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agustdakasuga · 1 year

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The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 3

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

As the car came to a stop, the passing university students stopped as well, staring at the luxurious sports car that just pulled up. Taehyung stepped out, removing his sunglasses and looking up at the campus.

“Who is that?”

“He’s so handsome!”

The girls fawned over him and even snapped pictures of him. But he couldn’t care less, they were not his focus now. He looked at his watch, mentally counting down the time. Just then, he spotted you walking out of the campus alone, right on time. He watched as your eyes widened in surprise upon spotting him and recognising him.

“W-What are you doing here?” You shrunk back, asking timidly.

“I’m here to take you to the law firm.” Taehyung stated with a friendly smile. He turned to walk back to his car and you stared at his receeding back, stunned for a few seconds.

“Hurry up.” He said. Finally, your brain connected with your legs and you ran forward to follow him. He opened the door for you to get into the passenger seat and you slid in quickly for him to close the door.

“Honestly, I thought it would take a lot more to get you into my car.” Taehyung chuckled as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Anything to get away from all the attention you created. So much for keeping a low profile.” You sighed with a shake of your head. Taehyung pursed his lips, not replying to your words.

“You didn’t need to come pick me up. I could have taken a bus or a cab.” You folded your arms. He just hummed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. After that, you didn’t attempt to make any contact or strike a conversation with him. You kept your gaze on the window.

RINGGGGG

“Hello?” Taehyung answered.

“Boss, there’s been an incident and we-”

“I thought I said that today’s my day off?” Taehyung replied, anger evident in his voice. He didn’t give the other person on the line a chance to reply before hanging up on them.

“Sorry about that!” He said to you. You just ignored him, eyes carefully shifting around the car. His phone sat in the cupholder beside his vape pen. You noticed a tarot card that was on the back of his phone.

‘The Hermit’

You didn’t know much about tarot cards or any fortune telling but for some reason, that card sent a shiver down your spine.

“We’re here.” Taehyung declared. You didn’t wait for him to open the door for you, getting out on his own when he was getting his stuff. You slung your bag over your shoulder and followed Taehyung into the building. He had his hands tucked into his pants pockets, continuing to hum to himself as he walked. You saw the 6 others there.

“Hey.” Namjoon greeted you. You stiffly bowed your head, not really wanting to have any niceties with them. An older male came out to greet all 8 of you, you guessed that it was the lawyer.

“All of you are here?” He asked, to which Namjoon nodded his head.

“Miss (y/l/n), it is a pleasure to meet you.” He did a full bow, shaking your hand respectfully. You awkwardly bowed back and shook his hand.

“Right this way.” The lawyer led all of you into the office. The 7 men made no moves, watching where you would sit before spreading themselves out on the rest of the available chairs.

“Here is my ID.” You handed your card to the lawyer, who verified your details. He handed it back to you after.

“Alright, this is the will right here. As stated and signed by Mr (y/f/n) (y/l/n), the house and 50% of his fortune is to be split amongst the 7 of you. The other 50% of his fortune as well as his CEO and owner position of Bangtan Enterprise and Exchange will go to his only child, Miss (y/n).” The lawyer read.

“Hang on. I know nothing about his business, why would he sign the rights over to me?” You asked. From the corner of your eye, you could tell the others in the room were just as shocked.

“Mr (y/l/n) did inform me that you might try to sign your inheritance away so he told me to give you this.” The lawyer slid something over to you.

“This...” Your eyes widened. Now, this handwriting, you recognised.

“(y/n) sshi?”

“C-Can we t-take a break?” You didn’t wait for them to reply, grasping the letter in your hand and running out of the room. You found a private toilet stall and entered. With shaky hands, you opened the letter.

‘My dear baby,

I’m sure this is confusing for you, having a letter from me, given to you with your father’s will. It probably also means that both your father and I are no longer around. You’ve been through a lot, baby. I’m sorry you have to deal with this all on your own. There’s so much I want to tell you, I wish I could have done it in person and not through this.

Baby, your father may shoulder all the blame for us splitting and him having to leave. But please understand that we agreed to separate for your safety.

Your father’s life isn’t easy and ultimately, he decided that it was best for him to leave. He didn’t want to see me worry over the fact that he may not return at the end of the day after work.

I know the two of us struggled and he could have reached out but he was just keeping his promise to me. I wanted you to have a normal childhood, to grow up like other children with no worry in the world.

You didn’t deserve to grow up, hidden from the world because we worried you may become a target. It wouldn’t be fair to you to live such a life you didn’t ask for.

The risk of him bringing danger with him also scared him. He couldn’t bear to risk being the reason you get hurt.

You’ve always asked me about him and I could never answer you properly, leading you to believe that he left us, that he abandoned you. I’m sorry I never had the proper answer, I never knew how to tell you. It was selfish and unfair to him to let you think he did something so cruel.

Now that you’re older, you can take over your father’s company. I believe that the 7 executives your father trained can guide you and protect you.

You can now live comfortably with no hardships, carry on your father’s legacy, his company that has been passed on to you. It’s time to stop worrying and to get out there. I’m sorry I’ve always held you back.

You don’t have to forgive him, you can be angry with me. But no matter what, I’ll always love you, baby. I don’t regret anything, I’m grateful you chose me to be your mother.

-Mom

The words soon became blurry as your tears obstructed your vision. This could very well be the last letter that your mother had written before she died. That also meant that she had met your father to give him this. You folded the letter and put it away, not wanting your tears to destroy it.

Everything from your mother is more precious to you than any amount of money. It was all you had left of her.

“(y/n) sshi, are you alright?” Namjoon was outside the bathroom, waiting for you.

“I’m fine.” You said shakily. Despite washing your face, your red eyes and nose gave away just how much you sobbed. You cleared your throat and Namjoon handed you a botle of water to drink.

“Thank you.” You opened the cap to take a sip.

“Do you want to continue with the lawyer? If not, we can call it a day and reschedule.” Namjoon offered.

“Rescheduling isn’t going to take away the fact that I feel like I have been lied to by everyone in my life. I don’t even know what to feel now.” You forcefully let out a bitter chuckle, clutching the letter in your hand.

“Is that letter from your mother?” Namjoon asked. You kept your head hung but nodded nonetheless. He didn’t say anything else, knowing that you needed time and space.

“I’m done. Let’s just get this over with.” You cleared your throat, walking back to the office.

“Sorry, let’s continue.” You slid back into your seat. The lawyer nodded, continuing to read the rest of the will. You now owned the primary rights to your father’s company and half of his fortune. The secondary rights to the company, the other half of his money and estate belonged to the 7 men. They were declared the new board of directors for the company.

“There is something else. But it is not here. We safe deposit boxes here and your father has one with artefacts from him and your mother inside.” The lawyer said as he finished reading the will.

“Okay.” You stood up. The lawyer led you to the basement of the building, where there were security guards guarding all the safety deposit boxes.

“This is it.” The lawyer gestured.

“Open it then.” You spoke.

“Unfortunately, Miss (y/n), I do not have the combination to open this box.” He bowed his head. You turned to the 7 that stood behind you but they also looked at each other in confusion, some shrugging.

“All he told me that you would know the combination because it is the date of his regret.” The lawyer said to you. You immediately knew what he was talking about. You chewed on your lip as you stepped forward, keying in a code.

BEEP BEEP

The lock released and you opened the box.

“What was the date?” Taehyung asked. But you heard a sound, like someone had hit him for asking because you could hear him wince right after.

“It’s the date he left my mom and I.” You replied, carefully retrieving the box and other items from inside the metal locker. You placed the box onto the table while the others helped you remove the other items inside the locker. Opening the box, you saw your parents’ wedding rings inside.

The other items that were not in the box was your parents’ wedding album and a copy of your baby book. There were many letters your mother had written to your father and photos she had sent him of you.

“C-Can I go home, please? I just n-need to go h-home.” You asked, fingers trailing over your mother’s face.

“Of course.” Jin said.

“I’ll take you back.” You didn’t protest when Taehyung escorted you to his car to send you home, you were too deep in thought.

“Thanks.” You piled everything in your hands carefully.

“Take this. I know you wouldn’t want to but if you need someone to talk to.” Taehyung placed a paper with his number on top of the stack of items you were carrying. You just looked at it, no expression on your face.

“Bye.” He said. You got out of the car, a distant look in your eyes. Taehyung watched entering your house and shut the door.

“It never gets easy.” Taehyung said, looking at your closed door. For some reason, he hesitated starting the engine again and driving back home.

But what could he do? You wouldn’t want him comforting you.

You put the things aside, it was too much to look at now. Both your brain and heart were hurting. As you went to your room, you passed by your mother’s room. Your hand rest on the door knob but you couldn’t bring yourself to open the door, as if there was a confrontation going to happen. Were you supposed to be feeling betrayed and/or lied to?

“I can’t do this.” You shut your eyes. With a heavy heart, your hand slipped from the door knob and you walked into your room.

“I spent my whole life hating him...” You knew they were both dead and nothing you did now would change anything but it still left a bitter taste in your mouth. There was a lot of guilt and regret clouding your mind.

Falling onto your bed, you drew your knees to your chest. You were at a lost of what to do now. The plan was just to move on, not be involved in the aftermath of your father’s life.

But this changed everything.

“So you knew that boss signed the company over to her? When were you going to tell us?” When Taehyung arrived home, he heard the slightly heated conversation that was going on between the others.

“Would telling you guys in advance change anything?” Namjoon sighed. He was at the center of the questions and outrage now.

“It at least gives us a heads up, Namjoon ah. This is why you wanted her to start being comfortable around us, isn’t it? Because sooner or later, she is going to be our boss.” Jin finally realised. He could never really be angry with Namjoon’s action, he trusted him wholeheartedly as the leader. Namjoon nodded his head.

“As the new boss, she could easily just dissolve the company. Everything we and boss worked so hard to build is in the hands of someone who has no knowledge about any of this.” Jungkook said.

“True. Not forgetting that she hates him.” Hoseok chimed in.

“Let’s see what she does, okay? That letter the lawyer gave her was from her mother. She’s going through a lot. Give her some space.” Taehyung spoke.

“Oh, Tae. We didn’t even notice you were back. How was she?” Jimin asked, taking a sip of his drink. Taehyung shrugged off his jacket and sat down beside Jimin on the couch.

“She’s going through a lot. She doesn’t hide her emotions well and you can tell, there is a look of betrayal in her eyes.” Taehyung stated.

“Namjoon hyung, you really don’t know what was in that letter?” Jungkook asked with suspicion.

“Of course not. That letter was written by her mother. I’m sure even boss didn’t know what was in that letter. He just passed it along to the lawyer, as per instructed by her.” Namjoon scoffed.

“Also, don’t forget. We’re the board of directors now, if she wants to dissolve the company, we can fight it.” He added.

As the impromptu meeting broke apart and the boys parted ways, Yoongi looked at all of them. They were so busy fussing over you that none of them actually had time to grieve over the death of their boss, who was practically a father figure to all of them.

Emotions were high and tension was starting to form. Yoongi knew the boys needed to mourn together, not drive each other away. With a desolated sigh, he refilled his whiskey glass and went to his room.

“Hyung, you okay?” Jungkook gently pushed open the door. Yoongi turned around, fingers retracting from the pristine white grand piano.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yoongi replied gruffly.

“You were awfully quiet downstairs, even more than usual. And you had that look on your face. That look when you know something bad is going to happen.” Jungkook said.

“That’s nonsense, Jungkook.” Yoongi shook his head, cracking a small smile. He took a swig of his whiskey, placing the glass back on top of the piano.

“Well, you usually prefer not to say anything just to do the whole ‘I told you so’ at the end.” He shrugged.

“I do like doing that, it’s fun. But this time, nothing bad is going to happen, Kook. Don’t worry. We’re gonna stick together, like we always do.” Yoongi turned back to his piano. Jungkook looked at the back of his older brother. Seeing that Yoongi was getting back to his piano, he pursed his lips before closing the door.

“I hope you’re right, hyung.” He sighed. He massaged his hands as he walked to his room. But he couldn’t rest or sit still. Instead, he got up and went to his fight club.

Maybe some sparring will help him release his pent up energy.

The moment the meeting ended, Jimin drove to his club, wanting to get away and be alone. When he appeared at his club, everyone inside stopped what they were doing to bow to him respectfully.

“Boss.” They all lined up. He did not acknowledge anyone, going straight to the bar. They snuck glances at him, wondering why he was here so early and what he was doing here. He had already said it was his day off and that no one should disturb him so they were not expecting him at all.

“We’re not opening tonight.” He declared as he selected the bottles he wanted. The staff around him looked at each other, unsure of what to do.

“B-But sir, the president’s son booked a booth and-”

“Did I stutter?” His tone was low and threatening.

“Of course not, boss. Understood, we won’t open.” The manager was the first to step forward, pushing the hostess behind him, a silent sign to not say another word to the boss.

“Get out. Don’t bother me.” He grabbed two bottles of hard alcohol, one whiskey and another dark rum. Without another word, he went upstairs to his usual area that overlooked the club. Not even VIPs were allowed in there.

“I drink to you, boss. No... Father.” Jimin poured the first glass, lifting it up then gulping it down in one go.

He watched as the manager was hurriedly getting the other staff out of the club, leaving only him. When Jimin says get out, he means it, everyone out. And no one wanted to incur the wrath of a Bangtan executive. Jimin owned this place, he could do whatever he wanted.

Who needs feelings and emotions when you could drown them out in alcohol? He didn’t care that he might lose this place if you dissolve the company, it was just a building.

He only feared that he might lose purpose. What was he supposed to do? Where was he supposed to go? This life was all he knew. Your father trained each other them to be a pillar of the company.

“You’re weak, Jimin ah. Letting an outsider dictate your fate.” He said to his reflection. Taking a cigarette out, he lit it with the lighter around his neck.

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dearly-somber · 3 months

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with a hop, skip and a—WAIT I’M NOT READY | m.jh

-> pairing. non-idol!myung jaehyun x f!reader

-> genre. Meet-cute, s2l

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 1171

-> warnings. None!

-> a/n. I’m a simple gal with simple weaknesses: a man with a pretty smile and golden retriever personality just happens to be one of them :]

-> bnd drabble, oneshot and series m.list!

-> started. Apr. 28th, 2024 @ 21:49

-> fin. Thurs., May 2nd, 2024 @ 08:57

-> edited. Wed., Jun. 5th, 2024 @ 23:00

-> divider credit. @saradika

You walk down the street with your friends’ arms hooked through your own and a large, satisfied smile on your face.

It’s been a long time since the three of you managed to get together like this in between all your studies and part-time jobs, so you can’t help the little skip in your step as you window-shop from the middle of the street, your bright pink Hello Kitty sweater pulled past your fingers and tucked neatly into a white skirt, your colorful sneakers making you smile anytime you look down.

“Let’s get boba,” Sandy suggests suddenly, tugging on your arm while leaning forward to look at Jamie.

She nods, easily agreeing as the three of you change direction to head to your favorite boba shop near the middle of the shopping district.

“Morning, ahjushi!”

“Ah, Y/Nie! It’s been too long since I saw your face!” Mr. Gu says with a familial, wrinkly smile that warms your chest. You’ve known Mr. Gu as long as you’ve been alive: before you and your friends started coming here, your mother came here while she was on maternity leave (with you, obviously).

“The usual?”

“You know it,” Jamie grins, giggling when Sandy looks at her judgmentally, gently shaking her head to hide her smile.

“Can’t take them anywhere,” you mutter with a smile, squeezing their arms between your own as Mr. Gu initiates a brief conversation about your studies.

“—waiting outside,” Jamie tells you aside, slipping outside with Sandy hot on her heels.

“Here you go,” the old man sighs, carefully handing you your boba: two in a two-cup cupholder and one wrapped in a cup-sleeve.

“Thank you, ahjushi. I’ll come again soon, okay?”

“Yes, yes, now go! Your friends are waiting for you.”

You smile as you turn around to join your friends, yelling and barely managing to save your drinks as you try and recover from the sudden ache in your shoulder from where it connected with someone else’s.

You look up with large, surprised eyes at—a puppy.

Well, not actually, but he might as well be with his round face, fluffy brown hair and bright boba eyes. His tie-die hoodie is wooly and soft-looking enough you have to suppress the urge to run your palm over the sleeves.

“Sorry,” he gasps, looking at you with concern swirling through the pretty amber speckles in his otherwise cocoa-irises.

“I’m—I’m fine, sorry—“

“No, it’s okay! Sorry for bumping into you.” He smiles sheepishly and you swear you feel your heart clawing itself out of your chest and into into his hands—

“You’re so—fine—!”

Fuck—

“I mean, like, sorrygoodbye—“

You turn on your heel and speed out of the shop, your whole body on fire. Practically running to your friends, you can’t help but squeal the second you’re within audible distance.

“What happened to you?” Sandy teases, laughing as she takes her boba from the cup holder, tossing the cardboard after Jamie’s taken hers.

“I just ran—literally ran—into probably the most handsome man on earth,” you laugh like a maniac, your hands subtly shaking.

Jamie snorts around her straw, already shaking her head as you launch into a detailed retelling of the events. “My heart was calling to him, I swear—he’s so cute—literally his sMILE Sandy, oh my gOD—“

“Did you get his number?” she asks, chewing on her boba.

“Wha—what? No! I literally ran away from him, San, do you know how weird he probably thinks I am?”

“Well, why don’t you ask him right now?” Jamie joins in, gently taking your hand and walking you back the way you came.

You scoff, taking a sip of your drink and fanning your face because you still feel hot and high on adrenaline. “He’s probably long gone—“

“Good luck!”

You yelp as Jamie pushes you with all her might, stumbling over your feet and, once again, just barely managing to save your drink from splashing all over the sidewalk.

You look up and stomp your foot with an indignant pout on your face, glaring at Jamie with murder on your mind. “You little—“

You frown confused at the bright eyed look on Sandy’s face, tilting your head at the way she aggressively shakes her head and points behind you.

Someone clears their throat.

Your shoulders raise anxiously as you turn around like the first-to-die from a horror movie.

“Hello again,” Puppy Boy says with a surprised, breathy laugh, his five friends surrounding him in a (rather intimidating) half-moon.

“Hi,” you breathe, looking anxiously over your shoulder where Jamie is waving her hands enthusiastically, mouthing at you to go! Say something!

“Uhm…” You clear your throat and gather your courage, trying hard not to squeeze your boba to the point it pops. Looking down at Puppy Boy’s plain white sneakers, you draw in a breath, not looking at him but rather looking somewhere over his shoulder.

“I—I actually… My friends were trying to get me to talk to you because I told them I think you have a nice smile and wanted to get your number but was too scared so they pushed me and now I’m standing here…embarrassing myself in front of you and all your friends—again—“ you force an awkward laugh, reaching up to twirl your earring as Sandy swears under her breath from somewhere behind you.

You sigh, looking up 100% ready to flee the situation based on the slightest ounce of disgust in Puppy Boy’s eyes, only to find him looking at you with (what you hope is) an endeared smile.

“Can you give me your phone?”

Your jaw falls open as he proceeds to take a step closer to you. It takes a hard kick to the back of your heel for you to snap out of your daze to actually do something, muttering an apology and reaching for your phone. You bite down on your lip when he nods appreciatively at your Stitch-blue phone case.

You sip at your boba, watching enamored as he types in a series of numbers and hurriedly trying to wipe the dumb look off your face when he hands your phone back to you.

As he’s pulling his phone from his back pocket, “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You bow your head ever so slightly, your eyes widening in surprise when your phone dings with a message from Myung Jaehyun🧋:

Hi!!! 👋🏻👋🏻

You grin at him, giving a short wave that makes him laugh.

“I’ll see you around?” he says hopefully, heart-stealing grin still pulling at the corners of his lips.

You nod dumbly, shy smile hurting your cheeks. “Definitely.”

He nods, ducking his head as he waves and mouths goodbye before being ushered away by his friends, their rambunctious laughter and brotherly smacks to his back capturing your attention all the way down the street…

Slowly, you turn to your friends.

“I don’t know how I pulled that off, but—”

Jamie laughs, wincing away as Sandy runs at you with an excited squeal.

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gwen-pierce · 2 months

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Buzz. Buzz. Buzz

Gwendolyn’s watch vibrated against her wrist as she pounded her feet against the treadmill. Glancing down at its face, she sighed at the name illuminating the screen. Twice in one week? Fuck. Muting the episode of Love Island she had on tv and lowering her speed down to a slow walk, she grabbed her phone out of the cupholder and answered the call on speaker.

“Hi, daddy.” She sang cheerfully, though slightly out of breath. Concern laced her father’s tone as he replied.

“Are you okay, sweetheart? You sound…unwell.”

“I’m fine. Just on the treadmill. What do I owe the pleasure?” Getting to the point, Gwen grabbed her towel from hanging off the handrail and patted at the sweat lining her brow.

“Brooke isn’t feeling well.” Gregory began and she had to bite her tongue from demanding to know what that had to do with her. Whatever it was, she knew it wasn’t going to be good. Especially if her father chose to take the time to call instead of text. There wasn’t going to be any way out of this one. “She was my plus one for the Alumni Board Silent Auction tonight.”

“And you want me to go with you?” Gwen nearly choked on the words as she spat them out, her vision starting to dance with stars. Anxiety, fear, and rage gripped at her throat and she choked on it. Unable to speak, unable to come up with any excuse why she couldn’t make the event. She shook her head, even though her father couldn’t see her. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. He had invited her and she was going. That was that.

“Well, you are an alumnus yourself, Gwendolyn, and you haven’t shown your face since graduation. People want to see you. You’re a huge part of the school’s history. You know the team hasn’t been to a championship since your captaincy?” Yes. She knew. It was him who didn’t know why. No one knew. When she didn’t respond, he continued. “I’ll have a car to pick you up at 5:30.”

-----

They were on their second lap of the room when Gwen felt his eyes on her. Even after nearly six years she recognized it instantly. The feeling of his eyes crawling all over her, making her skin prickle. The heat from it that sucked the air from her lungs, suffocating her. Her eyes darted around the room and she marked every exit, every escape, as Richard Hill made his way across the room and directly towards her.

“Gregory! And Gwen!” He called cheerfully as her old volleyball coach closed the gap between them and clapped her father on the shoulder. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? What a treat to have you join us!” Richard pulled her in for a hug and her body stiffened in his embrace. He lingered there and she knew what he was doing. Breathing in her shampoo. Gwen’s vision blurred and she had to blink a few times to clear the fog.

“I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do so I’ll leave you to it. I want to go get my bid for the Bora Bora trip, it’ll make Brooke feel better if I come home with a gift.” Gregory winked at Richard as if they shared some secret joke about the nuances of women while Gwen fought the urge to scream at her dad not to leave her. When she finally found her voice again, he was already gone.

“You really have grown up quite nicely, haven’t you, Gwendolyn?” Her old coach’s voice dropped to a purr, so quiet that no one in the hustle and bustle of the event would overhear as he moved closer to Gwen, his hand grazing over her hip in a way that any outsider would consider nonchalant and he used to the touch to guide them towards the outskirts of the crowd. She had no choice but to follow or risk making a scene.

“Haven’t you missed me?” His words whispered so close to her ear was like ice down her spine, his hand snaking from her waist over the curve of her backside. She went rigid, stopped walking entirely. Not this time. Not again. Never again. She wasn’t a little girl anymore and the power she thought Richard Hill had held over for so long was nothing but an illusion. Turning to face him, her gaze as hard as the steel walls his abuse had caused her to erect around herself, Gwen stared directly into his eyes.

“No.” She used his stunned silence at her defiance to make a break for it. As fast as she could without drawing too much attention to herself, Gwen half walked, half jogged to the closest exit, the one she had marked upon her initial arrival and fled down the stairwell. Her heart was thumping as loud her echoed footsteps but she didn’t stop until she had burst through the double doors into the lobby of the building. It wasn’t until she stopped to catch her breath that she realized she had started crying and she had no idea what to do next.

It could have been minutes, hours, seconds, or even days before she decided what to do next. With shaking hands, she pulled her phone from her purse. She opened her latest text thread and called the contact from there. They answered on the third ring. Gwen didn’t even say hello as her voice came out strangled and tearful. “Can you come pick me up?”

#[gwen: 002]#[tw: SA]

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feyhunter78 · 10 months

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Chapter Eight - You've escaped the restaurant with Miguel, and now you sit in a fast food parking lot discussing the night's events.

Ch 9

You sit in Miguel’s passenger seat, burger in hand, fries balanced between your thighs and your vanilla milkshake in the cupholder, and he loves it. Loves how domestic it feels, how you happily eat your food, visibly relaxing into the leather seat.

“So, how did you meet Kasey?” You ask him, fiddling with the air conditioning vent in front of you.

“You’ll hate me.” Miguel says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Never.” You say, smiling mischievously at him, intrigue emanating from you.

He knows you, knows you love hearing about any sort of drama as long as you’re not a part of it.

“One-night stand, she was hitting on my brother at first, then Mina stepped in, tried to fight her, so I convinced Kasey it would be better to ride me instead of a stretcher to the hospital.”

Your hand flies to your mouth. “You did not say that to her.”

He groans and gives you a guilty smile. “I did.”

“And she went home with you?”

Kasey is...spontaneous, an adrenaline junkie with an addictive personality and a desire to experience all life has to offer before she has to settle down. Which according to their last conversation would be soon. She’d just been promoted, a new position which would send her out to Vermont. She’d already bought a house, planned to move her dogs there, to reconnect with her sister, and nieces who lived only ten minutes down the road from her new place.

But for all her planning though she was still Kasey, she still wanted a few last moments of fun and Miguel was her favorite place to get them. “She’s obsessed with me.”

Your eyes are wide, shining with amused shock. “You literally said the words, ‘it would be better to ride me than a stretcher to the hospital,’ to her face?”

Miguel takes a calculated risk. “I think my exact words were, you’re a pretty girl and my sister-in-law can fight. So, why don’t we save you a trip to the hospital, and you ride my cock instead of a stretcher?”

Your scent changes, you shift in your seat, gorgeous thighs rubbing against each other. He basks in it, wants to go further, feel that save wave of arousal rolling off you that he did back in the restaurant when he called you a good girl.

“Yeah…maybe we don’t double-date anymore.” You say, dipping a fry in your milkshake, attempting to act entirely unfazed.

“Maybe not.” Miguel agrees. No need to double-date, soon Todd will be gone, Kasey will be gone, and it’ll just be us for all eternity.

He could sit here forever, music playing softly, the hum of the neon sign, your perfume filling the car, the cool night air weaving through the open windows.

After a while, you speak up. “Also, I’m sorry about Todd, he’s…” You trail off, staring at the night sky blankly.

“Kind of a dick?” Miguel fills in for you.

You snort, “yeah, kinda, but seriously he can be so nice sometimes.”

“Sometimes? Y/N he should always be nice to you, you’re amazing.” He wants to shake you, to tell you that Todd is the same as he’s always been, a cruel, selfish, and uncaring man.

It took everything in him to not lunge across the table and sink his fangs into Todd, to tear out his throat and leave him breathless and gurgling, blood staining that ridiculous outfit he wore.

You lean your head back against the headrest and Miguel admires the curve of your neck, how your hair falls back delicately, the steady beating of your pulse, the blood flowing through your veins. “I know…but I just…we’ve been together for a while now, and I always self-sabotage, so I never know if I’m making the flaws up in my head or not.”

“You’re not.” He says, taking a long drink of his own strawberry milkshake. He’ll be throwing it up later tonight, but it’s worth it.

You roll your head to look at him. “Really? How do you know?”

He shrugs, “I just do.”

You close your eyes and let out a long sigh. “I don’t know, I like him, and he doesn’t treat me terribly.”

“He thinks your job is worthless, and that your choices are made without thought, that much was clear.”

Your face scrunches up, eyes still closed. “He’s just so obsessed with money, and don’t get me wrong I want to be rich too, but not at the expense of living my life and doing things I actually enjoy.”

“A life without passions is not worth living.” He says, focusing on the horizon.

You’re quiet, he can hear your thoughts whirling around in your head, a jumbled mess of emotions threatening to tumble out and spill over.

“I just…” Your voice is strained, wobbly, and breaks in the middle.

Miguel glances over at you to see tears glistening as they slip down your cheeks. “Hey, hey, y/n, mi dulce, please don’t cry.” He reaches for your hand, capturing it between his own.

“I’m just so embarrassed, and mad, and tired and I…” You dissolve into sobs, your free hand covering your eyes, your body bending forward in the seat.

“No, no, don’t be embarrassed, why are you embarrassed?” He soothes, his thumb stroking the skin of your inner wrist.

“My fucking boyfriend asked your fuckbuddy for sex tips, and they didn’t even fucking work, but I know you’re good at sex because everyone raves about it, and now you know that I’m…”

Broken? A freak? Stuck laying under a guy who treats me like an object, makes me feel worthless?

Your thoughts are pouring into him, a rushing waterfall of doubt and insecurity.

He can’t sit by anymore, he releases your hand and cups your face, lifting it, so your eyes meet his. “Y/N, I know nothing except what you wish to tell me, I am not judging you, I am judging him, but not you, never you. You are—you deserve so much more than him, and I’m sorry if you feel like I’m overstepping, but I have to say something. You are a good person y/n, sweet, smart, funny, beautiful, dedicated, passionate, caring, and he—he is a wet chihuahua barking because he has nothing better to do.”

He can feel your internal battle, how desperately you want to believe him, how frightened you are of leaving Todd, because what if Miguel doesn’t feel the same as you? He knows you fear risking everything for a chance at nothing. So, he pulls back, you have to make this jump on your own, no matter how badly he wants to carry you.

“As your friend, I would be doing you a disservice by not telling you the truth.” He feels the pang in your heart echoing in his.

Friend, just friends.

You nod, tears slowly drying. “Yeah, you’re right, thank you. It means a lot to me that you care so much.”

He brushes back a lock of your hair, admiring you in the glow of the streetlights. “No tienes idea de lo fácil que es amarte. Essentially, you make it very easy to care about you.” Trsl: You have no idea how easy it is to love you.

You smile at him, and your smile is like the sun blooming over the horizon, like his first breath of air after clawing out of his grave, it is you, you, you, you. “You’re so sweet, thank you.”

“You are easy to be sweet to.” He says, fighting the impulse to lean forward and connect your lips.

You bite back a laugh. “A wet chihuahua?”

He chuckles, caressing your face once more before forcing himself to let go. “It seemed an apt comparison, he’s so small compared to me.”

“Everyone is small compared to you, you’re a giant.”

There you are, his girl, smiling and teasing him, the light returning to your eyes. “I am not.”

“You are! Have you seen yourself? I swear your biceps are bigger than my head. And you’re so broad? Tell me right now, be honest, are you taking steroids?” He busts out laughing and you slap his shoulder. “Miguel, I’m serious, that can’t be natural.”

“I’m not taking steroids; I have good genetics and I work out regularly.” He explains. “It’s all about your diet.”

And I’m an immortal being with enhanced abilities, and physicality.

“Todd will never believe that he swears up and down that steroids are the only way to get really buff.”

“Does he want to gain muscle?” Todd wasn’t weak looking per se, but Miguel wouldn’t say he was “buff.”

You look down at your hands, mumbling. “I like guys with muscles.”

“What was that, dulce? I couldn’t hear you.” Miguel prods. His enhanced hearing of course caught your words, but he wants to hear you say it again.

You scrunch up your nose. “I like guys with muscles okay, I’m a bicep girl, I like having something to hold onto.”

“You like what you like.” Miguel flexes, casually reaching to turn down the music, but he can feel your eyes following his every movement.

“Yeah…but Todd says his ‘genetic makeup isn’t built for bulking’ so I guess that’s that.” You say, a hint of longing in your tone, when he reaches behind his seat to stretch out his shoulders.

Miguel wants to pounce. To take you in the backseat of his car and show you what his strength can do, let you sink your teeth into his biceps, scratch your nails down his back and shoulders, mark him, claim him.

“I hope he sleeps with Kasey.” Your words rip him from his thoughts.

TL: @obi-mom-kenobi, @poutysprouty, @oharasfilipinawife, @laysmt, @cicithemess, @unabashedcroissanttreefan, @lynxslokley, @thedevax, @generalkenobitrash, @keiva1000

#meg's writing #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #morgue miguel #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #vampire!miguel #vamp!au #vampire!miguel o'hara #vampire!au

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years

Note

Idk if this fits bit V reminds me of that one meme from the movie (I think) Spree that’s like the scene where the main guy is driving with the girl (or smth I never watched the actual movie-) and it’s like

“I’m taking you home!”

“This is not the way to my fucking house??!!”

“Ohh no not your home, my home.” :)

Holy fuck- V is literally an edgier Kurt- (implied drugging)

Going along with streamer reader: You're an up and coming streamer that just attended your first convention and you gave a powerful speech about community and supporting those around you. Your words are so impactful they move members of the crowd to tears - and prevent an attempt on your life by a deranged fan.

Leaving the con you hop in the Rideshare car with the license plate matching the one on your phone, not even bothering to check who's in the driver's seat. The event has you exhausted, but a quiet voice from the front wakes you as you doze off.

"Hey...."

You stir against the cushion.

"I liked what you said up there...."

Wiping drool from the corner of your mouth, you smile at the main from the overhead mirror. "You were at the convention?"

"Yeah... you were inspirational. There's a water bottle in the cupholder if you're thirst."

Your mouth did feel dry. You locate the mentioned bottle and drink something of the water as he continues.

"You're a genius. The things you were saying were in my head, but I hadn't thought them yet. When I came out here today, I planned to do something I would've regretted for how you treated me, but now I see how you really feel about your fans. About me."

The dryness in the back of your mouth prevails. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"It's me- V. Y'know, the guy you gave that nickname too because my name was too long, but your mods banned me when I kept asking for your address?"

You peak out the window. This isn't the way he should be going. "I'm...sorry about that. Usually they message me before they do anything."

"It's okay now, Y/n. I hated you and those uptight bastards for the better part of a year, but that's all because I was jealous. They took you away from me, and you didn't even notice then, but I realize now that you always knew that I was still there. You love me. Your biggest fan."

You try to unlock the door. Your fingers fail to properly grip the knob. "What's.. going on?"

"Love. That's what's going on and all I'm about now, babe. Oh, man- we're gonna have so much fun together when you wake up. You prefer Chinese food or Greek?"

#V my oc #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere blurb #male yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #Streamer reader #yandere drabble #yandere x y/n

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lydskisses · 3 months

Text

🌟 EVENT PROXY - Genshin Impact Lyney & Lynette x KFC Collab 🌟

ETA: September - October 2024

Payment Deadline: While Stocks Last

➡️ All prices are in Singapore dollar. Mailing to you will be calculated separately when the items arrive. PayPal and Wise are accepted for international buyers.

DM for prices. Prices may vary depending on market value.

Set 1 -

Can Badge (2pc) Set, Bromide, Paper Cupholder

Set 2 -

Acrylic Ticket (2-pc) Set

Sets will not include the food packaging. If you’re looking for those let me know, I can source for them (minus the round chicken bucket cos it’ll be hard to mail).

#genshin #genshinimpact #mihoyo #hoyoverse #kfc #genshinkfc #lyney #genshinlyney #genshinlynette #原神

#genshin #Genshin impact #genshin merch #genshin kfc #Mihoyo #hoyoverse #genshin lyney #genshin lynette #原神

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spacesapphi · 14 days

Text

"Moving Forward, Spiraling Downard Ch3- Try to Remember Them"

Good news, I was off work today which meant I could finish the chapter! Bad news, I was off because I had a fever </3 (if there are any spelling mistakes I will make sure to fix them in time LOL)

Summary: Now that Jas is getting old enough to have questions about her family, Shane decides to show her some old photos and films from years back. While the night starts off well enough, Shane will find he can't help but slip deeper into a bad habit that's been building for some time

TW for alcohol usage at the end of the chapter

AO3 Version here !

Tumblr Version below the cut! :

The conversation had started much earlier that day with Shane driving Jas home from preschool. Snow was starting to fall, decorations for the upcoming Winter Star celebrations decked all over the streets in the city. Shane was blasting some old 80's dad rock (the censored versions, for Jas' sake), mumbling along the lyrics, sipping from a cola in the cupholder. This ride home was one of the most peaceful events in their daily routine, and he loved it.

And while the thought of driving still made him anxious, even after all these years, he still found himself enjoying it. He'd not have to worry about work for the night, and Jas always had some entertaining stories to tell from school that day. Ever since the girl learned how to talk, she'd chatter on a mile a minute, having a surprisingly rich vocabulary for a nearly 4-year-old. She was so smart too, getting heaps of praise from her teachers every time he went to pick her up. He was so proud of her, and he knew his friends would've been too.

So when Jas got in the car that afternoon, quiet as a mouse, Shane instantly got the feeling something was off. By now she was usually already halfway through her first tale of the day, but not today. All she did was stare down at a little paper in her hands, not looking up or making a noise even once the entire ride. Shane kept checking the rearview mirror every chance he could, feeling his nervousness grow. Did something happen today? Was something in classes making her upset? Every possibility ran through his head.... Well, every possibility except for what was actually happening.

In her hands, Jas held an art project the kids were tasked with today. They'd been asked to draw their families, and she was so excited to work on it. She, ever the artist, was so proud of her piece. It was simple, just her, her Uncle Shane, and Aendi Marnie all standing together in a little field. She put so much effort into it, so much time and love! But when she proudly showed it to one of her friends, all they said was:

"Where's your mommy and daddy?"

And Jas didn't know how to answer that. Well… Uncle Shane was her dad… right? Her teacher said a dad takes care of you and loves you, and that's what he did. He did everything a dad was supposed to do. But that answer didn't exactly feel right. If he was her dad, where was her mom? And if he wasn’t , then where were either of her parents? Staring at the page in her hands, she couldn't help but wonder that something was missing from this story. Something was being left out, and she was going to find out what that was.

"Jas.... Jas.... Jassy .... Jasmyne Rose Anderson ."

The little girl's head finally shot up; eyes wide. Uncle Shane never used her full name unless she was in trouble. He didn't seem upset though, like the time she was running around the apartment and knocked over a table, shattering a special trophy of his. He seemed... Worried.

"You alright, chickadee?" He asked, brows furrowed, "Nothing happened at school today, did it?"

"No...."

"Then what's up? Usually you're a little chatterbox back there." He laughed a bit. Jas looked back down at her paper, and back to him, "Can I ask a question?"

"Anything, kiddo."

"Are you my dad?"

Shane hit the brakes a little harder than he intended to at the stoplight, causing Jas to yelp in surprise. Shiiit, he was not prepared for this conversation. He knew she'd have questions soon enough. It was inevitable. But no amount of preparation made him feel ready for this moment, especially while driving . Gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter, he regained his composure just enough to answer her question.

"No, Jas, I'm not." His tone was solemn and soft, "I'm your uncle, remember? Uncle Shane?"

"Yeah but..." Jas furrowed her brow, "You act like a dad. And teacher says everyone has one."

"I know, I know... But there's different kinds of families, Jas. Not everyone has them, and that's okay! It's just different," he tried to explain, tsk-ing softly, "You... You did have them though, a mom and a dad, but-"

He was tripping on his words, not sure how to get this across in a way she could understand. She was so little still, and he had to handle this the right way now so he didn't have to deal with repercussions later. Jas didn't seem satisfied with the answer so far, still looking incredibly confused and lost.

"Where are they?" She asked, tilting her head to the side, "Are they coming back?"

"Yoba-dammit I can't do this." Shane thought to himself, hands still holding tight onto the steering wheel. This was such a bad time, the worst time for this kind of question. But he couldn’t just ignore it. He prayed that they would be home soon enough.

"No... They aren't. They're-" he stopped for just a moment, taking in a sharp breath. He tried to break it in the softest way he could, "They're dead, Jassy..."

"...Why?"

"I don't know, I wish I had the answer," Shane muttered, "Sometimes sad things happen and we just... Don't know why."

"Oh..." The girl's voice trailed off, "Okay..."

The air in the car was tense, Shane entirely certain he didn't handle that with the grace he needed to. He really should've thought this out ahead of time, made a plan to talk to her about this. He just thought he had more time. He kept looking back at her through the rearview mirror, worried about how she was taking it. Seeing a mostly neutral expression was... odd, concerning even. He really thought she'd be more upset at this.

"If you have any feelings about it, it's okay..." He assured, "If you feel sad or angry, I get it. I feel that way about it."

"I don't know," Jas shrugged, "I don't think I'm sad."

"Really? You don't miss them at all, anything?"

"I don't know 'em."

That realization hit Shane like a ton of bricks. He hadn't thought about that, that Jas would have been far too young to have memories of them. It made sense, she was barely even a year old at the time, but it still hurt to know. He thought back to his mom, about how few memories he had of her. Everytime he tried to think of her he could only picture Marnie in her place. He didn't remember what her voice sounded like either. It was all a blur to him. Was that what was happening with Jas? He didn't want her to grow up with no knowledge of Jason and Amelia, no memory of their faces or voices. He wanted her to have at least something. That's when he remembered a special box of mementos he kept up high in the closet, full of memories from back in their college days.

A small smile appeared on his face, "I think I know somethin' that will help you remember them."

"What is it?"

"You'll just have to wait till we're home to see!"

Back to the present, the two were sitting on the couch, dressed in their pajamas as they ate dinner and looked through memories. Multiple binders of old photos and memorabilia were laid out on the floor, open to some of the happiest snapshots of Shane and his friends' lives. Trips they went on, mundane little moments in their dorms or apartment, and all the memories that made life so enjoyable.

The TV was blasting, playing old reels the three of them made for their film class years ago. They were absolutely cheesy, and maybe even a bit cringy, Shane knew that much. But the three of them absolutely loved campy, low budget movies, so that was just fine with them. What was important was that the class had brought them all together and gave them some of their best memories.

As the last short film, a live action interpretation of Journey of the Prairie King, ended, Shane slipped yet another VHS into the player and sat back on the couch, giving Jas a grin, “This one’s funny, it’s all the takes we couldn’t use!”

“Why?”

“Oh you’ll see!” Shane laughed. The TV flickered to life, a little clapboard right in front of the camera.

“Okay this is… Yoba help me, this is take seventeen for the JojaMart commercial project.” a tired voice called out, “Let’s take this one seriously, guys, I’d like to be doing anything else.”

The board was removed, revealing Shane and Jason sitting at a table, dressed in fancy suits in front of a plain backdrop. Shane looked like he was using all of his effort to not start laughing, a devious look on Jason’s face. He had been purposefully going off script for an hour now to try and get Shane to break character and laugh and had succeeded every single time. Jason gave Amelia a cheesy grin, letting her know he was up to no good yet again, and leaned forward, starting his practiced spiel, “Join us and thrive! That’s our motto at JojaFart-”

Shane immediately burst into giggles, punching Jason playfully in the shoulder, “Screw you man, that one wasn’t even funny !”

“You’re laughing though!”

“Because it was stupid !”

“Still laughed!”

The two cackled on, Amelia’s voice from behind the camera being heard, “Can you two take anything seriously?” her voice warbled a bit, obviously trying to hold back her own laugh. Jason’s jokes were always corny and she was growing frustrated at how many takes they were at, but seeing those two laughing and carrying on never failed to get her to join in.

“Now you got her laughin’!” Shane motioned towards the camera, “The ice queen finally melts, huh?”

“Oh stop !” Amelia scolded playfully, “You two are so lucky I tolerate you.” she joked.

“C’mon you loooove me,” Jason batted his eyes exaggeratedly at her, feigning innocence. Amelia sighed wistfully, “I’d love you more if you did a serious take for once!”

“Okay, okay… I’ll do one serious take. I promise,”

“Thank you, honey,”

“Did he do it?” Jas questioned. Shane laughed and shook his head, “Oh no, we had to do ten more after that. Your mom was sooo mad, we never took anything seriously.”

The reel switched over to another scene. Jason was in a bandit costume, standing further away in the background, facing away from the camera. Amelia was dressed in a cheap western costume, adjusting her gloves as she waited for her cue. She caught a glimpse of Shane’s face, and gave him a suspicious look, “Oh you two did something stupid, didn’t you?”

“No! You worry too much, Ams,” It couldn’t be seen on the reel, but Shane had the biggest smirk sitting on his face.

Of course the two planned something, when did they not? Jason was the king of pulling pranks during their film sessions, much to Amelia’s chagrin. She was always the more serious one in their relationship. While Jason was off having fun with gridball and his classes, she was working herself to the bone trying to get her degree. And while that dedication was something both Jason and Shane admired, they knew she needed the chance to unwind and laugh every once in a while.

“Let’s get rollin’, you ready back there, Jay?” he called out, simply getting a thumbs up from his friend. Shane gave Amelia a nod, letting her know her cue was about to start. She nodded in return, holding up her prop rifle and pointing it towards Jason.

“I’ve got you right where I want you! Nowhere to turn!” Amelia sounded so believable, like she was made for the stage, “Turn around with your hands up!”

“Did you get me?” Jason started, forcing his voice into a deep southern drawl, “Or did I get you?” he turned around quickly, brandishing his own prop weapon… Or what was supposed to be his prop weapon. It looked cartoony, nothing like what they initially planned on. Amelia looked towards Shane, a confused look on her face, “Where the hell is his normal-”

She yelped as a shot of water hit her in the face, Jason laughing maniacally as he brandished his water gun high in the air, running towards the camera and shooting it all the while. Amelia ran offscreen, laughing herself as she tried to escape him.

“You ass , you two planned this didn’t you!” she laughed, covering her head.

“There’s another one on the table for you, Ams!”

Jason stopped in his tracks, giving an expression of mocked betrayal towards Shane, “That’s not fair, that wasn’t part of the plan!”

“Oh you deserve it!” Shane scoffed, pulling out his own and waving it in the air, “Better start runnin’,”

Jason ran off far into the background, followed close behind by Shane and Amelia, both holding their own water guns as they barreled towards him. The king of pranks was getting usurped by his primary targets, and he found it hilarious. The further away they got, the more the echo of their laughs boomed. The film session had devolved into absolute chaos, as it often did. Amelia couldn’t even pretend to be upset about it, having far too much fun with her two favorite people in the world to care about the take.

The next few scenes had both Shane and Jas in stitches. Between normal bloopers, or another elaborate scheme Jason cooked up to mess around during the shot, the two were in hysterics. And even though Shane and Amelia (mostly Amelia) could look annoyed with the stunts, they truly did enjoy it. Messing around like that was Jason’s love language, and it was how he showed he cared about them. Making those two laugh was one of his favorite things in the world, and it was so obvious with each and every outtake.

Even though he was laughing now, part of this made Shane’s heart break. Knowing he’d never get to do this again, never get to mess around with his best friends and get up to all sorts of trouble, it just made him miss it even more. He’d never get to hear Jason’s jokes, or Amelia’s laughing and playful scolding of the both of them ever again. He wasn’t religious anymore, not by any means, but for the moment he just let himself believe the two of them could be in a better place, a safe place. There, Jason was still running around and causing mayhem, Amelia being her sweet and loving self. And maybe, someday far in the future when he too was gone, he could see them again and get right back to their chaos. The thought put him at just a bit of ease, and for a moment he understood why so many people were religious in the first place.

Jas was absolutely loving the tapes, every second of them. Seeing just how fun and goofy the three of them were back in the day made her miss something she never even had. She could imagine herself playing pranks with her dad, getting up to no good together, and having fun. She could see herself with her mom, reading stories together and dressing up. They seemed so nice, so fun, and she wished so much that she could’ve known them. Having Uncle Shane and Aendi was great, and she loved them both, but knowing that she could’ve had them too just made her wish the circumstances were different. It was a difficult notion to grasp for someone her age, and she didn’t yet understand all the feelings she had about it. Maybe it was too complicated to understand for a long while. But in the moment, all she could do was laugh at the memories of what once was.

The last video on the tape began to play, a clapboard reading “Knights Promise” sitting in front of the screen. A look of recognition appeared on Shane’s face, “You’re gonna love this one, Jas,” he whispered.

The scene finally came into view. The camera was laid out to look upon a rocky shore. Amelia stood and waited in the background, dressed in a flowing gown and a fake tiara. Coily, purple hair was pulled back into a thick braid, tossed over her shoulder. Jas stared on with excitement in her eyes, “She’s a princess…” she whispered, voice filled with awe. A quiet conversation between Jason and Shane could be heard happening just behind the camera.

“I can’t do it, man, I’m nervous.”

“Jason, I swear to Yoba I’ve been helping you plan this for a month , if you don’t do it today, so help me- ”

“Alright! I’ll do it…”

“You got this, Jay.”

Jason emerged in front of the camera, dressed in some cheap knight costume. Amelia turned to look at him, putting her hands on her hips and giving him a mildly exasperated look, “Finally! We’re losing daylight, let’s get this scene done.”

“I know, I know, I just had to get somethin’ ready,” Jason stood in front of her, looking deep into Amelia’s eyes, “Yoba, you’re so pretty…”

“We’re rollin’!” Shane called out, giving them a thumbs up. The pair got into position, stepping up carefully onto the slippery rocks near the shore’s edge. They got themselves in character, preparing to film the finale scene for the film.

Jason took Amelia’s hand, the two looking at each other with longing, “I’ve been waiting for you, all this time…” she whispered, leaning in close. Jason cupped her cheek with one hand, wrapping another around her waist, “I needed to fulfill my promise, to my people... But now, I’ll fulfill mine to you.”

He pulled away from her grasp, fumbling for something in his pocket. Amelia frowned and whispered, “Jay, this isn’t in the script, what are you doing?” He gave her a big, toothy grin, “Something I’ve been waiting to do for a long time.”

Getting down carefully onto one knee, he pulled a little box from his pocket. Opening it, a glimmer of light hit the ring inside, making it sparkle in front of the camera. Jason smiled softly up towards his girlfriend, “Amelia May, will you-”

Amelia immediately clapped her hands to her mouth, eyes wide in excitement, “No way!” she exclaimed, in complete disbelief. Jason’s face fell, looking like a kicked puppy for just a moment, lowering down the ring box. He didn’t expect her to say no, especially that fast.

“No no, I meant yes!” Amelia laughed, kneeling down with him, “I will! I will marry you! I just didn’t expect that!”

“Really?!” Jason’s smile returned, eyes scrunching at the corners. Amelia nodded fast, happy tears biting at the corners of her eyes. She pulled him in close by the face, smashing her lips into his. He held her tight, the two laughing softly and exchanging little “I love you's” back and forth. The sun was setting behind him, the golden hour for filming this scene quickly passing, but the two of them didn’t care. You could see in their faces just how much they were enthralled in this moment. The take could wait, this moment needed to be savored.

“Hell yeaaah !” Shane screeched from behind the camera, knocking it over in the sand as he ran to them. Even with the device on its side, you could still make out him tackling them in a hug, the trio laughing and chattering away in their excitement. A low beep could be heard, the battery running low on the camera. Moments later, the feed cut out, leaving the screen dark.

Jas smiled wide, feeling so happy seeing just how in love they were. It reminded her of all those princess movies she loved so much, with those happy fairytale wedding endings. She looked up to see Shane sniffling, wiping his face with his shirt sleeve, “Are you said’?” she asked.

“No, no…” he sniffed, giving her a smile, “It was really nice seeing that again.”

“Can we watch more?” Jas asked, clasping her hands together, “Pleaaaase?”

“I don’t know, it’s too close to bedtime, kid,”

“ Pleaasee! ” Jas gave him a pouty expression, one that always seemed to get him to reconsider. But tonight was different. Shane stood firm in his decision and shook his head, “You know we have to leave early tomorrow to go to aendi’s.”

“Whyyyyy,” Jas complained, throwing her head back dramatically.

“Because she wants us over for Winter Star, and I know you’re excited for that,” Shane explained, standing and motioning for Jas to follow, “Come on, we’ll watch more later.”

“Promise?”

“I promise .”

Reluctantly, Jas slipped off the couch, making her way towards her bed that sat against the wall. Piled high with stuffed animals, and decorated with fancy pillows and blankets, a “canopy” hanging above it (made from pink curtains and fairylights Shane had merely thumb-tacked into the ceiling). It wasn’t much, but Jas insisted it made her feel just like a princess. Shuffling under the covers, she made one last pout, trying to make Shane feel bad for the crime of being a responsible parent that made sure she went to bed at a proper time.

“Come on Jassy, you know if I let you stay up you’ll be cranky all day tomorrow,” Shane tsked as he got her tucked in, “Did you like the movies, though?”

She gave him a sleepy smile, “Mm-hm…dad was funny…”

“He was! He was the funniest guy I knew,”

“Do you miss ‘em?”

Shane took a deep breath and nodded, “Everyday, Jas. I really wish you could have known them,”

“Yeah…” Jas mumbled, “You’re funny too… I’m happy you’re my uncle.”

“So am I,” Shane smiled softly, “Let’s get to sleep though, okay? Biiiig day tomorrow.”

“Not even sleepy…” she mumbled, yawning immediately after. Shane shook his head, “Mm-hmm, sounds like you’re wide awake there,”

“Yup…” Jas retorted, barely able to keep her eyes open, “Wiiiide awake,”

She fell asleep almost instantly unable to stay awake a moment longer. As much as she would protest bedtime, she’d always be lights out in minutes without fail. Shane turned off the lamp next to her, whispering softly, “Night, Jassy,”

With the apartment now sitting in the dark, the smile he had been forcing onto his face all day vanished. He sighed deeply, holding his head in his hands. Between keeping a customer service attitude for work, and staying strong for Jas, he was exhausted by the day’s end. The soul crushing bitterness he felt had no buffer anymore, feeling free to just overtake him now that there wasn’t anyone awake or around to see him. Every day was a struggle, forcing him to bottle up his fears and frustrations for the greater good. He couldn’t mask how he was feeling anymore, and he didn’t want to. Lifting himself up from the floor, he drug himself to the kitchen, pulling a new six pack from the fridge.

The bitter taste of beer almost made him gag, but he forced it down. As awful as the cheap stuff tasted, it was one thing that helped quiet down his mind when there wasn’t a readily available distraction. Before all this he’d normally watch some crappy reality tv, or blast some music to keep his mind busy, but that wasn’t possible anymore. He was left just in silence, him and the can in his hand.

Leaning against the counter, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wouldn’t let this become a habit; he couldn’t let this become a habit. When they were in college, Jason talked at length about his fathers drinking habits, how he became a moping, pathetic man the moment he could get a bottle in his hand. It was miserable, and made Jason feel so incredibly lonely and sad when he was growing up. He hated it, and rarely drank because of it. Shane didn’t want to become that kind of man, not when he had Jas to worry about. He promised himself he’d never get to that point, that he’d never make Jas feel miserable because of his own habits. Every time he pulled that can towards his lips, he could just envision Jason’s face as he talked about those experiences, and just felt a little bit worse. But he wasn’t going to be like that, he knew his limits, he knew when to quit. He’d just have one more , and head to sleep.

That’s what he’d been telling himself just about every night for months now; just one more. It was just a small part of his routine; it wasn’t a problem… was it? He didn’t even want to entertain the idea of having one. He was fine, he would be fine , he just needed a bit of extra help at the end of the day. Plenty of people did the same and functioned just fine, right? He’d been finding every possible way to rationalize it since he started. But it was progressively getting worse, as much as he wouldn’t admit it. First it was just one drink occasionally, then one can a night, then two, then three. He promised himself he’d stop here, just like he promised himself at every other stage. He was stupid to believe himself, but he chose to anyway. He finished a fourth can and tossed it into the recycling, feeling the miserable feeling in his heart grow just a bit more numb.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror across the room, wincing at the sight. Oh, he was a sight for sore eyes. He looked so tired and unkempt, his hair choppy, once bright eyes dull. The man that was once so happy and full of life was replaced with this… husk, and it was getting harder to keep up this charade that he was doing fine.

Lumbering off to the couch, he grabbed a pillow and blanket and curled up as much as he could. It was far too small for his stocky frame to lay upon comfortably, but he made do. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept on a proper bed. The apartment wasn’t large enough to accommodate two of them, and there was no way in hell he was affording a larger one, so he had given up that privilege for Jas’ sake. He tried not to be bitter about it though. Sacrifices had to be made for family sometimes, that much he accepted long ago.

And who knew, maybe someday soon he’d get some big break. Maybe he’d win the lottery, and they could actually move into a nice, big house and never have to worry about money or anything ever again. He could pay off his looming debts, get Jas into a good school and good college someday, maybe help fund the ranch so Marnie could afford to have help on it again. Ah, the “if only”’s. His ambitions for the future were big but felt so unobtainable in this tiny little space.

The exhaustion of the day and growing buzz from the drinks he just downed drew him into the comforting arms of sleep. The last thing he saw was the screen on the TV, a beautiful image of him, Jason, and Amelia all together, happy as could be. They were all so innocent, so clueless of what would befall them in just two years time as they chattered away. Shane envied it, the obliviousness of his younger self.

His eyes glossed over as he listened to the hushed volume of the tv, hearing just one last conversation the trio had on the outtake reel. Jason was being silly as always, putting two straws in his mouth to look like tusks, acting wild in an attempt to get the other two to laugh.

“You are such a dork .” Amelia laughed, zooming the camera in on him and Shane, “ Both of you are dorks.”

“Well if you’re hanging out with us that makes you one too,” Shane retorted, a big ole’ smirk on his face.

Jason pulled the straws from his mouth, leaning over to give Amelia a kiss on the cheek, “My favorite dork.” She giggled in response, kissing him right back, “And you’re mine,”

“Wow, ouch,” Shane joked, feigning disappointment, “It’s like you two don’t even like me, anymore!” his voice was dripping with playful sarcasm.

“Oh, hush,” Jason punched his shoulder playfully, getting a laugh from Shane, who kept the bit going, “Nope, you two made your choice, guess I’m alone now,”

Jason rolled his eyes and smiled, “Come on, you know we’ll always be here for you, man,”

Oh, how Shane wished that was true.

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv fanfiction #stardew valley fanfiction #fanfic #sdv shane #stardew valley shane #sdv jas

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 2 years

Text

Sheer Desire

A/N: So this was definitely not planned to be the first thing I post in the new year. In fact, it started as a kinktober prompt (stockings & lingerie) that got sidelined and seemed to double like bread dough while I wasn’t looking. I wanted to finish up the last few holiday-ish things that I had planned and get them up this week... but Frankie had other plans. And who tf am I to stop him? This follows along with the other Frankie x Reader pieces I’ve written, but can also be read as a stand alone. I hope you enjoy!!

WC: 8.7k

Warnings: language, smut, Francisco Morales’ mouth ;)

Summary: You and Frankie attend Benny’s wedding together, and he struggles to keep his hands to himself the whole night. Until he doesn’t have to. That’s it, that’s the fic.

Look at that. Seven whole minutes to spare.

Blowing out a relieved breath, you pulled into one of the few remaining spots in the area of the hotel lot cordoned off for event parking, the signs reading Welcome to the wedding of Alana Ruiz & Benjamin Miller in gold script. You knew you’d be cutting it close, working an open shift at the bar and then racing home to clean up, change and grab your things for the weekend before hitting the road and making the two and a half hour drive down to Marco Island, but there hadn’t been another option. It was the first major event that Frankie had invited you to since you’d taken the next step in your relationship, so you’d done what you had to to make it work. I’m just glad I’m not late.

Picking up your phone from the cup holder, you sent a quick text to let Frankie know that you’d made it. He and the rest of the wedding party had gotten there the night before for the rehearsal dinner, and he had been checking in with you every few hours throughout the day to make sure that nothing had changed as far as your ETA. You knew that it was partially because of his military background, wanting to make sure that things were running according to plan. But as you scrolled through the messages he’d sent, you couldn’t help the smile that curved your lips. But it's also because he’s excited.

Your smile grew as you set the device back in the cupholder and reached down to slide off the flip flops you’d worn to drive in. Tossing them to the floor on the passenger side, you grabbed the pair of sheer black stockings that you’d shoved in your purse on your way out the door. You’d been unsure if you wanted to wear them, and you didn’t have time to decide before you left. But as soon as they were in your hand, you pictured the way they would look balled up in Frankie’s grip later in the night, and the fire that flared in you at that image made the decision for you.

Taking a few seconds, you rolled them up your legs and then shoved your feet into the pair of low wedge heels you’d chosen for the night. You checked your reflection in the visor mirror, touching up your lipstick with the tip of your pinky finger. Okay, good to go. You took a breath, and then you took your phone and purse and hurried towards the walkway that led to where the rows of chairs were set up overlooking the water. Here I come, Frankie.

– – –

The ceremony was beautiful. It had been timed almost perfectly so that the sunset painted the Gulf in shades of rosy copper and ripples of indigo, the shadowy silhouettes of palm trees acting as a backdrop for the I do’s. Benny and Alana had chosen to write their own vows, and Alana’s brother had been the one to officiate, so it had been intimate and personal, the love and happiness between the two of them absolutely tangible.

As was the feeling of Frankie’s eyes on you from his place between Will and Pope on Benny’s right. All three of them looked fantastic in the brown suits that they wore, but your focus was only on the man in the middle. Damn, Morales.

You locked your gaze with his and smiled, mouthing the word hi. Your lower lip slipped between your teeth at the way he lifted his hand away from his leg just enough to give you a covert wave. Oh, look at him. His cheek rose in a lopsided grin that only made him more attractive - especially when you noticed his dimple peeking through one of the patches in his beard.

You’d been falling in love with Frankie for months, finding yourself a little deeper in it every day. But you took a steep tumble that night.

And though you had ended up spending most of the cocktail hour on your own, Frankie and the others wrapped up in greeting guests and taking pictures, when he finally did get his arms around you, you felt that he was already there, ready to catch you. Ready to dive in even further with you.

“Hey,” he said, his hands finding their way to your waist as soon as you were in reach, his lips seeking yours the second the single syllable left them. “Missed you.” His fingers flexed in the satin of your dress as he kissed you again, this time slower and longer, one hand rising up to cup the side of your face. You leaned into his touch, your smile pushing your cheek against his palm. “Glad you’re here.”

“Hey yourself, Frankie.” Your left hand slid inside his jacket, smoothing over his side and around to press flat against his broad back. None of the groomsmen wore ties, so the fingers of your right hand curled around his lapel, that forearm resting against his chest. “Missed you, too.” You smiled against his lips as you continued to kiss him.

As soon as he felt your lips part, his tongue slipped into your mouth to glide atop yours, stealing your breath, and then he was pulling back and bumping the tip of your nose with his. “You are so damn beautiful.” Both hands settled at your waist again as his eyes swept up and down your frame, noticing the way your dress hung on your hips to flare slightly at your knees, appreciating the low cut of the neckline and the small triangular cutout that was just visible under the knotted tie that embellished the top. And then he noticed your legs and the way they looked encased in sheer black nylon, so thin it was barely there at all, and he groaned. “Gonna have a hard time keeping my hands to myself for the next few hours.”

That makes two of us. “You know, you clean up pretty well yourself, Morales. It’s not gonna be easy for me, either.” The hand that you had on his back came to join the other, gripping both lapels and tugging on them. You let out a small laugh, closing your eyes and shaking your head. “Guess it's a good thing we’re staying here then, huh?” Opening your eyes again, you arched one brow and smirked at him. “Two and a half hours isn’t a short drive and-”

He cut you off then, eyes darkening as they narrowed slightly but never left yours. “If we were driving home tonight? I wouldn’t wait.” There was a raspy quality to his voice that wiped the teasing grin right off of your face as you realized what he meant. He had driven down with Pope the night before so that he could drive home with you, so you’d be in the same car. Oh, fuck. Your heart thudded hard, and you felt your eyes go wide as he leaned in to finish telling you what would happen on the ride home if you didn’t have a room for the weekend. “I can drive with my left hand, and the right one can-”

Just then you heard your name being called from somewhere behind you. Frankie winked and let the rest of his words hang, knowing that you knew damn well what his free hand would be doing in that scenario. Oh, you are gonna be trouble tonight, Francisco. Tearing your eyes away from him, you looked up to see Pope walking over, his arm wrapped around the waist of a stunning brunette in a burgundy dress. Wait a minute, is that…

You glanced back up at Frankie, a smile spreading across your lips. “Is that Yovanna? I thought Pope said she couldn’t make it!”

“Yeah.” He nodded as you released the collar of his jacket, arms going back to your sides after reaching across your chest to secure the strap of your purse on your shoulder. “She flew in this morning to surprise him.” His chuckle turned his eyes light and warm again as his hands left your body, too, and it was clear to see how glad he was about his friend’s happiness. Good. He deserves it. They all do.

Your eyebrows flew up. “Wow, that’s a hell of a surprise. I bet he was excited.”

“He was. Shoulda seen his face when she called from the airport.” Frankie leaned down to drop a kiss to your temple as the other couple came within a few strides of where you stood. “Surprises are nice,” he whispered in your ear. “But I liked knowing you were gonna be here.” I did, too.

Pope reached for you then, giving you a hug and introducing you to the woman you’d heard so much about but had yet to meet, and then the four of you went to catch up with Will at the bar, Frankie’s fingers laced with yours as you walked. Your group was joined by the two bridesmaids that had walked down the aisle with Will, both women eyeing the older Miller brother. His and Benny’s cousin Mark was supposed to have been the fourth groomsman, but he’d broken his leg in three places just a few weeks out from the wedding and was in a full hip to toe fiberglass cast. To keep anyone from having to walk alone, Will had been assigned both of Alana’s college roommates - who also happened to be the only two of the four bridesmaids that were single - and it seemed as though neither of them cared that he had his arms around them both. Oh, this is going to be a fun night. You grinned as you finished your drink, an autumn evening breeze sweeping through the courtyard.

– – –

It hadn’t dawned on you that you and Frankie had never danced together until the DJ opened the floor for all couples to join the bride and groom.

When else would we have, though?

Despite all the milestones and things you had shared since things had become more serious, and even though there were definitely more important and significant bridges to cross in the future, the feeling that you got when he led you out amongst the sea of couples was one of pure elation. It swirled in your chest, and if it weren’t for the way his arms kept you grounded as he took you in his hold, you would have thought it possible for you to float away. Doing new things with him - even something as normal as dancing together at a friend’s wedding - made you realize that you wanted to do everything with him.

Frankie clasped your hand in his and brought it to his chest, his other hand sliding south into the dip at the base of your spine. With his next swaying step he pressed you closer, shrinking the space between your bodies until you could feel each breath that filled his lungs and the way that his heart beat didn’t match the slow cadence of the song that you were dancing to. Mine doesn’t either, though.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath in through your nose, the arm you had around his torso tightening to mirror the hold he had on you. Frankie’s cologne - mixed with the scent of the smoky whiskey he drank at the cocktail hour - nearly overwhelmed your senses as you laid your head against his shoulder, your head spinning as you let your breath back out. He smells so damn good. The slow sweep of his thumb up and down your back sent a tingle through your bloodstream that only intensified when you felt his lips brush your forehead, where he left a featherlight kiss and two whispered words.

“Thank you.”

Eyes opening, you squeezed his hand and picked your head up to meet his gaze. Despite the fact that the dance floor was packed with couples - the two of you had bumped shoulders with Pope and Yovanna on one side, and the newly minted Millers on the other - he was all you could see. And he’s all I want. You smiled, head tilted to one side as you blinked at him. “For what?”

Raising your joined hands to his lips, he kissed your curled fingers before returning them to where they were. “For this. Tonight. Being my date.” He swallowed, your eyes flicking down to track the movement of his throat before coming back up to his face. “For showing up for me.”

“Frankie,” you spoke his name softly, leaning in to nuzzle the ridge of your nose against the line of his jaw, his normal scruff cropped closer to his face for the occasion but still long enough for you to feel it. I’ll always show up for you, Francisco Morales. As long as you want me to.

“For everything.” He sighed, flexing the fingers of his right hand against your back, the tips pushing into the material of your dress and your flesh beneath it. There was no space left between you to eliminate, but that didn’t seem to matter to him as he urged you closer. “I don’t thank you enough.”

You closed your eyes and let him tuck you into his chest as the song continued, his arm wrapping more tightly around you. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, making it easy for you to press your lips to his neck. His skin was warm where you kissed him, and you trailed a few more small kisses up towards his ear, the soft curls behind it tickling your cheek. “You don’t have to thank me, Frankie,” you whispered. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“I do, though.” He surprised you then, picking up the hand that was twined with yours and looping it around you at the same time that he used the one resting on your spine to turn you. Oh, alright. You gasped, the sound becoming a small laugh and then a warm hum as his arms resettled around your waist with yours crossed over one another, your back to his front and his chin over your shoulder. “And when we get up to our room later?” He curved his free hand around your hip and pulled you to him, so that his next two words could only be taken one way. “I will.”

A shiver ran from the shell of your ear down to your toes, your body responding by sending waves of heat to crash through your lower belly. Fuck, Frankie. He waited a few beats before turning you back to your original hold, and you were grateful for the time to get your suddenly racing heart somewhat under control. When you were face to face again, you opened your eyes to see just a touch of smugness in his grin. Because you know just what you’re doing, don’t you? The sincerity of what he’d been saying just before he set you ablaze, though, was still the most prominent thing you saw in his expression.

“Oh yeah?” You freed your hand from his and brought it up to his forehead to push a rogue curl back into place. It slipped stubbornly down again with his nod and you let it, your palm resting on his shoulder momentarily. “Well I like the sound of that, Frankie.”

His eyes flashed, and it didn’t matter that the courtyard was strung with small bulbs of golden light or that beyond them, the whole night sky was on display. That look… His hand came up to his shoulder to scoop yours into it again, his thumb pressing into the cup of your palm before his fingers curled over your knuckles. “Good.” You could tell that the song you were dancing to was ending, and you knew that meant that in just a few moments you’d be seated at your table. But it seemed Frankie wasn’t done stirring things in you just to let them simmer for the next few hours. As the music began to fade out, he pulled you close and made sure that no one else could hear. “I like your sounds.” He nipped at your earlobe and you had to swallow a whimper. “Wanna hear ‘em all tonight.”

Oh, don’t worry, you’re going to.

You knew that wasn’t going to be an issue. Because of the way that you had to move your schedule around to take off the rest of the weekend and the following Monday, and since Frankie had Oliver the previous week, the two of you hadn’t spent the night together in a little over fourteen days. But now we’ve got three in a row. Just us. Before you could respond to what he’d said though, the DJ was thanking everyone for joining Benny and Alana for their first dance and asking that you all be seated for the toasts. Biting your lower lip in lieu of an answer, you shook your head as Frankie winked at you, and then you let him lead you to your table.

Pope and Yovanna were already back, along with two of the bridesmaids and their spouses, but you passed Will as he made his way in the opposite direction, where the other two bridesmaids stood ready to start the toasts. You mouthed a “good luck” to him, the man giving you a bright grin as Frankie clapped him on the shoulder and mumbled, “Don’t fuck up, Ironhead.”

“Yeah, fuck you too, Fish,” Will shot back under his breath as he elbowed Frankie, who snorted.

The interaction was entirely commonplace for their group of friends, and it made you happy to know that after everything that the four of them had gone through together - some of which you understood that you might never know - they’d always have each other’s backs, always be there for one another during their best and worst times. You leaned into Frankie, your bare arm pressed to the sleeve of his jacket. And this is one of the good times.

Turning your head, you kissed his bicep and hoped for nothing but good times for a long time.

He pulled out a chair for you and you sank into it as he sat in the one next to it, listening intently as Will delivered a heartfelt toast to his little brother and new sister-in-law. Ending it by raising his glass, Will asked that everyone do the same. After listening to the things he said - about love, trust, growth and support, and how the best relationships, like Benny and Alana’s, had all of those things - you weren’t surprised to find that your eyes were damp as you took a sip of champagne.

Because… You swallowed, watery eyes shifting to the man beside you. Because so do we. Clearing your throat, you swallowed again, though this time it was a lump of emotion instead of a bubbly beverage. “Will’s too good at public speaking.” You sniffed, leaning over towards Frankie, indicating the tears shining in your eyes.

He let out a small laugh, but you could see that the speech had struck a chord with him as well. “He is,” Frankie agreed, reaching over to brush away some of the wetness you missed on your cheek.

Will was finishing up by wrapping Benny and Alana in a hug, and then he handed the microphone over to the two women who were making a toast together, before making his way back to your group. You set your glass back down as you felt Frankie’s hand cover your knee under the table. He’d gathered the skirt of your dress up, pushing it aside so that his thumb could slowly stroke over the sheer material stretched over your legs, and though you were still thinking about what Will had just said, you were immediately distracted by what Frankie was doing. The way that his touch roved inward and higher up your thigh sent a fresh flood of heat into your belly, his warm exhale against your skin as he leaned close to whisper to you while Alana’s maid of honor continued her part of the speech only making it that much more difficult to pay attention.

“I know I said it already but.. you look incredible tonight.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “You always do.’ Before you could respond, he lightly squeezed your leg, fingers tightening just above your knee before spreading out over the thin barrier between his flesh and yours. “These things are drivin’ me crazy, though.” He dug his fingertips in just enough to test the elasticity, letting out a quiet but throaty sigh as he relaxed his grip again. The sound made your eyes snap up to meet his, their depths darkened by his next few words. Oh, shit. “I wanna see them. But I also can’t wait to get them off you.”

The space around you broke out in good-natured laughter at something that Megan said in her toast, but you had no idea what it was because at that exact moment, Frankie’s hand slid higher up your leg - high enough for him to realize that it wasn’t a pair of regular pantyhose that you were wearing. They were thigh high stockings, topped with delicate black lace that hugged your legs. His eyes widened, a bolt of desire crashing through them that you swore you could feel.

Because that means… “You can take them off, Frankie.” You sucked in a breath as his thumbnail lightly scraped over the embellished top and onto your skin before sliding beneath the elastic, your heart hammering. “But you don’t have to.”

He stared at you then, his whole chest expanding with his inhale, and even though you were having a great time celebrating the new Mr. and Mrs. Miller, you couldn’t wait to get up to your hotel room so you could let that spark catch and consume you. Can’t leave yet though.

“Oh, I will.” He arched one brow, gently pressing the thumb that was still beneath your stocking into the flesh of your thigh. “Eventually.”

That time when the toast ended and you were supposed to drink to the newlyweds, neither of you had your glass in hand. You hadn’t even noticed the cheers and applause, the flashes of photos being taken. Instead, you stared at the flick of Frankie’s tongue as it poked between his lips to wet them, and you knew he was watching the way your breastbone rose and sank with your stunted breaths at the suggestions you both were making.

I- we can’t… Not yet, it just… There were still hours left in the evening - dinner and dancing and celebrating and cake and pictures and… And he’s in the wedding party. He can’t disappear this early. “Jesus, Frankie, the night just started and-”

He withdrew his hand then, a devilish grin softening into something more teasing. “I know. Like I said…” He winked, lips twitching into a full on smile before pressing together as he nodded. “Eventually.”

Oh, wearing these was definitely the right call.

– – –

A few hours - and several more less than subtle hints from both of you - later, your cheeks were sore from laughing and smiling. The party was starting to wind down, the clock ticking towards the end of the night, when you felt Frankie’s grip squeeze your leg under the table again. “Gonna go get one more drink from the bar.” He cocked his head to the side. “And then we can…” He let his sentence trail off, raising one eyebrow and slipping his thumb under the lacy elastic band around your thigh. “How’s that sound?”

You sucked in a breath, teeth biting down on your lower lip as you nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, leaning in to press his nose against your cheek, lips close to your ear. “Sounds.” Oh, fuck. “Be right back.”

With that he stood, following Pope and Will over to the bar. Yovanna had excused herself to use the restroom, so you were left alone at the table, your stomach swooping and your heart pounding. Your mind filled once more with the image that inspired your fashion choice for the night - Frankie’s thick, strong, rough fingers clutching the delicate sheers after removing them from your body - and you felt a ripple of excitement at how close you were to seeing it come true. Soon. So soon. He’s gonna come back and then-

And then you snapped your head up as Benny’s voice hit your ear, the man grinning as he waved around the glass in his hand and made his way to your table. He was clearly drunk - but happily and pleasantly so, a slight stumble to his swagger but not at all inappropriate for a groom at his own wedding. This is the happiest I’ve ever seen him. Pressing pause on the thoughts that were just about to run rampant as you stared dazedly out at the darkened beach beyond the dunes, you broke into a genuine smile of your own as he got closer.

“Hey, Benny,” you pulled out the chair next to you, indicating that he could sit. “You just missed the guys, they went over to the-”

The single cube of ice in his glass knocked against the side of it as he took a big swig of his beverage. Eyebrows gathered and forehead rumpled, he held up his free hand and mumbled an un-uh, shaking his head as he swallowed. “Nope, I came over to talk to you.”

You laughed and cocked your head to the side. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Listen, I just-” He swung himself into the empty seat next to you with a sigh, setting his glass down next to Frankie’s discarded silverware. “I’m sorry Alana didn’t wanna do the whole,” he brought both hands in front of himself and mimed an over the shoulder throwing motion before continuing. “The whole toss the flowers thing.” The movement caused his whole body to tip to one side, both of your hands reaching out to stop him from falling off his seat. Though I don’t know if it would do anything. Luckily your help wasn’t necessary, Benny righting himself by gripping the table and shifting his weight. He closed one eye in an exaggerated wink and pointed at you with a grin. “Woulda put my money on you catchin’ it, and then…” He jerked his head towards the bar and waited for you to look over.

Though you already knew what you would see when you did, you still sucked in a breath at the sight of him, warmth spreading over your cheeks, and bursting in your chest. He’s… oh, look at him. Frankie stood waiting for drinks with Pope and Will, a deeply genuine laugh brightening his features as he jokingly smacked Pope’s shoulder, Will doubled over in laughter as well. It made you happy, seeing him like that, and you watched the three of them - focusing on Frankie - with a smile on your lips for a few more seconds before you turned back to face Benny.

Suddenly, the meaning behind his words clicked, and you laughed, rolling your eyes. “It’s fine, Benny. It’s an outdated tradition anyway, and it takes time away from other things li-”

He blew a breath out through his lips, cutting you off with an exaggerated wave of his hand. “No, but it's…” Your eyes widened in amusement as his flitted over your shoulder and brightened as he grinned. What is he doing? You didn’t need to wait long for your answer though, Benny raising one hand and waving to someone behind you. “Hey! Ang! C’mere.” Who is? You turned to see who he was talking to as one of the women in the bridal party - the one who had been partnered with Pope when they’d all walked down the aisle during the ceremony - came towards your table, her own small bouquet in hand. Oh, right, Angela. “Ang, lemme borrow that real quick, okay?” He gestured to her flowers. “Please?’

She leaned down with a huge smile on her face, placing one hand on the back of his chair, and kissed him on the cheek. “Anything for my brand new brother in law!” Dropping her bouquet in his lap, she laughed and clapped her hands. “I’m heading back to the dance floor while there’s still time, and when you’re done here I better see you out there twirling the shit out of my sister, Miller!” Laughing, she shimmied her way out towards the group of people on the floor, Benny calling a ‘Yes ma’am!’ after her.

“Benny,” you shook your head as he picked up the bundle of daisies and dahlias in his lap and glanced down at it. “What are you-” But you knew what he was doing the second you saw the mischievous quirk of his lips. Before you could get the final word of your question out, he sprung into action, flinging the bouquet at you. “What?!” You sputtered, hands flying out instinctively to catch what he’d thrown at you. “Why are you-”

He just drummed his hands on the table top, some of the amber liquid in his glass almost sloshing up over the rim.. “See? I fuckin’ told you!”

Closing your eyes, you let out a chuckle and hid your face behind the blossoms. “Benny…” You groaned, the sound devolving into a laugh. “You-”

“What’s goin’ on over here, hmm?” Just then you felt Frankie’s solid presence behind you, one arm coming around your chair to set your drink on the table and press a kiss near your temple. Lowering the flowers to your lap, you closed your eyes as he let his lips linger long enough for you to feel him smile before he drew them away. Hi.

“What’s goin’ on, ‘Fish,” Benny stood and faked a punch at Frankie’s bicep, opening his fist and letting it clap over the older man’s shoulder instead. “Is that your girl here just caught the flowers, so you know what that means.” Without waiting for a response, he waggled his eyebrows and bent down to retrieve his glass. “Now if you two will excuse me, I need to go find my wife.”

“Yeah, you go do that, Benjamin,” Frankie muttered, shaking his head and bringing one hand up to swipe downwards over his mouth, the corners of it twitching behind his palm. Benny shot you another wink before turning towards where Alana was dancing with Angela, Will, Pope and Yovanna. “Can’t help himself, can he?” He spoke under his breath, dropping his hand.

“You know Benny.” You shrugged, laughing as you crossed one leg over the other. The hem of your dress slid up as you shifted your position, exposing more of your knee and thigh. Though the autumn breeze that swept through the night was cool enough to cause a quick chill, all you felt was fire when his eyes fell to your lap. Oh. He… fuck.

The pink tip of Frankie’s tongue slid between the seam of his lips to wet them, and then he was leaning down to reach for the bundle of blossoms still sitting in your lap. “So you caught these, huh?” His fingers skated intentionally over the thin mesh of your stockings, knuckles pressing down against your knee as he wrapped his grip around the stems of the flowers.

It was all you could do not to openly moan at the look in his eyes and the presence of his large hand curled around the bouquet resting atop your legs. Swallowing hard, you blinked and nodded. “Mmhmm.” You took a breath that made your whole chest heave as he lifted the flowers away, keeping his eyes on the sliver of your upper leg that he’d just uncovered. “Sure did.” Benny threw them at me, but same difference.

Flipping the bouquet onto the table, he brought his now empty hand back to your lap and curved it around your top leg. “Well, I think that’s our cue then.”

Oh, is it? Your heart slammed to a stop as he used his grip to uncross your legs, but it sped up again as his fingers shifted from your thigh to your hand. He reached down for the other one and pulled you to your feet, his own planted so close to you that when you stood you were nearly chest to chest. He’d discarded his jacket earlier - it hung on the back of his chair instead of across his shoulders - and his sleeves had been uncuffed and rolled to the elbow, so when his arms went around you, you could easily feel the warmth of his body through the white button down he wore. Head swimming and pulse thrumming, you leaned into his hold and suddenly couldn’t wait to be upstairs. But I thought he said…

“Thought you said one more drink.” Your voice was thin and wispy, your words dissolving into a hum as he ducked his head to kiss behind your ear. Not that I’m complaining. There was music playing, you were sure of it, but you couldn’t hear it over the thoughts racing through your head. “You just-” You gasped as his tongue swept over your skin. Oh, shit. You swallowed. “You just stood in line at the bar, and we haven’t said goodnight to-”

You weren’t actually trying to convince him to stay any longer, and he knew it. “We’ll come back down for a drink in the lobby later,” he growled into your neck. “Say goodnight to ‘em then.” You could feel his warm breath on your skin, vibrating in your blood. “They’re not gonna notice we’re gone, trust me.” His facial hair dragged over your throat as he moved his mouth up to nip at your earlobe, teeth catching on the inner ridge of your ear. “Wanna see you in those sexy fucking things you got on.” That’s why I wore them. He doubled down then, lowering his tone even more, his words dripping directly into your soul to shake it. “Wanna feel that lace clamped around my head while I-”

“Fuck, Frankie, let’s…” You panted out a breath, leaning your forehead into his shoulder as he let out a short chuckle. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth he was in motion, gathering up his jacket and handing you your purse. The small black rectangle swung from the strap with the force of his hasty grab, and you had to laugh, teeth biting down into your bottom lip. God, we’re like two horny kids, it’s… Frankie’s wide palm settled firmly on your back then, steady and strong and you let him guide you through the cluster of tables and away from the reception area. It’s crazy how much I want him.

His fingers flexed as he moved his hand around to your hip, and as the door to the hotel lobby slid open, you looked up at him and the heat that had been pooling in your lower belly flooded through your entire body.

Because when he looked down at you, you saw, you felt - you knew - that he wanted you just as much. I’m yours, Frankie.

– – –

Your dress was over your head and on the floor within seconds of stepping into the room. Frankie’s hands worked quickly to bolt the lock before removing your clothing and landing at your waist. A groan rumbled deep in his throat to make a breath catch in yours. Oh, that- Your fists tightened in the material of his shirt as the gravelly sound he made stirred the embers in your belly into flame. Tipping your head back, his name left your lips in a sigh as your eyes clamped shut.

“Finally got you to myself.” His large palms roved up your sides, fingers flexing into your flesh as he leaned in to pin you to the door. Ducking his head so that his lips hovered just over the pulse point on your neck, you felt the vibrations of each syllable as he spoke. “All to myself.”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, hands blindly moving to the buttons on his shirt and undoing the few that were still fastened. You sure do. He mouthed along the slope of your shoulder and then back up your throat, smiling when he felt you swallow. His touch wandered around to your back, climbing up and over the clasp of your bra, and you were emboldened by the sound - and feel - of another of his groans. Tongue flicking out to wet your lips, you challenged him. “What are you gonna do about it, Morales?”

When he lifted his head to lock his eyes with yours, there was no need for him to answer your question with words. Oh fuck. You saw the same dark veil of desire fall over them that had been there from the start - when all you had were late night fucks, no feelings, all fast moves and finding release. But behind that, now you saw something else. Something that both deepened and brightened that darkness currently overtaking his brown eyes. Because now it’s… now we-

Frankie dropped his gaze then, letting it rake all the way down your form as he took half a step back. “Fuck,” he muttered, chest heaving as he took in the view of your body. You felt the way his eyes lingered on the lacy band of your thigh highs for a few seconds, as though he were tracing the patterns and memorizing the way they looked stretched over the muscles of your legs. Hands following the trail that his eyes were blazing, he let them both settle low on your hips, thumbs swiping over the thin material of your underwear and into the crease where your thigh met your pelvis. “Look at you.”

His eyes snapped back up to yours then, and there it was - desire, but not just to take. Not just to have you in his hands and take you into his bed, but to take you apart, peel pleasure from you in spirals. You sucked in a breath, letting it out in a quick exhale that you were sure he felt fan across his lips and cheek. He didn’t have to answer your question with words, but he did anyway.

“You wanna know what I’m gonna do about it?” His voice was deep and raspy as he asked, and it was all you could do to nod in response. He pressed his thumbs more firmly into the space they occupied, the tip of his tongue flicking out to dampen his lips. “Gonna make you forget all about going back downstairs for that drink.”

You were going to say something teasing or clever. Something witty or flirty. But that was before the corner of Frankie’s mouth pulled up in a lopsided grin that teemed with mischief. That was before his hands coasted over your curves as he lowered himself to his knees in front of you, chin tilted up so he could appreciate you from a new angle. When he looks at me like that it's… A thin whimper broke loose from your lips, your breathing starting to become quicker and more shallow as you let him overwhelm you. And he hasn’t even done anything yet. Fuck. Instead of anything like what you were planning on saying, you opted for his name as you combed your fingernails through his hair.

“Yeah?” He let his right hand wander to the back of your left thigh, fingertips running over the textured lace there. You shook your head. “What drink?”

He let out a short huff of laughter, and then you gasped as his right hand plunged downwards between the elastic and your skin, the sheer fabric stretching over his knuckles as he gripped your flesh. “These are…” His other palm slid down the outside of your right leg, his eyes following his own movement. They widened, a quiet curse falling from his lips as he wrapped his fingers around your calf, and then he lifted his gaze back up to find yours. “I like these.” Leaning forward, he laid his lips to the skin of that thigh, just above the edge of the band holding the barely-there garment up. You sighed at the warm drag of his mouth along the lace. “Like you in these.”

He turned his face to give the same attention to your opposite thigh, the hair on his head brushing the skin he’d just lavished with his tongue and lips, the hair on his cheek and chin tickling your other leg as he kissed you there as well. That feels… Your eyes fell shut as your hand found its way into his curls, fingers weaving between them, and you let out a hum. “Thought you might, Frankie.” You opened your eyes again, lids heavy as you looked down at him. He tilted his head back to rest his chin on your kneecap. “Hoped you would.”

“Did you?” He squeezed you gently as he asked, both hands kneading into your muscle. You responded with a whispered yes. “Well, as usual,” he mumbled, pausing to place another kiss to the inside of your left thigh, the sensation causing you to let out a breathless sigh, “you were right.” You shivered as you felt the light scrape of his teeth over the skin he’d just been focused on. “Driving me fuckin’ crazy all night knowing you had these on under that dress and-” You nearly went boneless as he pressed his forehead and nose to the front of your right thigh, groaning into your skin. “And that you put ‘em on for me.”

“I did.” You practically panted out the words as your hands fell to his shoulders. Why is he still wearing clothes? “Did it in the car when I got here. Put ‘em on so you could take them off me, Frankie.”

“Oh, I’m gonna. Wanna take everything off you.” His eyes flicked up to the matching black lingerie set that you wore, following the scalloped edges that hugged the swell of your breasts. “Just not yet.”

He nuzzled higher up towards the apex of your thighs, his hot breath setting you ablaze as you suddenly realized - at the same time he did - that you were already soaked at just the hint of what was to come. Oh, fuck.

The starving sound in his voice as he said your name cracked you open and turned everything inside of you to molten liquid.

Oh, fuck, I… he- His eyes flashed and then fell shut as his tongue pressed flat against the material of your underwear, and you couldn’t contain your moan if your life depended on it. And he wants to hear it. He swore under his breath, the string of half coherent curses vibrating through the damp material and sending sparks into your bloodstream.

“Gonna start with these, though.” His tongue teased the edge of them, pushing beneath the elastic as he reached for the waistband with both hands. Teeth catching on the hem, he grinned and they snapped back against your skin. You inhaled sharply in a hiss as his fingers hooked in the band, the sparks in your veins bursting in tingling explosions. Wait! He needs to… he’s still dressed and - “They’re in my way. Wanna make you come on my tongue and-”

“Fuck, Frankie, wa- wait.” You gripped his shoulders, swallowing hard as your heart thundered and your head spun. Wetting your lips, you blinked down at him and took a few deep breaths.

Hands stilling where he touched you, he leaned back to look up, eyes connecting instantly with yours. “You okay? What’s-”

Before the crease between his brows could fully deepen, you shook your head and gave him a dizzy smile. “I’m fine.” Way more than fine. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. “Feeling kind of underdressed though.” Pulling at the wrinkled fabric of his shirt, you raised one eyebrow. “C’mon, Frankie, take this off. I want to… need to touch you.” Your voice warbled in your throat as he leaned forward to brush a kiss right below your navel, that molten heat you felt before responding to his lips by pooling in that spot.

You whimpered, imagining him trying to lick at that heat with his tongue. He released a throaty sigh and though you couldn’t be sure, you had a feeling he was imagining the same thing.

You didn’t have to ask him twice to take his shirt off, and you knew it was because he was just as eager to feel your hands on his skin as you were to put them there. He stood at your urging, letting you help him with the few remaining buttons, and then your hands were slipping under the open sides of his shirt as his found their home near your hips. Moving your palms over his chest and up towards his shoulders, you shucked the dress shirt down onto his biceps, your touch roving around to his back. As soon as his torso was bared he pulled you flush to his body, and then it was your turn to trail your lips in places that made him hum and groan. Because I’ve been waiting all night for this, too.

As the thought crossed your mind Frankie’s hips rolled into yours, and the feel of him - hard and thick and making his pants work to contain him - pulled another sound from you, this one grittier, needier, as you nipped at his jaw. Fuck, I’ve never… Your hands went back to the crooks of his elbows, where the sleeves of his shirt still hung on his frame, and you pushed them down his forearms. Never wanted anyone as much as I want this man.

“Easy, killer.” He teased, using one hand to free the other from his sleeves and then switching so that his shirt finally dropped to the floor. Your fingers had flown to the zipper on his pants, fumbling with the button there by the time he encircled your wrists, his grip strong but gentle as he stroked your pulse point with his thumb. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He eased your hands away from his fly, leaving it open as he used his hold on you to lead you fully into the room. After a few steps, he turned you so that you were in front of him, and then instead of pulling, he lightly pushed you until you felt the edge of the mattress behind your legs. “And neither are you.”

He pushed a little more firmly, just enough to make you tip backwards onto the bed, a small string of laughter spilling from you as the mattress bounced beneath your body. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watched as Frankie finished what you’d started with his pants. They fell around his ankles and then he stepped out of them, his grin growing wolfish as he closed the distance to kneel at the foot of the bed.

“Now -” His palms slid up the sides of your thighs so that his fingers could find the band of your underwear again. “Think we were right… about…” Curling his digits, he tugged the material to pull it down, exposing your damp skin to the cool air of the hotel room and making you suck in a breath. “Here.”

The last word came as his mouth descended on you, and within minutes you were ready to give him what he said he wanted before he took your tights off, your release slicking his chin and lips as one of your heels pressed into the shoulder blade that it was thrown over. When he finally lifted his head to look up at you, you panted out his name, breathless already. But I want more, I want-

You wanted to feel him fill you, stretch you, needed him deeper than his tongue could delve. You wanted to watch the way his throat tightened as you clenched around him, wanted to see the way bliss blew the blackness in the center of his eyes outward towards the edges. You wanted to feel his muscles work against and with your own before they went slack and soft, needed the contrast of climax and the caresses that would follow.

You wanted to fuck and then fall asleep in the arms of the man you loved with every cell in your being as the lazy sound of waves rolling up onto the sand floated through the balcony door.

But before you could reach for him to coax him up towards you, he used the shoulder that was still under your leg to scoot you higher up on the bed. “M’not done with you yet.” One eyebrow pitched into an arch as he shook his head. “Not even close.” Shrugging your thigh down into the crook of his arm, he turned his face to press his lips - still partially coated in you - to your skin. “Gotta take these off, remember?” Moving his head and angling his chin, he opened his mouth and bit the lacey edge of your stockings. “S’why you put them on, right?”

It sure fucking is. Frankie. All you could do was nod.

Keeping the lace between his teeth, Frankie began to move slowly towards your ankle, peeling the fabric down over your knee. He paused there, lips grazing your skin, the bottom one obscured by the nylon that was stretched over it making the upper one feel warmer and softer. Oh, fuck. You let out a hum that you knew he heard, his eyes lifting from what he was doing to find yours as his hands continued to roam - one over your thigh, the other dragging down over your abdomen.

“You like that?” His voice was a low, gritty rasp, the heat from his breath getting trapped between the sheer fabric and your skin, spreading down your shin.

“Yeah,” you panted. “Feels good, Frankie.”

That was an understatement. It felt like a goddamned blessing to know that this man wanted nothing more than to be undressing you with his teeth. That the only place he wanted to be in that moment - and he could be anywhere in the entire world - was right between your legs, tangled up in your limbs. It made you feel invincible and indestructible to know that he’d chosen you, that you had given your whole self to him and he’d accepted every piece of you, that he’d placed those pieces in his heart. It felt like pure passion and trust to love and be loved by Frankie Morales, especially when this was how he chose to show you.

I fucking love him so much.

He finally released his bite, letting go of the stocking which was bunched near your ankle, and then slipped two fingers between it and your skin to yank it off of your foot. “Gonna take the other one off, too.”

At that, you groaned, the sound turning into a desperate whine. “No, Frankie, don’t… don’t tease. Need to… need, fuck, Frankie, I can’t wait any-”

His chuckle was dark and deep and breathless. “Neither can I.” At that, he moved up the bed, reaching for a small box on the nightstand next to his wallet that you hadn’t noticed earlier - condoms, you realized in a haze as he tore open the package and deftly rolled the rubber over his length - and then he placed his lips next to your ear. “Gonna take the other one off… after.”

– – –

It was late morning by the time the two of you made it back down to the lobby, the hotel staff busily tending to the continental breakfast buffet that you could see Pope, Yovanna, Will and a few of the girls from the bridal party partaking in, and as you let Frankie lead you over towards them, his hand solidly placed on the small of your back as Pope’s voice carried across the space ribbing the two of you with “Look what the cat dragged in!”, you could only think of two things - one, that Frankie had been right about the two of you not making it back for a goodnight drink, and two, that the pair of stockings now laying ruined on the floor of your room had been the best fashion choice you’d ever made in your life.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from my taglist, please feel free to let me know by sending a message or by filling out the form on my masterlist :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @paracosmenthusiast @cannedsoupsucks @dihra-vesa @disgruntledspacedad @littlemisspascal @alraedesigns @mishasminion360 @stevie75 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @amb11 @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @swtaura @thescarletfang @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @competentpotato

#frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x female reader #pedrostories #frankie morales fic #triple frontier fic #frankie catfish morales #santiago pope garcia #benny miller #will miller #kinktober but make it january #whoops #this is a smut #but with feelings #anywho ENJOY.

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thehaemanthus · 1 year

Text

Grounded (2/3)

A continuation of @writtenonreceipts fic for the ACOTAR Writing Circle. You can find part one here. They also created the banner above! Which is good because that’s something I cannot do!

Love me some Feysand with flirting and shenanigans. Part of my part two was inspired by real events-- imagine, just after reading this fic, your humble author, too, is sitting in an airport as her flight gets delayed and then delayed again. No hot men for me though. We’re giving Feyre better luck!

Thank you to @azrielshadowssing for organizing the event, the authors for participating, and YOU for reading! Enjoy!

Feyre treated her phone like a bomb, gingerly placing it back into the cupholder. Tamlin’s smile mocked her— she remembered when she had taken the photo, early on in their relationship. The grin was perfect, his eyes sparkling.

That perfection was just a mask that hid a monster.

“Does everyone know you are leaving town?”

Her eyes snapped to Vodka Man. Sound rushed back in, and Feyre remembered she was sitting at the airport with a ticket to get far away.

The phone stopped ringing, and Tamlin’s face was traded for a notification that she’d missed his call.

“He shouldn’t know,” she said. “He’s just been calling a lot.”

“Clingy?”

“Sort of.”

“I can see why.” Feyre scowled at his words, properly ticked off. Before she could say anything, he continued. “I’d regret it if you were my ex and I didn’t grovel.”

“At a certain point, it turns into harassment,” she shot back. “And you don’t even know my name. We have been speaking for two minutes.”

He held out a hand. “Rhys.”

She eyed it for a moment before shaking. “Feyre.”

“There. I can safely say that, knowing your name, I would still regret it if I didn’t try and repair our hypothetical relationship after a hypothetical break-up.”

Rhys was a strange, strange man. But Feyre was stranded at the airport, it was getting later and later, and she was on a streak of acting on desire rather than reason.

So she went with it. “And in this hypothetical break-up, who broke up with who?”

“Oh, you dumped me after I did something stupid.” Feyre had to laugh at the matter-of-fact way Rhys said it. “Or maybe over time, you finally got fed up with one of my less attractive habits. Either way, I know that I’d try and fix my mistakes.”

“You’re a smarter man than my ex,” Feyre tried to say it casually. Clumsily, she changed the subject. “Why are you going to Velaris?”

Rhys went along. “Going back home, actually.”

“Oh.” She caught herself before saying something happy, remembering that he didn’t seem too happy about going to Velaris. If his words hadn’t told her, his rumpled state might have been a clue. Feyre knew all about difficulty at home. “Well, I hope it’s not as bad as all this implies.”

Rhys smiled. “All this?”

With exaggerated motions, Feyre looked around and then leaned in. “You don’t exactly look your best right now.”

He gasped loudly. “The ability to bring this to an airport gate—” he held up the bottle in its brown bag— “doesn’t scream asshole-levels of luxury to you?”

“It screams something,” Feyre snorted. “You're a mess of contradictions.”

“You’ve been looking at me,” he smirked.

“Attention to detail,” she reminded him. “And it doesn’t take a genius to glance at you and come to some conclusions.”

Rhys raised an eyebrow. “What might those conclusions be, darling?”

Oh, this was dangerous territory. When had chatting with hot Vodka Man turned into flirting with Rhys?

“All passengers flying to Velaris on flight 724 at gate D9, we have an update.” Praise this gate agent and her timely interruption. In fact, she had been a delight all night with the frequent updates and friendly attitude. “I have some good news and some bad news. Bad news, your flight has been pushed out another 30 minutes to 7:45. Good news is that it is going. In return for your patience I have some snacks at the gate, and we’ll be playing some games for flight vouchers. How does that sound?”

A small cheer went up in the area. Feyre watched the copper-haired girl she had been observing earlier replace her headphones with a relieved sigh.

“Want a snack?” Rhys asked, standing.

She craned her neck to look. It seemed like it was just the little snack mixes they would get on the plane anyway…but she was hungry. “Sure. Thanks.”

Rhys left his jacket and the bottle on his chair. Wise move.

Feyre tried not to stare at him, packing up her sketchbook instead. But after that there wasn’t like there was a lot to do, and she was still treating her phone like a dangerous object.

She watched as Rhys waited in the small crowd, rolling up his sleeves to expose his forearms. He took two packets from the gate agent with a charming smile that almost made Feyre swoon from where she was sitting dozens of feet away.

He turned too quickly for Feyre to pretend she hadn’t been watching him, so she just smiled as he made his way over.

“For you,” he handed over one packet. “The finest the Prythian International has to offer.”

“Why, thank you,” Feyre said, then she ripped open the packet and tossed some pretzels into her mouth. “Ugh, I forget how dry these things are.”

Rhys tipped the bag-and-bottle in her direction. “Can I tempt you?”

A “no” was on the tip of her tongue. But…what was the harm, really? It wasn’t like she’d get drunk off a sip. “Sure.” The vodka wasn’t exactly pleasant going down, but it was better than the shots she’d taken in college.

A slight warmth bloomed in her belly. Feyre munched on the snacks and did not let her eyes wander to where Rhys was eating, not paying attention at all to how big his hands were. They were very nice hands, too. Feyre didn’t think he got them professionally manicured, but he definitely took care of them. Her fingers itched. If anyone were to ask, she would say they itched for a pencil to practice some anatomy sketches.

“All right, passengers of flight 724 to Velaris, anyone out there want some flight vouchers?” The gate agent’s voice was slightly crackly over the speakers. “First question. Who is from out of town and traveled the farthest to get here?”

Not a lot of people at this time of year. Everyone was trying to leave home for vacation. Feyre observed as a few people went up and the winner was declared a researcher in town from Rask.

“Next question. Many songs have been written about Velaris— first person to think of a song with ‘Velaris’ in it and sing it to everyone wins!”

Feyre couldn’t help her laugh. One person’s hand went straight up, and they sang a few bars of a popular old song waxing poetic about the beauty of the coastal city.

“My cousin would have nailed that,” Rhys said. There was a bit of nostalgia, something sad in his eyes. “Of course, she would have been totally off key, but she would have known a song instantly.”

“How ‘bout you?” Feyre asked. “You’re from Velaris.”

“Which means I typically avoid cheesy songs exaggerating its greatness.”

“You don’t think Velaris is one of the greatest cities in the world?” Feyre teased. But it was true— Velaris was a cosmopolitan wonder, a “come here and make your dreams come true” destination. Along with having some killer beaches.

Rhys paused, taking the question more seriously than she had intended. “I actually kind of do.”

“But you’re not looking forward to…what’s waiting for you there.”

Rhys looked down, flattening the empty foil bag and folding it. In the silence, Feyre fumbled for something to say.

“It’s none of my business—”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly. “I mentioned that I wasn’t looking forward to it. I was just…caught off guard.”

“Oh,” she said.

Rhys looked up, smiling wryly. “I had kind of forgotten what it’s like to say something that people actually listen to.”

Feyre felt breathless. “I know what you mean,” she said softly. It should have been illegal for those striking eyes to focus their full intensity on one person. She was nearly melting.

“Okay, flight 724 passengers! I want to know, is there anyone celebrating an anniversary or honeymoon?”

Feyre whipped her head around, staring at the meager entertainment and pretending that was more interesting than holding Rhys’s gaze.

He nudged her with his elbow. “Want a flight voucher?”

“What?” But it was too late. He was already standing, lifting a hand into the air like an eager fifth grader and then— and then! Taking her hand in his and dragging her to the gate.

“What the fuck?” she hissed.

Rhys slapped on his charming smile. “We’re going on our honeymoon.”

“Congratulations!” The gate agent said, not a hint of suspicion in her eyes. Then again, they were mostly focused on Rhys. “Velaris is a wonderful place to vacation.”

An older man ambled up. “Agreed. My wife and I are celebrating our fortieth anniversary.”

Feyre’s face turned red. Oh, she was such an imposter. Not that she agreed to this scheme. But still! “Oh, they win, definitely. I don’t even know if I’ll last another day with him.”

Laughing, Rhys slung an arm around her shoulder. “You’ve lasted this long.”

The old man smiled. He had such kind eyes, Feyre felt bad for being an unwilling participant in the lie. “How long have you two been together?”

“Two years.”

He was looking at Feyre, so she was supposed to answer.

“Five years.”

Rhys was a man, so he probably thought he should answer.

She glared. Great. He decided to rope her into this thing, trying to get a flight voucher he didn’t even need, and now they were going to get publicly humiliated. She was going to be known as a liar to the saintly gate agent. Her photo would be posted in the airline’s internal communications with a warning message.

Rhys smirked. “She doesn’t count the time before we broke up for five months.”

“You are unbelievable,” Feyre said. There was nothing for it; she had to become a full co-conspirator. “I also don’t count the months that we were friends but you assumed we were dating. Newsflash, it’s not a relationship if you never ask a girl out or kiss her.”

He shrugged. “Worked out for me in the end.”

“You two are sweet,” the gate agent said, which was not how Feyre would have responded. “But unfortunately, I can only give one voucher.”

“Please,” Rhys gestured to the older gentleman. “40 years of marriage is a much bigger accomplishment than just getting married.”

The man demurred a bit, but faced with Feyre, Rhys, and the gate agent he finally took the voucher with thanks and wished them well. Rhys ushered Feyre back to their seats, only releasing the arm around her shoulders when they sat.

“You absolute prick.”

“We didn’t even get anything in the end.”

“Why would you do that?”

“To get you a free flight voucher,” he said. “And because…I wanted to indulge my impulses. I had a chance to do something really nice for a pretty girl.”

“Well,” Feyre huffed, crossing her legs. “I’m not sad we didn’t get it, but now we have a problem.”

“What?”

“You feel comfortable sitting in first class and letting your bride sit in economy? What will the gate agent think? And all the passengers who are watching?”

“Shit,” he mumbled. “Where’s your ticket?”

“What?”

“I think they have seats open in first, where’s your ticket?”

“I can’t pay for that!”

He rolled his eyes. “My blunder, my treat. Your ticket, please.”

They stared each other down. Feyre weighed the pros and cons. Pros, she would get to sit in first class, free of charge. Cons, she could be indebted to him. And she would likely have to sit next to him for the entire flight.

Though the jury was still out on whether that was a pro or a con.

“Come on,” Rhys wheedled her. “I don’t want to be known as a dick.”

“Fine.” Feyre handed over her boarding pass. “But don’t give them a hard time if they can’t seat me.”

“Me?” He pressed a hand to his heart. “Feyre darling, you wound me with your accusations.”

“Do not be a rich asshole,” she said, waving him away.

Curious, she watched as Rhys chatted with the agents at the ticket counter. Charming smile, slightly apologetic and sheepish. They chatted for a long time, plenty of frowns and words flying through the air. Finally, Rhys handed over her ticket— and his?-- and took two new ones.

He waved the tickets in the air triumphantly when he returned. “Success! Of a sort.”

Feyre plucked her ticket from his hand. “What is that supposed to mean?” Her name was on the new first class ticket, so that part had gone well at least.

“They didn’t have any more seats in first,” Rhys shrugged. “So I swapped.”

“What?” Feyre gasped. “You didn’t have to do that!”

“Like you said, I would have looked really bad,” he said. “No big deal.”

“No big deal?” Feyre hissed. “You spent hundreds of dollars on that ticket!”

“If you haven’t noticed, darling, I’m a little rich,” Rhys drawled. “I think I’ll take the hit.”

She sputtered. It was on the tip of her tongue that she would repay him back somehow, but she was really in no position to do so. “This is…”

He completed her sentence. “An unexpected treat?”

“Yeah,” she said lamely, looking down at the ticket. It was nice, that was for sure.

It was stupid to be disappointed, because if things had been normal then she wouldn’t have been sitting next to Rhys anyway— but she still mourned the possibility.

The minutes ticked by. Soon, they would board the plane, endure the long flight to Velaris, and then go their separate ways.

And she would never see Rhys again.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #feysand #acotarwritingcircle #feyre archeron #rhysand

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parisian-nicole · 9 months

Text

GarVez Ficlet: I Dream of Garcia

Author: Parisian Nicole

Summary: Luke and Penelope make confessions and have revelations.

*The image of the character Penelope Garcia, I made for entertainment purposes only and to add context to this story. Thank you*

*****

“Babygirl-” The familiar voice could be heard over the phone as Luke Alvez entered the office holding two coffees in a cupholder and a brown paper bag housing 2 oversized fluffy croissants, all from Lunacorn. Over the past six months since Penelope Garcia had officially resumed her duties as a Technical Analyst for the FBI, it had become routine for him to bring some sort of breakfast for them to share in her office before their workday began.

“Oh no, don’t you babygirl me, Derek Morgan!” Garcia hissed into the phone. “If you didn’t want me to do the photo shoot for the MS charity event this year then you shouldn’t have asked me to participate. I’m sorry my photo was so disgusting that it didn’t make the cut.”

“Penelope, you’re way off base. It’s not like that at all,” Morgan replied and Luke could hear Morgan’s irritation and frustration over the line from where he stood rooted at the closed office door not wanting to interrupt their heated conversation. “It’s just that your picture was just…” Morgan began but then abruptly stopped his words.

“Was just what? Tell me, Derek, what’s wrong with my picture?” Garcia questioned and said nothing more to allow him time to further explain, but she only received dead air over the phone. She had already decided in her mind what the issue was and just needed him to validate her thoughts. “I’ve got to go, we just got a new case,” She lied easily.

“Sweetness, please don’t hang up being upset with me about the photo shoot, I swear to you that what I know is swirling around in that beautiful head of yours right now, is not the reason I decided not to use your picture in the fundraiser catalog.”

“Okay, fine, it’s not a big thing, but I really do have to go now. The team needs me,” She lied again.

“Call me later, all right?” Morgan pleaded on the other end.

“Yeah, if I have time,” Garcia said although she had no intention of finding the time because she was so hurt by what she saw as his rejection of her. “Bye,” With that said she quickly used the tip of the pen she had been holding to disconnect their call before he could say more.

“Hey, are you okay?” Luke finally spoke out gently and he could tell by the way she jumped a little in her seat and then hurriedly wiped at the tears in her eyes, that she hadn’t heard him come in. Penelope grasped a napkin from the small dispenser she kept on her desk and dabbed it underneath her glasses at her wet eyes. After a few seconds of fixing her face, she nodded her head, swiveled her chair slightly, and turned to grace him with her big beautiful smile that always created warmth in his chest whenever he saw it.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you for your concern,” Luke just stood there with a scowl on his brows. “Are one of those for me?” She asked as she pointed at the coffee and bag he held. Luke dropped his head a bit, pursed his lips, nodded, and finally moved up beside her to settle the goods on her desk. “I hope you realize that I’m getting very spoiled by all the treats you bring me from Lunacorn,” She proclaimed and he could tell by the look on her face that her mood had already lightened some.

“Well, I get something out of it too,” Luke responded as he pulled over the spare chair that she kept in her office for guests, and took a seat right beside her.

“Yeah, and what did you get yourself today a Bear Claw or Boston Crème?”

“No, today I got us both a croissant, but that’s not what I meant. The something I get out of spoiling you with Lunacorn goodies is I can see how much it makes you happy,” At hearing this Penelope blushed and smiled sweetly at him. “But mostly it’s for that,” He nodded his head toward her. “Your smile, I love to see you smile like that,” His words made her blush even more but she coyly dropped her gaze down to the coffee he had sat in front of her.

“Thank you,” She spoke softly and he wasn’t sure if it was thanks for the drink or his flattering words, but thought likely for both.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Luke offered as he kept his eyes focused on his task of grasping his coffee and then putting the cupholder in the trash bin beside him.

“No … But thank you for asking Luke,” She said with a heavy sigh. “This is something Derek and I have to sort out for ourselves,” Luke nodded his understanding. “But can I ask you something, it’s really important to me that you be honest, and I mean brutally honest. Don’t try and spare my feelings please, I just really need to hear the truth, okay?” He nodded before he answered her.

“Of course, you know you can always ask me anything and I promise I will tell you the truth,” He assured and she gave a curt nod and then reached across her desk and grabbed a large manilla envelope. She opened it, pulled out a picture, and handed it to him. Luke took the picture and as his eyes raked over the image his mouth dropped open, his brows rose high, and his eyes enlarged slightly. After a moment of inspecting every inch of the photo, he closed his mouth, took a gulp, turned the photo over, and settled it face down on top of the desk.

“Oh my God, is it that bad?” Penelope questioned as she pressed her left hand against her chest while fresh tears began to fill her eyes.

“What, No!?!” He exclaimed in a half-croaky, half-squeaky voice as he grasped the picture, turned it back over, and stared at it as if transfixed. “Penelope, you look amazing in this picture,” He confessed his true thoughts and she smiled at his praise. “Muy bonita y caliente! I now understand why Morgan didn’t want to use this.”

“But why? You just said yourself that I look amazingly beautiful and super-duper hot … Okay you didn’t say ‘super-duper hot’ but you’re thinking it,” She said teasingly.

“Yes, I am because you are,” Luke didn’t bother denying it and his words brought the deep blush back across her cheeks and neck. “Chica, Morgan didn’t want to publish this picture and have every guy who sees it getting hard-ons and jacking off to it. The thought of that happening would drive him crazy, hell, it drives me crazy.”

“Why?” Penelope asked curious to see if he would tell her.

“Well, for Morgan it would be like having men drooling over one of his sisters, and as a big brother myself I can tell you we never, ever want to see or know that,” Luke said with a frown as a mild shiver ran through him.

“And is it the same for you?” She questioned further and her words made him lock his eyes onto hers.

“No, it’s a different feeling for me because I don’t think of you in a sisterly way. I fall in the category of one of the men that Morgan doesn’t want to ever see this picture. And I don’t want other guys seeing it because the thought of another guy seeing you like this makes me insanely jealous. It would feel like they were stealing my dreams.”

“Oh, you dream about me like ‘this’?” She asked him though she already suspected as much what with the way she’d often catch him staring at her body with a hungry carnal gleam in his eyes whenever they were alone together and he thought she wasn’t paying attention to him.

“C’mon Penelope, I think you know very well by now that I like you beyond our platonic relationship, but I understand and totally respect the fact that you don’t like me like that,” This had her bunching her brows and widening her eyes in confusion.

“Who the hell told you that?” She questioned slightly angered by the thought of someone telling lies about her. The truth was she had been attracted to Luke Alvez from the second she had met him, but the hurt from losing Derek and her bitterness toward Luke ‘replacing’ him overshadowed her other feelings.

“Uhm, you did,” Luke answered and this made her entire face scrunch up in confusion. “On our date where you basically told me that there was ‘someone’ out there for me but that someone wasn’t you, remember?”

“Oh, Newbie,” She groaned slightly as she briefly closed her eyes and let her head fall back against her chair. She then focused back onto his now confused face. “I didn’t mean that, that was just me letting you off the hook and protecting my feelings. I mean, from the second you sat down at the table you looked horrified, like you realized that you made this humungous mistake and you wanted to run out the door screaming. I just reacted instinctively and told you I wasn’t interested to put you more at ease and to spare myself from having to hear you make up some excuse to leave me there all alone. I’ve been there and done that enough times to know the signs, and after I said that you did relax and we had a fun evening, right?

“Chica, what you saw as me being ‘horrified’ was me being nervous and scared that I might say or do the wrong thing. The woman who had occupied my thoughts for years had agreed to go on a date with me and I didn’t want to fuck it up. It’s funny that you thought I had regrets and didn’t want to be there because that’s what I was reading off of your demeanor too.”

“What? No way, I was surprised but so very happy when you asked me out. It was like a dream come true,” Penelope confessed.

“Oh, so you dream about me too, huh?” Luke teased with a smile which she matched.

“Don’t let it go to your head Newbie.”

“Too late,” He replied with a chuckle and she giggled in turn, then the room grew silent for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Maybe we should have a do-over, you know go on another date.”

“Yeah,” She agreed.

“Yeah?” He asked to make sure and she smiled sweetly at him and eagerly nodded her head.

“Yes, I’d like that very much, Luke,” She confirmed which caused him to become filled with excitement and elation.

“Great, so how about this Friday at 8, I’ll pick you up?”

“Okay,” She replied and this made him smile wide. “So, would you like to keep it,” She tossed on and he wasn’t sure what she meant until she nodded at the picture he still held in his hand. “It’s the only copy, but you can have it if you want.”

“Would you think I was a big creep if I said yes?” He questioned and she smiled and shook her head as she reached over and took the picture from his hands. She then moved her left hand to the unicorn mug that housed her many pens, grasped a silver marker, and began to write something on the bottom of the picture. When she was done, she handed the picture back to him, casually picked up her coffee, and turned her chair to face straight ahead as she sipped her drink. Luke focused on her writing, read her words, and smiled so big all of his teeth showed. He then carefully placed the picture back inside the manilla envelope and sat it to the side so he wouldn’t forget it. He then opened the paper bag and pulled out their croissants, placed one in front of Penelope and one in front of himself, and finally grasped his coffee and began drinking it. Both finished their breakfast in a comfortable silence as they thought about what the future had in store for them.

The End.

#criminal minds evolution #garvez fanfiction #garvez #luke alvez #penelope garcia #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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