny snails and cooks them, feeling a little bad when you realize the only way to cook them is to roast them alive. “Listen…” He tries to soothe. “I know it's harsh, but they’re snails. They don’t have feelings.”

“Well how do you know that? Maybe they do. It’s still a life.” You sigh. “I’m sorry. You’re used to meat and you need to eat, I know that. …Just seeing them squirming and exploding sucks.”

He does his best to be diplomatic. He has to make this work. You need each other. “Okay. I hear you, and I respect your beliefs.”

“...Okay.”

“I mean, I think it’s kinda nuts but…”

You can’t keep the smile growing on your face. “...Are you calling me crazy?”

“I didn’t say ‘crazy’. I said ‘a little nuts’. Big difference.”

“I don’t think it’s nuts to stand up for my beliefs, no matter how small you think they are. Even if it’s a snail. You’re taking it’s life.��

He looks at you then, really looks at you. Warm brown eyes clear and give you absolute attention for what feels like the first time this entire challenge. He’s trying to reach out, trying to understand you. You look away, resting your head on your arms.

He stands up and stretches, reaching down to grab his ‘plate’. “I’m going to go get some more, clean this up.” He carefully picks his way back to the rock where he’d found the snails in the first place. He looks up at the camera-man. “I feel bad…so, I’m gonna let these ones go. I can come back for them if I need them.” He nods to himself, carefully plucking the remaining tiny snails from his bamboo plate and tucking them back into the water with care.

He’d never really thought about it before. He’d never eat a dog, or a cat, or some exotic and beautiful endangered animal, but he had never thought twice about cattle when he ordered a steak, cooked a hamburger. He wonders if maybe the military desensitized him to the value of life more than he thought, and he vows from now on that when he eats a living creature, he’d respect it as a life and be thankful. He trots back to you to tell you.

“Hey! So, um, I put the rest of them back.”

Your head whips up and you stare at him, your lips parting as you search the truth in his face. His heart rate speeds up and makes him dizzy from the lack of food, and he realizes it’s because he’s anxious to see how you feel. He cares about your opinion of him, like actually cares.

You blink rapidly. “You— you did?”

His large hand stretches up to cup the back of his neck, fingers trailing through the dirty curls at the nape of his neck. You’d noticed it’s something he does when he’s agitated or nervous. Or bashful. “Yea. I didn’t need them right now. They’re still there if I need them later. Not goin’ anywhere.”

The brightest smile blooms across your face and he almost missteps in the sand at how brilliant it is and how it makes his chest pinch ever so slightly. You cup your hand around his calf and slide your palm up and down the back of it briefly before taking him by the hand and tugging him to sit. He doesn’t know why but he has trouble meeting your eyes.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“No problem. No big deal.” He grunts.

You hand him some edible berries. “Want some of this?”

He nods, looking down as your small fingers deposit the berries into his rough calloused palm, amazed at how your skin is so luminescent even caked and streaked in mud.

----

It was really chilly that night. No wind, but it just settled on you, and 70 degrees feels much different when you have no clothes on. You’re tucked around the fire and Frankie is a few feet away on his back, staring out at the stars and fingering the burlap of the bag resting over his crotch. He thinks about how much harder this was then he thought it would be, and that maybe he should have watched more episodes to prepare. He thinks about how lately when he stands up he gets king of dizzy. He has to stop being so stubborn and eat the food that you’re providing. He needs to sit down and make heavier duty traps tomorrow. Maybe you will make a fish basket even though you don’t eat meat.

His mind drifts to you, wondering what your family is like, if your friends are as feisty as you, what else you like to do for fun. If you have a boyfriend or girlfriend. If you’d keep in contact after all of this.

“Frankie?”

“Hmmm?”

“It’s cold. Can you come closer?”

He shuffles closer, the side of his body just an inch from your backside. You look over your shoulder. “No, we need to cuddle. It’s for my benefit as well as yours.”

“Oh, okay, yea that’s a good idea.” He shifts, rolling to his side while making sure the burlap bag is still covering him, scooting up against you until your skin is flush with his, your back sinking into the warmth of his chest and your ass in the cup of his hips. “Good?”

You grunt, reaching back to grab his hand to pull it forward, wrapping his arm around you and against your stomach. His leg goes with it, a calf sliding between yours and he instantly feels the increase in warmth from that simple switch in position.

He hums deeply against you, and you feel it rumbling against your back. It feels…good. Comforting and warm. He’s so fucking warm, burning almost as warm as the fire in front of you. You close your eyes, taking in the press of his chest against your back as he breathes, the tang of his sweat that smells more good then bad.

The two of you settle, and the camera-men pack it up and head back to their own area for the night, leaving you alone to the night as usual with only your diary cams. It’s relatively quiet, the howler monkeys giving it up for the night after screaming non stop for an entire week, resigning themselves to the fact that you will be here a while. Instead, you can hear the chirps of insects, the creak of the trees, the crackle of the fire. The soft sound of Frankie humming against you.

“Your hair still smells good.” He mumbles after a while.

“It does? What does it smell like?”

You feel a tickling, the tip of his nose pushing against the crown of your head and swirling in a little circle as he inhales. “MMmmm like…coconuts. And cookies. And sweat.”

“Ew.” You laugh. “I’m sorry.”

“S’not bad. It’s just…you.”

“Oh.”

You let the silence fall once more, then suddenly tilt your face back to him again.

“You smell like shit.”

He bursts out laughing behind you, you can feel the release of air against your shoulder and you join him, his chest quivering as he gains his composure.

----

You feel so fucking good in his arms, the tremble of your frame as you giggle against him and it’s like the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. He holds you against him a little tighter and you release a small sigh as you finally drift off to sleep.

You’ve been finding it harder than him to sleep out here, and he’s relieved as he feels you become limp in his arms, happy you might finally get some good sleep. You’re so small and he’s so much older than you, he realizes he feels protective of you, even though you’ve proven you can take care of yourself. It’s different when you’re curled up, against him like a little cat. You fit so perfectly against his own body.

You whimper and squirm in your sleep, your ass wriggling and you slightly push back against him, the pressure against his dick making him bite back a soft moan. Fuck. Fuck! NO! No no no, no boners, no. Chairs. My grandma. Pope’s hairy ass.

He’s suddenly aware that he’s gone this entire time not even thinking about…that. Those urges just don’t feel so important when you’re tired and hungry and exposed to the wilderness. It reminds him that he had found you attractive when he first looked at you. The round curves of your hips and the perkiness of your tits, your sparkling eyes and pretty hair.

But right now, you finally have a calm night. The fire is high and there’s plenty of wood to burn, you’d eaten a somewhat decent meal of river cabbage and a rare find of guanabana. Whatever animal had been stalking you off and on since the first day was quiet, and the bugs weren’t too annoying. His mind could wander to other things, like how you looked using his machete to hack down leaves to re-pad your bed, the way your back arches when you stretch in the morning, tits pointing to the sky. Or the swell of your ass when you were lying on your stomach in the sand, peeling apart a fruit. That one time he caught you doing some light yoga moves to boost your fatigue, your ass perked up as you bent down to touch your toes. How he’d wanted the little grass skirt you’d made to shift just so slightly so maybe he could see more of you.

Fuck.

He was getting fucking hard, and he shifts his hips back a little so he doesn’t poke you in the ass but you shift with him, seeking the warmth from his body. Your ass bumps against him again and he stifles a moan as his hips involuntarily buck into you with a slight roll. His hand grips you tighter against the stomach, finger pads pressing into the shrinking swell of your tummy skin as he loses himself in it, grinding against you again with another soft moan.

It’s too much, his brain is not working right and he’s hungry and tired and thirsty, and you were so warm, and holy fuck he was about to rip that burlap bag off of himself and push his cock deep inside you, fucking you on the ground as you cried out in his arms. And then it comes back to him so suddenly, his reality slamming back into the front of his mind he’s surprised he doesn’t actually get whiplash.

You barely knew each other. You weren’t his girlfriend. And you were asleep. He releases you with a curse and pulls away from you, scooting away across the ground as he sits up. You stir, jostled by his arm leaving your waist.

“Frankie?”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you. Just…gotta take a piss. I’ll be right back.”

“Mmmkay.”

He grabs the diary cam, opening it so it lights his way as he tiptoes out and into the dark. He shouldn’t go too far, but he doesn’t want you or the crew to hear him. He has to take care of it, it’s only natural what happened but he can’t let it interfere with the challenge. It probably would have happened with any partner.

He finds a thick tree, pressing his back against the bark to support him as he grabs himself, careful not to go beyond the foreskin. His hands are filthy and a bacterial infection would suck. He squeezes his shaft, starting slowly but quickening his strokes faster than he normally would.

Just take care of it, and then get your ass back there and warm her up. He thinks about how your ass felt against him, he could have shifted forward and gently pushed that grass skirt aside to see if you were wet and waiting for him between your thighs. He thinks about how small you are compared to him, how many fingers you could take inside you, how much of a struggle it would be to stuff his cock as deep as he can go. He’s so big compared to you, he might be able to just lift you up and down his cock himself.

He’s panting hard and it’s making him light-headed but he’s almost there, just needs one more push. He thinks about if this were caveman times and how he would just march over there and pull you to him and fuck you into the goddamn dirt, loud enough the entire fucking jungle would know you were his and—

“FUcccckk.” He cums a lot, spurts of it shooting out in the dark onto the forest floor while he tries to keep his moans down. He bites his lip and tilts his head back, the crown of his head bumping the bark of the tree as he empties himself completely until the only sounds are his recovering breaths, the trickling of the stream, the rustling of leaves, and the low growl of–

“What the fuck! Shit!” He swivels around to the other side of the tree but the thing just follows him, slowly circling. He thinks he can almost see its flashing eyes in the dark. He rips his bag open to grab his machete, his breath leaving him when he realizes that he fucking left it back at camp.

He has to run. It’s too close, and it’s not here for anything else. He turns to haul ass back to camp in the hope it would steer clear of the fire but he almost crashes into you arriving with the machete in one hand and a makeshift torch in the other.

“No no! Come on. It’s a giant fucking cat, we gotta go to the fire!”

But you ignore him, yelling at the top of your lungs before raising both arms in the air with your makeshift weapons, stomping forward at the jaguar he knows is back there.

“FUCK OFFFF!” You roar, and Frankie’s senses come back to him and he kneels, grabbing anything he can get in his hands and throwing them as hard as he can into the area he thinks the cat is in. You hear a low chuff and the sounds of leaves rustling again, but then….quiet. You press your back to Frankie’s so all sides are covered, but after several minutes you know it’s gone, you can just feel it is. That oppressive feeling of being watched, leered at, has lifted. You turn to Frankie and thrust his machete into his hand, grabbing him by the wrist to run back to camp.

When you get there you throw the torch away and all but dive bomb into the lean to. Frankie collects you around the waist and pulls you against him. You’re breathing hard, your eyes wild and darting around and he can tell you’re starting to hyperventilate.

He cups the back of your head, dragging you the rest of the way onto his lap where you collapse onto his shoulder. He can feel the warm puffs of your adrenaline fueled breath and he slowly starts rubbing your back up and down, cooing in your ear as he watches the entrance of the small shelter for further danger.

“Holy shit.” You whisper after a few minutes.

“You okay?”

“Yes, yea. Just…I can’t believe I did that. You were gone so long and I got worried.”

He laughs, but it sounds more like a choked sob. “God, fuck, I’m so mad you did that but I’m so thankful you did that.”

“Of course I did. You’re my partner.”

“Yea.”

Time slows, the sounds of the jungle fuzzes out and blends together as you hold each other and calm down, but he finds that when you start to pull away from him, he doesn’t want to let go.

But he does. You clamber off him awkwardly and the silence between you two is deafening. It feels like it takes forever for you to meet his eyes, and his heart drops into his stomach when he considers the fact that you’d probably seen…that.

But you don’t say anything, so neither does he.

-Day Nine-

Frankie settles down in the sand to construct some bird traps, and you sit beside him, acquiescing to his request to make a fish basket. You’re quiet, you don’t talk much but something has shifted, and Frankie feels much more comfortable with you. He hopes you feel the same.

He goes on his own to set the traps and lay the fish basket higher up in the stream of the river where it’s wider. When he returns, he doesn’t see you, and he panics for a second before a splashing sound draws his attention. He looks to the stream and sees you coming out of a deeper pool, twisting your hair to get residual water out.

You’re wading out in the early evening rays of the sun looking like some kind of wilderness goddess and as hard as he tries, he can’t look away from you. Rivulets of water run between your breasts and down to your belly button, the curve of your waist sloping into the rounds of your hips as they emerge from the water. You look like a fucking Bond girl.

And you don’t have the grass skirt on. His brain completely shuts down, paralyzing his body, limbs rooted to the ground as the desire for you jams him up from making any quick decision, and before he knows it, you see him staring at you and head towards him with a sweet smile.

“Hey! How’d it go?”

“Good.” He replies much too quickly, but you just nod and head back towards the shelter.

----

It’s late. He’s not sure what time but he knows he’s up and you’re up too, because you keep poking at the fire. He cups your bicep with his warm palm to get your attention, and you tilt your head to look back at him.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable today.”

You furrow your brow. “What do you mean?”

“Earlier, I...was staring at you. You caught me.”

You laugh, and it sounds stupid but Frankie actually thinks he feels butterflies in his chest. “Don’t worry about it. We’re naked and sometimes biology just…has to do its thing. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“No.” He wonders if you’re insinuating you saw him, but you say nothing more as you turn back to the fire, and he continues to worry, feeling like he needs to be more convincing how not attracted to you he is. He blurts it out before his mind has a chance to rephrase it. “You must be half my age.”

“They probably do that on purpose, like putting oil and vinegar together. How…old are you? I never asked.”

“46.”

“That’s not that old. There’s been older on here.”

“And you?”

“25.”

Shit. She’s fucking young, and I…

“Hey Frankie?”

“Yea?”

“About the other day…I don’t do well with people telling me what to do.”

“I know, and I’m sorry—“

“No, I mean, there’s a reason. I dated a guy a while ago.” You release a breath, Frankie can feel your back heaving against his skin. “He was really controlling. I couldn’t go anywhere without telling him and he had to direct everything I did. It cut me off from friends, family. It took forever to get away from him. He…scared me. So, I’m extra sensitive. It brings me back to that place and I don’t like it.”

Frankie doesn’t know what to say, so instead he cups your bicep and squeezes, feeling the tension in your frame against him. “I’m sorry. I get it. Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me that.”

You say nothing, closing your eyes to try to finally fall asleep.

“We aren’t all like that, you know.”

“If you say so…” Your response is cute and slurred, and it feels good that he can finally, finally provide you with something, even if it’s not what he expected it would be. Trust. Comfort. Friendship.

-Day Twelve-

The snares are catching nothing. Neither are the traps. Frankie can feel his body breaking down, his muscles are weak and he’s never been so tired in his life. The cabbage and berries keep him from starving but his body is used to meat and needs that protein to function.

He finds himself mis-stepping more, his brain’s synapses not firing fast enough causing him to be less coordinated. And so, when he was shaving bamboo for new water containers, his machete slipped and sliced his finger open. Again.

“Ah! Shhhhhhhiizzzzz..!” He growls, trying not to cuss on camera.

“Frankie? You okay?”

“Yea! Ummm no, I cut myself again!”

“I’m coming!”

You emerge from the forest where you were foraging for plants, floating towards him like an angel. You stand next to him and put your hands on your hips, ready for another fight. “That one’s kinda bad.”

His entire fingertip is sliced deep, he’s putting pressure on it like you’d told him to last time, but you can see some blood seeping out between his fingers. “Just hold it until it slows down, I’ll be right back.” He nods and you march back into the forest, scanning the brush for what you need. You grab a large palm frond with rows of thin, long leaves and a big banana leaf before returning, grabbing some of your freshly made cordage and a bamboo cask of fresh water. You sit down in front of him, cupping his giant hands in yours. You can barely get yours around them. “How’s it going? Do you think we should call a medic?”

He peeks under a finger. “No. I think it’s slowed down.”

“Good, lemme see. Hopefully you won’t need a stitch.”

He grunts but fights against his stubbornness, letting you open his fist and inspect the slash. He watches silently as you pour some water over his finger to clean it, then grab the banana leaf and fold it in half several times until it makes a small little pad. You press it to his cut, then begin wrapping one of the long and thin leaf around the finger to secure that in place. Finally, you pull a small vine out of one of your cords and wrap it around his finger too, tying it neatly atop his fingernail to seal the whole thing together.

“Hmmm. There. That should be good, but try not to get it dirty. I don’t want it to get infected. I’ll recheck it tomorrow and do another clean.” When you look up he’s looking at you, eyes wide and soft. His brow is slightly furrowed and he reminds you of a puppy, big brown eyes holding an emotion you can’t place. You feel your cheeks burn, and you pat the side of his hand and release them.

He puts his hand on your knee. You feel the hairs rising up on your legs and arms, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. “Thanks.”

You can’t meet his eyes. “No problem.” You stand abruptly, rushing off like an idiot towards the stream, choosing a rock baking in the sun that’s hopefully out of his eyeline.

What the fuck is going on?

By now you know what it feels like when you stand up too fast, when you don’t find food, when you overdo it in the sun. This isn’t that.

This…was completely unexpected. You didn’t come out here for this, but you can’t deny your feelings. You liked him. You actually liked this ridiculous, stubborn, arrogant mess of a man you were paired with that was so opposite to you in every single way. He was old. He ate meat, he’s stubborn and borderline unbearable to be around, he was kind of misogynistic, he was…he was changing.

You sit up and look back over at him, he’s looking at the finger you bandaged, fingering it carefully like he’s caressing the spot your hand was. Your breath is quickening and it’s making you lightheaded from little food, so you lay back onto the rock surface to calm the dizziness.

You couldn’t deny you’d thought him handsome when you first saw him. He was broad, with wide rounded shoulders, a strong neck, a sharp jaw and the most unique nose you’d ever seen. It all somehow suited him perfectly. His skin was warm and golden and his eyes were like milk chocolate with the softest lashes. A full head of curly hair despite his age, the only show of that in the sporadic gray hairs throughout his mop and the short ones along his temple.

And over time, the light scruff had grown along his jaw, streaked with gray with patches missing in it that stayed there even as the rest of the hair kept growing around it. It was cute and endearing, and you’d hated it when you realized that’s what you thought about it.

His arms were thick and strong, a broad sternum tapering in and then sloping back out into a little soft tummy that had gone down throughout your challenge. You liked it better when it was bigger. You liked the light trail of hair that gathered around his belly button, leading to the area below he always tried to keep covered with his bag. The area hiding the absolute giant dick he had. Now that you think about it, it was nice. You want to see it again.

You think of how strong he felt when he’d hugged you after making the fire, when he—

Good girl.

Shit.

When you turn to look at him again, he’s up and heading to you, so you try to calm yourself down and ignore the ache growing low in your belly, looking away from him because now you know it would be a completely different way.

“Hey, just wanted to let you know I’m goin’ to check the traps, maybe wander around a bit. Okay? You good?”

You clear your throat and nod, turning your head to the side acting like you’re scratching your ear. “I’m good. Thanks for letting me know. I might look for firewood but I won’t go far.”

He nods and turns away, and god dammit, you can’t help but look at his cute little ass.

----

So, it wasn’t a one time deal. Frankie was fucked. He liked you a lot. You were so different than him, so gentle and kind but fierce also, and he thinks back at all the times you yelled at him or stood up to him with heat burning his cheeks. You saw value in everything, you were persistent and understanding, and he wishes he’d behaved better earlier in the challenge, because he’d been an absolute dick. He was regretting it.

He’s so lost in his mind he almost doesn’t even see it, only alerted by the flash of reddish-brown skin and the soft crunching as the snake slides through leaf debris, squeezing itself between a large rock and the base of a tree.

His heart drops in his chest and he wrestles with himself whether to run or sneak, ultimately choosing the former as he darts forward with his machete raised, catching the snake's tail just as it’s about to disappear into the hideaway, yanking it out with a wide sweep of his arm and flinging it to the ground a few yards away.

The thing is pissed, and he pauses momentarily when he realizes it’s a fucking pit viper. Venomous. It coils its body tightly behind its head, raising up with a hiss in warning. It’s a huge risk, but he’s too hungry to let it go. He grabs a stick off the ground and moves quickly, pressing the split blunt end of the stick where the back of the jaw meets the ground, pushing down to pin the animal in place. The snake only gets angrier, its back end flailing around as it tries to free itself and turn to bite him. But it's too late, the machete is swung once, twice, and it's over, and Frankie plops down on his ass to the ground to catch his breath.

When the end of the animal stops moving, he moves toward it, knocking the still toxic head away as he collects the body. He leans back on his heels and closes his eyes, lifting his head to the canopy. “Thank you…” He whispers to the jungle. “Thank you so much.” He looks down once more at the snake in his hands, speaking to it as if it could hear him. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry but I’m hungry. Thank you.”

He looks like sunshine when he returns to camp with the snake in his hands, but when he sees you he halts, holding it behind his back like a child caught in the cookie jar.

You huff out a laugh. “Frankie, it’s…okay. I know you have to eat, you don’t have to hide it. I’m glad you got something.”

He looks uncertain but comes towards you, sitting a little behind you so he can process the animal without you having to see it. “This is a good find. Lots of protein for me. Almost didn’t even see it. I…feel bad.”

You turn, your mouth twitching at the sight of the snake’s skin being peeled from its body. “Wait. Frankie…what is that?”

“A snake.”

“No I mean…is that a viper?”

“Yea! It was crazy! He was tryin’ to get away and I yanked him right out of the rock.”

You hold your palms up. “Are you telling me that you chased an extremely venomous snake, alone, and grabbed it with your bare hands? Are you insane?! That snake can kill you with one bite!”

He frowns. “I had a stick and the machete. And I’m fine!”

“That was a huge risk. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”

“Yea I know, I’m sorry…but I got it, and I tried to respect it. I don’t know how to do it so I just thanked it after. That probably sounds stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t. But don’t do something that stupid again.” You stand up and head into the shelter to rest so you don’t have to see him eat.

-Day Fourteen-

The energy from that one snake felt like Frankie was suddenly on steroids, after having so little for so long, but as the days passed he was heading back to the same place, hungry and with no hint of food. He needed to find something today. There were ominous clouds darkening the sky, and if it rained bad enough, they might be confined to the shelter. He was so thankful for you, you’d spent the day gathering as much as possible before racing back to camp, strengthening the roof with last minute additions before the rain started falling.

And falling.

It was a complete downpour, and it lasted for hours. You and Frankie were huddled next to each other inside the shelter, trying desperately to keep the fire going, but the makeshift cover you’d made for it made no difference. You almost cried when the fire went out, and there was nothing else you could do but suffer through it as the temperature went down drastically. It rained the entire next day and into the night, the temperature had dropped to only 50 degrees and you finally broke, the constant strength Frankie had seen in you shattering to pieces.

“Fr–Frankie I’m still cold, I’m so fucking cold I can’t stop shivering.”

You really can’t, and it’s starting to scare him with how violently you’re shaking as he spoons you from behind as close as he can. Your burlap bags were wrapped around your feet to keep from freezing and you were completely bare against each other, but the increase in warmth was substantial enough for neither of you to give a damn. “Hey. Come here.”

“What?”

“Come here, turn around.” He pauses, hoping he didn’t overstep, but if you were that cold, him holding you this way might help. You do hesitate, but quickly turn in his arms, whimpering as a cold stick pokes into your back.

He settles you against him, your face tucked into his neck and your hands clasped against his chest, both of his arms wrapping around you and pulling you in closer, trying to give you as much of his body heat as he can.

He can only tell you’re crying when he feels the hot wetness against his shoulder, and he cups the back of your head with his large palm. “Oh…no, no please don’t cry. Please don’t cry, shhhhhhh.” He coos into your hair, sliding his hands and arms up and down your body for friction, trying to warm you up, and neither of you give a shit that his hands are all up and down your thighs and ass, your back, and the sides of your breasts.

“Frankie I can’t. I can’t do this.”

He pulls you in harder, as if he could absorb you into his warmth. “No please, you can. I know you can.”

“I can’t!” You sob, and the sound physically hurts him so much he gets up and rolls you onto your back, immediately covering the entirety of your body with his large frame, his forearms braced on the ground and curling around your shoulders. He tucks his face into your neck, nose bumping against the dirty skin, and you whimper when you feel the warm puffs of breath against you.

Every part of you is touching every part of him, but it doesn’t even matter. Nothing matters other than the fact that this man is giving you his entire body to keep you warm, even though his back is completely exposed to the chill of the air. “Frankie, what about you?”

“I’m okay. Just want you to be okay. You can do this okay? I got you, I need you here with me, okay?”

You wrap your arms around his back, opening your thighs just a little so he can nestle slightly between them, taking advantage of that extra warmth. You suddenly feel so exhausted, like you don’t even feel the cold anymore but just need to sleep. Sleep and it will go away. Maybe when you wake up the rain will be over.

He only realizes it when your breathing slows and your hands stop rubbing against his back. He calls your name, but you don’t answer. “Hey! Hey, no, you can’t go to sleep, you gotta stay up.” He wriggles from side to side, trying to jostle you awake and he starts panicking when you don’t. “Hey, come on, baby, please. Gotta stay up. Fuck!”

He hates it but he unloops his arm from under you to give you several slaps on the cheek. Your eyes burst open and immediately seek his.

“Fuck…shit…you scared me…” His head was still in the crook of your neck, but you could hear the fear in his voice. “You can’t go to sleep. You could go into hypothermia and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Okay? Gotta stay up. Stay up with me.” He pulls his head out of your neck and cups your cold cheeks with his hands. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

-Day Fifteen-

The rain stopped early in the morning, and the two of you spent the entire next day catching up on the sleep you couldn’t risk during the night. When you woke, you were nestled into his chest, your nose pressing into his skin.

It was warm out.

You sigh, wondering whether you should try to wriggle out or just wake Frankie up, but you find that you aren't eager to leave his arms. One of his arms is draped against your waist, and the other is the pillow your head rests on.

He had willingly sacrificed his own body heat in order to keep you warm, whispering in your ear all night to keep you awake. He told you about his stupid friends, things he had to do in the military that still haunted him to this day, his favorite movies. Anything to keep you up and engaged. You’d never seen anyone on the show do that before.

You don’t want to leave his arms. You don’t want to keep ignoring how you feel, no matter how crazy it is. You rest your head back against his broad chest, your thumb softly stroking the skin of his hip that your hand rested on.

He hums, subconsciously pulling you by the waist closer into him, your breath catching when you feel the stiff length of his cock pressing into your abdomen. You freeze, not knowing what to do. You’re not sure if you want him to stop or keep going as he chases the feeling, rolling his hips up against you as he hardens further.

He doesn’t know he’s doing it, doesn’t know it’s you and that’s what makes you slap him on the chest lightly and call his name until he wakes up blearily, a stupid lazy smile on his face.

“Hey.”

“Hi, um. Can you?” You point down and he all but throws himself off you, ripping the burlap bag from his feet and covering up his erection from you.

“Oh shit! Fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry, fuck, I didn’t think…it would happen out here.” You continue staring at him, your lips in a little ‘O’ shape as you stare at him from beneath your eyelashes. He grimaces, then hides his face in his hands. “I’m so fucking sorry. It’s a morning thing, it’s not–I don’t—”

“It’s fine.” You murmur quickly, shifting to your knees to exit the shelter. “I know it wasn’t on purpose. Thanks for keeping me so warm last night.”

“...Yea, no problem.”

When you exit the tent he slaps himself in the forehead. He hopes he didn’t ruin it.

----

It doesn’t seem like anything has changed. You’d meant what you said when you told him some things were just biology. But after the two of you work on getting a fire re-started, ultimately relying on cutting pieces of your own hair to spark it up against the wet kindling, you again find yourself in an intimate position.

The mosquitos were horrific today, all the rain agitating them and giving them hope for places to lay their eggs. It was awful, the worst it had been since you came. Frankie suggested you rub ash on each other, telling you sometimes it helped ward off bugs. You laugh to yourself as you turn your back to him, asking him to put it on for you. You can almost hear him swallow, his hands gathering up some ash and rubbing it on your shoulders and back. You don’t stop him as he goes lower, even as he eyes your reaction when he goes and puts it on your thighs, curving his hands back up to quickly smear some over your butt cheeks.

“Just being thorough.” He says when you jokingly glare at him.

The rest of the day is spent looking for more food. You hadn’t eaten anything during the storm and you desperately needed the nutrients. Frankie was looking especially thin, and you sometimes catch him wobbling when he stands up.

You cuddle again that night, just as close together even though it wasn’t as cold, the comfort of being against the other person was something the two of you had clearly gotten used to.

-Day Sixteen-

“Frankie!”

“Yea!”

You can’t believe you actually have the energy to run, but you’re too excited. “Look what I found!” You thrust your arm in the air, holding the yucca root high so he can see it.

“What is that? I can’t see that far!”

You laugh as you come before him, panting harshly. “I found yucca!”

“You did?!”

“YES.”

“We have soap?”

“We have soap!” You cheer, your excitement bubbling over as you hope up and down in the sand. “And carbs! We can also boil some of this. Maybe we can fill up enough for extraction with this.”

The two of you get to work taking turns peeling the yucca with Frankie’s machete. Your muscles were unsteady as it began to feast upon itself in starvation, and you became tired quickly, making you clumsier with the large knife. It helps to switch back and forth every few minutes. Finally, you get it as peeled as you can. Frankie chops some up and puts it in a few bamboo shoots, lying them gently against the hot coals of the fire to boil while you ground up the rest to try to make soap.

After doing the best you could, Frankie pulls you up by your hand and the two of you giddily frolic into the water, splashing your way to a knee deep area. “Here. Turn around. Maybe we can finally get this nice and clean.” You ruffle his filthy, matted hair.

“Are you saying I smell?”

“Yes. Sit down and tilt your head back.”

He laughs and does what you ask, and you use one of your bamboo cups to scoop up some water and wet his hair, kneeling behind him as you start rubbing the ground yucca between your hands vigorously.

“Is it working?”

“I think so. Keep your head straight. Obey.” You lightly smack him on the arm and he chuckles, recalling your worst spat a few days ago. You finally just slop the yucca onto his head and cup water on it, intermittently massaging your fingers into his scalp. It does kind of foam, and you take your time working it in, passing over every curl.

Frankie sighs, a low moan escaping his lips as you card your fingers through his hair trying to get all the tangles out. You feel the burn in your belly at the sound, but you focus on your task until you are satisfied, thoroughly rinsing his hair afterwards.

Since you’re already there, you lather up his neck and ears to his shoulders and down his back, scraping two weeks worth of mud and dirt off of his body, leaving the skin below pink from the friction. He turns and looks at you as you work, his eyes hooded and soft.

“You don’t have to do that.” But he sighs and slightly preens under your attention.

“I know. But I am. And I’m going to ask you to do the same.” You continue working until his back is as clean as you can get, making sure his ears and neck are rinsed completely.

“Okay, your turn. C’mere.”

You splash around him excitedly, moving to sit in front of him but he opens his thighs and pulls you backwards by the waist so you’re settled in between them, but without touching him at all.

It feels like time has stopped while you wait for the first touch, the anticipation building and cresting until you almost beg him to start, and that’s the exact moment you feel the water wetting your hair, his hands threading in towards your scalp as much as it can. His fingers are thick and he presses them into your skin, rubbing and massaging as he works that yucca from root to tip.

You can’t hear how you’re moaning and whimpering because it just feels that good, can’t feel the way your sounds are driving him crazy and he’s struggling not to harden on the water against your back, struggling to not draw the attention of the camera-man.

He feels your hands dart out and grab each of his thighs and he stifles back a grunt, focusing on rinsing your hair and then working your neck, your shoulders and back just like you did for him, spending extra time tending to the knots and kinks he finds in the muscles.

You get lost in it, not realizing your slumping back into him bit by bit until he leans forward and husks in your ear. “Need to rinse. Lean forward.”

“Oh…sorry.” You lean forward again, yanking your hands off his legs. You didn’t even realize you’d put them there.

“It’s okay.” It's silent as he pours the water over your back, the remaining foamy dirt dripping off into the water. It should feel awkward to just be sitting, taking an intimate bath right in front of a production crew, but you’ve grown used to it by now. “All done.” You look back at him and thank him, but you don’t move to leave. He takes the opportunity to lean forward, resting his sharp chin on your shoulder. “Can I…can I hold you?”

There isn’t even a second before you respond. “Yes.”

His arms suddenly surround you, crossing over your arms to rest on your clavicle and the tops of your breasts as he leans you back against him. He had moved to lean against a rock while he washed your hair, and so you felt no guilt at fully melting back into him, scooting your butt back so you’re more comfortable. You can feel him, hard against the small of your back.

You can feel the camera-men focusing on this moment and dread for when they ask about it in your daily one-on-one interview later, but you try to ignore it and feel this moment. Because in 4 days, it will be over, and you will both go home to separate places. You feel him press his soft cheek against your wet hair, inhaling and exhaling steadily at a soothing pace. “Frankie?” You whisper, low enough you hope the cameras won’t pick it up. He catches your cue, responding just as soft, not moving an inch.

“Hm.”

“What…what is this?”

“I don’t know.” He moves to release you but you minutely shake your head, so he re-wraps his arms around you lower than before so they are resting on the tops of your breasts. “Just feels good.”

You nod, your head tilting back to bump against him as you close your eyes and enjoy the late afternoon sun and the pleasant cool of the stream. Eventually your turn, rolling over so you’re resting on your hip, your legs over his thigh and your back and face curled against his chest. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, his arms winding around your waist. One hand slips below the water to rest on your other hip, thumb barely caressing the skin there.

It’s the moment you think of the most.

-Day Seventeen-

“I don’t think this extraction is going to be achievable in only one day.” Frankie observes. His voice sounds weird. Disjointed. Shaky. You look down at the map lying on the ground between you. “Look. We’re gonna have to hike two miles all the way up here to this part of the river, then follow the river seven miles up til it meets the ocean, and a boat will meet us there.”

You point to a little raft icon. “They want us to build a raft then. I don’t think we will be able to carry a raft from here to there.”

“No. We’ll have to build it there. But we can do some of it tomorrow. Make that our day’s goal.”

You turn to poke at the fire, stirring it back to life from its early morning hibernation. It takes a bit for Frankie to get up, yesterday you pulled him up by your hands out of the stream and he’d played it off like it wasn’t a big deal. You remember how much it pissed you off when he questioned your body, so you said nothing. He knows his own body just as you knew yours.

You should have listened to your instincts. A confused “What the fuck?” is all you hear, and as you whip around you see Frankie’s eyes roll back into his head as he faints straight as a board backwards onto the ground, thumping his head, breath expelling from his lungs from the impact.

“Frankie!” You scramble to him, kneeling beside him as you cup his face. His eyes are closed and his chapped lips are slightly parted. He’s still breathing. “Hey…” You stroke his cheeks, your fingers scratching against the three week old beard he’s grown. “Frankie.” You pull his head into your lap, gently smacking his cheek. “Hey. Hey, come on. Come back to me. Please! Go get the medic!” You order the camera-man, and he gets up quickly to head towards the producer tent.

You exhale sharply, wiping your fingers on your thighs before gently pulling on his eyelid to open an eye. It snaps shut again and he groans, finally coming back to himself, his body awkwardly flailing a bit like he forgot how it works. When he opens his eyes again, you’re looking over him, the sun framing you like a halo.

“Hi.”

He smiles weakly. “Hey.”

“Are you okay?”

“I think so. I just stood up and whited out, I dunno. Now I’m laying here.”

“You fell.”

The medics arrive and crowd around Frankie, you don’t want to intrude so you begin to back away, but he grabs your hand and holds it to his chest while they check on him. He starts feeling better within a few minutes, bouncing right back to his stubborn self as he shoos the medics away with assurances he’s fine. You walk with them back out of the camp.

“He has low blood pressure, but is okay. If it gets worse, we need to take him, okay?” You nod, turning to return to Frankie who is now sitting up. You smack him on his bent knee.

“You scared me, you asshole.”

“Sorry.”

You reach your hand out to him and he takes it, his other hand grabbing your other hand as you drag his massive body up. He stands still for a moment, eyes closed as he gains his bearings. “So fucking dizzy.”

“You okay?”

He releases your wrists and pats your arm. “Yea I’m good.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

-Day Eighteen-

He doesn’t look good. His skin is kind of yellowish and his cheeks look gaunt, he has purple bags under his eyes, and he’s blinking often, like his vision isn’t clear. He’s down, not as chatty as he usually is with you, and even though you’ve only spent two and a half weeks in his company, you can see he’s not himself. You’re also sore and fatigued, your feet are cut up and you’re constantly out of breath, but otherwise you feel okay. The almonds and cabbage and fruits you have been foraging for have sustained you pretty well, and you don’t feel like you’ve betrayed your beliefs.

Last night was scary. It was the first time you’d heard him seriously consider quitting. You’d held him close as he curled in on his stomach. “I can’t do it…”

“You can, I know you can. You told me the same thing, you got me through it, you can get you through it.” You don’t want him to quit, you can’t let him quit, not when he’s so close. You need to do it together. But you know he doesn’t have the strength to complete the challenge if you don’t do something.

----

The next morning you try to check his traps but can’t find half of them, and end up turning back and perching yourself on one of the rocks in the stream. You trail your eyes up the tiny current, the little rocks sitting in the narrow passageways between large ones. There’s one that looks a little different, and you lean forward, peering closer at it.

It’s a frog. A big frog.

It’s right there, resting on top of another tiny rock with its eyes closed, completely unaware of your presence. You turn to the camera-man. “I…I don’t know what to do.” You bite your lip, looking back over to where Frankie is still lying on his back in front of the shelter. His sternum is jutting out in a haunting way, the stomach flesh below it concaving in. His hip bones are sticking out.

You’ve never killed an animal in your entire life.

You grab the frog.

----

“Frankie!”

He hears you, but barely has the energy to get up, so he tilts his head in your direction. “Yea?” You stride up to him, reaching into your bag for the frog. He perks up, the excitement giving him the boost to sit up fully. “What’d you get?”

You pull out the frog and he uses everything in him to push himself up out of the sand. You press the animal into his palms. “Here. I brought this back for you.” He jerks his eyes up to meet yours, they dart back and forth between them like he thinks you might be joking. His mouth parts and he blinks rapidly, looking back down at the animal before he starts to tear up. “This…is a lot of protein for me.”

“Yea.”

“Thank you so much, this is…this is so amazing! I really appreciate this.”

You nod once, turning and walking away towards the pool. Frankie pads over to the fire and eases himself down, grabbing a piece of bamboo to lay the frog on to process. He pauses, looking up to see where you went, his chest pinching when he sees you resting in the water, your head buried in your arms on a rock.

“I can’t believe she did that.” He says to the camera-man. “She picked that up and knew she was the difference between death and life and she chose to give it to me. I know that was hard for her.” He looks up again, watching you sit with your decision in the stream. This was…he couldn’t even say it. “I’m…feeling really emotional right now. I’m never gonna forget this.”

When the animal is cooked he eats every single piece, not willing to waste any of that protein. It was the best tasting thing he’d ever eaten in his life, and it tasted that much better because you got it for him. You. The woman that was thrown into his life and challenged everything he thought he knew. The woman that was changing him for the better. The woman he didn’t want to let go.

-Day Nineteen-

The two of you get up early and set to work, breaking down your shelter to re-use the materials. You make new water canteens with long handles, creating paddles for the raft with a large branch crossed at the end with four short bamboo shafts. You bind together strong cordage and lashings to build the raft, and more for securing it to the shore when you inevitably have to make landfall when it gets dark tomorrow night.

You spent the night beneath the stars, Frankie’s arm your pillow as you looked at the clearest sky you’d ever seen. The weather was perfect and mild, the buzz of the mosquitos was low and the monkeys were at rest like they knew it was your last night in this location.

You turn your head to look at Frankie, but he’s already looking at you. You hold eye contact with him even though it hurts, it physically hurts looking at him because you know it’s all ending and you can’t believe how much you’ve grown to care for this person in such a short amount of time.

“Frankie…”

“No.” He turns toward you, dragging you in by your waist and the arm you’re resting on, your face falling into the little nook between his neck and shoulder, and you just know what he means. No, I don’t want to talk about it right now. No, we need to focus on tomorrow’s journey. No, I actually can’t deal with this, because the thought of leaving you makes me just want to stay here. No, it’s not just you.

You hold him back in return, your hand splaying against his broad back, grown bonier from lack of food. You try not to sleep, to take in every moment so you can remember it, but your body decides for you and eventually, you pass out in his arms.

-Day Twenty-

The next day you get up early again, putting out your fire and gathering up your items and raft materials. It’s hot and humid and you’re not excited for this trek. You sling on your cordage and bamboo water jugs, picking up the walking sticks you’d made and head into the jungle. Frankie is ahead of you, and you’re glad for it so you can keep an eye on him. You know if he feels weak, he won’t say anything about it.

Frankie’s feet HURT. It’s almost unbearable and he winces every time he steps, the pressure of his own body on his ankles too much. He stumbles constantly, but every time you ask him if he wants to stop he refutes it. “I just wanna get there. I can rest once I’m there.”

You finally reach the area you need to be to construct the raft, and use the little energy you have to chop down the bamboo to construct it with the remaining hours you have left. You have to pause and catch your breath after almost every chop. How the fuck are you going to paddle eight miles after this?

You cut about 25 long shoots, and 12 more shorter ones for benches, kneeling down and tying them all together as tight as possible in as little time as you can. When you’re satisfied, you drag it into the water and settle yourselves on it, you in the front, Frankie controlling the back.

The going is slow and you also have to keep an eye out for caiman, your arms are burning but you need to get as far as you can. You don’t even stop when it thunders over you, rain drops pouring down as you methodically paddle onwards.

When you can’t even see nor paddle any longer, Frankie uses his larger paddle to steer you towards shore. You have no idea if you’ve chosen a good spot but you can’t see enough to find anything better, so you heave the raft up the bank as much as you can and lash it to the nearest tree before finally collapsing into the sand beneath you. You pass out in Frankie’s arms immediately as he takes first watch, occasionally throwing rocks at you don’t even want to know in the water. He wakes you up several hours later so you can switch.

-Day Twenty-One-

You had a hard time getting up. You’d told him limbs felt like lead and you were so sore you wanted to cry, but you both knew you had to get up. You were almost there. With Frankie’s support you get up at first light and hop back onto the raft, both thankful that at least you only had two or three more miles to go. It’s incredibly quiet, the desire to just be done with this the only thing pushing you forward as you zone out and just paddle. And paddle. And paddle more.

Frankie calls your name and you twist your neck to look at him. He points at the sky. “Look.” You look forward and up at the most beautiful sunrise cresting over the horizon. You hadn’t even noticed it. Pink fading into yellow and a warm glow atop the water, Frankie focuses on it and continues on, passing small mountains and more jungle on your way to the Caribbean Sea.

Finally you turn a corner and there it is, the river widening out and opening into the open ocean. A surge of energy from nowhere speeds him up, paddling as fast as he can until his arms are screaming in pain with the effort. When you get close enough to the bank, he hops out and pushes you onto shore. You hop off into the sand and help pull the raft onto it before turning around to the cresting waves.

“Look!” You cry out, pointing towards the tiniest boat beyond the waves. But it didn’t come closer, and your stomach drops when you realize you have to get through them to get there.

Frankie looks at you and takes your hand before saying “lets do this”, and the two of you run with as much speed as you can and dive into the waves. The waves are rough and he realizes why the boat couldn’t come closer as they batter into you, he swears he doesn’t have enough energy left but he fights, scrambling to stay above the surf.

He constantly makes sure you are beside him, your face pulled into a grimace as you struggle not to be pulled under, but the current is so strong it’s pulling both of you too far to the left and away from the boat. You can hear the boat trying to reach you but the chopping waves are determined to remain a barrier between you.

“Stay with each other!” They continue to yell at you as you dive under one more wave before finally getting beyond the surf, and Frankie bolts towards it, his body screaming at him. He reaches the boat first, arms shooting out as he grabs the edge and heaves himself over with a growl, tumbling onto his back as he tries to catch his breath.

You aren’t right behind him. He sits up abruptly and looks for you, his eyes darting all over the choppy surface of the water. He can’t see your head and he panics but then you pop up, a final errant wave must have caught you and pushed you back into the surf. You get past it once more and stall, your body simply refusing to function anymore. Your leg cramps and you feel yourself dipping under, and you tip your head back to stay above water. You got beyond the waves but you barely have the energy to swim the rest of the way.

She can’t make it. Frankie realizes you’ve finally hit the wall as he had days ago, and he doesn’t question his choice for a second. He jumps in the water to go get you, despite his own exhaustion, despite the fact that he might not be able to make it back either. You’re trying to make your way but it’s slow, and he knows there’s a chance you might just shut down or get swept away. You could die.

You try to call for him when you see him, and the panic in your voice taps into every ounce of energy he has left, reaching for that frog protein you gave him as he reaches you and grabs your wrist, his breaths heaving as he swims back with you to the side of the boat, the choppiness of the water throwing you against the metal with a bang.

You hang on to the edge as Frankie heaves himself up first, almost face planting into the bottom before turning around immediately to help the boatmen get you up. The side of the boat is higher than you have the energy to get over and you look absolutely exhausted. He grabs you by the upper arm and pulls you up, your other hand pushing against the rim to lift yourself up as far as you can. He wraps his arms around your hips and pulls, getting you the rest of the way over. You land backwards onto a bench and into his arms, crying as you feel him touching you all over to make sure you were okay. Just him, and safety, and him, rubbing your thigh, gripping your arm, pulling you into his warmth by the waist, pushing the wet hair from your face, a hand cupping your cold wet cheek and brushing tears and water and sand off them.

He lets out a sob of relief, the salt helping him tear up as he cries into your hair, eventually sitting upright so the boat could start moving. “We’re in. We did it.”

You burst into laughter amongst your tears and you turn to him with the most beautiful and dirty smile he’s ever seen as you reach for him, hugging him to you as the boat heads off into the horizon.

----

When you land, you’re greeted with a gigantic table of goodies and water, and you and Frankie whoop as you race towards it, grabbing pizza, bread, baked goods, and even some vegan sweets for you. You sit around the table with the producers, medics, and camera-men, laughing and talking into the late afternoon.

After that it was check ups and weigh ins before you were finally each released to your own hotel room. You hop immediately into the shower, and stay in there for at least an hour scrubbing your body and scalp raw.

-Day Twenty-Two-

Both of you are on a three day medical hold to make sure you’re okay to go home with no bacteria or diseases. You sleep the entire next day, get in touch with whoever you need to, ordering room service straight to you so you can just lay down and not move.

You think about Frankie and where you stand, if it would be weird to go to him, if he would even want that. It was entirely possible it could just be done now, the comfort found in another person from necessity. Ultimately, you were strangers. And you would go your separate ways.

----

Once he woke up, he thought about you all day. He didn’t know what to do, what to expect now, but it was telling that you weren’t contacting him at all. For a little while he had really convinced himself that this actually was something, but now completely out of the situation, the idea was ridiculous. He was old enough to be your fucking father, he’s stubborn and annoying and you were completely different. He isn’t what you would choose.

He couldn’t sleep that second night, tossing and turning with thoughts of you screaming in his head. The way you held him when you slept when it wasn’t even cold out. Sometimes he felt your fingers gently stroking his skin. How you took care of him when he fell. When you gave him the frog. The sound of you crying out to him in the ocean and the way you clung to him when he got you up onto the boat. He thought about you coming out of that river like the fucking Birth of Venus, how it felt when he had you beneath his fingertips, his cock nudging against your ass. That one time you tried to teach him basic yoga and he collapsed into the sand, your laugh filling the air. How you always wanted to hold his hand when you slept.

No. There’s no fucking way. There’s no way this was platonic. There’s no way this was simply convenience.

He tosses the blankets off himself, throwing a hotel robe over his tee and boxers and all but rips the door open as he marches down the hallway to your door. He reaches up to knock but stalls, backpedaling on his thoughts and he is about to turn around and walk away when the door yanks open and you almost collide straight into him.

You stare at each other, his hand still raised in a fist for the door that’s no longer in the way.

It only takes three seconds.

Your lips crash together and your upper limbs flail around as they find a part of each other to grasp. His hands land on your cheek and you suddenly realize his hand is the size of your entire face and how did that escape your notice ?!?!?! but then the other hand lands on your waist and he pushes you against the wall. He pulls away just enough to look in your eyes, his hooked nose bumping against yours.

You meet his lips again, softly, a small whimper sounding in the back of your throat and it drives him absolutely insane. He picks up speed, his lips nipping at yours as he kisses you again and again until you’re panting in between them, and he takes that opportunity to tilt his head and thrust his tongue into your mouth, moaning when it meets yours.

Your arm shoots out blindly to your left, struggling to find the door and when you find it you slap it closed with a bang, throwing your arms back around his neck as you explore his mouth in return. You bite his bottom lip and he groans, bending to pick you up under the thighs and carry you to the bed. You don’t stop kissing him on the way, and when you’ve reached the bed you uncross your legs from behind his back and let him toss you onto it.

You’re leaning back on your elbows looking up at him, your legs hanging off the bed and the tie of your own robe curled on the comforter. He picks it up and pulls it open, his hands moving under the lapels to part them, allowing you to shrug out of it. A little white tank top and some boxer shorts had never looked so good. He stands there staring at you, taking you in. Clean, soft, but covered in all the places he was used to seeing all the time.

You swallow. “Ummm, I forgot to bring clothes for after…production bought me some undershirts and boxers…”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.” He rasps, his eyes trailing from your beautiful eyes to your lips, your heaving chest and the hint of your tits he can see through the fabric.

“Me too.”

He doesn’t know where to look, so overwhelmed from having you around him 24/7 but not actually being able to have you. You sit up, untying his own robe as he watches. You look up at him, sliding your fingers underneath the hem of his tee to touch the skin on his tummy, eventually pushing the shirt up enough to lean forwards and plant little kisses and licks there. He shivers, a small moan escaping his lips as you move back down, stroking his thighs and bony hips until you’re gripping the waistband tentatively. You look up at him again, you look so pretty from this angle and he desperately wants to see what you’d look like with his cock in your mouth.

“Please touch me. Don’t make me beg, baby.”

You smile, pressing another kiss on his happy trail as you reach to cup him, his cock twitching and hardening further under your palm. His mouth drops open as he watches you, your tiny hands palming him, thumb circling the tip of his cock until he can feel the pre-cum seeping into the cotton. You lick your lips, your face hovering right where he wants it and he whines above you. “What do you want?”

“Don’t care. Just want you. I’m yours if you want me, do whatever you want.”

You peel off his boxers, his massive cock bouncing out and the only thing that’s on your mind is how much you want to kiss it. You take him in your hand, so thick your hand almost doesn’t make it around as you lean forward and lap the pre-cum dripping from his fat cock head.

The noises he makes are sinful and you can feel wetness gathering between your thighs from them alone. You open your mouth and take him, he’s so big you can only get a third of it in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his shaft as his hands shoot to the back of your head. Not pushing, simply resting there as you work him. You pop off him and catch your breath, looking up at his beautiful face pinched in pleasure. “You’re so fucking big.”

“Oh fuck…” He sighs, and you wrap your lips around him again, corkscrewing your hand on the parts you can’t reach. He flinches, his hips jerking forward as he accidentally thrusts into your throat but you grab him by the ass to keep him there, allowing him to gently fuck your throat.

When he pulls out, cum and saliva is dripping from your lips and he curses, throwing off the robe and ripping his tee off. “Lay back on the bed.” You do eagerly and he chases you, hovering over you as you pull your tank top up and over your head, throwing it on the ground. He immediately drops to your breasts, squeezing and stroking them, pinching and kissing and nibbling your nipples until you’re squirming under him.

“Frankie…please fuck me.”

He sits up on his knees and pulls off your boxers and underwear, all but drooling over your pubic mound before taking you by the thighs and throwing them over his shoulders. You don’t know what you were expecting but it wasn’t him diving right in, his fingers spreading you wide and the flat of his tongue lathing against your folds, collecting your wetness with a hum. He takes his time, paying attention to every square inch of you before sliding up and suckling at your clit, his fingers gently circling your entrance before one gently pushes in.

You keen, your back arching in a U over the bed as he works you open, sucking at you and thrusting into you with increasing speed. When more slick comes rushing out to meet his hand, he pushes in a second finger, then a third, pumping them and curling them inside of you as you cry above him.

“Frankie.” You gasp, a hand reaching out and gripping his hair, pulling on it to get him back up to you. “Please fuck me. I want you so bad.”

He lifts his head to meet your eyes, his nose and chin covered in your pre-cum. “I want to baby, but I gotta get you ready for me. You’re so fucking tight. So fucking sweet.” He bends back down, pushing a fourth finger in and the stretch burns with pain and pleasure at the same time. He finger fucks you, your cries egging him on as they pitch higher, and it’s like he knows you so well that he knows just when to take your clit back into his mouth and suck hard.

You scream his name, your thighs involuntarily squeezing his head but he loves it, moaning as he takes everything you give him until you’re whimpering and trembling beneath him. When you catch your breath he’s on his knees over you, his cock flushed and pink and pointing towards the ceiling. You reach for him and he crawls to you, as he gets closer you see he has a few little grays in his pubic hair and for some reason it drives you crazy. You yank him to you, opening your thighs and he settles between your legs, kissing you tenderly while he notches himself at your entrance.

“Fuck baby, I can’t wait. I can’t.” He pushes in and you cry out, he’s so fucking big and your lips spread wide to accommodate him as he pushes forward slowly, determined to be fully inside you.

He’s only halfway in when you halt him, your hands gripping his biceps. “I can’t…”

“You can. I know you can. You will.” He reaches down to gently thumb at your clit, and when you release more fluid he pushes the rest of the way in, moaning as he becomes fully seated.

“Oh my god, oh fuck!” It feels like he’s splitting you to the brink, you’re just so full of him. You didn’t know you could scream so loud when he pulls back and pushes back in, but you don’t want him to stop. He’s so gentle with you, murmuring praise in your ear and stroking your face and your shoulders as you struggle to accommodate him, you can feel how much he’s holding back and how much he wants you. His hip bones stick out too far and jut into yours, and his back feels bony under your hands as you encourage him to speed up.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“It’s good…please fuck, I’m good, just fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ you’re so fucking sexy.” He groans as he lurches forward, his hips rolling against yours as he fucks into you. “So fucking sexy when you yell at me and tell me I’m being stupid…”

You can’t even speak, he can tell he’s incapacitating you completely and all you can do is take him, the lack of energy you still have allowing him to take control and push you open, leaning back and pulling your hips up to meet him as he starts thrusting deeper into you. He pushes your thighs up and pulls all the way out, his cock red and shining with your cum, then stuffs himself all the way back in. You wail out every time his hips meet with yours.

“Oh yea, scream for me baby. Wanted to do this when you were rubbing your pretty little ass against me in your sleep, fuck you right in the dirt for the whole jungle to hear, but this hotel will have to do.”

He punctuates that with a rough press of his hips, watching your eyebrows tilt and your mouth hang open in silent moans as he keeps pulling his huge dick all the way out and slamming it all the way back in. “So fucking frustrating.” He growls. “Don’t fucking listen, fight with me on everything, now look at you. Not talkin’ now.”

The room is filled with the slapping of skin, the squelching of your wet cunt taking him, your sobs and cries, his erotic grunts and moans. “Fuck you so good you can’t talk, yea? Tell me.”

“Yes! Fuck!”

“I like you talkin’ though. Like you defying me, like you yelling at me, bein’ a little brat. Fucking love it. Oh...shit. Knew you’d look so pretty stretched around my cock. I can barely fit in you. But you’re gonna take me.”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh shit…oh fuck..oh shit…fuck…I like you so much, I like you so fucking much.” He presses his forehead to yours, you can feel his sweat against your skin. That familiar scent of him, the musk and tang oh his sweat making you want him closer, need him closer.

“Frankie…I like you so much.”

He kisses you sloppily, sighing as he pulls away and sucks on your ear. “I’m.--I’m old enough to be your father–”

“I don’t care!” You gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him deeper, clenching your walls around him. “I like it, I like it so fucking much. You’re so fucking stubborn and—oh, Frankie I’m gonna cum.”

“Come on sweetheart, give it to me.” He presses his thumb to your clit, swiping side to side to reach the entire bud as you tense below him, your coil building with each thrust of his massive cock deep in you and his calloused finger pad rubbing your clit, the scrape of his graying beard against your cheek. “Yea, yea, yea, give it to me. Want your little pussy to cum all over my cock.”

It’s so much, the overstimulation of sounds and words and touch and smell overwhelms you until you’re spasming under him, cumming with a high pitched wail as he speeds up, cooing in your ear. You cum so much the sound of him entering you sounds like splashing into the stream water. He puts a hand over your mouth. “Listen. Want you to listen to how wet you are for me. Listen while I cum.”

He pulls back and looks at you, your face completely wrecked and fucked out, your tits bouncing under him, the slap of his balls on your ass and snarls as he pulls out, stroking his cock briskly until he cums a giant load on your stomach and tits.

“Holy shit.” He’s panting hard and he falls forward a bit, landing on a hand before rolling to the side of you and flopping on his back. He’s clean and fed, but his energy level still clearly needs time to recover. He looks at you, you’re lying against the pillow with your eyes closed and a smile on your face and he remembers his manners.

“Be right back.”

“Okay…”

He heaves himself up, taking a moment to gain his bearings before moving to the bathroom and coming back with a wet cloth, gently wiping his cum from your body before tossing it on the floor and sliding back into bed. He opens his arms hoping, and you meet him, nestling himself against his side, your fingers trailing his happy trail.

“This is nice.” He murmurs.

You hum, then look up at him with worry in your eyes. “Can…will you stay with me? Tonight?”

He looks deep into your eyes and senses fear in them, they’re a little watery and slightly panicked looking. It makes him feel afraid too, but he doesn’t know why. “Of course I will sweetheart. I’ll stay until you kick me out.”

“Okay.” You bury yourself into the warmth of his chest and he turns towards you, holding you just as he did in the wild. He preferred it this way though.

-Day Twenty-Three-

Waking up in the morning safe and warm and tangled in your body was even better. It was late morning and your ass was pressed against his dick again, making him harden almost immediately.

“Doing it to me again, are you?” He rasps, and you quietly giggle and wriggle your more against him. His hand moves from your stomach to your breast, cupping it and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll fuck you right here if you don’t stop. Just like this.”

You don’t, and he bites at your shoulder before grabbing your ass and scooting your backside up more, allowing him to press his cock against your slit. You whine softly, tilting your hips forward and back so the thick length of him slides back and forth between your wet lips. “Sweetheart, need to get you ready.” He groans again as he passes back over your hole, dipping in a little with the tip of his cock. “Gotta help you take me.”

You whine again, speeding up your movements. “No…just wannit.”

He bites his lip. “MMmmmmm yea? You want this cock? Want it to fill you up?

“Yessssss.”

He chuckles darkly, grabbing himself and slapping his cock against your pussy a few times before lifting one of your ass cheeks and pushing in, allowing him to see more from the angle. It’s a struggle because he didn’t work you, and he has to get a little rough to stuff himself in you as you squirm and babble nonsense against him.

It feels like he goes on forever, and he releases a guttural grown once he’s flush with your ass. You’re panting from the stretch and he is obsessed with the sounds of your body trying to accommodate him, wants to give you what you asked for so he starts moving, his hips slapping against your ass as he pounds into you, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall.

“Oh my…oh fuck…oh shit oh shit fuck you’re so fucking big I—” You scream on one particular hard thrust, reaching back to grab the massive hand yanking you back and forth onto his cock, trying to stabilize yourself.

“Yea, you like that? SO fucking sexy, god you’re so fucking young.” He moans, slowing down so he doesn��t cum too fast. His hand leaves your hip and you arch your back to impale yourself as he takes you by the chin, bending you enough so he can whisper in your ear. “Would you have fucked me if you were home, pretty young thing?”

“Not–not if you opened your mouth.”

“Oh god I love your bratty fucking mouth.” Frankie grunts, and he teases your lips with his fingers. You open for him immediately, and he thrusts two fingers into your mouth to suck on. You nibble on them, licking and sucking as he whines, picking up his pace again as he all but splits you open.

“Want you to touch yourself. Want to feel you cum again, squeeze me so tight. Touch your little clit and come with me stuffed in you.”

You don’t need him to demand twice, you can feel his hand on your jaw gripping a little too tight as his body tenses behind you, you know he’s about to cum and you want to make him, make him cum again so maybe you can remember what it feels like when you’re back home and all of this is over. You rub yourself frantically, moans pitching higher as he starts stuttering.

“M’gonna cum baby, I’m sorry, gotta fuckin’ cum.” He withdraws and you almost scream at him in frustration, but before he can ejaculate you push on his chest and grab the base of his big cock, squeezing in the hope you can edge him. You’re not ready for it to end. He throws his head back and curses. “God, fuck! Always gotta have it your way.”

“Yes.” And you swing your leg over him, reaching back to line him up and sinking all the way onto his cock, immediately setting a rolling pace, grinding your aching clit against his thick mass of pubic hair. He’s finally quiet, his mouth gaping open and his forehead all scrunched, the cords of his neck covered in that salt and pepper beard bulging as he tries to hold out, but you don’t need long. You buck your hips five or six more times before you break, squeezing him to hell as you gush around him.

“Baby you gotta get off, gotta get off I’m gonna cum.”

“No. I want you inside me.” You push yourself down on him, clinging to his chest like a spider monkey and he curses once more, wrapping his arms around your back and thrusting up a few more times until he comes with a shout, the hot ropes of cum filling you up and making the end of your climax warm and tingling.

When he catches his breath, he tilts your chin up with one finger. “Sweetie, what did—”

“I just wanted you to stay with me.” You slide off him, sitting on the backs of your calves, squeezing your thighs in the hope he won’t drip out of you.

He sits up, his brow furrowed in confusion. “I am staying with you, what do you mean?”

“We’re leaving tomorrow. For home.”

“I know...”

“So, what do you think is going to happen?”

He looks down, panic rising in his chest as he realizes what you’re about to say. “No. We can do this, I–I can come visit you and you can come see me and—”

“I don’t want a long-distance relationship Frankie. It never works.”

“Move in with me, just come live with me then.”

“Frankie, I have a job and a life too. Why don’t you move to me?”

He realizes then it’s a stalemate and you’re right. There’s simply no way this could work. You’re too far away, not just where you live but in your lives, in your goals, your beliefs, even down to what you eat. You’re completely different.

“Fuck.”

You nod slightly, following an imaginary pattern on the sheet with your finger. “Yea.”

“Can you at least be with me until you have to leave?”

“Yea. I’d really like that.”

-Six Months Later-

t’s a full house at Frankie’s as his friends and family come for the premiere of his episode. He’s nervous, not sure what it would feel like to see you again, even from the TV.

You’d stayed in touch for a bit, but eventually it became too hard on you and you stopped reaching out. He stepped back, even though it fucking hurt more than anything in the challenge to let you go. But you were right, again. The distance was too much, it never would have worked, so he resigned himself to watching you from afar. Watching you succeed, maybe fall in love with someone else. Get married. And he’d be alone. He didn’t want anyone else. Unrequited love isn’t as romantic as you think it would be.

He gets through the episode well considering. His friends pepper him with questions on how “close” you were, his mom smiling at him knowingly, but he jokes it off and insists, “She’s just a friend. Nah, she’s just my close friend.” Even when you snuggled together. When you talked in the night under the diary cams. When he covered you with his body when you were hypothermic. When you washed each other and snuggled afterwards.

He could blow them off. Until the end of the episode, when he finally got to see the closing interviews.

(Frankie): I would never have made it through this without her. She's just as strong as me. Stronger, actually. She taught me to respect every life, think about every choice I make, to think about the man I want to be. The man I wanna be for her.

Everyone turned and looked at him and he sighed, looking back up when it was your turn. You looked so fucking beautiful, even caked in mud and dirt. It’s how you looked when he fell for you.

(You): The person I first met is not who is beside me now. I definitely did not have a good first impression of Frankie when we started. But…I was able to trust him, and it makes me so happy that I was able to teach this stubborn man some things. *you laugh* He’s become really important to me…and… *you choke up, tears sliding down your face* ummm…I don’t want him to leave. I don’t wanna leave him.

(Producer): Do you love him?

(You): Yea, I do.

The room is so quiet the final assessments seem blaringly loud, his mind scrambling as he processes what you just said on the air. For thousands of people to see.

(Narrator): Frankie lost a total of 30 pounds. Despite his stubborn attitude and the difficulty securing protein, putting his trust in his partner and his perseverance to push through the pain got him and his partner to the end. His Primitive Survival Rating raises from 7.1 to 7.6.

(You) lost 15 pounds. Despite a vegetarian diet, you excelled, gaining numerous skills and proving you are able to make the tough decisions needed to get your partner through the challenge. Your PSR raises from 6.5 to 7.6.

He loved you. And you loved him.

But you still left.

#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfic #pedro pascal #triple frontier #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #my writing #pedrostories

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phantom-of-the-keurig · 3 years

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Since y’all children don’t know how to fucking behave I guess I’m getting involved now 💀

This list thing is ridiculous. Whoever made it (and whoever helped) has wayyyyy too much fucking time on their hands and I honest to god hope you find a hobby, job, or relationship- just something productive to occupy your time because this isn’t something people who are healthy do. I am begging you to take a step back from tumblr because I truly think it would do you some good.

I get it, you don’t like certain ships. Me either, trust me! I see Obikin or QuiObi and I literally experience a full body cringe. Maulsoka? Gross! Clonecest? Weird, uncomfortable! But I either ignore it, or I block and move on. I have been on the internet for a long, long time and if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s you will never be able to stop people from getting off to weird shit. There are neckbeards jerking off to my little pony right now as we speak, and guess what? Ain’t nothing you or I do ever gonna stop them. It’s not healthy to hyper focus on these people who ship things, because believe me they do not give a single fuck and are going to continue getting off to it 💀 stop masquerading as the Catholic Church and move on. Learn to block, be an adult and use your brain cells. But I have a feeling most of you are either children or extremely sheltered adults who have yet to experience anything outside of your home. Yikes, so sad 😞 get some bills to pay and responsibilities to handle besties then see if someone shipping some weird shit is still really the end of the world. Spoil alert, it’s not.

If there is something truly illegal happening, like at the level the FBI needs to be informed of the content being produced then of course report that shit, but believe me the fucking FBI doesn’t give a fuck someone wants to see Waxer and Boil touch butts. Like I promise they don’t. Grow the fuck up, the internet is full of gross weird shit.

This list also includes people who have been deemed racist. A very, very serious accusation. I’m mixed and my first name is very very very clearly not white. In fact it’s a whole ass Spanish word. I’ve dealt with some awful fucking racism before my dudes. In fact, there was a god damn Nazi rally the next town over. When I was 18 I literally couldn’t get a job because my name weirded white people out so much so I had to go by my middle name, and once I did I was able to get a job.

What I’m saying is, I understand how serious, real, and hurtful racism is. But I’ve also seen y’alls criteria for racism and it’s a fucking joke. Stop taking an issue that is serious and has real life consequences and applying it to literally everyone you dislike. When you deem everyone or everything racist, you’re taking away how serious it is and therefore trivializing real, serious issues. Not to pull a boomer moment here but y’all know the story of the boy who cried wolf right? That’s y’all. You’re the boy and it’s so embarrassing yikes 😭

I have some very close friends that have made that god forsaken list and I can assure you, they are far from racist. Or ableist. Or transphobic. Like people made that list for defending Ao3, that’s what shows me y’alls bar was set so fucking low an infant could waddle over it and be deemed problematic.

Let me give you an example, a friend who shall not be named to protect their privacy has dealt with real life PTSD and has actual experience in the military. They also work with disabled vets in real life. This reflects in their writing, and it’s some of the most well done and realistic stuff I’ve ever read around here. They were deemed ableist. And racist. Make it make sense. They took something they have actual experience in (serving in the military, the trauma that comes with it, trying to find ones footing after serving) and y’all children who don’t know anything outside your front door deemed them ableist and racist. Oh, bonus points, this person is also mixed!! So like?? 😩 y’all I can’t even the lack of brain cells it takes to do this is just astounding I’m convinced y’all are huffing spray paint.

As with any fandom, there are always going to be members who are actually dangerous, who spread legit hurtful or problematic content. Those people should be called out and avoided. But sis when your list has over a hundred people 😳 and there are people on there for the most trivial of shit how is anyone supposed to take that seriously??

Anyway, long story short y’all are so embarrassing and I hope you find something to occupy your time or your parents shut off the WiFi because it would do you some good. Learn to ignore things, or block. Report things that are actually legit illegal or serious. Go drink some water. And maybe take a nap.

#y’all I can’t #so embarrassing yikes!#this whole thing is one big fat Yikes #sw salt #oh the dreaded list #I’m sad I didn’t make the list 😞#clone wars #the bad batch #list gate 2021

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

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Kickstart My Heart Pt.1 (Racer! Yeosang)

Next>>

Pairing: Racer! Kang Yeosang × Waitress/Fuckgirl! Reader (Female)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, 80s AU.

Summary: During an era known for its vibrant colors, eccentric fashion styles and rise of new yet unconventional genres of music, the young generation of that time was infamously known for their need to rebel and live their lives rather scandalously and Y/N is no exception. So when a new and attractive man moves into her town, she has her eyes set on making him her next boy toy.

Word Count: 4K+

Warnings: Dumb attempts at crackhead humor, reader is a cold hearted bitch, guy gets dumped in public, reader's friend is lowkey creepy.

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Throwing on the last article of clothing that had been discarded the night before, the young woman shook out her hair, still damp from the quick shower she just took. Picking up her bag, she looked over at the figure still sleeping soundly, the subtle hint of a smile on his face. With a pitied pout on her lips, she walked over to the edge where his face was. Taking out the lipstick tube from her bag, she applied it all over her lips, painting them in the dark burgundy color that she fancied so much and had practically become her signature hue. Bending over, she pressed her lips against the corners of his mouth, giving him the faintest whisper of a kiss before pulling away. A satisfied smirk was plastered on her pretty features as she stared at the lipstick mark on his face, the only memoir she'd leave him with as she had done with countless others.

Closing the front door behind her, she pulled her denim jacket tighter on her body, shivering slightly from the early dawn's breeze that blew across. It was always like that even though summer had just begun, the early morning hours still feeling obnoxiously cool and then transpiring into slightly uncomfortably warm afternoons that had more than one soul in that quaint town grumbling and fussing about the weather. But oh did the evenings feel absolutely refreshing, and that's when everything would start bustling to life.

Having finally made it out of that small residential area and finding one of the main roads that helped her locate where to go, she started heading south towards the all too familiar diner where she had been working in ever since her school days, first starting part time and eventually transpiring to full time when it came time for her to spread her wings and fly out on her own, a feat she had been most anxious to do to get away from the overly controlling nature of her parents. She knew they cared about her, but she herself cared very little about the morals and principles they had raised her with, a common trait all the young people in that town shared: their rebellious and headstrong nature to not conform and go against everything they had been taught thus far. Live their own lives as freely as they chose to do.

And she definitely lived as she wanted to, even if it ended up with a rather bad reputation and ugly labels that rather than infuriate her, she openly embraced, as others had come to as well.

The light twinkle of the bells above the glass door let the person at the register know someone came in and they immediately plastered on their business smile, which quickly faded when they saw who it was.

"You're late Y/N." The minuscule raven haired waitress informed her, eyes never leaving her coworker's figure that came behind the counter and started punching in her number.

"Only by like 7 minutes." She waved her slip at the nonchalant looking girl before placing it back in its respective slot.

"One day it wouldn't surprise me if you just didn't show up because you got too caught up in.... something else."

Chuckling softly, Y/N walked up behind her coworker, hands coming up to ruffle the cheekbone level bob cut hair framing her unusually small face.

"Awww come on Lynn, you know I'd never leave you hanging here to attend customers by yourself. You're my bestie." Y/N assured her, playfully poking her lips out as she tried to place a kiss on her friend, the poor girl craning her neck away as she tended to dislike physical affection.

"I will squirt ketchup on you." Lynn threatened as she picked up the cherry red bottle as a last resort to get her attacker to back away. A rather noisy struggle ensued between both girls, catching the attention of the owner and cook behind the two doors, prompting her to come out and see what was the cause of such ruckus.

"Well I'll be darned. I don't remember paying you youngsters to simply slack off and behave like the hooligans you are." The middle aged woman spoke up, her thick accent becoming more prominent. Although she had a stern look and hands placed at her hips, the girls knew she was not in reality angry at them.

Looking over at the recently arrived girl, the owner closed her eyes and sighed deeply when she took in the attire she was wearing: low cut white tank, ripped denim shorts that left little to the imagination if she bent down, fishnet tights with a few holes in them, and her beloved denim jacket that was almost always on Y/N's body.

"I swear to god, Y/N , everytime I see you wear them rags you call clothes, I feel like my body is about to collapse. Why must you insist on dressing like a common street worker?"

Y/N wasn't at all offended by her words, having grown used to and becoming fond of her boss's abrupt, direct and honest manner of speaking.

"Gotta start looking the part if I'm going to dedicate my life to the occupation." She giggled at her own joke, resulting in the older woman taking the rag off her apron and smacking her with it.

"This little runt, talking nonsense like that- get your ass back in there and change into your uniform. Can't have you prancing around here in those skimpy clothes and have all these men that come here say disrespectful things about you. Nuh uh, not to my girls." She shook her head.

"Yes Miss Audrey." Complying with the woman's wishes, she pushed open the swing doors leading to the back and quickly made her way to the corner where all the employee's cubicles were located. Grabbing the necessary items, she turned and went inside the bathroom to change into her uniform, consisting of a knee length crimson red dress, which she had actually altered so it would be shorter and display her thighs more, the cap sleeves slightly puffed up and the torso part had a trail of white buttons going all the way up to the modest v-neckline, usually most buttons were left undone so her cleavage would shamelessly peak out. Exchanging her black Doc Martens in favor of her white Nike sneakers, Y/N tied her apron around her waist, making sure it was as tight as possible so it would accentuate her curves and give her body a more flattering appearance. As she made her way out, she quickly piled her hair up before securing it with one of the many elastics she kept around her wrists, leaving out a few tendrils to fall on her temples.

Coming back out to start her daily work, she stood in front of Lynn, who merely spared her an unamused glance.

"How do I look?" Y/N asked.

"Like a total slut." Her friend answered in her usually rude way.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N grabbed a spray bottle and a rag. Making her way over to the table that had just finished being used, she quickly picked up the plates and glass, bringing them back over to where Lynn was, who took them so she could wash them in the sink. Spraying the top of the marble piece, she had began her task of wiping down the table when the ringing of the bell signaled new customers had arrived, and rowdy ones at that too.

"Damn! Is today's special fluffy sponge cake? Cause I would sure love a piece of that ass."

Y/N recognized that annoying voice even from miles away, belonging to none other than one of her old classmates, Jung Wooyoung, whom she considered a friend, if he didn't manage to irk her too much. Turning around, she of course wasn't surprised to see him surrounded by his crew of equally idiotic and adrenaline junkie friends, whom she had to admit were pleasant and fun to hang out with.

"Sit your asses down already, I'll be over in a minute to take your order." She told them before resuming her previous task, earning a scoff from the most dramatic of the group.

"Fine customer service! Don't think you'll be getting a tip from me." His words made her nearly burst into a fit of giggles.

"Wooyoung please, you never ever tip whenever you come. None of you, except Yunho." It kinda saddened her that said male unfortunately wasn't there with them at the moment.

"He doesn't tip you, he tips short stack over there." His friend with cat like eyes pointed towards Lynn, who upon overhearing him held up a rather explicit finger in his direction.

"I'll poison your food San." She threatened with a sing song tone.

"Like I wouldn't know that you already spit on it." San spat back, sticking his tongue out in his immature and infantile fashion.

"Can you guys hurry up and order already? I'm starving and we gotta head to the tracks as early as possible." The fiery red haired male known as Song Mingi blurted out, fingers tapping impatiently against the top of the table.

"If little miss g-string would care to hop her luscious ass over here, maybe we could."

Strutting over to where they sat, Y/N harshly threw the dirty rag on Wooyoung's face, causing a faint grunt to come out of his mouth.

"No matter how many times you mention my ass, I'm still not letting you tap it." She firmly stated, making Wooyoung slightly purse his lips outwards in a disappointed grimace.

"So anygays-" Mingi began.

"Umm I think you mean anyways." San corrected him.

Leaning in towards him, Mingi locked eyes on the shorter male and stared him down with an intimidating glare.

"Did I stutter Choi?"

San immediately shook his head rapidly. With a victory smile, Mingi reclined back in his seat.

"I'm just going to get the breakfast platter with some orange juice."

Y/N couldn't stifle her snort when he said his choice of drink, the other two men looking away in embarrassment.

"You've been drinking orange juice since you were in grade school Mingles, don't you think you outta start taking something more grown up? Like coffee?" San suggested and Mingi did not appreciate it.

"Coming from the one who still brings a plushie to sleep with him, your suggestion holds no value or power." He retorted.

"OK SHIBER IS NOT A PLUSHIE, HE'S FAMILY YOU JACKASS!" San sprinted up from his seat, nearly leaning across to grab Mingi by the color, but he was held back by Wooyoung.

Lynn, who had thus far stayed quiet, promptly came up with a spray bottle and consequently doused the untamed boy on his face.

"Bad kitty, bad kitty." She reprimanded him, unable to resist the opportunity to attack her long time frenemy.

"Lynn!" Y/N looked at her with surprise.

"You're welcome." Lynn replied rather monotone before going back to her place behind the counter like she didn't just spray San with disinfecting water.

"There's too many germs going around anyways..." She muttered under her breath.

Without any further interruptions, aside from the rumbling coming out of the boys' stomachs, they finished ordering what they wanted and Y/N sent it over so they could be prepared. Not wanting to be near their loud asses, Y/N went back over to where Lynn was, peeking over to see what she was currently reading in the magazine she held.

"What you reading?" She casually inquired.

"Horoscope section." Y/N wasn't surprised, her friend tended to be into more mystical, eccentric and rather.....extreme with her taste in fashion and music. If Y/N was the one who turned heads for her scandalous attire, Lynn was the one people turned away from in fear when they saw how she dressed. It was a sight that truly made both of them laugh at people's foolishness, well at least made Y/N laugh. Her friend rarely had any other expression plastered on that wasn't utter disdain for society and life.

Unexpectedly, another customer came in. Both girls looked at each other in confusion when neither of them recognized him. Their town was rather small with few people living there, so they deduced that he must be a traveler who probably got lost on his route. He himself looked around nervously, eyes barely lifting up. Y/N couldn't help herself as she took in his perfect face. Big, round eyes with crystal clear orbs, small face with a V-line jaw, perfectly sculpted nose with no sign of defects, skin smooth and blemish free, he looked like a prince out of a fairytale. He was incredibly pretty, yet stood there so awkwardly that it was almost comical.

"Hey Yeosang! You made it! Sit down! I ordered for you in advanced!" Wooyoung surprised both girls when it seemed he knew the stranger and even waved him over to where they sat. The other two boys also seem familiarized with him and welcomed him to sit with them, chatting up a storm already with him.

"Who's that?" Lynn was the one to finally ask out loud.

"Beats me.....but he sure is adorable."

Noticing the way her lips curled upwards, Lynn could already see the wheels inside Y/N's head turning.

"And I bet you're going to go over there and find out- aaand there you go." She ended up answering her own deduction as she watched Y/N happily walked over with a more bright expression on her face, that soon soured when her boss came out of the kitchen and beat her over to the table, laying down several plates of food.

"I knew as soon as I saw the orders that it had to be the lot of you." She scoffed softly as she looked at the boys' grinning faces.

"You know us Miss Audrey, we wouldn't ever think of eating anywhere else but here. You're the best cook in all of town." Wooyoung praised her with a sparkling charm that could have fooled anyone else but not the robust woman in front of him.

"Boy stop trying to tickle my ears, I've known you since you were in your soiled diapers being carried around by your mama, running around and creating chaos anywhere you went. Flattery may work on them poor girls you play with but me? I can see right through ruffians like you."

Turning her head to finally notice the new addition to the group, she looked him up and down.

"Boy who might you be?" She questioned him, earning the ears of the girls nearby to listen in for any valuable information.

"I'm..... Yeosang Kang, nice to meet you." He introduced himself, tilting his head slightly down when he said that.

"He just moved into town this week! He's the new guy who is going to work with us down at the car shop and help on the race track!" San enthusiastically shouted, making the older woman cringe.

"I may be old, but I still haven't gone deaf for you to yell in such a way boy. So...." She crossed her arms and looked at Yeosang again.

"You a racer too?"

Now the girls, particularly Y/N, were more interested in what his response would be.

"I- yes. So it seems." The poor boy looked so flustered, obviously being more of a soft spoken individual, contrasting starkly to the other 3 boys.

Miss Audrey let out a seemingly displeased hum at his answer.

"As if we needed anymore hooligans running wild. We already got enough with the 3 Stooges over here."

The girls couldn't help but snicker at their boss's words, always having a blast whenever she put the boys back in their place. They however looked displeased, glaring at them intensely.

"Shouldn't you both be off somewhere cleaning dishes or making sandwiches?"

Snatching one of the knifes, Lynn held it up and was about to jump over, but Y/N came up in front of her.

"Lynn, no. Just calm down ok? You know they're just being idiots." Y/N reminded her.

Grumbling something in a foreign language no one knew for sure if it was real or not, Lynn put the knife back, squinting her eyes at them before turning around to not look at them again. Y/N giggled softly, finding it absolutely cute whenever her friend lost her cool and collected form cause it reminded her of a chihuahua, barking and yelping at anything larger than itself trying to establish dominance.

Noticing that in her display of aggression, Lynn had inadvertently knocked over a few of the brochures that were on display for people to take, Y/N stooped down and proceeded to pick them up in a casual manner. Standing up, she neatly arranged them properly, making sure they all faced the same direction and the sides weren't poking out anywhere. Feeling as though someone had been watching her all along, she looked at the table of boys, half expecting Wooyoung's smug grin to greet her, but she was completely wrong as it was none other than the new guy who seemed unable to keep his eyes off her figure, staring intently at the length of her skirt. When he realized she noticed, his eyes went wide, cheeks burning up with utter embarrassment. Y/N however seemed unbothered by this. Wanting to test something, she pretended to accidentally drop one of the pamphlets. Bending over, she made sure he could get a perfect glimpse of her cleavage, if he payed enough attention, he'd be able to see that she was in fact, not wearing any bra. Coming back up, Y/N looked over to see the results, smirking when the agape mouth of Yeosang confirmed to her that he had indeed noticed everything.

"Oh sweetheart, you're gonna be too easy..." She had already made up in her mind that Yeosang would be her next target, and she had to put her plan in action. Placing the brochures down, she was about to go over and start flirting with him, until a familiar voice called for her.

"Y/N! There you are!"

She internally groaned when she heard him, wondering why on earth did he not get the hint of ditching him like that, especially when he very well knew about the reputation she had. She tried ignoring him, but of course, he had had to be the persistent type, no doubt thinking he was going to have a different ending than the rest before him.

"I thought you'd be here. You could have told me you were going to be gone early. I would have made you breakfast."

Knowing she had to say something, Y/N grabbed her pad and gave him the fakest smile she was capable of donning.

"Hi, what can we get started for you today? Waffles? Eggs and bacon? Coffee to start off with?"

The trio of friends, having no choice but to witness the interaction due to it happening right in front of them, snickered amongst themselves.

"Oh shit. He's in for it." San whispered lowly.

The boy obviously looked extremely confused, his smile lightly falling off, but then returning to its hopeful state.

"Why are you acting like this candy bear? Pretending like you don't know me?" When he tried to reach a hand to pull her close, the girl simply pushed him away with one of her fingers.

"Look, clearly you're too stupid to understand so let me spell it out in a language you can understand." Letting out a tired sigh, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, a sour look displaying on her pretty face.

"We had a nice time together, and last night was... average to put it nicely."

"Oh man. That was a total burn." Mingi couldn't help but snort, some of the orange juice being spit back into his glass.

"But that was all it was and all it's ever going to be. So why don't you do yourself a favor and just go back home to your Star Trek figurines and watch the latest episode of Thunder Cats?"

The not so discreet snickering coming from the table behind them only made the humiliation for the man multiply significantly. Turning red with utter despair and rage, he quickly brushed past Y/N rather brusquely.

"Fucking bitch." She heard him mutter under his breath, a phrase she had grown accustomed to hearing among many others.

"Oh god. Homegirl struck again." Wooyoung laughed, swirling his milkshake in his hand.

"Ayo why you gotta do Thunder Cats like that? It's actually pretty entertaining." San commented.

Looking over at the time, the guys quickly stood up, dropping their share of bills onto the table.

"You guys get paid today too right? Come meet up with us at the track." Wooyoung suggested.

"Why on earth would we want to go see your greasy, oil smelling ass after dealing for nearly an hour with you already?" Lynn questioned him, eyes never peering up from her magazine.

"Because Yunho would be there?"

Still she didn't respond, the only movement made was her finger turning the page.

"Bro we been knew she don't give two shits about him." Mingi reminded them.

"Because we're going to the drive in theater after work, they're playing a horror movie."

Lifting her gaze, Lynn closed the magazine, although still stone faced, her eyes seemed to brighten up.

"My interest has been greatly piqued." Her lips showed the faintest whisper of a smile that gave a rather eerie and chilling feel down the people's spines.

"Maybe we should rethink inviting Satan's offspring." San leaned in towards Mingi, shivering significantly.

"Great! So we'll catch you gals later."

The boys quickly dispersed themselves, save Yeosang who still sat quietly, keeping mostly to himself. His fingers fidgeted with the half drunk cup he was holding, gaze fixed on the table in front of him. Looking up, he was attempting to work up the courage to talk to Y/N, but before he could even get the chance to gather strength, the owner came out from the back, whispering a few orders to her and gesturing for her to go tend to a situation in the kitchen. With a defeated sigh, he got up to go join the rest of the gang outside who were waiting for him. Slumping his hands in the pockets of his pants, he moved out of the booth with a solemn gaze.

"Hey."

His steps came to a screeching halt when he heard Y/N call out to him. Looking over, she smiled sweetly in his direction.

"Hope I see you later." With a flirtatious wink, she bid him goodbye as she disappeared into the back.

Yeosang stood there stunned momentarily, replaying her words over and over again in his mind, pondering endlessly at their meaning.

"Little pussy cat sure got you brain dead, didn't she?"

Startled by the unexpected voice next to him, he jumped when the face of the kind yet stern old lady studied him carefully. With a disapproving shake of her head, she decided it'd be best to warn him before he started getting ideas in his head.

"Listen, you seem like a sweet and sensible young man, so it's best for you to listen to me and stay away from that darn girl. Don't let them sugar coated lips of hers sweet talk themselves into your heart. You'll just end up heart broken like all the lovers she's had."

Picking up some of the plates, she gave him one last look, pointing an accusatory finger at him to get her point across.

"She's dangerous." Finally saying what she needed to say, Miss Audrey headed back with plates in her arms, slapping away Lynn's hands when they attempted to pry them off her, barking instructions at her to watch the counter and leave her be.

"Dangerous....." Yeosang thought to himself, the warning the good intended woman gave him sinking deep in his mind. Although he took her words to heart, something about the way she glanced at him pulled at the strings in his chest, taking his breath away when he remembered the risque position she was in that purposely allowed him to view more than he should have. That memory tinted his cheeks pink, lips unable to suppress a small smile. He knew that he should heed the old woman's advice.

But he had to admit that he loved danger and the thrill it came with.........

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Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @brie02 @galaxteez @multidreams-and-desires @deja-vux @hanatiny @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @ateezbabysitters @mingismoon @rainteez02

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binunus · 3 years

Text

college bf!eunwoo

a/n I LOVE HIM !! I WOULD LITERALLY RISK IT ALL FOR HIM !! also rip to the disappointing hookup experience I had that made an appearance in this headcanon...yes I’m still angry about it.

→ pairing: eunwoo x f!reader

→ genre: smut, fluff, fwb to lovers

→ tw: hookup culture, mentions of drinking and drug use, implied almost SA, this is a bit heavy compared to the other ones like please be a cautious a little when you’re reading this

→ word count: 5.6k

_______________________________

here we go ladies and gents

i had something completely different planned for this

and it was super angsty and dramatic

but i had a monumental experience last night so I’m changing this up

and okay okay

i usually try to write all my stuff gender neutral but bc of the idea I have for some of this plot, it’s gonna be a female reader

im sorry to all my male identifying loves :(

and back to our regularly scheduled program

cha motherfuckin eunwoo

lee fuckin dongmin

he doesn’t go by dongmin, he prefers to go by eunwoo, only his family calls him dongmin

as soon as he stepped foot into the university, everyone knew him

and I mean everyone

he’s so attractive

but don’t get it twisted, eunwoo’s the humblest, sweetest bean

he gets very embarrassed when people compliment him for his looks

applied for random roommates his first year and got paired up with swimmer!bin

he and bin become besties and end up rooming together their entire college career

major: music performance, specialty in piano

most people (besides those in the music department or astro) would have never thought eunwoo was a music major, especially since he was incredibly smart and athletic too???

usually gets mistaken for a STEM major

often helps the boys (especially rocky and sanha) with their studies

and oof when he tries out for–and makes it into–the basketball team

everyone ???? floored

eunwoo has game on the court...now with dating??? eh not so much

(at least not sober shh)

he’s tried dating before, at least in the first year or so

the basketball team kept trying to set him up with people

but it never got anywhere substantial and eunwoo always trusted astro to really give the vibe check and no one ever passed

and so he settled for hookup culture every now and then

his emotions are guarded :’(

yes he’s very easy to talk to and always so nice and well mannered

but he’s only himself with astro

now, where do you come into this???

you’re a cheerleader

you and eunwoo know each other by association

you cheer for his home games, you’ve been in a couple of classes together, you’ve seen each other at parties

but would you call yourselves friends?? not really

now you know it’s highly unlikely for you to have a lasting boyfriend in college, especially with your affiliation as a cheerleader, so you also opt for hookup culture

less messy feelings, less drama, less commitment, all that fun

so the first time your paths really intertwine with eunwoo is at a party

the basketball team won a big game and they were out celebrating yuh

and ofc since it’s his team, eunwoo popped out

he only really attends parties hosted by the basketball team bc he feels a bit obligated to go LOL but he always brings swimmer!bin for support

and it’s chill bc bin is also an athlete–yes it’s exclusive like that

but this time, bin couldn’t go so it’s just eunwoo hanging with his team

and yes, you can guess it, you and him get partnered up to play beer pong together!

that’s so cliche omg

but ah ha you hear your opponent, one of eunwoo’s teammates say to one of your fellow cheerleaders: don’t worry baby, I’ll carry you through this game

and you cringed a little ugh men

eunwoo turns to you like: ah sorry if we lose, it’s all luck with me. The guys usually pick to play me bc I’ll probably lose. I’ll drink the cups for you though if you want me to.

you get a little fired up, like aw why do they pick on him that’s not fair

you: well I’m not horrible at pong, so let’s try to crush em

he played pretty well ok! you both got balls back twice in a row right in the beginning

your team was on a roll

you and eunwoo won three games back to back

you were feeling a bit bloated and hazy from the beer that you and him had to drink, but you were still pretty self aware

and you and eunwoo were just chilling after playing the games, you two were on a pretty good wavelength and you wanted to continue it after joking around in between plays

alright now obviously you don’t go into these parties just strictly looking for a hookup, you go to have fun and let loose

but if the person and situation arises??? you wouldn’t necessarily turn it down, especially if that person was cha eunwoo

and yeah, eunwoo was entertaining the idea too, it’s been a while since he vibed with someone like he has with you

basically by the end of the night, you brought him back to your place–you’d rather eat shit than hook up at the basketball house, it was messy and musty and just nope

your place was closer than his

and ~yuh~

it was pretty damn good

he didn’t stay the night, bc well this was a hookup, so after you both had your fill it was a casual alright see you around!

oh lord the fuss your cheerleading team gave you at the next practice asking how your hookup with eunwoo was

the news spread like wildfire

eunwoo didn’t hook up very often so every time he did, it was like breaking news

which is honestly a bit fucked up, but seriously this is how college is

alright so your sex drive skyrocketed after fucking eunwoo

you hook up with another guy at one of the following parties

but it didn’t compare to eunwoo rip so you were pretty disappointed

and you were sorta wondering like hm? should you hit him up? but decided against it

and then! you saw him at the gym working out with literally all of astro

bin probably forced the other 4 to come with him and eunwoo sksksksk

and you were like shit why does he look so good

not gonna lie, just in case he was looking over, you tried to make your ass and tits pop out a bit more, you know squats and shit

unfortunately, it caught the attention of other guys at the gym and not eunwoo grrr

and you were literally just planning to stop being a coward and go up and talk to him, but a guy blocked your path

and he was lowkey being very creepy and way too close for your liking

but you weren’t having it, hell no you ain’t a damsel in distress

being a cheerleader taught you how to defend yourself against predatory men

so you were basically telling him to fuck off and leave you alone, but he was being really damn persistent about it

and just as the guy was about to put a hand on you, eunwoo steps in and he’s like: dude, she’s clearly not interested, fuck off.

after a bit of a stare off, the guy leaves and wow you’re face to face with eunwoo again hehehe

his eyes switch from a glare to a soft worried look and he’s like, hey are you okay?

and you’re like a little giddy, maybe also a little bit turned on bc he’s still like fresh from a workout, his hair was brushed back revealing his forehead, his arm muscles were really defined right now, and just he’s so hot?

but you smile nonchalantly, you genuinely could have just slapped the shit out of the guy or kicked him right in the baby factory, but eunwoo stepping in was also a pleasant surprise, you weren’t complaining

you: yeah. I could have handled it, but thanks for helping

and he just grins, your confidence?? attractive

the two of you just like look at each other for a couple seconds and you’re yelling at yourself in your head like don’t cop out this is what you were waiting for !!

you: so...you’re here with your friends?

eunwoo: yeah, me and my roommate forced them to come work out with us haha. did you come by yourself?

you: yeah, I usually work out with my teammates, but I decided to come alone today

eunwoo nods and you see him like look at your neck and you immediately get a bit shy bc you knew there was a hickey there from your last (very disappointing) hookup: you’ve been having fun recently?

your face flushes: the last one was embarrassing really, so honest to god no

eunwoo: why was it embarrassing? if...you don’t mind me asking

you immediately facepalm: no, yeah I don’t mind telling you...ugh, eunwoo I was literally catfished. this guy really talked mad game about his dick and then when I agreed to hook up, he asked me to suck him off and it literally only took him less than ten minutes. and after he came, he just pulled up his pants and said “damn you give really good head” like the fuck? he didn’t even offer to return the favor or anything, and when I asked him “wait, are we gonna fuck?” he just said “maybe next time.” maYbE neXt tiMe?? I was played so hard, you have no idea how pissed I was, eunwoo. and now I have to wait for his dumb fucking hickey to heal so that I can literally just repress that hookup even happened.

his jaw literally dropped: he didn’t give you anything?

you shook your head, you were getting pissed again

eunwoo couldn’t believe his ears, he glances back at astro for a second and then he clears his throat: well...what are you doing after the gym?

you: nothing, just going home and taking a shower. My roommate’s not gonna be home tonight so I’m probably gonna wallow in my sorrows about that hookup again

he laughs: well sounds like you have a fun night planned, but if you want some company?? I’d be more than happy to come over and help you forget about the sad disrespect of that hookup.

who said eunwoo couldn’t flirt ???

and he was thinking about hitting you up again too before but he didn’t wanna seem like a fuckboy or anything

but seeing you defend yourself against the guy?? lowkey was a bit of turn on for him

obviously you agreed hello

eunwoo going up to astro: so uh...imma head out first...I’ll see you guys later. :)

sanha: hyung so scandalous *O*

you and eunwoo fuck again

and after this time, the two of you have a little bit of pillow talk

basically you tell him that fucking him ruined all other guys for you bc he was just that good

and eunwoo usually gets shy from compliments, but his ego with this one??? he felt a bit proud ohohoho

and he’s like: honestly, you’re the only person I’ve fucked in six months, but I gotta agree that our sexual chemistry is pretty good

so where do you two go from there?

friends with benefits baby, full on fuck buddies

you both talk and agree that you two weren’t looking for relationships at the moment, but the sex was good

i’m gonna get into specifics later, but for now a little more plot

obviously, you and eunwoo talk a lot more now that you two were basically fucking each other at least once a week

the guys notice that he’s so much more?? carefree?? less stressed out?? ever since you and him started your little agreement

and they’re already scheming by themselves, like eunwoo would not get into a situation like this unless he trusted you as a person

and at first it was really just, call each other over, have sex, stay for a little bit longer, then leave

neither of you ever stayed the night bc that’s just an unspoken rule

until there was this one party, a group of people were in one of the rooms at the basketball house and they told you to come join them and ~do drugs~

don’t dabble kids, I’m serious

and you were chilling with eunwoo and bin for a bit until they called you over and you were like: wanna try too?

eunwoo and bin didn’t do it obviously, but you were curious so you went and told them you would be back in a bit

eunwoo was worried about you, bin could see it from a mile away

he kept glancing back at the room and one by one people started to come out, but none of them were you

bin nudging eunwoo: go check up on her

eunwoo opens the door to see you being like pinned down on the bed and he turns livid

he pulls the guy off you and punches him right in the face like: what the fuck do you think you’re doing? what did you give her?

you’re noticeably out of it, sobriety? not there

the guy basically laced something in the drug he gave you, omg you were roofied??

bin comes in and he literally has to hold eunwoo back from beating the shit out of the other guy

the two take you back to their apartment and were making sure that you didn’t die or something shit

literally cannot believe the first time you slept over at eunwoo’s place was when you were drugged up

you wake up the next morning, nauseous, body weak, and confused

eunwoo also wakes up because of your movement: hey y/n, are you okay?

you: eunwoo...what...what happened last night??

he sits up and gives you a recount of the party and you just like hug your body tightly when he brings up the drugs and start crying

he’s a bit shocked when he sees your tears, but he just pulls you in for a hug to try and comfort you, obviously that must have been a bit traumatic

eunwoo: hey...it’s okay...I’m just glad I checked up on you before something worse happened

you: I’m such a fucking idiot...I can’t believe I let myself get put in that situation again...no wonder people think I’m a just a dumb whore.

~trauma~

you and him spill your deepest darkest most traumatizing secrets that morning and you just feel more connected to him

you: I honestly never really told anyone...thanks eunwoo, you’re a good friend.

he feels more protective of you after that??

you start hanging around with him and astro more

and the guys really like having you around !!

you’re very easy to get along with, you also joke and tease eunwoo with them, they love you !

you even become really friendly with the other guys’ partners

about half a year into your fuck buddy relationship with eunwoo

everyone: why aren’t you dating y/n yet?

eunwoo: what do you mean?? we’re just friends...with benefits??

before you even know it, you’re spending literally all your time (when you’re not training or practicing or at class) with eunwoo and his friends

you sleep more at eunwoo’s than you do at your own apartment

honestly you two are already acting like a couple

except for the fact that you only kiss each other when you’re fucking, or you don’t hold hands in public, or you don’t say the L word to each other obviously

but the cuddles? the jokes? the hanging out? if you two are seen together there’s still a little form of physical touch––like a hand on the waist, or resting his elbow on your shoulder––something that tells other people that you two are a bit exclusive to each other

and maybe it’s because both of your emotional capacities when it comes to relationships are akin to a pubescent thirteen year old, but you and eunwoo?? don’t really realize that you’re both basically in love with each other

and it’s also the fact that catching feelings in a friends with benefits?? forbidden

but what if both people catch feelings?

you don’t realize you like eunwoo until a year of fucking each other

damn a year?? y’all really suppressed those romantic feelings hard

you and him were hanging out, per usual, but in the piano rooms of the music building

eunwoo had to practice his repertoire for an upcoming performance and you were free so you decided to come along and keep him company

you knew he was a music major and that he played piano, but you never actually heard him play

you were just chilling by the window, scrolling through your phone, and then he just starts playing and your jaw?? literally dropped

it was so intricate and fluid and elegant, you looked over to the keys and his hands just moved so expertly over them

you were put in a trance, it was so beautiful??

and then you look up and his concentration? seriousness? he has honestly never looked more attractive to you than in that moment

and then eunwoo meets your eyes and he smiles a little: is it bad?

you: no, you’re amazing actually...

and your stomach does a triple somersault and your cheeks start heating up, like why is your heart going haywire???

you start spacing out and obviously he notices

eunwoo calls your name and pats the space next to him on the piano bench

eunwoo: what are you thinking of, hm?

you: n-nothing. keep playing, I wanna hear more

and so he does and your heart just won’t chill out, especially now that you’re literally sitting mere centimeters apart from him

he’s still playing and you just can’t stop thinking about how much you want to kiss him–and not in a sexual way

and that honestly scared you, so you panicked and put your hand near his crotch

eunwoo jolts in surprise, but he doesn’t say anything, he just chuckles and continues playing

do you have sex in the piano room to try and distract yourself from whatever you were feeling? yeah

you hide your feelings for a little bit, but the more time you spent with him, the stronger they got, and you honestly didn’t know what to do

so you tried distancing yourself, you gave eunwoo the excuse that cheerleading competitions were coming up–which they were, so it wasn’t a complete lie–and you needed to focus and have time to yourself

it was so weird for you not seeing him and astro all the time, you barely responded to his text messages or calls, and when you saw him around campus, you would immediately try to avoid him, and it hurt but you were ~scared~

eunwoo’s a smart boy, he knew something was off with you

but after a week of trying to contact you, he didn’t wanna seem annoying or a bother, so he tried not to

even though all he wanted was to see you or talk to you, like it was beyond sex at this point

he missed you, he thought he was going to go insane

he didn’t realize his feelings for you until he saw you talking to a guy in the athletic building

he had basketball practice, and you just finished your cheerleading practice

you were talking to this one guy from your philosophy class, basically joking around and talking shit about your professor

and eunwoo saw you smile at something the guy said and he just felt jealous

his fists clenched, he hated seeing you smile and laugh with the guy like how you used to do with him

and it also didn’t help that you and him haven’t really talked in two or three weeks and he just missed you so much :(

he tried not to think about it during his practice, but it didn’t work, he was off his game for this one, even his teammates and coach noticed it

he went back to his place after practice and called over the boys and basically vented his frustrations

jin: eunwoo. you like y/n

eunwoo: I know...fuck what do I do

bin: tell her, obviously

eunwoo: and risk our?? friendship??

myungjun: you’re a fucking idiot if you don’t see that she likes you back

rocky: yeah...I mean why else do you think noona started distancing herself from you?

eunwoo: maybe I’m just feeling like this because we haven’t met up in a while and I saw her talking to that guy and I don’t know? I’m horny?

sanha: hyung...you sound indenial and jealous.

bin: you like her. we’re surprised you didn’t realize this earlier.

anyway, the day of the competition comes, and the guys and their partners decide to pop out and support you

and seeing them actually made you feel so warm, you wave at them brightly and you meet eyes with eunwoo and you smile at him even though the butterflies are back and at full force

the group is so proud watching you and your team compete, their cheers are debatably the loudest and you literally have to stop yourself from laughing in the middle of your routine

your school places first yuh

and after talking with your team and discussing celebration plans, you go to the group

you were having such an adrenaline rush, you immediately run up to eunwoo in a crushing hug and you kiss him

eunwoo doesn’t even hesitate to kiss you back

astro and them: ohohoho hey

you: I’m so happy you all came! I can’t believe we actually won!

you were going to celebrate with your team bc you knew they were throwing a party, but celebrating with eunwoo and astro/their partners seemed way more appealing to you

you all go out to dinner and drink a little bit casually and it’s all such good vibes

you missed hanging around with them all and it just felt so right

eunwoo rested his hand on your thigh the whole time throughout dinner, he missed you alright, and just seeing you so happy with all his friends? he was hooked

when the group parts ways, it’s just you and eunwoo heading back to his place bc bin is spending the night at his partner’s apartment

and honestly the tension is so thick between you two

you barely make it past the door before you’re both latched onto each other, making out and all that steamy stuff

after you have sex, the two of you are having that post-sex cuddle in his bed and your heart is pounding so loud

you: hey...I’m sorry if it was weird that I kissed you earlier at the venue, I don’t really know what came over me, I was just so glad to see you guys

eunwoo: you don’t have to apologize for that y/n...I missed you

you roll around so that your back is to him bc you do not have the strength to look at him in the eyes right now

eunwoo hugs your waist and pulls you in his chest, he’s spooning you and he has no plans on letting you go any time soon

you: uh...eunwoo, I-we-uh maybe we should stop this...thing from going any further

he literally freezes: ...did I do something wrong?

you: no! it’s...I...fuck I don’t know how to say this...I know we’ve been hooking up for a year but just recently I...think I have feelings for you...and it’s not fair for either of us to continue this if we’re not on the same page.

eunwoo: y/n, I–

you’re rambling now, you’re scared of what he has to say: and honestly you’ve become someone I really don’t wanna lose in my life. You’re an amazing person and friend, and I don’t wanna fuck that up by having feelings for you, especially since you probably don’t feel the same. I just...can’t have casual sex with you anymore...I’m sorry, it would break me.

you’re like trying to get up and you tell him that you’re going to go to the party your team’s hosting but he just tightens his grip

eunwoo: don’t go...please

you: eunwoo, I can’t stay here–

eunwoo: you don’t even know what I feel, y/n...why are you so sure that I don’t feel the same way as you?? because I do...honest to god, y/n, I like you so fucking much. the month that you didn’t talk to me was like hell and I don’t ever wanna experience that again. I missed you so much I thought I was going crazy...please don’t go.

you roll around and face him again

you: y-you like me? you’re not just saying that because you want to keep having sex?

eunwoo: I’m not just saying that because of the sex...I promise

you: so...what does that make us now?

eunwoo: well would you do me the honors and be my girlfriend?

god finally you two are dating

you realize that not much really changes after the two of you make it official

the pda does increase though, you actually hold hands and kiss each other in public now

and you two are more cutesy with each other

yes astro pretends to gag whenever they see you act all coupley

petnames!! you call each other baby, sometimes you call him minnie!! as in dongminnie !! im screaming!!

a poster couple, the basketball player and the cheerleader

literally when you’re both wearing your uniforms and you kiss each other, it’s like one of those teen movies

lots of forehead kisses especially right before bed

eunwoo’s a clingy cuddly boy, especially now that you two are together

lots of study dates?? he is a scholar after all

you’re each other’s biggest supporters !! you always go to all of his recitals and basketball games, he always goes to your competitions

he’s very soft okay, will never stop showing you off or telling you how much you mean to him and how much he loves you

the first I love you came shortly in the relationship, and that’s because you’ve known each other a year prior and the feelings were really just building up since then

you were in the piano room again and he was just playing for fun, but you always loved hearing him ~tickle those ivories~

he was playing a song and singing along and you swear you had heart eyes for him, his voice was so soft and gentle and just wow

you’re sitting next to him and you just hug his waist while he’s playing

eunwoo’s smiling so wide and then he’s singing to you

he doesn’t even get to finish the song, because you’re grabbing his face and kissing him

he’s laughing in between kisses and you can’t help but laugh with him

grrr he’s so cute!

and then you two are just looking at each other

eunwoo: hm?

you: I love you, minnie

he doesn’t miss a beat: I love you too, y/n

you and him have a lot of deep talks together, especially right before bed

it’s the time when he can just let out all the frustrations of the day and just be with you

he actually holds a lot of pressure and worries, but knowing that you’re by his side, comforts him a lot

the two of you have so many pictures together it’s so cute

eunwoo’s a bit possessive alright, not in the toxic way, but will he tighten his grip on your waist if a guy seems to be getting a little too friendly with you? yeah

not gonna lie, you get possessive too, it’s hard especially if your boyfriend is cha eunwoo, he’s the fucking perfect package god dammit

you both tell each other that you don’t have to worry about other people bc y’all are just both so whipped for each other

but it’s still cute when either of you are jealous

he’s actually pretty into couple items, but it has to be like minimalistic-style

like matching plain color hoodies or matching pajama sets

will not wear a “he’s mine, she’s mine” shirt or something

but it’s okay bc neither would you sksksk

will he wink at you if he makes a three pointer during his game? yeah.

literally loves when you wear his clothes or fuck, his jersey?? a turn on

and here we go !! I’ve been talking about sex so much but let’s get into it !!

in the beginning, like before you two started dating, when it was just your fuck buddy friendship, it was sexy

and not saying that it’s not sexy now that you two were in a relationship, but before it was just lust

eunwoo’s a freak alright, you can’t convince me otherwise

he’s a little kinky

definitely into food play, you two use whipped cream during foreplay a little too much...

100% into anal

you know how much he loves ass, has a very nice ass himself

and we already been knew, but yes he’s an ass guy

s p a n k i n g

eunwoo seeing you in your cheerleading skirt? immediate turn on

will literally fuck you while you’re wearing your skirt...just your skirt.

alright alright, you have a hand kink...was it awoken by watching eunwoo play piano all the time? yes

does eunwoo use that to his advantage? yes

the amount of times he’s fingered you??? vaginal and anal??? lord have mercy

very much into overstimulation, will keep fingering you until you squirt

and yes im bringing back my the choking kink

literally if his hands make any contact with your neck area, even when he’s just kissing, you will drench

but ugh you and eunwoo making out and you know how he like cups the back of the neck?? i know y’all have seen it from the true beauty kiss scenes, and then it gets heated and his grip just moves to the front and squeezes and when your mouth opens in a gasp, he shoves his tongue down your throat

that’s so sexy

do you like choking on his cock? probably more than you should

does he make you deep throat until tears are literally streaming down your face? most definitely

he loves marking you?? it’s just a tell tale way to show everyone you’re his

he’s a bit feisty...will he manhandle you during sex?? yeah

eunwoo is a dom. I am 100% convinced that he is a dom, you won’t be domming him honey

daddy and babygirl kink...I said it...

okay he’s a bit of an exhibitionist...would probably be down to have sex anywhere as long as you don’t get caught

piano room sex? locker room sex? library sex? movie theater sex? restaurant bathroom sex? yes you’ve done it all

will he finger you while you guys are having a movie night with the guys? yeah

eunwoo’s a tease, he’s a little shit, will tease you until you’re literally in tears begging for him to just do something

favorite position is doggy, it’s the view of the ass for him

although you two both do like experimenting different positions, especially if it has to do with “training your flexibility”

will pull your hair while he’s fucking you from behind, and will plug your asshole with his thumb–don’t knock it until you try it...it’s...a pretty good feeling

sometimes wakes you up by eating you out

very much a giver ugh king

the type to grip your thighs tighter when you try to push him away from overstimulation just to force another orgasm out of you

believe it or not, he’s a gasper/grunter/groaner

nothing is hotter than hearing eunwoo groan right when he’s about to cum oooof grrrr bark bark

okay but soft gentle sex with eunwoo is so passionate

all you feel is the love and sincerity, especially when he’s just looking in your eyes

the love making happens a lot more obviously when you start dating

he’s just so in love with you alright

gives the best and sweetest after care ugh

cleans you up, gives you massages especially if it was a rough session, cuddles you, draws you a bath, brings you water, everything

always makes sure to tell you he loves you after sex

i would risk it all for eunwoo like please ruin my life

anyway

ugh I just wanna put the idea of protective eunwoo during a party in your head

his hand is always on you. waist, thigh, shoulder, anywhere casually

you don’t fight?? but you do argue

arguing is healthy, and you both would rather let it out and bicker with each other in the moment than let it bottle in and build up into something worse

but when you do have a disagreement, no matter how big or small, you two always make sure to never go to bed angry with each other

communication is very important for the both of you

you’re his better half :’) all the things eunwoo struggles with, you help him with it and vice versa

he figured out you were the one for him during one of your deep late night pillow talks

he was worried about what he’d do in the future after graduating, like he was genuinely having a crisis about it

but you just talked so calmly to him: baby, no matter where you end up after graduation or what you end up doing, you’re going to be fine. You’re such a hard worker and I know that you’ll succeed...no matter what, I’ll be here for you minnie. I believe in you, you’re future is going to be great.

and he just kisses you so sweetly: will you be in my future, baby?

you’re smiling and you just giggle at him: if you want me to be...I’d love to be a part of it.

ugh y’all are so whipped for each other !!

astro always teasing you two, even when you’re all older

you and eunwoo are equally ticklish so basically y’all are fucked when they wanna mess with you

both of your families love you and him instantly

they push marriage immediately after you both graduate college

even astro’s like: we know you two are probably gonna tie the knot first...when’s the wedding?

not gonna lie, you and eunwoo probably get married probably 2-3 years after college, pretty young age

sidenote: eunwoo 100% cries at your wedding, especially when he sees you walking down the isle in your dress

and he has huge baby fever so you bet y’all had kids fairly young too

the best dad !! ugh he loves kids !! ugh so domestic

im just gonna say, y’all have beautiful children

trusts bin and jinjin to babysit your kids the most...he’s scared of the rest of the boys watching over his children

anyway eunwoo literally deserves the world and I just?? love him so much?? happy ending yay hehe

_________________________________________

2-21-21

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arrthurpendragon · 3 years

Text

OC Community Building Stuff

I’ve been researching how to make communities work and pondering how to apply practices to the OC Community for a few weeks now.. I’m gonna say some things that not everyone will agree with. You’re more than welcome to unfollow me, but please don’t send me hate.

What helps make a strong community? Or make a community work? Literally the first thing you Google will tell you:

Recognition

Team Outings

Fitness / Sports Teams

Volunteering

Purpose-designed spaces

I’ve been in the community for awhile now and I’ll give you my take on things. It doesn’t mean that it is the only take on the piece, but here’s what I’ve noticed in my nearly 7 years here on Tumblr.

1. Recognition - everyone reblogs those posts that say you should “reblog people’s art/fics” But from what I’ve seen, most people never take that to heart and put the work in themselves. Some expect people to see that post and then to reblog their stuff. But it’s a two-way street. People then will complain that it shouldn’t be tit-for-tat but what world have you been living in? Most things come at a price. For most people (in case you haven’t noticed, life isn’t always fair), you have to put in what you want out of it.

How to fix this issue? Reblog people’s stuff. I have met people out there who are more willing to reblog my stuff because I reblog their stuff. Like people’s stuff. Review people’s fics. Send them asks. Follow random new blogs that seem OC they will likely follow you back (I know for fact this is true. Not everyone but many)

You have to help foster the experience you want. If you want recognition, try your hardest to recognize others.

2. Team Outings - I think this is one thing some people are already doing in a sense. Giveaways. Read & Reviews. Review exchanges. I think our problem is that we are burning out the people who take the time to do this for the communities.

How do we fix this issue? Host a giveaway or exchange. Spread it around so that we aren’t burning out our OC community friends. Maybe you can’t make graphics, that’s okay! You can still host and see all the cool things. OR host a review exchange. The more events that different people make, the more people that can feel welcome. Maybe one person isn’t comfortable with person A but they are with person B - it’s not competition - it’s just another opportunity.

MAKE SURE YOU DO NOT TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE PEOPLE HOSTING! it doesn’t hurt you to say thank you. As someone who hosts quite frequently the number of people who don’t say thank you is astonishing and usually those are the people who tend to ask and ask and ask.

Make sure people know they are appreciated! I rarely - RARELY felt appreciated when queuing stuff for ocappreciation. Most people would come to be like “you made a mistake” but not realizing that fingers slip, that people try their best, that people don’t put information on the post and I have to guess. But I RARELY got a thank you for reblogging the posts. People just expected it because it was tagged, like they were entitled to ocappreciation - hence why I stepped back several times. (May try to restart it again, but I digress)

3. Fitness / Sports Teams - This one was a bit harder to qualify in the OC community, I’ll fully admit. BUT what it boils down to is a people you like to spend your time with. These are called friends. Do you work out with every person in your acquaintance? No. Just because you aren’t in a “friend group” doesn’t mean it’s exclusive. Honestly, for the most part if you approach someone in the community, they’ll reciprocate. But again, everyone expects someone to recognize them struggling. Imma be honest, I haven’t felt like I’ve had “close friends’ here on Tumblr until maybe the past year or two and I’ve been here for almost 7 years. You don’t always find your niche right away. But I don’t hold any malice or hate toward anyone. Anyone is welcome to approach me.

How do we fix this issue? Be patient and try to find your people. You might not “fit in” with a certain group and THAT’S OKAY! They don’t have to be your besties, they can be acquaintances that you are nice to. That’s how it works in real life too. Don’t expect everyone to be your best friend. But stilll be kind to people and respect other people. If you want to be friends with someone because you think they’re cool - reach out to them. Chances are, they might be looking for a friend too, but a lot of us are introverts are afraid to make the first move. Someone’s gotta make it - or everyone is gonna be miserable.

4. Volunteering - I feel I covered most of this heavily in #1 & 2. Randomly go review someone’s fic without prompting. Send them an ask (it can even be on anon) Reblog other people’s stuff. Join a discord group. Thanks people. Host a giveaway or exchange. It takes everyone to build a community.

5 Purpose-designed spaces - There are SO many oc blogs, whether is is ocappreciation, allaboutocs, or other fandom-related blogs...

*side note interact with those blogs too so people know they aren’t wasting their time reblogging and queueing stuff because it can be burdensome*

There are also Discord groups - you just gotta find them. Maybe if you read this and have an OC discord group, just say in the notes that you have one if people are welcome to join.

In conclusion, to improve this community there is something almost everyone in the community can work to strive to do better. But we can’t let only a few people be the ones to do all the work and then burn out.

If you’re fed up with “the community” then try to help fix it instead of complaining about it. I bet if we worked on these 5 things, we could make the OC Community a better place.

#oc community #ocappreciation #allaboutocs #oc community building

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klaineownsmysoul · 3 years

Note

Why does D agree to certain things? It’s probably because the alternative is worse but then I still don’t understand why he agreed to the sham. He could not have right? Idk what would have happened had he, but I feel anything is better than being married to her. All she does is ruin his reputation, and give him a straight image (to his team), so I genuinely wonder what image he wants for himself because if he didn’t go along with it, what else could they have painted him as that they haven’t already and continue to?

There are endless opinions on this, depending on who you ask. The m/iarren stans and the fans who believe that every message from D’s SM are actually from him will tell you that there was nothing to agree to because he loves her and wanted to marry her because he can’t live without her. They have a love that’s truer than true and are #couple goals. They are perfect for each other in every way and he adores her every breath and she’s just as devoted to him, which is why she follows him everywhere he goes. There’s nothing odd about the length of their relationship and the fact that no one involved in it can give you a consistent time frame. You ask 5 people how they met or when they started dating, you’ll get 5 different answers. All those pics of them together where she’s grabbing onto him and clutching at any limb within her reach are just her being affectionate. The fact that they sit like strangers on a subway during one part of an interview and when it’s noticed, the next part that’s released has both of them being all touchy feely is just coincidence. The dude bro slang and emoji filled posts are just him having fun and being spontaneous. They’re cheeky and silly. Its just him living his best life and there’s nothing forced or untoward about it. He loves only hanging out with her trashy besties and spending nights entertaining the masses in her piano baby/lifelong dream business that she can’t be bothered to promote or run while he accompanies her on the piano looking completely lifeless as she drunkenly butchers one of the 4 songs she knows and thinks she can sing. He’s just being a supportive partner when he talks about the awful branded merchandise from the strip bar during a tv segment that’s supposed to be about his career and then models it later on in a cute coupley pic where he looks like his soul has just left his body. Having her accompany his every move is just what married couples do or didn’t you know that? It’s not natural for one partner to do something without the other, especially if it’s career related. All celeb couples are joined at the hip once they officiate their own wedding. All celeb couples have a wedding - or a great party as it’s sometimes known as - that is corporate sponsored to within an inch of its life. All celeb couples who have one person say they didn’t want to be in a public relationship have a cover story done in Vogue magazine and then have their pr team make sure the link to that article is noted and shared in practically every print interview done for the other person for over a year. This is all completely normal behavior for a 100% believable couple.

There are no such things as contracts that dictate behavior and managers and pr teams don’t post things on their client’s behalf. Lavender relationships and marriages are a thing of the past. No one would dare impose something like that on a celeb in 2021. It must be nice to be that naive. Or sad. Mostly sad. If you believe that, then you haven’t been listening to the stories of celebs who’ve been closeted and decided to come out at the risk of their career. It’s a thousand times easier to market someone as straight - there’s no denying that. And when you’re young and just starting out, you have no leverage whatsoever and will go along with what people tell you to do. If you don’t, you don’t have a career. It’s as simple and evil as that. They hold all the cards and if you want to be a musician or an actor, you have to play by their rules. You sign a deal and before you know, everything has snowballed and you’re in so deep, you don’t know how to begin to climb out. Look at Taylor Swift and the mess she’s gone through with her songs and she’s one of the biggest singers on the planet. Whether you’re a fan or not, you know who she is. If she can’t get control over songs that she freaking wrote because of a shitty contract she signed when she was like 16 without massive amounts of legal issues, what hope do the people who are less famous have? Look at what D said about his lack of input on the evolution of Blaine’s hair and how he didn’t want to rock the boat. Something as simple as that and he didn’t feel like he could or should speak up. Now apply that same mentality to a legal document and think about how hard it would be to try to countermand any part of it, especially when you’re as young as he was then.

D’s team is particularly troublesome because they’re lazy and incompetent and have no interest in marketing him as he really is. The easy way out is the straight way out and that’s their lane. That’s the one they’ve chosen and they will ride that till the wheels fall off. Let’s be honest: D is all RR has. He’s going to milk every drop he can out of D while he can. There’s no celeb out there with an established career who’s considering new management who looks at D’s situation: the circus that is always around him, the garbage that’s posted on his SM in his name, the endless ads for things like ugly ass jewelry and a paid promo pic for a 5 star hotel in the Philippines from the group honeymoon (not a thing) that they crashed after D spent days sifting through garbage with women who live in abject poverty and will never make the kind of money that even a meal at that hotel would cost which totally makes him look awesome - and think “yes! This is what’s been missing all along. Where do I sign?” He’s not getting a free home reno and some TV time from the girl who played Luna in the HP movies and B/ecca T/obin - someone who played a forgettable and unremarkable bitchy blond cheerleader (def breaking the mold there, totally not a trope that can be found in every 80s high school movie or tv show) and now hosts a ridiculous podcast. So he’s going to push his own agenda and make sure that everyone knows his client is straight at every opportunity that’s presented and foist his bride in our faces at even more opportunities just in case it wasn’t clear because oh my god did you hear that D is straight? And he’s been dating this super cool rockstar woman since he was an embryo so there’s no way anything could have ever happened between him and someone else from this show he was on for a while. It wasn’t a big deal or anything. He had a small role and a love interest but they weren’t real popular. I mean if you’ve seen one gay teenage romance, you’ve seen them all. The show’s been over for 5 years and they’re hardly ever mentioned now so there’s no point in keeping them alive. It’s not a role that meant anything to him and it’s certainly not something he would want to celebrate the 10 year anniversary of. I wonder if he was allowed to do that as long as managed to shoehorn in a mention of his lovely ball and chain of many moons. Because that’s what always happens. Doesn’t matter what the topic at hand is - it always seems to come back around to her. And she just smirks and flashes her fake engagement ring at the camera and eats it up because he does all the work and she reaps all the rewards. Like RR, she’ll never give him up without a fight because what then? No one will write articles about what a badass she is. No one will be there to do free promo for her strip bar. No more red carpet pics or designer duds gifted to her. No more free trips to Europe or last minute weekend getaways with his stylist. No one will care about her super secret Instagram account and post pics from it that she’s forwarded over so they get picked up and pumped out to news blogs for maximum coverage. No more pics with actual famous people because who’s inviting a career less nobody to events? She’s a woman in her mid 30s who behaves like an 18 year old on spring break and thinks nothing of it. She doesn’t give a shit how her behavior reflects on D because she doesn’t care about him. All she cares about is what he can provide her and that’s secondhand fame, money, and the image of the best wife to ever wife. But if he was single, then there’d be even more questions about his sexual orientation than there are now and no way to refute anything. So we get this clusterfuck. What they fail to understand is that the harder they push, the more holes they create and the more distasteful this all becomes. I just want to be a fan of D. That’s all I want. But I can’t do that because he comes with a front and center “work family” that I can’t get away from.

I sometimes don’t know what he wants for himself image wise but I truly don’t think it’s this. The difference between in person D and SM D is too great for me to believe he’s really cool with all of it. I don’t know how many more times he has to say that he’s rarely on SM, which should be the reddest of red flags that most of the stuff posted is not coming from him. The fact that he’s taken to SM to rebuff things said in his name that are patently false and insulting reinforces that belief for me. He’s not perfect but he’s not the fake barely literate guy he’s portrayed as. I wouldn’t still be here if I thought that’s who he really was and I wouldn’t care at all about his personal life if it wasn’t shoved down my throat ad naseum.

Well this post kinda got away from me. 😊. I’m so very tired of all this and if I’m tired, D must be exhausted.

#pathetic and obvious table for one please #Hollywood is effing toxic #he deserves so much better

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rahleeyah · 2 years

Text

This last anon you answered got me thinking about why so many of us keep going back to twitter, even when we openly admit to feeling better after taking long breaks, or call it toxic or are affected by w/e the drama of the week (day?) happens to be. I'm sorry if this seems out of place, but since this is neither the first nor second time you bring up these issues, I figured I might as well share my thoughts here with you.

I can only speak from my own experience, so I'm sure what I'm about to say doesn't apply to everyone. I'm sure a lot of people manage to find great friends over there and enjoy the best that twitter has to offer. In fact, most days I feel like I do a decent job at filtering what I pay attention to over there. But still, there are days, those really bad, depressing, 'the world sucks and I just wanna escape it for a bit' days, when I feel myself being pulled into whatever bad spiral is going on at the moment. Yesterday was one of those, tbh, and I had to stop and ask myself why? Why do I still feel the need to keep going back to a site that more often than not leaves me feeling anxious and upset?

The answer isn't very flattering, tbh, and I might regret sharing this here, but I realized it's not the tweets or the likes or the mentions I'm craving. It's just, you know, somewhere to share my love for these characters/shows with other ppl like me. And that's where y'all tumblr ppl come in and say "why, join us over here where it's calmer and friendlier and slower." I believe you, Leah, because your blog is the perfect example of that. It's such a pure, honest representation of the very best sides of fandom, and you know it's true, since you're always drowning in asks lol. But, damn, it's not quite for me... Maybe it's bc I'm not much of a visual person, so gifs and pictures don't really grab my attention for long? Or, more likely, it's bc it takes time and dedication to shape a blog, and the sheer anxiety I feel every time I decide to put anything out into the wild west that is the internet makes it much easier to do so in short bursts of 280 characters or less. Idk...

Whatever the case may be for other twitter users who, like me, keep using twitter even when it makes them anxious, I have to believe that at least a few of them share my desire for connection. And it sucks that I've been there for months, and the 'friendships' I made are superficial at best. But from the little I gathered from observing other users, many many people feel alienated or left out while 'everyone else is friends with each other'. Some people really are, probably, but it's really hard to tell when we're all 'besties' forever reacting to the latest piece of news that just dropped, be it real or fabricated, don't ya think?

I'm sorry for this rant and for how long it ran... I guess I just wanted somewhere to go a bit more in depth about the seemingly neverending chaos, what with the way it often ends up making it's way to your asks, regardless of your advice to just. not. go. there.

---

This is a submission from @unusualcliches

First I want to thank you for sharing this with me friend. I'm really glad you felt comfortable enough to come here and talk bc it's important that we have places where we can say what's on our mind.

And I wanna apologize, bc I was sort of flippant with my comment about staying off Twitter. I wanna make it very clear I don't hold anything against the people who prefer to use it and I'm not actually recommending that no one go there. Everybody is looking for different things and has different ways of engaging and of course people are gonna have preferences, and those preferences are gonna vary from mine, and that's ok!!

We all want community and Twitter does offer that more easily. I said this in a moment that got edited out of the podcast but I can't imagine trying to get started on Tumblr now. I have made some profound, life changing relationships here, but that took work, and time. I've been shaping my blog for over a decade. Starting from scratch now feels like a herculean task and I totally understand why this platform wouldn't suit everybody's needs.

I am not gonna advocate for people continuing to use social media if it's negatively impacting them, if it's generating feelings of anxiety or isolation, but I am also not gonna judge you or anyone for continuing to do so bc we all do things we maybe shouldn't, or that aren't good for us, big or small, all the time. It's human. It's understandable. We see something that we want, that maybe could be good for us, and we keep coming back in the hope that even if it wasn't good to us the last time, it will work out now. I'm not gonna fault you for that.

Twitter has the ability to connect people quickly, easily, openly; it is much, much easier to find people there. But bc it moves so fast, it's hard to make those connections last. There are people there who post these pictures and share these stories and have clearly found their in-group and that's wonderful! But it's rare. It's rare here, too, rare anywhere; it's a needle in a haystack, really, finding the person or persons out of such a big group who will be your people. You send a lot of DMs that don't go anywhere before you find the one that sticks. But bc Twitter is so public, I think we see more of those connections than you see here on Tumblr. On Twitter it's so visible, you see "oh it's possible to find your people here, look they did it" but you don't see all the times it didn't work out. Like Instagram; you're seeing the shiniest parts of people's lives and not the work it took to get there.

All this to say, it's completely understandable that you feel this way, and I won't blame you for going back even if it's burned you before. It's an act of hope, really. I make the choice not to spend a lot of time there, but that's my choice for myself, and it's not up to me to make that choice for anyone else. I hope you do get something good out of it.

#asks #s.vu #e.o asks

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waveridden · 3 years

Note

jamie! tell me abt nerd pacheco. for the ask meme. and also … grollis zephyr.

>:) putting under a cut bc this got long

nerd:

favorite thing about them: EVERYTHING. uhhh no i really love academics i think that they're very patient

least favorite thing about them: holds a grudge. like they're very polite about it but i think they are very spiteful

favorite line: doesn't apply but anyways remember when they were the captain of their coffee cup team

brOTP: nagomi nava! there's something on the wiki about how they had a hellmouth tradition bc for a minute they were the last two original beams batters still on the lineup and i love that. honorable mention tiana takahashi i just think they'd vibe

OTP: val hitherto. val val val. the professor and the time traveler are in love

nOTP: beams i'm sorry but nerd/lars just does not do it for me

random headcanon: can't spell. just can't. they have like a dozen doctorates and they just cannot fucking spell

unpopular opinion: i don't get why they're a moose. like, i don't understand why the hellmouth would do that. is the hellmouth a force for chaotic randomness or general malice? who can say! anyways i think if nerd is going to be part animal it should be an animal that's native to the moab region. i propose bighorn sheep

song i associate with them: uhhh i have to be honest i don't know! i never made a nerd or nerd/val playlist

favorite picture of them: my mental image of nerd is different than fanon. that being said i love birb's art of them with lars. yes i said i don't like nerd/lars yes i like this art and i'm right

grollis zephyr:

favorite thing about them: passionate! feels things so so deeply

least favorite thing about them: trust issues. babygirl you were a child actor and it ruined your ability to have lasting relationships and you are just not working on that

favorite line: i do not have one here

brOTP: i have a big soft spot for grollis and val! especially in s24 i imagine them as getting close in the last few days before the black hole

OTP: is the general public ready for the word of quails. the good word of quails. do you think the world is ready. (i will write about them at some point)

nOTP: okay we're gonna flip it and reverse it. the lift qp-divorced yusef and grollis and i don't vibe with that. they're not still qp besties or whatever but i want a healing arc for them

random headcanon: knows basics in like a bunch of different languages. this is a combination of 1) being a child actor and doing tours (ze did tokosatsu stuff and i feel like ze did press tours, mostly in japan but also china/korea/east asia), 2) doing urban exploration wherever ze travels and learning basics enough to read signs, and 3) adhd "i'm going to learn portuguese!" [two weeks later] "i'm going to learn hebrew!" [two weeks later] "i'm going to learn arabic!" [two w

unpopular opinion: i mean i think my takes just differ from fanon. grollis was a child actor that kept (semi-unhappily) acting into hyr teen years and then did a several-years-long stint travelling, tried school, started playing blaseball in lower-level leagues, got signed to the ilb. this is my arc. also as mentioned i don't vibe with the yusef/grollis qp divorce arc

song i associate with them: anybody by maggie rogers! it's a little bit a quails thing bc it's on my playlist but also i think that ze is a very lonely person and wants to find someone, in some capacity, and that's yusef for a while and maybe it's val and. yeah!

favorite picture of them: in my head ze looks like sen mitsuji in these photos

#waveridden.ask #sunflowersnips #i need a blaseball tag #THANK YOU MWAH THIS WAS FUN

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unmaskedagain · 5 years

Text

Rate this (Trust is Hard to Come By)

Its six am here and I just got to work. And am now writing a drabble at my desk. Again tweaked prompt a bit. Oh and I just realized that based on this and my last few “drabble” that are long that some picture books… I don’t know what a drabble. Or least I know it doesn’t apply to what I usually write.

No one would who or what had caused the akuma this time. However, when a thirteen-year-old superfan of Ladybug got Akumatized, everyone knew it.

A loud voice boomed in the ears of all the citizens in Paris, “Beware Paris, I am the Gardener, protector of the Loveliness. Those who have failed our Queen Ladybug will be revealed. A number you shall be given on a scale to 100; the higher the number, the more trust the Queen has in you. Low numbers have failed our Queen, betrayed our queen, betrayed the loveliness, and will be punished!”

“Loveliness,” Adrien asked, already preparing to make a break for it to transform.

Unaware that Marinette decided to wait for a bit. Some lessons needed to be learned the hard way. All the kids were at lunch and seemed to be enjoying the day until the alert happened.

Max pushed his glasses up, “A group of ladybugs is called a ‘loveliness of ladybugs.’. Gardeners love Ladybugs because Ladybugs protect their gardens.”

“Cool!” Kim grinned. “We get to see how much Ladybug digs us.”

Alya preened, “I’m at least a 90.” She pulled out her phone. “I’m so going to live stream this.”

“I think I’m like an 80, dude,” Nino smirked.

All the kids gave their guess; most figuring they were at least in the 70s. It was Alya who joked, that Marinette probably had a ten.

The others agreed; thinking the girl had been such a bully lately, and so mean to Lila.

Marinette overheard them from where she, Chloe, Kagami and their new friends sat. A smirked spread across her face. This would be good.

A blindingly flash filled the cafeteria. When it was gone, all the kids had numbers above their heads.

One by one the excited grins on the students of Bustier’s class faded.

“A two,” Alya paled. “How can I be a two?” A dark ugly red 2 floated above her head. She touched the number and words appeared next to it: Warning: Disloyal. False friend. Bully. Anger control problems. Easily swayed. Bad journalist… etc.

Nino frowned, “I got a four.” How could he have a four? He was carapace. Ladybug had chosen him herself. Or at least she had. He hadn’t gone Super in over a year. Was that when Ladybug lost her trust in him?

He touched the number. His warning said: bad friend. Disloyal. Bully. He touched it again before he could read any more.

Kim had a five. Alix had a three. Mylene had a seven. Rose and Juleka had 10s. Ivan had an eight. Nathanial had an eleven. Max had a six. All were in the red. All had similar warning signs.

Adrien had frozen in his seat when he saw his number. A 14. How could he be a 14? Why did Ladybug barely trust him? They were partners, friends, maybe more one day. But how could they be any of that she didn’t trust him.

He touched his number. His warning sign read: Naïve, Spineless, pushy, Bad friend, and, in bold letter, COWARD.

“We should go,” Max whispered. “People are staring.”

And sure enough they were. Most of the student body had numbers in the 30s or 40s, it was respectable seeing as they barely dealt with the hero. However, this meant it was easy to find the kids who ranked so much lower.

Slowly suspicious eyes fell on Bustier’s class. What had they done, most wondered. Whatever, it was they knew it was bad. Somehow the students of Bustier’s class had hurt Ladybug. And as far as the rest of the school was concerned, and those watching from Alya’s livestream, if Ladybug couldn’t trust them, they couldn’t either.

Marinette watched with cold eyes as her classmates and ex-friends scrambled to rush out of the cafeteria. Still she kept a smile on her face as one by one student came up to thank her for whatever she had done for Ladybug; for being such a good friend to the hero.

A glowing, bright beautiful emerald green 92 floated above her. It was the highest number anyone had seen so far. Her words attached were less of a warning and more of brag: Loyal, Honest, Good. Trustworthy. Caring. A great friend. Hardworker. Heroic. Brave. Then her warning was: A bit too insecure but working on it.

Aurore beamed at her friend, livestreaming from her own phone to her new Bugout. She had a neon green 70 above her head. Her words: Honest, Hardworker, loyal, good friend, amazing journalist. “Everyone post a pic of themselves with the number above their heads; it’s blowing up Twitter.”

Chloe gave everyone smug grins, as she had the second 86 above hers. Her words: Brave, strong, loyal, good. A great hero. A great friend.

Kagami had a 72. Her words: loyal, confident, headstrong, good, good friend. Marc a 67. Ondine a 66. Claude a 71. They all had similar ones to Kagami.

“You’re in Bustier’s class, right, Marinette?” A girl who had come to thank Marinette had asked. Her question drew attention from everyone. “Are you going to be safe there? With them?”

Claude frowned, “Maybe you shouldn’t go back there.”

It took a lot of reassurance to get her friends and even quite a few of the other students who had been in the cafeteria to allow her to go back to her class. Even then, Marinette found Ms. Mendeleiev, who had a solid forest green 71 above her head and had a bit more pep in her step that usual, escorting her and Chloe to class.

Students in the hall moved out of Marinette way as soon as they saw her coming, a look of awe on their faces. The bluenette couldn’t find the pink blush that crept on to her face.

They knew they had gotten to Bustier’s class when they saw the red glow emerging from the room

Alya couldn’t believe it. How couldn’t Ladybug trust her? She was Rena Rouge. Or least she had been. There had been a new Fox running around with Ladybug, lately. Rena hadn’t been seen in over a year. Still, Alya ran the Ladyblog. Alya thought they were friends. But how could that be true with a 2 above her head. And she wasn’t a bully or disloyal.

The rest of the class had a similar mindset. Even Bustier, who had a three, had a sorrowful look on her face. She didn’t understand what she had done wrong.

When green glows entered the room, they all noticed. Mouths dropped.

Ms. Mendeleiev with a 71, they could understand. She was a great teacher, no one could deny it. The beautiful blond Chloe they could sort of understand. She had an 86; maybe she had done more good as Queen Bee than they knew about. Marinette though? Their minds just couldn’t compute.

How could Marinette have a 92?

They read the words attached to her and Chloe’s numbers with disbelief.

Said girl thanked Mendeleiev who had taken to blatantly staring at Bustier with distrust. It occurred to Mendeleiev, that the younger teacher did have an absurdly high number of Akuma transformation from her students. When Mendeleiev and told everyone what she had seen and realized; most of the other faculty would begin to keep a close eye on Bustier and her class. Something just wasn’t right with that lot.

Marinette and Chloe made their way to the seats in back. The green above their heads looked a halo.

Alya wanted to scream. “Why does Ladybug trust you?” She asked the girls.

“She’s Queen Bee,” Marinette pointed at Chloe. “A loyal ally of Ladybug.”

Chloe smirked, “Don’t you remember that it was Marinette who first got you that interview with Ladybug; the reason your blog became as popular as it did?” She asked reporter. “Marinette’s Ladybug’s friend.”

Any scathing thing the students had been thinking to sneer at the girls died on their lips. Marinette was Ladybug’s friend. They knew Marinette knew the hero but never thought about how close they were.

“Why do think Ladybug stopped giving you interviews?” Chloe leaned back in her seat. A euphoric feeling filling her. “She only started working with you in the first place because she knew you were Marinette’s bestie. Once that changed, well… Ladybug just didn’t want to work with you anymore. Something about Journalistic Professionalism. How is your website doing by the way? I haven’t checked in a while. I normally use Aurore’s Bugout blog. Ladybug endorses it, you know?”

Marinette could have kissed the blond. The devastation on Alya’s face was finally karma for all the nasty texts she had sent to Marinette before she change her number.

Nino pulled his girlfriend into a hug.

“She read those texts you sent me by the way.” Marinette sent them a cold smirk as horrified looks overcame their faces. “Every last one. She was so disappointed.”

“You showed her?” Rose whispered. “How could you show her?”

“Why not?” Marinette shrugged. Rose hadn’t sent as many mean texts as the others in class and weren’t all that mean; just accusatory and claiming that she refused to be friends with a Bully. “I trust her. She trusts me. I even sent her videos of what a day in our class has been like lately. Ladybug got to see and hear everything personally. She has so many concerns about the goings on in this. She’ll be going to the school board with the videos.”

Bustier paled. She knew the students had gotten a bit out of hand but surely they weren’t that bad. They were just kids after all. (The teacher would get her answer a week later, along with a pink slip.)

Alya sobbed as she remembered everything she sent Marinette. How could she know Ladybug would read them? No wonder Alya got a 2. Ladybug probably hated her. “I only sent that because you were being such a bully.”

“Yeah,” Alix hissed. “It’s not fair. You were being such a freak about Lila!” There were nods.

And as the old saying goes, speak of the devil, and the devil…

Lila had taken her sweet time getting to school that day. She had lied to her mother that it was closed for the morning because an Akuma. And it was just her luck that one would appear. She had stayed in bed all day, earphones blasting music in her ear, wondering just how she’ll amazing her classmates that day. It felt great to be adored.

When Lila got up to leave for school, she looked in the mirror and saw a dark, blood red glowing Negative 51 above her head. She shrugged and left her apartment. Earphones still in her ears. A happy smile on her face.

She didn’t notice the shocked and disgusted looks on people’s faces as she passed them. Or why a mother picked up her a child and ran in the other direction. Lila didn’t see the brave man who reached out, with shaky hands, and touched her number as she passed by. Nor she see the People taking pictures of her and her warning signs. The photos went viral almost instantly, everyone wanted to know just who was the girl with the only negative number in all of Paris… As far they knew.

When Gabriel Agreste saw Lila’s image on the web, he ordered Nathalie to sever all connections to the teen girl and release a statement making it clear the company had no idea just what Lila Rossi had been capable of. Afterwards, Gabriel wondered what Lila had done to earn such a dramatically low number.

Gabriel himself was at a respectable and average 30. While Nathalie was at solid 34. Decent not too green numbers. Though as Hawkmoth, they were both an Ugly negative -2. He knew he was a Supervillian; Ladybug regarded him as a bad guy. But she seemed to regard Lila Rossi as pure evil.

…Maybe Hawkmoth should sever his connection to the Italian girl as well.

Lila arrived at school, just at the end of lunch, students had just started to leave the cafeteria for lunch. She didn’t notice that students stopped in their tracks to stare at her. Or the teachers with horrifying and calculating looks on their faces. She didn’t seem Damocles’ pale and rush off to call her mother.

She didn’t notice anything. Lila just smiled pleasantly; having decided to go with a Prince Ali story that day. Maybe that he asked her to marry him. She’d be the envy of all the girls in class.

However, when Lila got to the class she did notice the shocked looks she got from her classmates. But not the cold smirk on Marinette’s face.

“What?” Lila asked looking around. “Did something happened? Oh, no is the Akuma still around? How awful!” She said fighting the smile off her face. Hopefully Ladybug was getting her ass kicked, she thought.

Alya dropped her phone. Negative? How could Lila be negative? How could she have such a low negative number at that?

Everyone in class read the giant warning label attached to Lila Rossi’s number: Liar, backstabber, nasty, bully, untrustworthy, manipulative, rotten, villain, horrible person; the list went on and on. However, it was that shook them to their cores: Evil. Not bad. Not awful. Evil.

Alya collapsed against her boyfriend, “No. No. I didn’t know. I swear.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Nino comforted her. “None of us knew.” There were nods from the other students.

Marinette and Chloe looked at them with narrowed eyes because: What the hell.

“Except I told you she was a liar,” Marinette glared at them. “You didn’t listen. You turned against me… for her.”

“You turned against Marinette,” Chloe said slowly. “The girl who did everything for you. And for what? A few glittery stories and false promises?”

Adrien closed his eyes. Was this why Ladybug distrusted him? Because he didn’t side with Marinette like he knew he should’ve. Plagg had warned him he was wrong. But he just didn’t want to risk losing all his friends like Marinette seemed to be losing hers.

Marinette looked at Rose, “Now I want you think again about every text you all sent me because of Lila Rossi.” Once again the students turned pale. They had been so mean, so harsh, so unbelievable cruel to the girl that had been so dear to their hearts. “Now I want you to remember again that Ladybug saw them.”

Rose was the first to break out in tears. “I’m-I’m sorry!” She sobbed and struggled to find her words. She had disowned one of her closest friends for a villain. “I’m so sorry!”

Other students were in the same boat she was. The fiery Alix was had been contemplating going on another tirade against Marinette when Lila walked in, felt her anger be snuffed out a like a campfire in a thunderstorm. The pink haired girl remembered helping lead the charge in showing Marinette what it was like to be bullied; tripping her, ripping of her homework, shoving her. What she done? Kim had been crushing on Lila hard felt crushed. Marinette had been since friend since pre-k, and he just… left her.

Lila looked honestly confused. She had missed something, and it was big. “What’s going on?”

Nino glared at the girl; his eyes red, tear streaks his face. “Those numbers tell the world how much Ladybug trusts you. Or how much she doesn’t,” He said darkly, thinking about his own number and his actions against the girl he once called his best friend. “And why.”

“The lower the number,” Adrien added. “The less she trust you.”

Chloe leaned forward in her seat and sent vicious smirk to the Italian girl, “And guess who has the only negative number in Paris.” She teased. “Besides Hawkmoth, but at least he was smart enough to hide. You’re trending by the way.”

“No!” Lila said, looking around desperately, but all she saw was cold stares. “No!” She pulled out her phone, and sure enough the name Lila Rossi was trending. Her picture with the giant negative number above her head seem to be everywhere. “This can’t be happening! How can this be happening!”

Marinette stood up, “Because you’re a bad person. You’re mean and you’re cruel. And worst yet, you dragged everyone down with you.” She said. Her voice was righteous or angry. It was like she was stating a fact from a history book. Marinette looked over every single one of her ex-friends, “Ladybug will never trust you again.”

The bell rang.

“Time for class,” Chloe sang. “Maybe you guys will finally learn something.”

#ml salt #ml spite #ml fic #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better #chloe bourgeois #chloe deserves better #adrien salt

4K notes · View notes

ruewrites · 3 years

Note

bestie can we get some solodeus angst

The Next Step

AO3

WBT

Ship: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 3081

Warnings: None

A/N: Hey Anon! So I struggled with this request for a bit. So I decided to write a little oneshot for WBT. I hope you like it and I hope this may be what you had in mind for some angst (with a happy ending)!

“So do you wanna do something this week? We could go check out that movie we thought might be bad. Frankenzilla’s Aquatic Monstrocity Two?” he tried to make his voice sound as tempting as possible. The semester was coming to a close and Asmo missed his boyfriend. It felt like he hadn’t seen him outside of the one class they had together and even then their only greeting was a quick kiss before running to the next place.

Sure they had coffee trips still, but both of them were too exhausted to usually say much and then classes interrupted any other time they might have.

Solomon sighed on the other end of the line. The soft tapping of his keyboard reached Asmo on the other end of the line. Was it another application or course work this time? Perhaps he was responding to another email from the staff at one of the schools he applied to. There were many options, and each one twisted a knot in his stomach.

“I can’t tonight. I’m overloaded right now. You know, assignments destined to kill me and all. If not the assignments, the applications.” Despite the chuckle tinting his voice, Asmo could hear how tired Solomon was. He could practically picture the piles of empty or lukewarm coffee cups surrounding him. It was a familiar sight, and one that Asmo would often see when trying to coax him to bed to relax and get some sleep. That was another thing Asmo had been missing: cuddling. The way Solomon’s arms would wrap around his waist, or when Asmo would commandeer Solomon’s chest as his own personal pillow.

Quality time was something Asmo desperately needed, especially before the next step came… And graduation was rapidly approaching.

“Well, we don’t have to see the movie!” Asmo’s voice was coming out quickly, and he hated it.

“Asmo-”

“We can go walk in the park-”

“I really ca-”

“Or we could go to our favorite cafe! The one off campus. Wouldn't it be-”

“Asmodeus.”

Asmo’s words died on his tongue. Solomon snapped at him. Solomon never snapped at him. Not once in the entire year they’d been together as a couple. When they were younger maybe, but not in their more recent history. It made Asmo sick to his stomach.

A small whimper left his throat and his fingers gripped his phone a little tighter.

“Fuck,” Asmo swore he heard Solomon slump back onto the couch, “Asmo, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Asmodeus I-”

“It’s fine,” Asmo was fighting back tears, “It’s fine really-”

“No. No it’s not I shouldn’t talk to you like that, sleep deprived or not. I know you Asmodeus, I know it’s not just fine,” Solomon finally let exhaustion overtake him, his voice was dripping with it, “And I really am sorry, I can’t hang out right now. I want to, I really really do. Honest.”

“It’s fine,” the words came out softer this time before silence stretched over the line.

Solomon was the first one to break it, “I love you and I miss you.”

“I love you too.” Asmo was just barely keeping himself together, and he had no doubt that Solomon knew this. Solomon knew him too well.

“I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can. I promise. I love you, so very much Asmodeus. Goodnight, I’ll see you in class tomorrow if I’m still alive.”

Asmo didn’t even crack a smile at Solomon’s attempt at a joke when he heard the familiar click signaling the end of their call.

They were seniors. They didn’t have much left. What was the next step?

At the news that Mammon could pull some strings to get Asmo some sort of job in the fashion world, he’d been elated. He’d talked about it days upon days on ends with Solomon, and Solomon had been so happy for him. Meanwhile Solomon had been pacing back and forth, waiting for some sort of response from a master’s program. He’d said he’d be happy getting into any school, lucky even, but Asmo knew him. Solomon had his favorite, his ambitious Solomon aimed for the stars and Asmo had no doubt in his mind that he’d end up right where he wanted to be.

But that scared him.

It made him feel terrible. He should be supportive of and happy for Solomon, yet something was holding him back. At this rate, they would only have the summer together, and that wasn’t enough time. The summer would fly by before Asmo knew it and then he’d maybe have to help Solomon move into some fancy dorm somewhere far away from him and his love.

At one point he’d been excited about the next step in his life, but now graduation just seemed like a looming storm overhead.

His mind was wandering and he couldn’t stop it.

He’d had breakups over less. Expecting Solomon to stay with him after they graduated was selfish, and yet he dared to hope for it. The best he could hope for was that Solomon asked for a break. Was it any better? No. But at least Asmo would have the illusion of hope. People broke up with Asmo over him deciding to dress down or for being too clingy. Then again, he knew he’d dated shallow people in the past and Solomon wasn’t shallow.

But it was still selfish for him to want what he did.

But a part of him didn’t care.

Asmo wasn’t stupid. He knew Solomon was the best he’d ever had. He was attentive, remembered when Asmo said little things, made him feel good in more ways than one, and was nothing short of wonderful. There was no way Asmo was going to let himself lose him and yet-

“He’s going to break up with me.”

“You don’t know that.”

One of the cats of the cafe rubbed against his side. Perhaps she could feel his sorrow. Asmo had just finished sobbing in his room before texting Satan. His pillow had become completely damp with tears and his eyes were red and puffy and looked as if they were made out of glass. Satan could keep his thoughts level and talk Asmo out of whatever negativity currently plagued his thoughts.

“But he hasn’t been spending time with me! Our normal hang out times have been completely run over!” Asmo sniffled, half-heartedly bringing his tea closer to his lips, “This is how breaking up normally starts.”

Satan shook his head, “You really think he went to all that work to get with you only to break up with you? Didn’t he get a tattoo to represent your relationship or something like that when the two of you had barely been dating for a month?”

“Three months. He wanted to get it a month in, but it took me three months to the day of our anniversary to finish the sketch.” Asmo’s fingertips lightly traced the rim of the cup, eyes fixed on his reflection inside. He’d wanted that tattoo to be perfect. So many scrapped ideas had flown around in his head before he was finally happy with one, that and he’d been nervous about Solomon getting a tattoo dedicated to them. They’d gone to every appointment together. Asmo said he wanted to make sure the art was good, what he meant was that he wanted to make sure Solomon didn’t change his mind.

Had it really all been for nothing?

Suddenly his phone buzzed.

💖Honey Dearest💖: Hey

💖Honey Dearest💖: Look I feel really bad

💖Honey Dearest💖: And I’m very sorry

💖Honey Dearest💖: Incredibly sorry

💖Honey Dearest💖: You deserve so much Asmo, and my time for you has been taken up by other things

💖Honey Dearest💖: But I’ll have free time this weekend and I can make reservations for us

💖Honey Dearest💖: I need to talk to you about something

💖Honey Dearest💖: Something that’s been on my mind

Asmo’s heart stopped. With shaking hands he shot up, startling the poor kitty next to him. He shoved his phone into Satan’s face, “See? See??? He wants to talk so he can let me down easy! Oh I’m going to lose him!”

“Asmo hush. You’re startling the cats,” Satan’s brow furrowed as he looked over the text messages, “He’s not saying anything about breaking up with you. It actually seems like he’s putting effort in to see you.”

“You don’t know that! I’ve been here before. I know this isn’t good I- I-”

Oh he was the definition of a mess right now.

“And you don’t know that he’s going to break up with you. You’re not the only one who’s dated people Asmo,” Satan pushed the phone back into his hands and went to pick the forgotten, luckily unspilled, cup up. “Send him a text and at least hear him out. I think you're reading too much into this.”

Asmo had drowned Satan out. He vaguely saw him go behind the counter to start remaking his drink again, but other than that Asmo didn’t process a thing.

Keeping Solomon was his main goal. He needed to figure out how to convince him that they were good for each other, that they could make this work. If he did leave him, Asmo knew that was it. He knew Solomon was the best he could get, and he wasn’t about to lose his chance at a happy future.

After texting Solomon an agreement to the meetup and deciding on a place, the rest of Asmo’s days leading up to the weekend were consumed with worry. In the end he’d made a list of reasons as to why they should stay together and how they could make everything work. If he was being honest with himself, he knew this list was more for him. He wanted to remember his reasons for when the time came. The last thing he wanted was to be left blubbering in public.

He’d made himself up nice. If Solomon was planning to break up with him, he wanted to assure he looked fine as hell and make him second guess the decision. It’d been a while since he’d done himself up this well, maybe he should do it more often. He used to do this all the time with partners because he wanted to make sure they loved him. But Solomon had loved him so matter what. He loved looking at Asmo first thing in the morning before he did himself up and when he was still in one of Solomon’s shirts.

Asmo had never felt this comfortable in a relationship before. He’d never felt so safe before.

…

He was going to miss that so much…

The feeling of being safe.

Being wanted.

Being adored.

Despite his worries, the whistle that left Solomon’s lips sent a blush to his cheeks.

“You really look nice.”

Solomon’s hair was slicked back the way Asmo liked it. Why did he also have to put effort into his appearance? Asmo felt even more anxious now, looking at him in the doorway. Solomon was the only one who’d ever made his heart flip like this. It had been impossible to calm himself all the way over to the restaurant.

Solomon had always been good at picking up when something was off, and Asmo had to wonder what he was thinking. Then again, even though Asmo was being uncharacteristically quiet, Solomon seemed uncharacteristically chatty. Asmo knew he could get that way about things he enjoyed, but this wasn’t one of those moments. Instead Solomon was tripping over his words as he discussed… nothing really. The sinking feeling in his stomach continued as they took their food and left once again to a little secluded place in the park. Solomon has suggested it, he mentioned that it might be best if they could be alone for a bit.

It didn’t make Asmo feel better.

Eating didn’t really seem possible. Instead, Asmo was pushing the food around inside his box. He’d take a bite eventually, as soon as he was sure it’d go down alright.

“I heard back from the program I applied to,” Solomon started, “I got in.”

“Oh? I’m so happy for you! Solomon that’s wonderful!” Asmo hoped his cheeriness didn’t sound forced.

Are you going to leave?

“Yeah! It’s a huge relief. One less thing I have to worry about.” Solomon went silent now. The inches between them felt like miles to Asmo. He should feel happier for him. His boyfriend’s dreams were coming true, he knew Solomon had wanted this program more than anything. Why couldn’t he be happy for him?

The soft shutting of Solomon’s to go box brought Asmo’s attention back. Their shoulders brushed and Solomon kept the contact.

“I’m happy I can have this with you,” he murmured, “I know I haven’t been around much this half of the semester, and I do mean it when I say I’m sorry about that. You deserve only good things Asmodeus. You do.”

Asmo stiffened.

“The past year has been nothing but amazing, you’ve been nothing but amazing.”

He was tripping over his words. He’d heard this phrasing before.

“I mean every moment I’ve known you has been a pleasure, but having you close like this, it’s been… wonderful.”

Now. He should say it now. Say how he’d give up an easy in to his dream and follow Solomon wherever he went if it meant they could stay together. The past year had been a dream and Asmo wasn’t ready to wake up and let go yet. He’d go to the ends of the world for Solomon, he’d give up his life for him. The future seemed so blank without Solomon, and Asmo was scared to enter it without him.

“So, what do you say Asmodeus Morningstar? Do you want to take the next step together?”

Wait.

What?

“Will you marry me?”

Asmo hadn’t realized his eyes were closed. Kneeling in front of him, with the most gorgeous ring Asmo had ever seen, was Solomon. He looked so hopeful yet nervous. There was only one thing Asmo knew, and that was that he wasn’t a pretty crier.

Through blurry eyes he watched as panic overtook his boyfriend as he scrambled to stand up, “Hey hey hey. It’s okay. We don’t have to-”

Asmo wanted to say something more, wanted to say something profound and loving to Solomon. Instead what came out was unintelligible blubbering for his boyfriend to decipher.

“What do I mean by that?” Solomon asked, “Well I don’t want to force you to marry me. I just thought it would be nice to ask before graduation, and I know I haven’t been able to see you and-”

As Asmo wiped the tears from his eyes, Solomon took in a breath and slowly let it out, “I love you, and even if I couldn’t see you I’ve had a lot of time to think about this.”

Asmo wrapped his arms around Solomon’s neck as he sniffled, and for the first time since their last talk on the phone he found himself smiling. This isn’t what he thought their proposal would look like at all. “I’d like to get married.”

“You would?”

“Yes,” looking into Solomon’s eyes and Asmo almost choked on his words again, “Yes.”

Kissing Solomon had always been a heavenly experience, but Asmo couldn’t help but laugh as his fiance left his lips to cover every inch of his skin in love. Asmo also didn’t miss the way his hands shook when he put that ring on his finger.

After all of his anxieties, this was definitely a breath of fresh air.

Although, he wouldn’t be telling Satan about how right he’d been.

***

“You suuuuure we can’t get a house?”

“Asmo we won’t be living there forever, we can rent out an apartment and then go house shopping.”

“Mmh, I still like the idea of having a house.”

Asmo sat in between his fiance’s legs, Solomon’s chin resting on his shoulder as the two of them looked over their options. There were a few nice places between Solomon’s grad school and where Asmo would have to drive for his new employer. He’d made sure Mammon knew where the school was so he had a radius to look at. Luckily, Mammon seemed to know a guy.

This whole situation had been lucky. Asmo wanted to follow Solomon so badly, talking on the phone or video chatting simply just wouldn’t be enough! Solomon’s only condition had been if Asmo could also pursue his dreams as well. No way was he going to let him not take an opportunity if something was offered to him!

But it worked out, it always did. It always would one way or another.

“One day we’ll get a nice house, make it all our own,” Solomon mouthed against his neck, “As soon as we get married.”

Giggles left Asmo’s mouth as Solomon’s mouthing turned into tiny butterfly kisses, “I’d like that. But now that you mention it, we never got to celebrate our engagement did we?”

Solomon paused and looked up at Asmo with a quirked brow. “Celebrate?” his arms tightened around Asmo’s waist, “What did you have in mind?”

Oh Asmo loved that wicked smirk.

“I wanna ceeelebraaate,” he giggled, leaning further into Solomon’s chest.

“I heard you, but that doesn’t tell me what you want.”

Asmo was about to go further when Simeon cleared his throat. He stared at the couple from the archway leading to the kitchen, “Mindful. Someone will be arriving home soon. Don’t make me banish you from the living room.”

“Ah, sorry Simeon, don’t worry, we’ll be mindful.”

“You better, I already have to think about looking for a new roommate because of you.”

The tone between them was playful, they’d become relatively good friends since Solomon started living there from what Asmo could see.

“I’m sure I could help,” Asmo chirped, “Maybe one of my brothers or someone else we know might be interested.”

“Thank you Asmodeus, I appreciate that. Now behave, both of you.”

When Simeon disappeared, Solomon leaned close to Asmo’s ear, “We’ll celebrate as soon as we move into the new apartment.”

“Oooh I like that! I guess that means we should pick one out then yes?”

“Oh my smart fiance is very incredibly right.”

Solomon leaned in for a kiss and Asmo gladly obliged.

While the future was still uncertain to a point, they had each other, and they’d be taking their next steps together.

#anon #request #anon request #WBT #obey me #ruewrites #obey me solomon #obey me asmodeus #obey me simeon #obey me satan #human!au #soloasmo #asmosolo #asmodeus x solomon #solodeus

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incorrect-homestuck-quotes-honk · 3 years

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To whoever asked for my au I love you but I tried to answer the ask three times and it didn't work :(.

BUT ANYWAY here it is!!

Dog city au!

Vriska's newly released from prison on charges of attempted murder via almost running aradia with her ex's car while drunk. aradia got out of it unscathed except for a fractured arm, she didn't want to press charges but her mother definitely did. upon vriska's release terezi is now her angry patrol officer. Which is a funny coincidence because they used to be friends in highschool before vriska dropped out. Shes still holding a grudge though since those days were less than pleasant. one wrong move and vriska goes straight back to jail

eridan is a successful news anchor despite not even applying for college. mostly because his father is the head of the news channel. karkat's been trying really hard to get a scholar ship because there's no way he'd afford it otherwise and he couldn't get it for having an average gpa. he'd stuck around his uncle's business establishment for a while but the pay wasn't enough to aid his plans of moving out from his parent's house. that is until eridan managed to get karkat a job as a camera man.

Karkat eventually got promoted to outdoor anchor after the last one broke his leg though awful fucktastic weather. The same awful weather he's going to have to deal with on a daily basis.

sollux couldn't go to college because he was in a psychward for his mental health, his brother's hospitalizion hit him pretty hard.

After he was let go he was advised to get a day job since he's got nothing going on and fuck being alone and having nothing to do. and he got a job as a children's party birthday clown, humiliating yes, but whatever. gamzee's an artist who works at an antique store and works part-time as a kid's facepainter because he loves it and thinks it's fun seeing kids happy and giddy. gam and Sollux both met at an elementary school's Easter party where they were hired and they hung out in the parking lot after it was over, with sollux complaining and Gamzee nodding with cake.

Aradia works with kurloz at funeral home! He's a mortician and she's the funeral director's assistant. They are besties. It's how she met feferi there accidentally when she was grieving to aradia about her aunt's passing under the false assumption that they were good friends when she was alive not knowing that aradia is just the funeral attendant. They got to know each other better over the course of the funeral arrangements and stayed pretty close friends.

Equius had to leave town to take care of his father because of an injury and he missed out on his SATs. They tried to reschedule the date so he can take the finals but shit just kept getting in the way. So he gave up and became a mechanic. Every other mechanic in the area would rip you off like hell so he got really good business because he of his reputation as blunt and honest despite his awkwardness.

Nepeta was vriska's friend back in jail on charges of vandalism and aggravated assault. She worked with equius after her release and she still sometimes bullies vriska in a not-so-friendly way.

Tavros is an elementary school teacher's assistant and gets bullied by tiny children with dave all the time.

Kanaya works at the antique store with gamzee. And she's always a bit pissy because of the blonde goth chic that keeps trying to bargain for miss Rosa's occult books despite her saying multiple times that they aren't for sale. Rose steals the books anyway and kanaya has to hunt her down like a wild animal through the city to get them back.

Jade works in an animal shelter that just so happens to be a front for the local mob. She doesn't care and wouldn't bat an eye as long as the dogs aren't hurt.

John is the most well-adjusted out of everyone and he actually goes to college and works a weekend job like a normal person. It's insane.

As for your other question!

Tavros and Gamzee used to be roommates. It was a small apartment before tavros moved out he decided to put all his yugioh merch in the bathroom because there wasn't anywhere else he could put it.and now that tav is in another apartment he just never came back for the yugioh stuff. Gamzee just has a yugioh bathroom forever now.

Whenever Sollux goes in he just bluescreens for 15 seconds from the sheer absurdity of the yugioh bathroom, he just blanks. It's why GZ thinks it's a good idea to let him go there whenever he's having a bitch fit.

The absolute violent waves of emotion the yugioh bathroom evokes in Sollux is like a factory resest.

It also has incense which is really nice.

#mod spade #not a quote #homestuck au

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jamielea81 · 4 years

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Just a Simple Lie

Chapter 9

Description: Having worked on small independent films for the better part of a decade, your friend tells you about an opening for a script supervisor with a large studio. Wanting to advance your career, you apply and get an interview. The only downside, they prefer to hire crew who are married. It’s just a simple lie, right?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, pining, fluff

A/N: This is NOT the final chapter. There is one more after this one. Per the usual: this fic is simply for fun. I know nothing about the personal lives of the two actors in this series and mean no harm. I am also totally guessing regarding the studio talk. Comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome.

Word Count: 3,932

Catch up with Chapter 8

“What’s going on with you?” Monica asked.

“Nothing.”

She’s asked you this question for the better part of a month. Not Yours only had a couple of weeks left to shoot, but filming had seemed to drag on despite it it’s short two month schedule.

“Are you still down about Travis?”

Okay, yes, you were still lying. Kind of. After the night of the wrap party where Chris Evans walked out of your life, you took the ring off and put it back into your jewelry box saying a prayer of sorry to your grandmother for wearing her ring. Surprisingly no one brought it or Travis up except for Monica. You kept it vague. Said he wasn’t right for you and the two of you were friends. All of which was true and she didn’t press. Except for when she asked what was wrong.

“Travis and I are friends. And I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine. You’ve just been down this whole shoot.”

“Have I not been getting the job done? Have I dropped the ball in anyway?” you asked, nose buried in your copy of the script.

“Duuuuude,” she said bumping you.

“Fine,” you tossed your script on to your desk and gave her your full attention. “I’m just tired. Honestly. Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Maybe your pregnant.”

“You’d have to be having sex to be pregnant, Monica.”

“Maybe you’re like three months pregnant and don’t know it,” she said with a smug grin. She was pulling your chain per the usual.

You gave her a smile that verged on a laugh. “You suck.”

“Maybe so. But you still love me,” she replied.

And you did. The two of you had become extremely close on this shoot. Probably because it was being completely shot on the lot with teenagers and people in their early twenties who liked to go out to clubs. Most of the crew were in their thirties so you stuck together. It was for the best. Look where being besties with Chris got you.

You tried. Honest to goodness tried. The morning after the wrap party you called him with your hands shaking the whole time only to be dumped in his voicemail. You texted him about twelve times that first week and didn’t receive a response. Two weeks later he responded.

Chris: Maybe it’s best we just don’t speak.

Getting that message shot a pain through your heart you didn’t think was possible. Twenty minutes later he messaged again.

Chris: I can’t be with someone who isn’t honest with me. Any type of relationship is built on communication and honesty.

He was right. While he was busy falling for you, you were pretending to be engaged.

Y/N: You’re right. It’s something I’ll always regret but I’ll accept your request. I won’t contact you again.

There was no use pouring your heart out to him again. You had already done so a few times in voicemails and text messages. If anything, you were mad at yourself. Mad for not telling him when the two of you had first gotten close. And again, when you were sick and staying in his rental. Or the numerous times the two of you hung out after filming was complete for the day. You were so ready to let him go after the wrap party until he told you he was crazy about you. Of course, you were crazy about him too, but you had locked that away.

“I’m just having a problem with a friend. I wasn’t honest about something and now we aren’t speaking,” you told her with a shrug.

“If they’re a good friend they’ll eventually come around.”

“I hope so.”

“She’s unbearable,” Ian said, running a hand through his hair making it stand on end. “Can you please just stay with us? Or maybe, um. Maybe you can convince her she’s not working enough?” You chuckled at your crazed friend. “The people at Sony must have professionals on staff that can manage her. I just... I just can’t anymore. Not to mention I haven’t put together any of the furniture in the nursery. Haven’t washed any of the clothing or bedding. There just isn’t time.”

He bent over the sink, hands resting on the polished stone on either side, breathing deeply. You clicked the pulse button on the blender giving it another minute to come together. Ian had come into the room with his mouth moving when you were in the middle of blending the pink concoction making you pause. You released the button, walking past Ian’s arched back to grab glass from the cupboard. Walking past him once more, you took off the cover and poured the fruit and spinach filled smoothie into the glass.

Joanna was on the couch, her legs reclined on the empty seats with her tablet in hand.

“Here you go my dear. I’m taking your hubby out for a beer.”

She rested the tablet on her large belly and smiled. “Thank you. He’s driving me up the wall.”

You kissed the top of her head. “I’ve got you.”

Travis and Gemma were seated at a four top sitting opposite of each other when you and Ian walked in.

“Oh look, Gem! It’s my lovely bride,” Travis nearly shouted as you took a seat next to him.

Flicking him on the arm, he flinched but kissed your cheek. “Are we ever getting over that?” you whined.

“Never,” he whispered.

“I still can’t believe you assholes never told me,” Gemma replied.

“Ye-ah. It wasn’t my most shining moment and I’d like to forget it. He’s all yours,” you tease, raising your eyebrows up and down.

“Been there. Done that,” she replied.

“Hey! I’m right here!” Travis interjected.

You put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer to you. “You’re so pretty.”

“Brat,” he replied.

“I just want a beer,” Ian said, his head resting on the table top.

Travis sprung out of his seat and made his way to the bar to grab Ian his beer because waiting for the server to arrive was just too many minutes wasted.

“So, you’re really done?” Gemma asked, mouth immediately going back to the straw in her glass. Some sort of mojito you thought.

“Mhm. It was for the best. The whole lying thing just was too much.”

During the last week of filming for Not Yours, you gave your notice. You kept it simple that you had some family things going on so you couldn’t commit for the next film. Barbara Floyd, the head of production told you that you had a standing offer there whenever you were ready. It was nice having steady income and influx of films being shot, but you couldn’t continue to work for an employer like that.

Travis returned with three pints, passing one to Ian and yourself.

“Thanks, Trav,” you grinned.

Ian chugged the glass of beer half way down before turning to look at Travis. “Yeah, thank you.” The server stopped by at that moment to check on the table. “One more please.” You chuckled softly causing Ian to look at you. “Anyone else?”

“No, we’re good,” you chuckled again.

“What’s next then?” Gemma continued.

“A low budget, independent. But it’s not a student film. I’ve officially retired from those.”

“Have you official retired from bartending?” Travis asked, knocking an elbow into your side.

“Probably not. It will be my go-to between jobs, probably until I retire.”

The drive to Studio City during rush hour was torture. But truly, it was always rush hour in LA. You really couldn’t complain as the film was being entirely shot in Los Angeles. As much as you did like to visit a new location, sometimes you just wanted your own bed.

With a few worthless honks and a hand gesture you would deny later, you found yourself parked and walking with Jonathan to the shared space amongst the production crew. Jonathan was executive producer and welcoming party for the cast and crew of currently titled, Untitled. Hopefully it would be named before filming wrapped. Being that it was an independent and rather short on funds from what you could tell, you were the sole script supervisor.

“And this is your desk!”

You gave Jonathan the politest smile you could muster. “Perfect.”

It really wasn’t. While your “office” in Vancouver was a cubical, it was modern and new. You didn’t even have walls. It was a small table about the width of two cookie sheets. Spaced on either side of you with about thee feet apart were two other tables for other production crew. At least you figured.

“Great. We are firing on all cylinders today with a table read this afternoon. We hope to start filming tomorrow,” Jonathan added.

“I’ll be ready.”

“That’s what I like to hear. I’m just down the hall if you need me. You have my number?”

“Yep. I should be set, but we’ll know more after the read through.”

Jonathan clapped his hands together, spun around and headed down the tight hallway, presumably to his own table. Maybe it was an office. An executive producer at the very least should have a cubical.

A large banquet table was set up in the middle of sound stage B with more than a dozen chairs for the cast around it. A row of chairs for the producers, the screen writer, director, assistant director, yourself, and a few others circled around the outside. You were a few minutes early per the usual, chatting with the small crew you had just been introduced to. You were getting aquatinted with Simone, the assistant director that was seated to your left when the cast started to trickle in. If you were being honest, you hadn’t looked in to any of the actors that were cast. You had taken on the job last minute when the previous script supervisor had backed out. It was less than a week to prepare, so you spent that time reading through the script a few times and rescuing Joanna and Ian from each other.

Simone had just given you a run down of all the films she had worked on as the two of you compared friends and colleagues in common when you felt someone lightly squeeze your knee. The offending knee groper walked on as your eyes trailed up to see Scott Evans make his way to a chair on the other side of the table. He sent you a wink and you audible gasped.

Fuck. This is going to be weird.

Really, it was only you that was being weird. Scott had squeezed your knee and gave you a friendly wink. But still. Had you known he was going to be in this film, you would have passed on the project. The last thing you wanted to do was make it awkward for him or his brother.

With the reading finished, you briefly addressed the actors letting them know where your desk was located and to come to you with any questions. When no one said anything, you gave a smile and quickly made your escape. Chris didn’t want to speak to you anymore. He made that perfectly clear. Keeping Scott at arms-length would be respecting that.

Scott didn’t film the first week of shooting. It helped ease your nervous stomach knowing you wouldn’t run into him on set or have to provide notes after a scene was shot. You knew he’d be filming the next week, but at least you had the weekend to freak out and hopefully you could just deal with it on Monday.

Cleaning up your table slash desk for the weekend took all but five seconds. Since it wasn’t an enclosed space, you left all personal items including Mr. Fern at home. He was blossoming much to your surprise.

“Hey Y/N.”

You knew that voice. There was no mistaking it. You looked up from your bag you were currently stuffing with your laptop to see Scott in front of you.

“Uh…”

Say something! Anything!

“Hey there Scott. How’s it goin’?”

Yep. You were talented at the art of speaking.

Scott chuckled softly, pulling up a chair from the empty table next to you. “Relax. I come in peace.” You took a shuddered breath. “I’m happy to see you on set. You come with high praise not only from my brother, but from other people you’ve worked with.”

“I doubt that. Your brother is not exactly my biggest fan.”

“I meant work wise sweetie. He can’t deny that.”

You shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, I didn’t know you were in this film. I took the job when someone dropped out. I’m not like stalking you or trying to get to your brother.” Your bottom lip going between your teeth as soon as you finished your thought.

Scott chuckled again. Shook his head and propped it between his hands, resting his elbows on your table. “You’re cute.”

“Well, I just…I just don’t want to give you the wrong impression is all.”

“You’re not. I never thought that,” he sighed, smile dropping for a second. “Chris is thick headed. I don’t even care if you repeat that. While I think it sucks you lied, I think it sucks that a company also operates like that,” he said.

“Well, maybe they were right.” Scott lifts an eyebrow at this. “What I mean is, Chris and me did get close. Too close.”

Scott sits up straight, hands going to his knees. “But that’s not always the case. Sometimes people are going to fall for each other whether it’s frowned up or not. Listen. My brother has been pretty grumpy for the last couple of months. I was frankly happy that filming started this week because I needed a break from him. He’ll come around. Don’t give up on this.”

You nodded and stood up from your seat. “Walk me out?”

“You got it.”

Despite what Scott had said, you weren’t too sure. Yes, you kissed him and boy, was that quite the kiss. But he didn’t know how you felt. You never got to say the words. And he made it perfectly clear that the two of you shouldn’t speak to each other.

After a month and a half of filming, you were officially on vacation. Well, not really. You just didn’t have another film lined up at the moment. Scott had been nothing but a peach during the shoot. He was as sweet as pie and kept you quite entertained. You weren’t quite sure if you were happy or disappointed that Chris never came to visit Scott on set. In all honesty, you probably would have shutdown and hid, so it was probably for the best that he didn’t. You didn’t pry, but Scott had offered up that Chris had been in Boston, so it made sense he wasn’t around.

You were back to bartending part time. It was something to do with your free time and it was nice to have extra cash in your pocket. Thankfully, you were a saver and lived in a one-bedroom rental, so you could afford to take a few months off.

In your free time you were with your friends. Joanna’s mood swings had subsided and Ian didn’t call you for backup as much as he had been. You didn’t necessarily think she had mood swings. She had a rough few months with bouts of sickness and her emotions were running high. But it was nice to be able to go to her house and have fun like you used to.

“Trav, could you pass me the popcorn?”

He shook his head no, holding the bowl against his chest. “You and Gem are just going to eat it all and not share. I know you two.”

“Wow... I am hurt.”

“No you’re not,” he chuckled.

“I promise to make more after we all finish this bowl.”

“No, you won’t,” Gemma whispered beside you.

You knocked her with your elbow and shushed her quietly. Travis stood and passed you the bowl.

“I’ll go make my own,” he muttered before walking to the kitchen.

You let out a loud laugh, taking a large handful of popcorn and shoving it in your mouth.

Jana laid on the couch across from you with her feet in Ian’s lap. He was rubbing them with a peaceful look on his face while Jana smiled at him. They were happy and that’s all you wanted. You hoped that someday you’d find your person.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table in front of you. Reaching for a napkin, you wiped the butter off your hands before picking it up.

Scott: Whatcha doin’?

Y/N: At my friend’s house. I work tonight.

Scott: That bites. You work all week?

Y/N: Tonight, tomorrow, and Friday. What are you up to?

Scott: Being lazy. Thinking about a solo dance party.

You smiled at his text.

Y/N: I could really go for one of those.

Y/N: Are you going to be in town for a while?

Scott: A couple of weeks at least.

Y/N: Want to grab lunch next week?

Scott: Sounds good angel. Let me know when.

Y/N: Will do. Have fun with your dance party.

Tuesdays were generally quiet, but people seemed to tip better. You weren’t sure if it was because patrons knew your tips would be few and far between or if the Tuesday crowd was just generous.

You had a tall can of energy drink behind the bar that you snuck sips from as the night went on. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but staying up until three in the morning on the nights you worked wasn’t easy. Making it to midnight was no problem, but after that, you were dead on your feet. It was only eight and you were already dragging. Grabbing the can, you brought it to your lips taking a pull.

“Those things will kill you.”

You put the can down and spun around to face the bar top. Your stomach dropped as you gripped the edge of the counter to keep yourself standing.

“Chris,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling his black ballcap low on his face.

“Uh, hi?”

What the fuck is he doing here?

“Can I get a beer?” he asked. You stared blankly at him as he took a seat in the stool directly in front of you. “Whatever IPA you have on tap.”

You couldn’t move. Chris was here and speaking to you as if this was an everyday occurrence.

“Sweetheart?”

“Uhhh. IPA?” you asked, somehow getting your voice back.

Chris nodded his head. He interlaced his fingers and rested his hands on the bar. You walked to the far side of the bar to give yourself a minute to breathe. It didn’t matter than there were two IPAs on tap two feet from where he sat, the taps on the far end is where you went. You filled the glass and gave yourself an extra ten seconds to calm down. This was Chris. Your friend Chris who you were crazy about and he was crazy about you. At least he once was. You on the other hand were still crazy about him. You could deal with him in your bar for fifteen minutes or however long it takes him to finish his drink.

You walked back the length of the bar, grabbing a coaster and setting both in front of him.

“What are you doing here, Chris?”

He took a quick sip, licking the foam from his lips before setting the glass back down. “Straight to the point. I can deal with that. Uh, Scott told me you worked here.”

Scott. You internally rolled your eyes.

“That’s why he asked about my work schedule yesterday.”

Chris cringed a little bit, shrugging both shoulders. “I asked him to. I should have just called you, but I wasn’t sure if you would have picked up for me.”

This time you actually rolled your eyes. “I would have taken your call. You’re the one that doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.” It came out way harsher than you meant it to. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” You shook your head, placing your elbows on the bar top and leaned in. “I thought about what I’d say if I saw you again and that wasn’t it. What I meant is I’m sorry. When you and I became friends, I should have told you what was going on, but I was scared. It seemed like such an innocent lie in the beginning but it kept getting bigger. I trusted you, but when it came down to it, I didn’t honor that trust and I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

Chris visible relaxed, his back hunching as he rested his forearms on the bar. “Sweetheart,” he started. “This isn’t all on you. I get why you didn’t want to tell me and while I wish you would have, I can’t hold that against you. I was hurt. Once we started hanging out, I started to fall for you even though I knew I shouldn’t. It was hard, so hard to hold back and respect the relationship I thought you had. So, it hurt when I found out it wasn’t real. But I shouldn’t have pushed you away that I had. I wish I hadn’t sent you that text message after ignoring you for weeks. So, what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry too. I’d like for us to be friends again.”

Friends. Not exactly what you hoped for, but you’d take Chris back in your life anyway you could get him.

“I would like that,” you said, offering him a small smile. “I’ll be right back.”

A couple had come in and taken a seat at table. You walked over, grabbing their drink orders before returning to the bar. It was probably the quickest margarita over ice and whiskey coke you’ve ever made, but you were walking on air at the moment. Chris wanted to be friends again.

Chris had apparently chugged his beer in the few minutes you were gone. You guessed he was just as nervous as you were about this conversation. “One more?” you asked, coming to stand in front of him again.

“Please.”

This time you went to the taps closest to him. You filled a new glass and stuck his old in the dishwasher.

“How long are you in town?” you asked.

“Just a couple of weeks. I actually wanted to talk to you about that.” You leaned on your forearms as you waited for him to continue. “I start shooting a new movie in a few months. I’m directing again.”

Your face lit up at his news. “That’s great Chris. Are you starring too?”

He took a sip from the glass and nodded his head. “I am. Which is the problem.” You crinkled your brow and quirked your mouth to the side. “See, if I’m directing, it’s kind of hard for me to give myself notes and keep me in line.”

“Yeah, you are a tough one to work with,” you sassed.

Chris smiled, letting his eyes go soft. “So, I need a good script supervisor. Any chance you know of one that doesn’t currently have a new film lined up?”

You smiled brightly before giving him an intense stare. “It’s not in Canada in the winter is it?”

“Nah. New England in the fall. What do you say, Y/N?”

You drummed your hands on the bar. “I’ll take it.”

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