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marleyybluu · 1 year

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Another Man's Treasure

Oscar Diaz x f!reader

Word count: 6.8k (I am so sorry lmao)

Warnings: 18+, shitty husband, smut, p in v, unprotected (but pls don't be this stupid), creampie, dirty talk, cheating (but is it really if your husband is an ass), flirting, fluff, love at first sight type shit, Spanish/English pet names (pretty lady, hermosa, cariño), limited use of y/n(I literally used it once) idk lmk if I missed any.

(I only mention the first song but the other two are more for the… spicy scene😏)

——

The only escape from reality you had was the small moments of disassociation you had between the screaming of your children and the-

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

The shouting of your overgrown child of a husband playing his stupid games on his stupid PS5 that you wanted to set on fucking fire. This is not the life you pictured as a stay-at-home mom, yes the piles of dirty laundry were expected, and the mountainous dishes in the sink but you never predicted you'd be doing this alone. Your own mother stayed at home with you and your two brothers but your dad would still help her around the house so that she got the time to kick her feet up and relax.

You never got that.

You were living with this dark cloud over your head and deep regrets in your mind, why did you marry this man? You did think he was the love of your life, three years together before you got married proved your theory but never did you think it was going to end up like this. The amount of work you did was overwhelming, just one look at the number of toys on the floor made tears sting your eyes. You were tired, exhausted, drained and absolutely depleted.

If this was a job, you'd quit, you would take your children and quit. You wanted to so badly but the small hope of him changing clung to you like a piece of lint. You sighed holding your eleven-month-old on your hip while you made him a bottle, anything to keep him from wailing in your ears-- Jesus, half the time you couldn't hear.

"Babe!"

Your eyes rolled, you loathed his voice at this point. "What?"

"Can you pass me a water bottle?"

"Get up and get it, I'm making Malakai a bottle."

He groaned. "For fuck sake, you're in the kitchen already."

Your nostrils flared, and your eye twitched. You wanted to cuss at him, shout at him until your voice box shattered but you kept whatever calm you had left and ignored him. A small hand landed on your nose and you smiled kissing the tiny palm. "I love you too bubba."

He flashed a little smile and your heart sobbed at the fact that your last baby was growing so fast, teeth already emerging from his gums when just months ago he didn't have any. You could never regret your three little creatures, you loved them dearly, so much so you were willing to put up with the man that helped you create them just so they could have a two-parent household but you didn't know how much longer you could take this.

Heavy footsteps trailed inside the kitchen, you could tell he was angry at the fact that he had to pause his little game just to grab some water. He looked over the sink, utterly disgusted by the site in front of him and instead of just keeping his mouth shut or for once volunteering to do them he decided to spit out a sentence that made you want to knock his head off with the glass bottle you were holding; "You need to wash the dishes."

Your blood was boiling, if life was a cartoon you'd have steam coming out of your ears. "Why don't you get off of the game and do them?" You bit.

He cracked open the bottle cap. "Hey, I'm the one that works all week, you just stay home and do nothing."

Nothing? NOTHING!?

That was it.

That was the tip of the iceberg.

Your shoulders dropped and he left the kitchen, there was that ringing in your ears again that came and went every time you zoned out. Ever since you got married you'd felt nothing but unappreciated by him, you quit your job to stay home with your children and not even a thank you, you made sure he had a good meal when he went to work and all you got in return was an "it was okay." And the disgustingly dirty dish tossed right in the sink you'd just emptied. You were at the end of your rope.

You held back your tears and lightly kissed your son on his head handing him his bottle and putting him on a beam bag so he could lay down and drink. You trotted upstairs to check in on your oldest twins who were in their room colouring and getting along for once. Then you headed to the bathroom locking the door behind you, your body sliding down to the floor, you curled up in a ball burying your head between your knees you let out a long and heavy sigh before your river of tears took over.

A cry session your body and mind were so used to. You wailed into the void, muffling your weeps so that your children wouldn't hear you and come asking what was wrong, a question you couldn't answer without them turning on their father and you didn't want to ruin that relationship they had with him.

You were just so tired.

As night fell you remained mute when it came to your husband, whatever he had to say you didn't respond to, you were just happy that it was Sunday and soon he'd be out of your face for a few hours.

With the kids all asleep you were in the kitchen on FaceTime with your older brother. "The kids are great, they're sleeping." You conversed.

"And how have you been?"

There was no hiding how you felt when it came to your siblings, you were the baby and the only girl so when you were hurt they knew and they'd do whatever they could to fix it. "I'm okay... I'll be okay." You reassured. He was the only one who knew some small details about what you were going through and you begged him not to say anything not even to your mother until you figured out how to deal with everything yourself.

"Hey, listen, Jordyn is going on vacation next week, she's hitting Fiji, and I think you should go with her."

You squinched up your face, you didn't have a problem with your brother's wife, always so thankful for the sister you never got but what about your kids? Could you even trust that man to take over your duties even for a day?

As if he read your mind he continued. "I mean it'll be summer break next week, and they can stay by me if you want. I just, I really think you need time away from life. I want to see my little sister happy."

You pouted, it really touched your heart how concerned he was. A vacation would be wonderful, it was all you could dream of after the kids were born, you loved them but you just wanted to be by yourself.

"I'll think about it."

"Well, don't think too hard." He joked. "Whatever. I gotta get their lunches together, I'll call you when I make my decision."

"Sounds good, night."

"Night."

The call ended and you finished packing the twins' lunch placing the bags on the only empty spot on the counter. You huffed at the dishes and your husband's words replayed in your head. Nothing. You do absolutely nothing.

The longer you stared a vengeful plan began to brew. You were about to show him what doing nothing meant.

You decided you were going on that trip, Jordyn was excited and your brother was happy with your choice. The week flew by quickly, you kept up your normal appearance of keeping the house clean and to your husband's liking and by each day you grew more distant from him not like he cared in the first place.

On the last day of school you explained to the twins that you were taking a trip with Aunty Jordyn and they, unfortunately, couldn't come but they'd be staying with their uncle and they'd loved that man to death so they were excited either way. Your house was a mess and for once you smiled at it, you'd been letting everything pile up for the last two days, packing the clean clothes they did have in advance. The only explanation you gave your husband was that they were all staying by your brother for the week but you didn't mention that you weren't coming back.

You were leaving tonight and there would be no stopping you. You loaded the van with their stuff and yours and hollered for them to get their little butts in the car. "Last one in the car has stinky feet!" You laughed at the building volume of stomping feet coming across the hall and down the stairs, your twins were out and your youngest sat on your hip giggling at their antics. You happily wrote a short note.

Bye.

That's it.

You showered your baby in kisses and grabbed your keys before heading out the door, you locked it and made your way to the car, buckling in your baby and making sure the other two were in securely. You closed the door and first time in a long time you felt a weight off your shoulders, you smiled in satisfaction at how you left the house knowing you were not going to answer a single phone call from that man.

Jordyn squealed. "Ugh! I am so excited I don't even know what to do with myself!" You laughed at her enthusiasm as you put your hair up in a ponytail. It was day 2 of your trip and you were living life, you couldn't remember the last time you felt this relaxed. Now, of course, you missed your children it'd been the longest you'd ever been apart from them so you were a bit clingy with the calls but it was all understandable.

You two were hitting the beach today and you were a bit nervous, nobody had seen your body in almost a year not even your husband but Jordyn had persuaded you to find your behind in a two-piece bikini and you argued that you'd wear it as long as you could wear a cover-up so it was a deal. You looked yourself over in the mirror, you felt oddly confident. You looked fucking good. Three kids did your body right.

"You sure you want that cover-up?" She teased watching you admire yourself. "Hmm," You angled your lower half so you could check out your bum, how plump it had become over the years. "Maybe not."

She winked. "That's my girl."

You two grabbed what you needed and headed down to the beach which was right in front of the hotel you were staying at. The slight wind brushed against the water sending a cool and comforting breeze your way, your ears wiggled at the sound of the waves, and the giggles of other vacationers enjoying their time like you were.

The cushiony sand had greeted your toes after overflowing onto your sandals. You two travelled until you found a decent spot, it was close to the bar and the body of water. You set up your area as best as you could but you were in a battle with the beach umbrella Jordyn insisted on bringing. She watched with her hand covering her mouth to camouflage her laughter. "Okay, you know what, I'll handle this and you go handle us some drinks."

You childishly stuck out your tongue and strutted your way over to the bar, you hopped on an available stool. The bartender noticed you asking for you to just give him a minute. "No worries." You responded. You went on your phone and checked the many pictures your brother sent of your children, you smiled and a bit of sadness tugged at your heart. You missed your babies dearly.

The number of messages went up and it could only be one person. You promised you wouldn't look but you just had to, you swiped and tapped on your husband's name.

Where the fuck are you!?

The house is a fucking mess!

I'm not cleaning up, I hope you know that.

Baby, come on, we can work this out. Please.

You scoffed at the last message and put your phone down casually being greeted by the bartender who watched your various emotions while you went through your phone. "Everything's okay?"

Oh. Wow.

He presented a sweet smile, your eyes slightly widening at the sight in front of you. He was handsome, scratch that, he was fine as fuck. The shaved head didn't usually work on a lot of men but it did him justice, the scattered tattoos on his pretty and tanned skin, his broad shoulders that looked like they were made for legs to be hooked on and not to mention his big arms that looked like they could hold you snug and tight all through the night.

"Uh, yeah, everything's... everything is good." You stammered, a queasy feeling crept through you as it settled in your lower stomach. Butterflies? But you couldn't even remember what that felt like in order to come to that conclusion.

"Good to know. What can I get you, ma?"

You shuddered at his voice. He could talk to you all day.

"One Long Island, and one Piña Colada please."

He nodded. "Starting off slow I see." He chuckled. "Eh, we're on vacation, gotta soak it all up before we go back."

"I see," He multitasked making your drinks and conversing. "And when does the pretty lady go back?"

You blushed, should you even tell this literal stranger when you're actually leaving? But he felt... comfortable, easy to talk to and it's not like you'd ever see him again. "End of the week."

"Oh, you have plenty of time to get shit-faced." He encouraged. He'd finished your order and placed the liquored-down drinks in front of you. "Don't worry about paying yeah? It's on the house. Enjoy your vacation pretty lady."

"Y/n... you could just call me Y/n."

Not like you wanted him to, pretty lady was working just fine

"Nice to meet you. Oscar... Diaz." He winked. "Thanks, for the drinks."

"Anytime, pretty lady."

Your legs felt wonky as you walked away, and your breathing quickened. You did your best to walk back to Jordyn without looking back, if you did you were pretty sure you'd fall, just clumsy as fuck. "Girl, that man was watching you walk away." She whispered. "Stop." You poked, shoving her drink toward her. "Oh please, his eyes were on you." Jordyn gazed over to the bar, "He's still staring."

You casually whipped your head around and sucked your teeth when you noticed he wasn't. You glared at her. She snickered taking a sip from her Long Island. "Makes good drinks too."

You sighed, "Shut up."

The topic was silenced, you downed a few more drinks but sent Jordyn to get them instead while you swam around in the cooling water, floating around enjoying the peace the water brought you. But you couldn't help but occasionally look over to the bar. Oscar Diaz... nice name. Nice face. Cute little moustache that sat above his lips and a goatee that sat below. Pretty rosy pink lips...

Your eyes darted away. You're married.

Are you though?

You swam back up to the beach, it was beginning to get dark and the patrons on the beach became scarce. You wrapped yourself in a towel and collected anything Jordyn hadn't packed up yet. "You want one more drink before they close up? Maybe your new friend will allow it." She teased. You took off your flip-flop and threw it at her but your reaction only made her laugh.

A familiar voice was heard behind you. "So she's beautiful and she's got good aim, better watch out."

You quietly gasped. "Hi... Oscar."

"Hey, uhm, listen I own a club not too far from here and you know it's a decent hangout for the locals... and the visitors." He winked. "Wanted to know if you two would like to come check it out?"

You fought back a smile. "We could try." You answer without even thinking. "I'll take that," He reached into his pocket handing you a folded piece of paper, you assumed had the address of the place he owned. Your fingers brushed against his, prickles felt like they were forming on your skin and those weird feelings returned in your lower stomach.

He sent you another wink and headed back off to the bar to close up.

Of course, Jordyn was down to go. You groaned internally as you two pulled up to a crowded place, looking up at the illuminated sign reading Cloud 9. Hmm, cute. You pulled down your dress as it rose up with each step, your heels clicking against the cold ground, the music booming so loud you could feel your body vibrating the closer you got to the entrance, flashing lights of different colours beamed through the door every time it opened blinding whoever entered. "Where's your friend?" Jordyn asked. "Have patience, I just told him we got here."

"Mhm." She sassed. Your heart thumped in your ears, it pounded against your chest. What were you doing? It was a question you asked yourself from the moment you got back to your room and began to get ready for tonight. You shook off your thoughts and shifted your eyes over to a black door that slowly began to open. "Hey, over here." Oscar waved you two over and you followed. "What's going on, pretty lady?... And pretty lady's friend."

Jordyn nodded at him as a silent greeting, she was just here to observe your anxious behaviour for her entertainment. "Come on," You followed him through a dimly lit hallway and up a flight of stairs, your nerves building and sudden regret forming in your bones until you entered a brighter atmosphere, the loud music returning to your eardrums. He had led you two to a section that only had a few people, you could assume it was the VIP section.

"Anything you two want to drink just let me know and I got you."

Jordyn raised her eyebrows at the tempting bottle of unopened champagne sitting in a bucket of ice. Oscar chuckled granting her permission to open it, she shimmied her shoulders in excitement and got to work. You shook your head at her, you travelled over to the balcony and looks down at all the patrons having the time of their lives, a few familiar faces from the resort and others that weren't recognizable which you could only assume were locals.

Oscar found his place beside you and nudged your shoulder with his. "You want anything to drink?"

"No, not yet, I'm good."

He slowly nodded. "So, what are you doing in Fiji? Besides vacationing."

You huffed, "I just needed time to myself... to get away from shit."

"I hear that." You could just feel those sweet and curious brown eyes boring into the side of your head, you poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue and looked down at your shoes, just anything to not make eye contact with him. You were shy, you were never shy not even with your husband when you first met him. It's like this was a new feeling, you were queasy and nervous and it honestly felt good in a weird way-- it felt good to not be comfortable, to get all flustered over someone like a schoolgirl crush.

"You really own this place?"

He scrunched up his face. "Half own, I guess. My brother and I came here for an escape just like you and we ended up staying. Now, we own Cloud Nine and I work down at the resort once in a while."

"Oh, you're a busy man."

"I try to be." Oscar chuckled. He was so easy to talk to, why was he so easy to talk to?

You found yourself moving a bit closer. "What were you trying to escape from?"

"Life. I wasn't happy where I was living and I wanted better but... given the circumstances, we just couldn't get it. So I threw a dart on a map, so to speak, it landed on Fiji and we've been here ever since."

"Where are you from then?"

"Originally born in Mexico, we moved to LA, and then out here."

"Would you ever go back to the States?" You asked finally looking up at him knowing he hadn't taken his eyes off you all night. He leaned forward, officially entering your bubble. "If I had a good enough reason... yeah."

You looked up at him through your lashes and softly smiled, meanwhile, Jordyn sat on the couch sipping and shaking her head at the sight in front of her. She would playfully scold you in the morning but tonight she'd let you have your harmless fun.

As the party went on you were getting a bit bored being upstairs so you grabbed your girl and headed downstairs to where the crowd was and of course Oscar was right behind you, he felt a sense of protection over you two tonight given this was your first time out here and inside his establishment. You had found enough confidence to start dancing around, a little two-step from left to right to get you going, but soon the constant flow of drinks Jordyn handed you helped you loosen out of that as well.

The DJ was beginning to play all the oldies, and that was your specialty. Oscar watched in adornment as you killed every lyric, every adlib and every beat to whichever song came on. It had transitioned from a bit of Hip-hop to something a lot slower.

"Right now, we're gonna slow it down a bit, so grab your lovers and take your time."

The lights changed to blue and a recognizable first note had you close your eyes.

Mmm ooooh, my my my my my my my babyyy ouuuuuu

Jordyn had already found herself dancing with a random woman. She looked widened her eyes at you and quickly flicked them over to Oscar, trying her best to encourage you to make your move. But he was faster. You felt yourself being pulled into his warm embrace, his strong chest against your exposed back, his hands carefully snaking around your waist as if he was worried about you rejecting his touch but you gladly welcomed it.

Melting into his hold you two swayed side to side, he leaned down comfortably nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. You were lost in the vibes of Keith Sweat's Right and a Wrong Way. You reached back hooking your arm around his neck lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. "You smell so good, mamita." He whispered, it was a miracle that you heard him. Your lips parted slightly as you felt his warm breath tickle your skin. His swift hands ran up your sides resting right under your breasts and gliding back down to your hips.

A thumping began between your thighs, now that was something you hadn't felt in a long time. You put that feeling to the side no matter how hard it was to do so. The rest of the night it felt like all the songs were targeted for just you two, you hadn't eased up on him once-- always in close proximity to him. He touched you in simple ways, ways you hadn't been touched in almost a year.

It was getting super late, almost three in the morning and you couldn't recall the last time you were out like this, it'd give you hell when you woke up but it was worth it. You and Jordyn rode back to the resort with Oscar, she exited the car first thanking him for the night out and wobbling her way inside. You giggled watching her walk away, "I should get in there before she tries the key on the wrong room."

But you didn't want to leave him.

And he didn't want to leave you.

"Thanks for tonight, I had a lot of fun."

"No problem, anything to help a pretty lady escape." He bit his lip. "What are your plans for tomorrow?"

"Recovering," You laughed, "But other than that nothing."

"Can I see you again?"

You gulped and nodded. "Mhm."

He laid out his palm your eyebrows furrowed as you rested yours on top of his, he brought the back of your hand to his lips and placed such a gentle kiss on your skin. "Goodnight, mamita."

You wanted to scream. You left the car putting a little swing in your hips as you walked away, you looked over your shoulder and sent him a cute little wave before disappearing behind the doors.

— —

And that's how you spent the rest of your trip, shamelessly flirting with Oscar. You got to know each other a lot more, when you weren't spending time with Jordyn you were with him. Giggling like an airhead and blushing red like Rudolph's nose.

Jordyn constantly teases you about the crush you'd seem to quickly develop.

"Is this stupid?" You ask shoving your face in the pillow. This all felt too good to be fucking true, a guy that you met only four days ago was treating you so much better than the man you married four years ago. Oscar had flowers for you at the front desk of the resort every morning and sent you the sweetest messages throughout the day about how he was thinking of you, how he caught a glimpse of you today and you looked stunning, calling you the prettiest woman he'd ever seen step on this island.

You convinced yourself they were all lies, sugarcoating you like he probably did every woman but who were you fooling? Certainly not yourself and certainly not Jordyn.

"It's not."

"I'm married." You argued tiredly to which she fake yawned. "I don't see a ring on that finger and I don't see that man treating you any better than Oscar has. Just saying."

The fingers on your right hand brushed your vacant ring finger, you'd taken it off the minute you got on the plane, you didn't want to be reminded of him on this trip at all and yet there was that piece in the back of your mind that reached out to him. Checking his messages once in a while but never responding, he was giving you the attention you wanted but it didn't feel right.

The fact that you had to spontaneously leave to get even a fraction of what you were asking for was bullshit. Downright bullshit.

You groaned sitting up the pads of your fingers now rubbing your temples, tired and stressed. The trip was almost over and you dreaded going back to that house that was no longer a home. He'd sent you pictures that he'd finally cleaned up but you had a feeling once you returned home things would go back to the way they were and you did not want that.

"I think your brother would agree with me, you've smiled more in these past few days than I've seen back home, I mean you two are always so distant when you come over. And don't think I don't hear your rants when you and your brother are on the phone. Now I don't condone cheating but, hey, I didn't see shit."

You sighed checking your phone for any recent texts from your husband but Jordyn caught wind of what you were doing and snatched your device. "Enough with him. Flirt and have fun before you have to go back to normalcy."

You heard your phone buzz in her hand, she looked at the message for you. "Speaking of, someone is downstairs."

You felt nauseous. "Where are you two going anyway?"

"Down to the beach, said he has to restock the bar... and I wanted to spend time with him so I offered to help."

"Mhm." She winked. You grabbed your phone back from her grasp and told her you'd be back soon. You left your room, entered the elevator and headed downstairs where Oscar was happily waiting for you. "Hola querida." He become more comfortable speaking Spanish around you, especially when he noticed how the little nicknames got a reaction out of you.

"Hi," Oscar noticed the shaky tone in your response and made note of it You had comfortably slipped your hand inside his, he immediately hooked his fingers in the spaces of yours. Like he was your puzzle piece.

You two headed down to the decent-sized Hut, your eyes widened at the number of boxes sitting on the sand. "Don't worry, I got the heavy bottles, you just get the small ones." He reassured pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You loved those, so innocent and sweet, although you wish sometimes he'd kiss you on your lips or you had to courage to kiss his. "Think I can't handle the big boxes?" You scoffed walking inside after him.

"I think you can, I just don't think my pretty lady needs to."

My pretty lady.

ugh!

With music playing in the background you two got to work, "Do you still think about running your own restaurant?" You asked sparking a conversation, you squatted down to the lower shelves and propped the glass bottles in an organized fashion, eyes tearing through the material of your sundress and you could feel them. "I do, yeah. Why?"

You bit your lip. "Would it still be down here?"

There was a beat of silence. "Most likely."

Another pause in the moment aside from your soft humming to the music. "You excited to see your kids?" He asked. You smiled at the mere thought of them. "I am. My three little headaches." Oscar found himself next to you, leaning against the counter, you stopped your movements and looked up-- he had one arm folded over the other and a bit of a scowl on his face.

"What?" You innocently question standing up to match his eye line, well more-like chest line. "Nothing, just trying to take my time to remember this face." He reached for your cheek, his fingers ghosting your flesh. "You flirt like this with all the girls here?"

A question that was supposed to come out jokingly but you were a bit serious. "Nah," You squinted at him watching his lips press together, his chest stuttering as he held back a laugh. "You asshole, I knew it." A dramatic hand to your heart as you playfully pouted at him and fake cried. Oscar's arms enveloped you in their warmth, you attempted to push him off but it was no use, your feet suddenly off the ground, you squealed and giggled as he switched positions with you plopping you on top of the counter.

He placed his palms flat on the side of your thighs while he was positioned comfortably between them. "To be fair, hermosa, it is kind of my job. But believe me when I say I've never spent any time with them. And I've definitely never brought them back here after hours." His thumb and pointer finger pinching your chin. "Just you, princesa."

You melted, your whole body could be seen physically slumping in his hold. His eyes sparkled while he looked at you, the crinkles in his eyes appearing as he smirked. Before you could comprehend anything his lips brushed yours, your head suddenly becoming foggy with the inappropriate images of him that you'd conjured up these past few days.

His nimble fingers danced along the hem of your dress, a rush of heat passing over you as he hiked it up further exposing more of your flesh.

This was no longer a want... it was a need.

Your hands landed right under his jaw as you pulled him in crashing your lips onto his and he happily reciprocated your energy, his hands wandered up to your hips tugging you closer to him as if it were possible. Your lips moved as one, tongues passing by in the heat of the moment, the only thing on your mind was him and you wanted it to remain so for as long as possible.

Tingles scattered around your body, both of you flushed with lust and arousal. Your hands travelled to the bottom of his shirt quietly begging for him to take it off, you needed to feel his skin, thankfully he got the message-- pulling away for a brief moment to remove his top. Your eyes glazed over his lightly tanned skin, little scars here and there you can only presume he earned before he got here.

You smiled at the strewed ink on his torso, chest and ribs. "What are you thinking about?" He inquired. You looked back up into his brown iris'. "I wish I had met you first." You mumbled drawing him back down, this kiss was a lot more passionate and slow unlike the first.

Oscar's hands gently tugged at the neckline of your dress, your breasts spilling over and his calloused hands finding them. You softly moaned against his lips, your nipples hardening from the cool breeze and his fondling. He pinched and rolled them between his fingers, your head tipped back and his teeth nipped at the column of your neck.

You were forming a small pool in your panties at his teasing. His tongue grazed your neck continuously licking and sucking a specific spot that was getting a squirming reaction out of you. You felt his devilish smile, he knew what he was doing to you and he liked it.

His hands moved from torturing your swollen breasts back down to your thighs shoving your dress up until your little black panties were on display. You sat on the edge of the counter making it a bit easier for him to remove them, the cool air hitting your soaking slit.

"Touch me, please, touch me." You whined not caring about how desperate and needy you sounded. Oscar listened to your pleas and dipped one hand between your legs, his fingers quickly finding your slick folds. You shuddered as he glided two fingers up and down, dipping them inside you once in a while.

You were soaking, you were throbbing, and you just wanted him inside you where he fucking belonged. He slowly plunged his fingers inside, you clench around them happy to have something pleasuring you. Your eyes are closed and your legs spread further for him, nails digging into his shoulder blade hopefully leaving little indents.

He pumped them in and out of you with the squidgy noise of your wetness to follow. "Yes... oh yes, like that."

Oscar felt himself twitch under his boxers using his other hand to undo his belt and pulled down his materials. His dick is hard and his tip a rosy pink turning cherry red oozing with a bit of cream, his hips buckled once his hand brushed over it-- equally as desperate as you were. Your erotic moans were like music to his ears, so much sexier than he could've pictured. You whined once he removed them your hole flexing around nothing as you caught your breath.

Oscar hooked your legs over his arms spreading you to his desire, you reached between your bodies firmly (but not too tight) grasping his length and guiding it to your entrance, his swollen head prodding inside you as the rest of him followed.

Your jaw slacked at the feeling of him deliciously stretching you out, he was so thick and it felt so nice. Oscar croaked out a moan while burying himself deep inside your warmth-- coating his dick with your sticky walls, so slick and welcoming that he didn't want to move.

You caressed the back of his neck as he pressed another kiss on yours, trailing it up the side and finally landing on your mouth. You giggled into the kiss, Oscar pulled back with a questioning look. "I can't tell the last time I felt like this." You mumbled under your breath but he heard you. He didn't want you to leave, hell if you didn't have kids he'd probably try to convince you to move out here with him.

He didn't say anything in response just pulled out and pushed back in. "Fuck." You both moaned.

His head dipped back down, nibbling on your sweet skin.

You whimpered through every tantalizing stroke he gave you, his tip poking right at your hot spot and you knew you wouldn't last. "You feel so good!" A sentence broken by little gasps. Oscar grunted, violently gripping your thighs as he pounded you, pulling the filthiest sounds from your pretty little throat. So loud and erotic he was sure they could hear you back at the resort.

Your eyes squeeze in absolute bliss, your head hazy from the constant pleasure you received, quickly feeling a sensation in your lower belly a wave of heat threatening to take over. Your palm lay flat on his back while the other gripped the edge of the counter.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oscar!"

He lifted you off the counter a bit, relentlessly slamming into you now. Your high getting closer and closer. "I can, shit, I can feel you mamita. So fucking tight."

Your toes curled and your eyes rolled. "Baby, ohhh, I need to..."

Oscar smiled. "You wanna cum for me, baby? Come, mi amor, all of it."

His words tipped you off the edge, your back arched and your body trembled from the shockwaves of your orgasm, he held you closely revelling in your pulsating pussy dripping down his shaft.

He quickly brought you off the countertop, your wobbly legs barely holding your support. He turned you around, you barely recovered from the first position.

You were sensitive and extra wet just how he wanted you. You flinched when he pressed himself against your entrance once again, pushing in ever so carefully. "Fuck... you."

He laughed menacingly, his hands squeezing your hips. "That's what I'm doin' pretty lady."

You wanted to give him a smart-ass answer but it was cut short when he began to move. Your nipples were hard against the surface, you rested your head down and whined. "So fucking good."

"Yeah?" He chuckled spanking you. He was enjoying the pornographic sounds that you provided, all going straight to his dick.

He wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you up against him, back pressed on his chest, his warm breath in your ear. "Can't get enough of you I swear." He admitted.

He poked and prodded against that familiar spot, tears of overwhelming pleasure threatening to spill when he pinched your nipple. "Fuck! I'm gonna miss you, so fucking much."

"You gonna think about me?"

"Yes! Oh!"

You felt him twitch inside you, you smiled egging him on. "I won't stop thinking about you, when I touch myself I'll picture it's you-"

"Fuck, cariño,"

"Ou, you're the only one I want inside me."

You convulsed around him feeling another orgasm quickly building and getting ready to fall apart. A few more thrusts and Oscar held himself still inside you, your body shivering at the warm cream he just spilled inside you. His high triggering yours. You reached behind hooking your arm around his now sweaty neck.

The sound of the wind against the water and the waves crashing describe exactly how you felt right now.

"Oh... my god." You said breathlessly.

"You're okay?" He asked with a laugh. You giggled tipping your head back on to his shoulder. "Better than okay."

He sighed kissing your back. "I meant it..." You said.

"What?"

"I'm gonna miss you."

He smiled sheepishly. "I'll miss you too."

Those moments replayed in your head constantly, it was the only thing getting you by once you came back home. You two still talked every day, called and FaceTimed but it wasn't enough. You would stare at the prices of tickets and sigh, you couldn't afford to go back right now.

Your life was the same, unloved and unappreciated, despite the embarrassingly desperate messages your husband had sent when you were on your trip. You stared at another pile of dishes, your shoulder sinking with exhaustion. With your two older ones at school and your son almost an hour into his nap you decided to just relax. You clicked on Netflix and attempted to finish Bridgerton's, Queen Charlotte.

Your eyelids felt heavy, sleep threatened to take over but the doorbell had them shoot open. It wasn't just one ring it was multiple and it was annoying so you assumed it was your brother. You groaned trudging to the door. You swung it open aggressively, ready to give him a piece of your mind. "You're going to wake-"

There he was. Standing in front of you, on your doorstep... at your house. "O-Oscar..." You poked his chest to see if he was really there. "Said I'd come back when I have a good reason." Your eyes softened, your arms reaching for him. His lips immediately find yours. "I," kiss, "fucking," kiss "missed you."

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he stepped inside closing the door. He carried you over to the couch and plopped you on the cushions. You laughed, your mood immediately changing with him around. "Jordyn told you where I lived didn't she?"

He nodded. You rolled your eyes. "Of course."

"Not happy to see me?"

You pulled him down for another kiss.

"Beyond happy."

I was going to wait until the weekend to post this but I am a little too excited to get this out.

Shoutout to my girl @darqchilddaydreamz for her input on a few things and her encouragement. Holdin it down ✊🏾

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, comments and reblogs are appreciated.

Alsooooo thank you for 800 followers, yall cool as fuck thanks for fucking with me and my antics.

Peace and love see you in the next one✌🏾

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @skyesthebomb @realhotgurlshit

#Spotify #oscar diaz #spooky #spooky x reader #oscar diaz x fem!reader #spooky fanfic #spooky fanfiction #on my block fanfic #on my block #on my block fanfiction #smut #oscar diaz smut #marleywrites #marleysfanfictions

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rey-129-fan · 17 days

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Gotham-Amity Co-op AU Part 3

Part 1 | Previous | Next

“Hola beauties, and welcome back to Fashionable History, I’m Paulina,”

“And I’m Star, and on this channel, we teach you how to be at the height of fashion, no matter what time period you find yourself in.”

“Now for our long-time viewers who missed our community posts, you might be wondering about the change in location. Well, we are moving up in the world. That’s right, fam, we are officially-

“College girlies!” The two shouted into the camera.

“Ah, such a big step,” ‘Star’ sighed.

“Indeed it is. And to celebrate, let us dress up like we’re going to meet the queen of fashion herself: Marie Antoinette!”

***

“So you would think it would be hard to demonstrate Amity Park’s weirdness while no longer living there, but you would be wrong,” a black man said into the camera while walking down a hallway, his glasses fallen ever so slightly down his nose. There were voices in the background progressively getting louder. “You see, Danny’s mentor popped by this morning, and apparently, he decided that the perfect way to tutor Danny and piss off his bosses at the same time was to allow a bunch of college kids to summon a historical figure of their choosing to discuss their area of expertise. Once a week.

“Jazz got to go first.”

The black man stopped in a doorway. Much clearer in the background was a woman’s even voice. “And Jazz, being the future psychologist that she is, picked the most sex-obsessed man in history.”

The camera flipped to show a young red-head sitting across an older man with a white beard in a blue three piece suit. In the background was a younger man, his blue eyes glazed over as he sat there sipping from his mug, his head of black hair bobbing as he fought to stay awake. Really, it wouldn’t gather a second glance, except for the tiny detail that the older man’s skin was as green as a sunburnt person’s was red.

“-indeed homosexuality is not an illness, and in fact the only link between it and mental health has been observed to be caused by familial and community reactions.”

“That is good to hear. Indeed, many people throughout history were homosexual, and a lot of them did not show any other signs of mental illnesses.”

“It is. However, with the recent pushes for public acceptance of those not heterosexual, many have come forward with sexual orientations beyond just hetero and homosexuality, including those that are attracted to both men and women at the same time, as well as those who experience no sexual attraction or are completely repulsed by the idea of anything sexual.”

The camera flipped back to the first man. “She is explaining how psychology has developed in the last 100 years without trying to rip apart Freud’s work.

“This isn’t even the first time something like this has happened. Occasionally, we’d get guest speakers that would turn out to be some famous author or pioneer in their field. It’s how our English teacher got his copy of the Tempest signed by the original author. I think this might be the first one that won’t end in a raid by government idiots in white, though.

“So yeah, we occasionally get to talk to dead celebrities and don’t bat an eye at it. Amity Park is very weird.”

***

“Danny! You left your cups in the sink again!”

“How can you tell it’s mine?”

“They’re glowing green and you’re the only one that drinks ectoplasm! Now take care of them before you bring the food to life again!”

“Fine…”

The camera pans over to a goth woman giving the camera a flat look. On screen, there’s some text that reads: ‘When your boyfriend forgets to clean off his dishes after his mildly radioactive smoothies.’

***

“Urgh!” Just die you stupid, lazy skeleton!”

“How long is this attack going to be!”

“I don’t care, because when it’s finally my turn, I am going to stab the dust out of this depressed sack of bones!”

On screen was a couch, and on that couch sat 3 young adults, two women and one man. One of the women was Valarie Gray, US National Taekwondo Silver Medalist, was jabbing her thumb down on the d-pad of her controller, lips pulled back in a snarl. The other was Samantha Manson, more known for the TikTok channel Our Strange Lives. The man was a muscular blond. All three were focusing on the screen, their eyes emitting faint light and Valarie’s teeth seemed to be getting sharper.

Quietly a blond woman walked on screen, a backpack slung over her shoulder. The woman was Star Strong from Fashionable History.

“You guys are still streaming?”

“This boss is stupid difficult and Manson and Gray are the only ones willing to play.”

“What happened to the guys?”

“Fowley, Wes, Singh all had work. Fenton got to the first boss and then lost it because ‘Goat Mom just wanted to protect us’ before getting a call from his lil sis asking for help. Kwan is working on a lab with a guy from his chem class, and Kyle passed out a couple hours ago.”

“Stop dodging!”

“Wanna play?”

“Can’t. Going to the library to study for a calc exam I have coming up. See you guys later.”

“Later.”

“FUC-”

***

“And so, with this polaroid image, we have evidence to prove that-”

“Hey, Wes, do you have something I can use for a collage? Oh sweet, thanks bro!”

“What? No! Kyle! Get back with that! That was the proof I was going to use to prove the existence of Yetis!”

“Oh damn. This is some nice creature work! Danny, your friend has an incredible costume, man!”

“Thanks, Kyle! I’ll pass it on!”

***

Tim paused the video right as Wesley Weston stood to chase his older brother.

There.

The red-head’s eyes had a slight glow to them. Tim clicked over to the other images he had gathered of the Amity Park teens, all with their eyes glowing or other signs of something inhuman.

Tim had been introduced to this group by Stephanie when she found a martial arts demonstration Gray did that involved breaking multiple boards, all several feet above her head. Stephanie had meant it as a ‘check out his cool person doing what we’re doing,’ but Tim noticed something. All the boards were being held by seemingly the same person- or at least people dressed very similarly. And not in a way where they’re sitting on a ledge above Gray and are switching out the board each time she broke one. More that there were multiple companies of the same white glove all holding a board and all floating several feet above where they should have been. That was already a little weird, but it could’ve been some special effects or just a uniform.

No, what caught Tim’s attention was the quick glimpse of the face of one of the board holders. It was youthful- late teens- but with paper white hair that showed no signs of bleaching. Now these features would have been a thing to cement the mysterious person in Tim’s mind. But it wasn’t that.

No, what got Tim to do some digging to find out about a previously unknown supposed hero from a small town that has been blacked-out by the US government, was his eyes.

His calm, glowing Lazarus green eyes.

***

So we finally get a taste for the shenanigans our liminals are up to. Sam, Tucker, and Danny all share a TikTok where they show off how weird the other two are and how weird their town is. Wes is trying to prove cryptids exist, which Kyle ruins. Dash has a gaming stream that most often Kwan joins in on, and Paulina and Star do dress history. Oh, and Valarie is a national taekwondo because karate has only been an event for one Olympic games, but taekwondo has been an event since 2000 and Val seems more like a kicker than a thrower. Plus, I actually took taekwondo when I was younger.

We do get another Bat showing up at the end. There is absolutely no plot, however, so who knows where this is going. Certainly not me!

I'm still looking for names (please, I need them). As for majors:

Jazz-Psych (obviously)

Kyle- Liberal Arts (I wanna put him in accounting, but Liberal Arts works for now)

Tuck- Comp Sci

Danny- Poly Sci, minor in Astronomy

Sam- Double Poly Sci and Environmental Science

Val- Criminal Justice

Dash- Undecided (both me and him)

Kwan- Pre-Med for now, though he wants to do Child Development/Education

Paulina- Fashion Marketing

Star- Sports Science

Mikey- Music

Wes- Journalism

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familyvideostevie · 7 months

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october thirtieth

day thirty: james potter you find a photo of the two of you in james's pocket | established relationship, fluff | 1k

“James, have you seen my lipstick?”

No reply. You check your makeup bag one more time but can't find it.

“James!”

“What?”

His voice is muffled. You leave the bathroom and follow it, finding him standing in the closet frowning at his dress shirts. You press into his side, wrapping yourself around his bare torso. “Your face is going to stick like that if you're not careful.”

He drags his hand up and down between your shoulder blades. “I have to be the best-dressed bride of a vampire out there, darling. You know that.”

Silly, silly man. The event of the evening is Halloween-themed drinks at the popular bar on the high street. You had to book a table and everything and James has been looking forward to it all month.

He came up with your costumes: you, a dangerous and beautiful vampire, and him, your willing and handsome bride.

“Well, best of luck to you. Have you seen my lipstick? The red one?”

You need it to draw the punctures on his neck and lines of blood from the corners of your mouth. James pulls himself from your hold and selects a shirt, finally, buttoning it up halfway and messing with his hair in the mirror.

“I don't have it, darling,” he says.

You sigh. Easily distracted, this one. “I gave it to you the other night to hold.”

He snaps his fingers. “So you did. It must be in my jacket pocket.”

“Which one?” You swear James has more clothes than you.

“Which jacket or which pocket?”

“James.”

He winks at you, glasses flashing. “Brown jacket, not sure which pocket.”

You leave him to his fussing and find it hanging on the hook in the entryway.

The lipstick is not in the right pocket or the left. You hope he's not lost it because it's a great color and you really don't want to have to draw the blood on in purple, or something, but then you feel something lipstick-shaped in the breast pocket.

“Jackpot,” you mutter. You pull the tube from the pocket but out with it comes a piece of paper.

It's creased and wrinkled, as if it's been handled many times. You unfold it and —

Oh. You think you say that out loud.

It's you and James. A photo from ages ago. Years, actually. It's you two on the night you met. A party of Lily's, something she did often in those days to bring people together, and this one was a game night. You and James had been paired up for charades and you'd absolutely crushed the competition. You remember feeling like you could read each other's minds.

In the photo you're holding the trophy — a tiny, plastic thing Lily had bought at a discount store — and you're smiling so wide you can see all of your teeth. James has his arm slung around you and he's looking right at you instead of at the camera.

His expression shocks you. You've seen hundreds of photos of the two of you together where he's got this look on his face, the one that you know to be love. And in the photo you've just found, one of the first day you met, he's looking at you the same way. Like he's in love.

“Darling?” he calls. “Did you find it?” he wanders down the hall, fully dressed, and you turn to him.

“Yes,” you say, breathless. “James, why do you have this in your jacket?”

“Hm?” He slides his hand over your hip and leans in to look, face brightening when he see's what you've found. “Have you not seen this before? I suppose I've kept it in there since Lily gave it to me.”

You just stare at it.

“God, it's so obvious I was gone for you,” he sighs.

You turn your head so you're looking at him, so close you could count his eyelashes. “You were?”

“Darling, I was utterly ass over tit for you from the start. In love the second you opened your mouth.”

“Don't be silly, James.”

He looks offended. “No, it's true! I remember the whole thing. I was late and you'd been freed up from work at the last minute so we didn't have partners when Lily said to make teams. And you looked at me and said, 'You better be good at this, because I am.' And I said, 'I will win you this if it's the last thing I do.'”

“Which was a bit dramatic,” you mutter.

“And you didn't even tell me your name until we won.”

“That is how it went, I suppose. You really fancied me because I was a bit overcompetative?”

James snorts. “Come on, love, is that really so hard to believe?”

You look at the picture again. It isn't, considering you were similarly smitten that night, but it's still a bit like a fairy tale.

“No, I guess not.”

“I mean, who wouldn't fall in love with you at first sight?” James presses a kiss to your temple. “You're funny —” he kisses your brow “— sweet —” your nose “— lovely —” your cheek.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you say, shoving him off. “We need to finish getting ready, James, or we'll be late.”

He bares his neck for you. “Blood me up, baby.”

You laugh, slip the photo back into his jacket, and drag him back to the bathroom. “You're so weird.”

“And you looooove it.”

“You're the one who carries that photo round all the time!”

Just saying it makes your heart swell. It's a small thing in the grand scheme of your relationship. James shows you he loves you all the time — in his words, his actions. The way he looks at you. How he always buys your favorite flavor soda at the shop when he sees it. The way he knows how to wake you from a nap without startling you. His touch in a crowded room and his gaze when he senses you need something.

So, yeah, a photo in his jacket pocket is nothing, really. But he clearly looks at it often and thins about that first night.

You lean in and kiss him without warning. He makes a surprised noise but leans into it, hand cupping the back of your neck. Maybe it's alright if you're a little late.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

#fvspromptober23 #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #marauders fanfiction

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http-tokki · 7 months

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need to know

~ choso kamo x fem!reader (tattoo artist choso au) ~tags/cw: tattoo artist choso, fem reader, tattoo artist au, tattoos, needles, satosugu is canon, modern au, choso has a scar over his nose instead of his markings, strangers to friend to lovers (strangers rn) tiny lil man verbal bashing cause men are weak lil babies when getting tattoos, reader is a lil chubby, choso is on antidepressants, smoking/vaping, drinking ~ wc: 2.9k ~ "Dude, he is so fucking hot. I wasn't expecting him to look like that!! What do I do?!! Help?!?"

You: Wednesday 8:45pm Hi, I was just wondering if your books were still open? It says they are in your bio but in case I've missed it and they're closed, please ignore this message, sorry! :)

Kamo: Wednesday 9:23pm Hey. No, they are still open. When were you looking to book? Do you have a specific design? Or are you looking for a flash?

You: Thursday 11:36am Oh, hi, awesome! Thank you for getting back to me so quickly! I was looking to book next month, towards the end. On a weekend if that would be possible (I don't mind the time), and for the design, just a flash (design 3A) on your latest post on my upper arm, around 15-20cm. :)

You: Thursday 11:52pm Unless you think it should be smaller or somewhere else, I'm not picky! I really want something of yours tattooed on me :)

Kamo: Thursday 12:15pm Sure, no problem! I have the 24th free at 12pm. Does that work for you? The spot and size are fine, but I'll make up smaller and bigger stencils on the day in case you change your mind. The total would be $600 for the piece. However, I require a $100 deposit to secure your spot. I can send you the payment details once you confirm your interest. Please read through my FAQs on cancellation policies and further information.

You: Thursday 12:20pm 24th at 12pm is perfect! Thank you!! I'll send a deposit through now! Ahh, so excited! :)

Kamo: Thursday 1:07pm You're welcome. Here is the link x. Please send a screenshot of your payment as proof. For the rest of the amount, I accept cash only. If you have any other questions, feel free to message me. See you on the 24th.

You: Thursday 3:30pm Sending it now! Yay! Thank you so much! Super excited, see you! :)

Kamo: Thursday 4:35 pm Seen

"I sound like an idiot, don't I?" you grumble as your friend reads over your chat with a tattoo artist.

You watch your friend tilt their glasses down, squinting at the screen as their mouth curls into a grimace. They try to hide it with a sniffle, disguising their obvious disgust over your intense enthusiasm.

"Not an idiot," they hand the phone back to you, a frown set in the crooked way it always did when they were uncomfortable. "Just really, really eager, which can be cute if you like that."

Choso is growing tired.

At what? There are too many contributing factors to the headache that had begun blooming his eyes five minutes after stepping into the studio to pinpoint the main culprit of his budding exhaustion. Maybe it was the late night/early morning combo, or perhaps it was the horrific lack of water and food he hadn't consumed in the last twenty-four hours. When was the last time he had taken his medication? Choso begins to run through the previous days in an attempt to remember when he had even glanced at the Zoloft sheet sitting in the bottom drawer of his trolley, but his attention is diverted from his lack of self-care to the man sitting in his tattoo chair.

It is coming up on the two-hour mark since his client walked in. With a brazen attitude that could rival a Greek god, the man had outlined what had to be the simplest fucking tattoo known to man. Choso had rolled his eyes at the frankly impressive and thorough drawing done by the twenty-something gym bro before shifting the paper off to his younger brother.

"Come on, it's easy! An hour tops, and then you've got like two fifty in your hand! You technically owe me an observation session, and this can be it." Yuji had gripped his brother's sleeve, tugging on it the way he used to when they were kids.

Taking in his younger half-brother as his apprentice was a good idea in theory. The two lived and worked together, so there was ample time for obvs and practice, but today was already busy, and Choso was feeling like complete and utter shit.

"Yuji, I don't want to do this. I have a client coming in at twelve for a full session, and I've got this headache and-"

"It's easy money, come on! Please." it technically was easy money. The design was a small band wrapped around the bicep, with no adornments or script, just a flat black line; it was the client himself that made Choso apprehensive.

"Fine." Choso sighed, and Yuji almost jumped into the air in excitement. "You prep and clean him; I'm not doing anything but the actual tattoo."

Yuji nodded eagerly and just about ran into the front room to confirm the walk-in appointment.

That was almost two hours ago, and Choso is still here, finishing up the outlines of the band on a guy twice his size but carrying on like a toddler. Each touch of the needle on skin had the man flinching and hissing through his teeth, and there is only so much Choso could take.

Choso eyes the clock nervously, his next appointment slot ticking closer but the second. There isn't going to be enough time to get out and grab a coffee or snack from the corner store. After another quick glance at the amount of work before him, Choso calls it fifteen minutes to twelve and clicks off the tattoo gun with a disappointed sigh.

"Hey, I'm sorry, but we might have to split this into two sessions."

He looks back over at this current client, who is sweating profusely. It takes everything in him to scowl in disgust at the once brazen man before him, but not the look on his client's face; Choso knows some form of repugnance had slipped through his composure.

"Yeah, sure, man, no sweat," the client replies, relief blatant in his sigh. "Sorry for taking so many breaks. I've got a weak pain tolerance."

That makes Choso feel a little bad.

"You're fine. I've just got a pre-booked client coming in like ten and need to set up." A little lie to hurry the man up.

Hope is so close. So attainable that Choso can almost feel the sun on his face, but the shop bells slice through any dream of a break.

"Hi, I'm here for my twelve with Kamo?"

Choso slouches, attention now on the conversation happening in the front room. It's not even twelve yet! Why would she be here so early?

"Yep! We've got you down for twelve, but Choso's still with someone, so if you wanna wait here, that's okay!" Yuji giggles in response.

"Ohh, I'm just here to ask if umm…Choso wanted a coffee or anything?" his name is a question on her tongue. "I'm going to go get one and wanted to ask if anyone wanted anything so you don't have to wait in line."

That's nice. Choso thinks and leans back on his chair, attempting to glimpse his new client, who has Yuji giggling at every word.

"I was just about to step out to get coffee so I can come with you, but I can get Cho's; you don't need to pay for him." Another giggle. God, his younger brother is shameless.

"That's okay! I can get them; just write your orders down so I don't forget!" the girl insists.

"Ohh, but-"disappointment fills Yuji's voice.

"Yuji, can you come here please!" Choso shouts down the hall, pulling his brother away from his new crush.

Yuji groans, then the shop bells ring again, and then the sound of footsteps shuffles down the hall.

"Yes?"

"Can you wrap him up and finish the payment? I need a smoke." Choso rolled back from the bed, handing over the second skin he has yet to unwrap.

Choso's brother sighs but offers the male client a friendly smile, sits down in the now vacant rollaway stool, and begins to prep the skin for wrap-up.

"I'll be back in five; if anyone needs me, tell them to wait." Choso grumbles the last part and offers a stiff wave to his current client before disappearing into the hall.

The knots in Choso's shoulder have been building for days now, and no amount of rolling or stretching seems to relieve the tension in his muscles, but it is nice to stretch and feel the blood move around him again. Heavy boots echo through the small shop as he stalks to the front desk, floorboards creaking under the weight of thick rubber soles. His fingers slip into his back pocket to reach for the small pack of menthols hastily shoved down after the abrupt end of his morning break.

Stepping out into the world, Choso is blinded by the sun. Having forgotten about the passage of time while being stuck indoors all day, he now stands stunned in the small alcove of the shop's entrance. The sun nears the centre of the sky, beating down the world in a heat never seen before. It wasn't even the beginning of summer, and the sweltering days were breaking temperature records. Choso shields his eyes with a hand, and even then, his vision is blurred as his retinas adjust.

The street is quiet; an abnormal silence had fallen over the usually busy road, but with the rising blistering temps, he suspects people aren't willing to brave the heat to shop or eat. Choso finds the familiar recess in the wall, a door had been there years ago but has long since been boarded up and now acts as refuge for him and his brother. Through any weather, time of day or season, the small alcove is a sanctuary for tired and burnt-out artists needing a second away from the constant buzz of tattoo guns.

Choso scans the few open cafes and bars for his mystery client. Mainly office workers on lunch break and mothers with strollers waiting for the afternoon pick up; he can't see anyone that fits the image he had concocted in his mind on the short walk over until he spots a girl standing in line across the way. The tattoos that adorn her legs are what Choso notices first. Patchwork pieces from different artists in black and white with pops of colour here and there, but for the most part are monochromatic, all spaced far enough to be their own pieces but not so much that they seem gap-y. He is impressed at the choice, knowing that when getting patchwork pieces, they are usually slapped in any available location, but from what he can see, every piece flowed into each other and told a story against her skin. Her arms are equally as covered, though with more room, and he is eager to see the works up close. A flash of pink catches his attention, and he narrows his attention on the pink My Melody backpack that she swings at her side, pink wallet clutched in her free hand as she shifts her weight from her toes to her heels. Choso smirks at the bag and finds himself willing her to turn so he can see the face of the girl who we had been staring at for the past five minutes.

He is staring and he needs to stop before he gets caught. Shifting his attention from the random woman, he fishes out his phone and focuses on the seemingly endless DMs and texts stacked on the lock screen. Sometimes, he wonders if he really should have gone into a career where his livelihood relied on communicating with strangers. With expert precision and one hand, he pulls a cigarette from the crumpled packet and slips the filter between his teeth. Biting down the filter, the taste of menthol fills his mouth, and relief floods his veins before settling in the deep groves of his brain. The cigarette isn't even lit yet, but his nervous system knows that the taste of mint will soon be followed by nicotine, and all will be well for a few minutes. Breaking the habit of smoking has been on Choso's New Year's resolution lists for the past three years, but he only ever lasts a few weeks before turning back to the comfort of those overpriced joints. Maybe next year will be the year. Choso digs through his pockets, fingers grasping for the lighter he keeps in his right pant pocket, but there is nothing. Maybe the other side? Still nothing. Third pocket? Fourth pocket? Nada. Zilch. Zero. Fuck.

There isn't enough time to go back inside to search for matches, and he had already popped the filter and doesn't want to waste the smoke, but it would get gross sitting in the packet- his headache grew.

"Choso?" a soft voice asks from above.

Choso looks up from his lap and is greeted by the most stunning woman he has ever seen. Breathing is no longer automatic as he stares at you, and when his lungs start to contract almost painfully, he realises and takes in an all too obvious breath.

It wasn't fair to look like that. With the sun illuminating your silhouette, cradling you in an angelic aura that has Choso debating on whether he should get on his knees and pray to you, but too much time has passed since you spoke and he acknowledged you that he has to say something, but all he can manage is a muffled yeah?

"I'm your twelve, but you look like you need a light?" you hold out a bright pink light between pretty pink manicured fingers.

Choso offers a tight-lipped smile to prevent the cigarette from falling from his mouth and takes the lighter, flicking it to life. "Thanks, I owe ya."

He holds the flame to the tobacco, and only when it glows bright does he pull the disposable away.

"It didn't cost me anything, so nothing to owe."

There is a beat of silence as you throw the light back into your bag before bending down to pick up the coffee you had set at your feet. "Also, a coffee." another offer towards him.

"The guy at the desk gave me your order, and I always buy my artists something before a session. I'm not hitting on you."

Your admission of this not being a move stirs something in him. Choso accepts the cold cup with a soft thank you, angling his hand away from yours, careful not to burn you with the lit smoke.

"I'll meet you inside. Give you a moment to yourself." you nod towards the door of the studio, feet already turning to start walking towards the entrance.

He watches you walk away, a smile creeping on his face despite not knowing why. You're as cute from the front as you are from the back, and he's glad the girl he had seen in the coffee shop is you. Soft curves make up your figure, dipping at your waist before filling out again over your bust. Choso feels his stomach twist in that familiar feeling, but he can't think of you like that; you're a client and nothing more. There is a mesmerising way in which you walk that has Choso unable to look away, and even when you've stepped into the studio, his gaze lingers on the empty space you once stood in until the rancid taste of burnt filter fills his mouth. Never in his life has he been as thankful for coffee as he is in that moment when burnt paper fills his senses. Taking a big gulp of the sweet but still bitter drink, it takes everything in him not to spit in the street, but he was raised better than that and will wait until he is in the small bathroom to spit up the gross contents.

When Choso returns, you are sitting on the small couch in the waiting room, filling out consent forms. Head down as you read the number of your ID and scribe it down in the open line; he walks past you, suddenly horrified by his heavy choice of shoe. The thick thud of the rubber soles on the hardwood has you lifting your head and smiling at your artist. Choso feels his stomach flip.

"So," Choso starts, but the smoke still in his throat chokes the word. He clears his throat and restarts his sentence. "So, do you smoke, or do you just carry the lighter?"

"My best friend smokes, so I just carry it 'cause you never know when you're gonna need a light." Your laugh is contained, almost forced, as if the interaction you are having is uncomfortable for you. Had he done something wrong?

"Ohh." Is his only reply as you return to the balanced folder on your lap.

Another moment of silence before Choso steps towards the hall. "I'll let Yuji check you in, and then just come in when you're ready." Had he already made you that uncomfortable in the two minutes you had spoken outside? Choso takes a deep breath as he steps into his space and suddenly wishes the whiney baby was the one getting tattooed.

You: Saturday 12:05pm Dude, he is so fucking hot. I wasn't expecting him to look like that!! What do I do?!! Help?!?

Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:06pm suck his dick? ik guys like that :P

You: Saturday 12:06pm Idk what I expected from you. I need actual advice, please Saturo. U owe me!

Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:07pm ooh first name, you're kinda scary. Okay, here is what you do. You act like a normal human and then flirt a lil and suss out if he's into it and then ask him out to drinks?

You: Saturday 12:08pm That works if I KNEW HOW TO FLIRT. Ugh im screwed, he's so fine fuck

Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:09pm eww, you're getting ur jizz all over the screen. just breathe and be normal okay, pretend he's me.

You: Saturday 12:10pm Ignoring the first comment. Im gonna sneak a pic and show u BRO YOU NEED TO SEE HIM

Number ONE best friend: 12:10pm creepy but okeeeeyyy. Sugu also says to breathe and be normal but to ignore anything you think I would do

You: Saturday 12:11pm Thanks, Suguru, please kill him for me, ill talk to u guys in a bit

Number ONE best friend: good luck bestie 8======D

a/n: okay so there is going to be a part two but I'm not sure when, please give me feedback if you want it or want me to stop, put the laptop down and go outside lmao lil texting format, lemme know how y'all feel about that

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dduane · 9 months

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That paprikahendl recipe

So the first thing to be said is possibly the most important: this is a paprikahendl recipe. (And in this case, it was made with duck, because we were out of chicken... so it's probably paprikaentl, if anything.) :)

Everybody's mom or grandmother would've had her own version of this, which would naturally be the best one in the mind of the person you were talking to. The original dish, though—as @petermorwood has pointed out—would have been a peasant dish of the use-a-moderate-amount-of-flavorful-and-spicy-meat-to-season-a-lot-of-noodles-or-whatever kind. If you're a peasant, after all (and maybe even if you're not, of late...), meat is expensive, so in dishes of this kind it's used as more of a seasoning for what you have plenty of—in this case, the tiny flour-based noodles-or-dumplings called spaetzle. (In its rural beginnings, of course, the meat probably would've been a laying chicken that was too old to lay any more... or even a cockerel that had started shooting blanks, and whose morning racket was starting to get on your nerves.)

Later, though, a small tender chicken (or two) was seen as preferable. Paprikahendl became very popular in Hungary and other parts of central Europe, and in the process—over time—got taken somewhat upmarket. The recipe I used as my basis for this version is one that apparently was (and who knows, maybe still is) served at one of Vienna's famous Sacher establishments. As a result it contains elements I'm none too sure about—such as the last-minute apple—but otherwise seems to me to hold water.

The full recipe is here. Now let me tell you what I did to with it.

(inserting a cut here, so those who don't want to watch a bunch of video clips of things frying and cooking won't have to...)

Normally in the initial stage of this recipe, you'd cut up a whole small chicken (or two) into pieces, color them in your preferred frying fat (in Hungary, possibly lard, but at very least butter) and then set them aside to make the sauce. In this case, since the meat I had to work with was duck, I cooked that as directed and put it aside while we went off to do some other stuff. I also made spaetzle to go on the side, as it's the kind of thing you'd be likely to run into regionally. These we can fortunately buy ready-made, like most other kinds of pasta. Or you can make them from scratch. Since I now have a Magic Spaetzle Machine to do this, I'll show how that's done some other time. (Or you could look at this video...)

youtube

Then, to make the sauce, I pulled together:

The zest and juice of a lemon

Half an onion or more, chopped fine (I have to be careful with onions, as too much will set off my IBS)

Off to one side, I asked Peter to do the dry paprika mix for me. This was two very heaping tablespoons of paprika, and about half a teaspoon of cayenne, to mock up the heat of the hotter paprika that would have been used in small villages in the Carpathians.

Then I clarified some butter in the microwave, about three tablespoons of it (you melt it in a tall glass and set this aside until the milk solids settle out, then pour off the clarified butterfat) and dumped that in the big cookpot along with the onions.

When those had hit the cooked-until-translucent point, I cut the duck up into chunks and got them ready to go in: then added the paprika and (when that had fried a little) the lemon juice. (Paprika can taste a little raw in a sauce if you don't fry it a bit first.)

Then in went 125 ml of rose wine (I'd have used white if I'd had any, but whatever...) and about 500 ml of chicken stock, and everything got stirred very well together.

After that, the duck got chucked in and the pot was covered and left to simmer for 45 minutes or so. Normally this would be the time a raw chicken would need to cook, and naturally the duck was well cooked already: but it seemed to me that another 45 minutes getting even more tender couldn't hurt it.

So that was what happened. At the end of 45 minutes, the duck was removed and set aside while I got busy with finishing the sauce. You lower the temperature in the big pot until the pre-sauce liquid is just barely simmering. Then to thicken it, you use about a cup of the thickest sour cream you can lay your hands on, with a third of a cup of flour beaten into it very well with a fork. At which point you should be able to do this with the fork:

Now you find a big balloon whisk and start whisking this mixture into the pre-sauce, sort of a tablespoon or two at a time...making sure each dose of sour cream + flour is very well beaten in, leaving no lumps, before adding the rest. When it's all in there, you very gently raise the heat, stirring or whisking occasionally, until the sauce starts to thicken. Then add the meat back in and let it warm through in there for a little while longer: ten or fifteen minutes should do it.

Assuming that people are ready to eat, you heat the spaetzle (and toss it with some butter), plate it up, and add the paprikahendl on top. And dig in.

...Anyway, that was my take. If you go googling for "paprikahendl", you will find many, many more recipes: some far less complex than this approach, some far more so. Pick one that suits you and see what you make of it. This one worked really well, though: so you might like to take a shot at it.

If you do: enjoy!

#paprikahenldl

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moralesmilesanhour · 5 months

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piece of cake

summary: meeting miles g at a bakery, and other happenings. wc: 3k+ warning: blood, grief (more at the periphery, not a major theme), and lightly implied mommy issues a/n: ngl i was hungry asf when i wrote this. why can't i ever write normal fluff fics anymore. first fic of 2024!!

Brooklyn Middle is closed for winter break. The basketball court where the snow-covered hoop no longer has a net is empty, save for the blinking Christmas lights strung across the chain-link fence.

In a few years, the pizza place across the street where students would linger after school will be demolished, replaced by a shiny new Oscorp building that reflects the sun from all angles of its glass exterior. But for now, the place is just closed early for the holidays, a few blocks away from a bakery.

The tall, bear-like frame of a father dressed in a long black overcoat can be seen entering with a wiry young boy in a red hoodie and bomber jacket tailing close behind. He has an afro as opposed to his father’s closely-cropped hair. The boy keeps trying to straighten his posture - as if his spine would suddenly lengthen and his shoulders would broaden from the act alone. He wants to make himself look important today, because he is on a top-secret mission:

Operation: Get Mom a Cake.

“I think mom’ll like that one.”

The boy points at a slice of tres leches cake sitting behind a glass display. It’s not as flashy as the other decorative cakes drizzled with chocolate and strawberries or encased in pink frosting, but those wouldn’t melt on the tongue the way tres leches did.

His father raised an eyebrow at the plain slice, but the boy looked at him with a certainty that he’d never seen before, through eyes nearly identical to his mother’s. The man knew then that he was getting an expert opinion.

“Alright, if you say so,” he chuckled, adjusting his glasses. “We’ll take that one, Val.”

The boy smiled proudly at the older woman as she handed him the pink box containing the cake. Mission accomplished.

Now, he looks up and frowns at the Oscorp building blocking the view of where his old school used to be as he picks at a slice of cake with a plastic fork.

The ‘Employees Only’ door behind the counter swings open, and Valeria Cruz hobbles out, removing her apron.

“It’s almost your shift, Miles, hurry up and finish that cake.”

Miles takes one more bite before rising from his seat near the entrance and pushing the paper plate and half-eaten slice into a small trash can.

“You got it, Miss V.”

“Did you take out the trash?”

He pauses, and his eyes widen.

“I’mma get that done right now, Miss V!”

The woman sighs, running a hand through gray and white-streaked curls as the teen sprints out the door and back outside.

A forest green puffer jacket rushes past you on the sidewalk. It’s the same one you had seen shuffling out of the back entrance of Val’s bakery the other morning, lugging two black garbage bags with a purple hoodie obscuring the stranger’s face.

He probably works there, then, you think. Good. She could use the help.

The place had been packed the week before Officer Morales’ funeral, and for several weeks after. But over time, business began to slow down to a trickle. Hipster cafés and towering condos sprang up and choked out the little pizza shops and restaurants that took their owners’ last names, like when an invasive species of plant grows taller than the local varieties and smothers them, blocking out the sun.

You had been seeing Val’s face since you were in diapers. Families used to go there for birthdays, for elementary school graduations, middle school graduations - or sometimes just to grab something sweet to eat after church on Sundays. You continued the tradition–even if just to buy a tiny bag of cookies–in the hopes that the place might still be standing for your high school graduation.

The bell above the door rings to signal your entrance. The once baby pink wallpaper has begun to fade, but the late-afternoon sun makes it feel as vibrant as it did when you were twelve. Valeria is standing in front of the display of freshly-baked pastries with her apron folded neatly over her arm.

“Oh, were you about to close up shop?” You begin to take backward steps. “I can come back later–”

“No, no, sweetie, it’s fine!” The woman waves her hand, beckoning you to stay. “I was just about to go on my lunch break. I have someone about to take over for me.”

“It’s cool, I can wait. I saw somebody taking out the trash, that him?”

She sighs wearily, “That’s him, alright. He’s a good kid, but he’s always–”

“Sorry I’m late!”

In rushes Mr. Green Jacket through a chilly gust of wind, who turns to nod in greeting towards you before weaving past Val and behind the counter, where he disappears through the ‘Employees Only’ door.

“That boy, I swear. Never on time!”

He reappears sans the jacket, wearing a white apron identical to the one Val is holding. The name tag on it reads ‘Miles’.

Miles. Where have you heard that name before…?

The hood on his sweater is no longer pulled over his head, revealing two neat cornrows that cascade all the way down his neck. The surrounding hair has been shaved and faded at the nape of his neck and hairline. He’s the sort of brown-skinned that looks golden when the sunlight hits his face as he approaches the cash register.

“You gonna be alright for the next half hour?” asked Val with an eyebrow raised.

Miles drummed his fingers on the counter and grinned. “Yup, I got it.”

“Don’t destroy anything while I’m gone!”

“I won’t, promise.”

She pushes the door open with a skeptical look and leaves.

With this new stranger temporarily in charge, you carefully approach the counter. He looks up at you with curious brown eyes.

“Whatchu want?”

“Um…” you blink before remembering what you were here for. “Just sugar cookies, please.”

“How many?”

“Five.”

He turns to grab a paper bag, then bends to drop the desired amount of cookies into it with the pair of tongs that sit on the inside of the display.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what school you go to? I haven’t seen you around here before, feel like I’d remember you if I had.”

Miles pops his head over the counter and tilts his head with a cheeky grin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You avoid eye contact, shifting from one foot to the other. Suddenly it’s not so cold anymore.

“I-I don’t know. You just seem memorable.”

He laughs a raspy, breathy laugh and hands you the bag of cookies over the counter. His hand is much larger than yours with slender fingers at the end of it, but still manages to appear almost clumsy-looking. Big enough to be a man’s, but with only half the dexterity.

“I go to Visions.”

“Fancy. You like it over there?”

“It’s aight. Kinda uptight, but my dad always said it was a ‘good opportunity’, so I stayed.”

You hum in consideration.

“Can't do everything for your parents, though. They'll have you living their dreams before you know it.”

The smile fades a bit, and Miles averts his gaze.

“Well my dad passed, so I just figured I’d just do this one thing for him.”

You cover your mouth with your palm.

“I'm so sorry, I–”

“It's fine,” he snorts without any humor. “You might be the only one that doesn't know who my daddy is. Kind of a relief.”

Miles encloses the money you just gave him in the slot beneath the cash register with a loud snap.

“You need anything else?”

You chew on your bottom lip in embarrassment and clutch your bag of cookies.

“No. Thank you.”

He doesn’t look up from the register.

“Have a nice day.”

Your mother is leaning on the window sill, nibbling on a granola bar when you get back home. She’s silent, which means she is observing. You’ll need to tread carefully.

“I brought cookies.”

She gives you a sidelong glance.

“Val’s cookies?”

“Yup, same as always.”

“That lady still working there all by herself?”

“She hired somebody to help out, actually - I saw a boy working the register.”

She notices the upward inflection in your voice at the mention of a boy, which interests her more than the cookies.

“What’s he look like?”

“He’s got, um,” you make a gesture over your head. “Twin braids–cornrows–and a green jacket? Kinda tall, too.”

Your mother nods, thoughtful. The description rings a bell, but she needs to confirm.

“You catch his name?”

“Miles, I think.”

“Lord,” she gasps, fully turning to face you. “That’s that Morales boy! I used to work with his momma, bless her heart. Barely saw his face after the funeral.”

The image of Miles’ face at the mention of his dad makes you cringe at your comment earlier. How could you not recognize him? He practically stole his face from the mural that was plastered above the precinct. You had only heard the boy’s name uttered once by your mother over the phone at 2:00 A.M., whispered like a secret.

“I can’t imagine how it must be for Miles. Didn’t he just get into that nice school down there? Of course they’ll have to let him go home. He should be with his mother.”

“He was such a sweet little boy. Then I saw him the other day?”

She shook her head, “Look like a different person. He had them flashy studs in his ears, nose pierced and everything.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Wouldn’t be surprised if he had tattoos under that coat as well. Damn shame.”

“He seemed nice when I saw him,” you remark quietly in a weak attempt to defend his character, despite having known him for all of five minutes. “Sweet, like you said.”

Your mother’s face hardens, all of her attention now focused on you as she folds the wrapping of the granola bar.

“That’s why you’re not bringing no boys home ‘till you’re eighteen,” she sharply reminds you. “‘Seems nice’ - How you know if he’s really nice or not?”

Again, Miles’ face appears in your mind’s eye. He didn’t seem to want your pity - rejected it, even. And what of his apparent chronic lateness?

Still…

“You don’t know that, either,” you say despite yourself. “I spoke to him while I was there.”

Your mother’s eyes narrow.

“Girl, I know that look. I better not see you runnin’ around with that boy, understand me?”

She looks set on not changing her mind now, so you only nod in defeat.

“Yes, ma’am.”

In your head, you’re already making plans to hit up the bakery tomorrow - both to apologize and to see the sun kissing Miles’ face again. Maybe tomorrow he’d even have the piercings in.

But when you get there the next day under the guise of ‘a trip to the corner store’, Miles isn’t at the register.

The sky has turned a pale shade of gray, and it has begun to drizzle. Pulling your navy blue coat tightly around you, you consider turning back around when–

Boom!

The sound of something hitting a trash can from behind the establishment catches your attention. It could be him taking out the trash at the last minute again.

Your assumption is proven only halfway correct.

Stepping over discarded boxes and tin cans, you find Miles doubled over, clutching his side. “Are you okay?”

Startled, bloodshot eyes glance at you before focusing on the ground.

“Fucking fantastic,” he grunts painfully.

As you get closer, you can see a dark stain blooming from where his hand is. A sick feeling swirls in your stomach.

“Oh my God, do you need me to call somebody?”

“Nah, I’m…I’m straight,” Miles says through labored breaths. “I just gotta…patch myself up before I get home.”

You whip out your phone and frantically unlock it.

“I’m calling an ambulance.”

“Hell no–”

“You are bleeding!”

He tilts his head towards a duffle bag lying near his feet.

“I got First Aid in there…that’ll do me just fine.”

When he tries to reach for the bag, his knees give out, causing him to collapse right next to it.

Miles shivers as you gingerly wrap white bandages around his waist, the flat expanse of skin on his stomach partially exposed to the elements. He fades in and out of consciousness, between your face and black nothingness. When he’s awake, he stares up at you in disbelief.

“I didn’t call 9-1-1, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you tell him with a grin. “This should stop the bleeding, but I can’t help you beyond that.”

“Wusyaname?” he mumbles, head lolling towards you. He’s on the brink of passing out again.

“Call me (Y/N).”

“Wasn’t gon’ call you anything else.”

“Shut up, I just saved your life.”

“Mmmm-hm,” Miles hums with a lazy smile that makes you wonder if he’s becoming delirious.

“Eeeeverybody loves sayin’ that. Everybody always…”

His eyelids get heavy before he can finish the thought, and he finally blacks out again in your lap.

There’s a short line inside the bakery that weekend, and you wonder if Miles has anything to do with it.

Word seemed to get around mysteriously fast that the former teenaged recluse had come out of hiding after that conversation (if you could even call it that) with your mother. From where you’re sitting–by the window, nibbling on a sugar cookie, observing–Miles does not seem to enjoy the attention.

Or maybe you’re just imagining the strained smile on his face as the line of customers becomes a Greek chorus of gasps and squeals.

“You got so big!”

“What did you do to your hair?”

“Oh, you look just like Jeff.”

“How’s Rio?”

“Good to see you out and about again.”

The sparkling curiosity is nearly drained from his face by the time he joins you at the end of his shift with a slice of cake. He does not have the fabled nose piercing in, but two diamond studs sparkle when the light hits them every time he moves his head.

“So?”

“So…?”

“Are you alright after I found you the other day? I saw you limping back there.”

Miles rolls his eyes.

“I’m fine. My mom’s literally a nurse. She got me straight.”

“What’d you tell her? Looked like you broke a rib.”

“Far as she’s concerned, I fell off my bike.”

“I’ve never seen you on a bike.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t have one.”

You shrug. Touche.

“What did you have to say to me that was worth stalking me after my shift?”

“Stalking?”

“You buy the same thing every time, you think I ain’t notice?” Miles smirks, like a detective who’s just gotten a confession. “Who goes to a bakery and only gets cookies?”

“Lay off me, man, these are excellent,” you take another bite for emphasis. “Anyways, I actually came to apologize.”

His brows furrow in confusion. “For what?”

“For what I said the first time I saw you. I didn’t know you were that Miles.”

The corners of Miles’ lips pull downwards into a frown.

“That’s it?”

“Mm, well…”

You bite your lip by force of habit.

“I also wanted to talk to you again. Under better circumstances. That your favorite type of cake?”

Miles looks down at his plate when you point to it with your fork, as if he’s seeing it for the first time.

“Yeah, tres leches. What about it?”

“I dunno, I just always see you eating that and nothing else. Is there a reason?”

You expect to say something about the sweetness, or the texture, but instead he answers:

“It always tastes the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like…” He puts down his fork and starts to construct an analogy in his head.

“It’s like when you see an ice cream truck. You run up to it before it drives off, and what do you ask for? First thing that pops into your head?”

“Vanilla?”

“Exactly. You could try one of the other ones, but what if it tastes like ass? Now you stuck eating something you don’t like–”

“And it’s a waste of money.”

“Exactly!” Miles laughs. “You get it. My mom makes fun of me because I’ve been eating the same thing since I was five. But it’s always good! And the same amount of good.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

You tap your nails on the table, thinking.

“But what if you find a new flavor that you really like?”

He shrugs, “Then lucky me, I guess. But that doesn’t tend to happen.”

“It could happen, though.”

He watches the strange way you eat. Slowly, teeth-first, as if you’re afraid to make a mess. It’s weirdly dainty, which makes him chuckle beneath his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Uh-uh, don’t do that. What’s so funny?”

Miles gives you that same head tilt again.

“It’s cute, the way you eat.”

Your hand freezes just as it’s about to lift another cookie to your mouth, and you stare at him blankly.

“That’s…”

He pauses too.

“...Weird, yeah. Sorry. I dunno why I said that.”

A beat of silence passes that’s so heavy with awkwardness, that the two of you can’t help but burst into poorly-stifled laughter.

You lean forward with your chin resting in your hand. “That’s fine. I kept coming here just to spy on you, so I guess I’m weird, too.”

“Ah, so you admit it!”

“Hey, if I wasn’t bein’ a total creep, you might’ve bled out next to the garbage dump. Val can’t lose a valuable employee, right?”

“If you put it that way.”

You can see the white of some of Miles’ teeth peeking out as he smiles. One of his canines is charmingly crooked, and sharper than the others. When the smile fades, he suddenly looks uncertain.

“Can I ask you a question this time?”

“Ask away.”

“Do you wanna make this,” he gestures between you, “like, a regular thing? Y’know, ‘meeting under better circumstances’.”

It’s your turn for a smile to spread across your face.

“We should. Whatever you did to end up bleeding out in the rain, I guess I’d be a witness now.”

“M-hm. Can’t have you yappin’ about that to my customers,” He plays along, then winks. “I’mma need your number too, just in case.”

Just before you reach for your phone in your pocket, you hear your mother’s voice in your head, casting a shadow over the whole thing and giving you pause.

All jokes aside, Miles had never explained what had landed him in that predicament behind the bakery in the first place. He’s always late. He lies to his mother. You’re about to lie to your mother.

But the sun is hitting his face again, and with the light bouncing off of his pupils, he looks like he couldn’t hurt a fly. The shadow remains at the corner of your eye. Just the corner.

You grin and hand him your phone.

“You got it. Just in case.”

#miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #prowler!miles #moralesanhour

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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 1 year

Text

𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 • 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

SUMMARY: Charles and your son buy you a meaningful gift for your birthday

Genre: fluff

Warning: none

Pairing: Charles leclerc x reader, dad! Charles leclerc

Your sons hand was held tightly in Charles as they walked through the Store. The two were on a mission to find you a gift for your birthday. Your son was going on and on about how he wanted to get you a big gift. Macaroni necklace were no longer satisfying to the little boy anymore.

After a bit Charles caved and decided to take him to buy you something. After you left to go out with your girlfriends, the two leclerc’s went on their hunt

“We get a big gift Papa.” Your son said to Charles. The two looked through the aisles trying to figure out what to get. Charles suggested a mug and makeup but your son was quick to say no.

“Qu'est-ce qu'on va avoir ?" (What are we going to get).’ Charles stopped, kneeling down to your son’s height. The 4 year old pressed his pointer finger to his chin, eyebrows knitted as he started to think.

“I don’t know.”

Charles hummed. “Maybe we can get her some jewelry. Comment sonne un collier?” (how does a necklace sound?)

Your son face lit up and he quickly nodded. Charles stood back up and took his son’s hand leading them to the jewelry store.

“Wow, look at all these papa!” Your son peered into the glass case looking at all the different pieces of jewelry. Charles smiled. He loved watching your son getting fascinated by the little things in life.

“so which necklace should we get for Maman?” Charles asked after your son was done looking at the display.

“We get those most beautiful one.”

“how about we get something with your name on it?” Charles leads your son over to the necklace with names on it. Charles and your son spent a few minutes discussing what they should get.

After a bit of tiny bickering they settled on a necklace that said mama and a charm with both Charles and your son’s initials.

As Charles and your son walked out of the store after Charles paid your son couldn’t contain his excitement.

“Je suis vraiment enthousiaste.” (I’m so excited)

Charles chuckled placing the boy in his car seat. While Charles buckled him up he couldn’t help but tell him a few last words.

“When we get home you can’t tell Maman we got her the necklace. We have to wait till tomorrow. Pinky promise me you won’t say a thing.”

Charles held out his pinky finger. Your son quickly wrapped his pinky around his father’s. “I promise!”

Charles and your son made it home around the time you did. For the rest of the night Charles and your son kept their secret between them both.

Whenever you asked what they did while out all they did was mumble nothing with a little smirk.

The next day Charles woke up as soon as the sun peaked over horizon to get your birthday started. He slipped out of bed quietly so he didn’t wake you up and got dressed. It wasn’t unusual for Charles to get up early so if you saw him missing it wouldn’t be suspicious.

He left the apartment and ran to the store quickly. He got your favorite flowers and some pastries and tea from your favorite bakery.

When he returned home you were still fast asleep unaware of his run.

Charles creeped into your sons room quietly. The little boy was fast asleep in his car bed with his teddy bear tucked under his arm. He looked so peaceful. Charles didn’t want to wake him up, but he knew if he didn’t your son would be upset.

“Hey y/s/n, C'est l'heure de se lever.” (time to get up)

Your son sat up rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Is it Maman birfday?”

Charles hummed. “Yes it is. Ready to get her the gifts we got?”

Your son nodded and tore the blanket off his body. He was ready.

You were fast asleep when you felt jumping on the bed. Groaning you Slowly opened your eye’s. The first thing you see is your smiley son standing In your bed in his Ferrari pajamas.

“Maman, Joyeux anniversaire!!”(happy birthday) your son leaned down and kissed your cheek gently something he learned from watching his dad.

“happy birthday Mon amour. We got you some breakfast from your favorite bakery and some flowers.”

Charles sat the breakfast bag and flowers on your nightstand before he leaned down and placed a kiss on your other cheek.

“maman me and papa got you a present yesterday!”

You son took the gift from Charles and handed it to you. The little boy giggled with excitement as you began ripping the paper off the present.

You gasped when you saw the necklace in the box. “ This is amazing baby!”

“It has Mama on it for you and me and papa’s initials.” Your son smiled proudly as he explained.

“I love it. I’m going to wear it every day.” You leaned over and kissed your son Chubby cheek making him giggle. you turning to Charles and doing the same.

“Can you put it on me?” you asked Charles. Your husband smiles, “of course.”

You turned around letting Charles place the necklace around your neck. You looked down at it taking it in. You weren’t lying when you said you were going to wear it every day. It was beautiful, it’s going to be your prize possession forever.

“Im hungry.” You heard your son say. He eyeballed the bag on the table. Charles laughed. “Ok let’s eat breakfast then later we’re going to get ready so I can take maman on to other surprises.”

My request are open for any Charles fics because I have no ideas. Also if I write more dad fics what should I call the boy?

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female reader #dad! Charles leclerc

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wasawattpadkid · 1 year

Text

Housewife

Part - 6

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: ⚠️ explicit 18+ ⚠️ murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, oral fem!receiving, borderline degradation, orgasm dinial, bondage (hands being bound), blatant Billy x Stu stuff

Part 1

Stu pressed his face into Billy's shoulder running from the sunlight. "It's too early." He whined pulling his friend closer to him. Billy held him for a moment forgetting where they were. "Shit, where is she?" He pushed Stu away pulling the covers off himself. Stu dragged a pillow over his head hoping to drown out the light. Billy got out of bed heading down the stairs to the kitchen. The smell of food filled the air hitting him the moment he left your room.

"Morning sleepy head. How do you like your eggs?" You smiled at his current state. His hair was messy and his eyes were dark with sleep. "Uh over medium?" 'This couldn't be real' he thought to himself. It was all adding up now the house, the absent parents, you, it wasn't real. Some really realistic and very long dream. Maybe he was in a coma? If you were real you'd be almost as fucked up as him.

"Did you know you snore just a tiny bit?" You asked as you flipped his eggs. "I don't snore. Must've been Stu." He took a drink of the prefilled glass of orange juice in front of him. "It was definitely you. I kept waking up with your face in my neck and your snores were really loud next to my ear." Was that embarrassment he was feeling? "Sorry about that." He paused thinking of his next words. "So you're not mad that we slept in bed with you?" Bacon, eggs, and a perfect pancake laid next to each other on the plate. You nodded thinking that would be enough.

"I told you if it got too cold you could climb in bed with me." You sat his plate down making sure to leave him syrup. "Can I have a second plate? I don't like my eggs to touch my other food." You raised your eyebrows with a nod. "Sure thing." You handed him a saucer plate that came with the set. "How much do you remember last night?" You remembered all of it. The little tired act you pulled was a sham. A test is what you'd call it. Luckily they passed. "Listen Billy, I don't care about whatever's going on between you and Stu. This doesn't change anything." Billy could laugh. "You think I'm a homo?" His face was plastered with a sort of dumbfounded expression. "No, I just think you're Billy."

"I'm not like that. Stu's always been the one to bat for both teams." You pursed your lips with a nod. "All I'm saying is, you don't have to lie or hide. We've all got secrets and I'm not going to judge you in the slightest." You were wrong. But Billy focused on the underlining meaning of all you said. "What if I told you I was psychotic?" Billy asked no sign of a joke. "I'd tell you I was too." He bit off a piece of bacon. "And what if I said I was a stalker?" You laughed. "Me too. When I walk by a classroom I know you or Stu's in I look for you both just to watch you for a second, that's stalker behavior."

Billy almost choked on his food. God you really were innocent. "What's so funny?" You said laughing along side him. "Okay... What if... I said I've murdered people." You frowned. Does he really think he's that bad? "You're not a murderer." You said as you poured syrup on your pancake. "I know, but if I was what would you say?" You actually thought about it. Four days you've known him now, that's not enough to constitute a prison sentence for harboring a fugitive. "There's a reason for everything. I'd ask you why you did it."

"There's not always a reason, a "motive." I mean did Norman Bates have a motive? Did they ever really decide why Hannibal Lector liked to eat people?" The food in your mouth didn't seem as good as before. "Your logic is flawed Billy. Norman killed his mother because she was abusive and neglectful when was a child. That's motive. He murdered every woman he found attractive because his Mother's personality would be jealous and she needed Norman all to herself. Motive. And he murdered that cop because he didn't want to be caught. Once again motive." Billy sat wide eyes staring at you.

"Oh and Hannibal Lector was also abused as a child. In the book it says his sister was killed by some men who had taken Hannibal and his sister captive. They murdered his sister in front of him and then cooked her eventually serving pieces of her to Hannibal. You could look at it like a revenge plot that's motive or later on he shows obvious signs of narcissism. He thinks he is above everyone so eating them really isn't a problem. We eat animals because we think our lives mean more right?" Billy just nodded.

"Okay so if Hannibal thinks he is better and his life means more than everyone around him then is it really even cannibalism to him? He's completely detached so that's also motive. He's simply hunting his next meal like we would a pig or a cow." You took a drink of your orange juice waiting for a response. Billy was speechless. "You're not the only one who knows stuff Billy." You spoke finishing off your food. "I'm beginning to realize that."

Stu finally came downstairs and he finished up everything that was left over from your talk with Billy. "Do you always cook like this?" Stu asked wiping his mouth with a napkin. You washed dishes as the boys sat at the table. "When my dad is home I do. I don't really need to fix a whole meal if I'm the only one here." That made Stu think of what it was like for you here all alone. He hated being home alone it was like he was 10 years old and scared of the dark. Every little noise would make him paranoid. It wasn't until Billy moved in that he felt safe. Maybe you just needed someone to make you feel safe?

Stu had pulled out the deck of cards begging you and Stu to play rummy with him. That was an hour ago. "She is kicking our asses." Stu said as you shuffled the cards again. "Ooh okay I've got a question. Do guys try to create fake scenarios before they go to bed?" Both boys looked confused as you dealt the cards. "Like girls, before we go to bed we'll think of our crush or an actor and we'll plan out our own little movie in our head." You grew uncomfortable with the fear you sounded insane. "I've fantasized about things before bed." Stu said and Billy nodded in agreement.

"No that's not the same thing. Like you and Tatum. Do you plan little dates and stuff like that in your head?" Stu made a "pfft" noise looking at Billy who was smiling. "He's never taken her on a date. They just run around together." Your jaw dropped. "I have got to tell her to raise her standards." Stu sat down his cards interested in the conversation. "Okay Ms. Crocker what are you standards? I'm guessing you're very Catholic." He laughed and you made a face at him.

"First of all the guy I'm with has to take me out every once in awhile. Bring me flowers, write me notes, anything really to show he still cares." Billy didn't believe that. You might want that in some romanticized version of them but you knew that it wasn't realistic. "I've known you for almost a week and I can already tell you fall in love with anyone who gives you 5 seconds of attention."

You acted shocked at the incredibly correct description of you. "Whatever. Can't a girl want someone to take her out and show her off? I'm a prize and I will be treated as such." Billy finished of his drink sitting the glass down with a click. "Until the first guy that comes along says he liked your outfit and then you're ready for marriage." You really couldn't argue with that. "Yeah pretty much."

"I'm bored. Winning time after time does get a little old." You said putting down your cards. "We could play truth or dare." Billy looked between you and Stu deciding to do whatever you wanted to do. Truth or dare was a kids game. One you were skilled at playing. "I'm game unless Billy's chicken." You elbowed him playfully. "I never say no to a game."

You and the boys moved to the living room floor. Stu laid on his stomach, his chin resting on his palms. Billy however was sat criss cross his posture straight and on edge. "You go first since it's your house." Stu suggested. "Um okay. Stu, truth or dare?" He kicked his feet in thought. "Dare." You hated thinking of dares it was the hardest part of the game.

"I dare you to put on lipstick." Billy breathed out a laugh. "Do I get to pick the color?" Stu asked not at all phased by the dare. "Sure let me go grab my makeup bag. You jumped up running to your bathroom. Just as fast you ran back to the living room. "I've got pink, red, maroon, black, and orange."

"I'm about to waste my turn on making you wear the black." Billy said, surprised you owned such a color. "I went through a phase." You laughed as Stu grabbed the red. You gave him the compact you brought in letting him slowly smear on the waxy pigment. "How do I look?" He flipped his imaginary long hair. "Actually you pull it off." You said staring at his lips for a little too long. "Billy, truth or dare?"

Billy looked at Stu not ready for him to pick a dare. "Truth." You once again saw a silent conversation playing across their eyes. "Have you ever made a sex tape?" Stu said looking his friend up and down. "I knew you'd eventually bring up sex." You huffed with a laugh. "I have not. I'm more of a picture man myself." Billy locked eyes with you making your cheeks grow hot. "Truth or dare Y/n?" You didn't feel at ease by picking either of those. Go big or go home was what your grandparents always said.

"Dare." Stu proceeded to make the "ooh" sound as if someone just got into trouble. "I dare you to play the rest of this game with your hands tied." If your face wasn't hot before it was burning now. "Now that's a dare baby!" Stu shouted kicking his feet like a school girl. You looked around the room for something to get the job done. You grabbed a scarf sitting on the end table by the couch. "Which one of you knows how to tie a knot?" Both boys volunteered but Billy was the one to actually do it. "Don't rip it, it's vintage." Billy rolled his eyes roughly tugging your arms towards him. His quickness in wrapping your wrists was making you wonder how many times he's done this before.

"There you are." He marveled at his work for a moment. You pulled back resting your bound hands in your lap. "My turn!" You cheered. "Wait, you're not going to try to get out of it? See if the knot is good?" Billy expected you to pull at the knot with your teeth just to show him you could. Thinking back to the little race you had at the mall you seemed like the type to try to show people up. That was one thing about you he didn't care for. "No? You told me to keep my hands tied for the rest of the game."

You saw his pupils dilate just a little. It was like catching lighting in a bottle to you. Billy liked the fact you mindlessly followed orders. You were a smart girl but you were dumb for him. "Truth or dare?" You asked Stu ready to continue the game. "Um... Hmm... Let me think?" His sarcasm made you bite your lip to stop from smiling. "Dare." You had one in mind already and it was hazardous. If this didn't go as planned it wouldn't be good for anyone in the room. On the flip side of that if this went how you were sure it would you three would be great friends from here on out.

"I dare you to sit on Billy's lap for the next round." Stu snapped his neck turning to Billy but the brooding boy kept his eyes on you. Billy wanted to know your angle. The reason you did things. You said it yourself everyone has a reason for doing something. What was yours? "Is that alright man?" Stu asked and Billy nodded with a huff. "Just get over here." Stu didn't need to be told twice. He mouthed a quick "thank you" making you smile. You saw Billy's eyes shut in what could be perceived as pain as Stu wiggled around trying to get comfortable. "Stop. Moving." Billy placed his hand on Stu's thigh keeping him still.

"It's my turn right?" Billy asked while he leaned back, one arm propping him up off the ground. "Sure is." Stu quipped. "Truth or dare?" At this point you'd look like a chicken if you said truth. "Dare." Billy's tongue swiped over his teeth before he spoke. "I want you and Stu-y here to make out." He smacked his friends back borderline hurting him. You didn't plan for that and by the looks of it neither did Stu. "I can't leave your lap remember?" The boy on his lap spoke. "You don't have to, she can crawl over." He spoke matter of factly. "I don't remember being dared anything." You challenged. "You said you wanted us to make out. That might say something about you but it's not a dare."

"You're a smartass." He spit playfully. "I dare you and Stu to make out. Is that better sweetheart?" Billy spoke the last word with a condescending tone. Which given the context, you'd pay to hear it again. "Perfect." You crawled over to the boys sitting back on the heels of your feet. Stu leaned down whispering an affirmation. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to." You weren't sure if the sudden sweet nature was because of where he was sitting or if it's always been there and you just haven't noticed.

A silent nod was all he needed to press his lips against yours. Stu was scared to move. He had that feeling you only get when you're about to drop off the highest spot on a rollercoaster. He wasn't quite sure where to go from here. You moved your lips against his showing him you were okay. Gently his hand cupped your jaw the same way he did with Tatum the other night. This wasn't commanding however he was simply holding you in the best way he could. Billy grunted as Stu's hips began to move again subconsciously.

The polite kisses became hungry as he pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth. A soft moan could be heard coming from you. Billy had seen enough. He grabbed his friends shoulders pulling him back. You caught your breath as you looked at the ground. Stu's face was bright crimson in embarrassment but Billy couldn't ignore the love drunk expression on his partners face. You were done playing truth or dare. "Can you untie me?" You held out your hands towards Billy trying to ignore the obvious tent in his pants. Slowly he made his way over to you crawling like a predator stalking it's prey.

"No, the dare was you had to keep them tied till the end of the game." You shook your head with an awkward laugh. "Well truth or dare is over." His face was a breath away from yours. "You're right but our game isn't over." Stu watched as Billy pressed his lips onto yours. You picked up right where you left off with Stu. In a way the short haired boy felt cheated on. He felt he went through a whole relationship with you in that one little kiss and now he watched his best friend take what was never his to begin with.

Billy hovered over you as he laid you back against the floor. Pulling his lips away he noticed how every single person here had rid lipstick smeared along thier face. "Stu come here, I need your help." You turned your head watching your friend fumble over towards the both of you. "Keep her busy like you were earlier. Can you do that for me baby?" Billy asked as his hand held Stu's chin. He nodded earning a gentle tap on the cheek from his friend. "Good boy." You watched their whole dynamic change right in front of you. Suddenly all Billy had was pet names and Stu was practically silent.

Stu was waiting for something but he wasn't sure what. "Please..." You whispered pushing him a step further. He leaned his head down kissing your neck. Softly at first leaving a small trail of kisses across your collarbones. Then he began licking and sucking at the skin trying not to leave a mark. Small sounds fought their way up your throat presenting themself like a gift from God to Stu. You really didn't care where Billy went as long as Stu continued what he was doing.

He nibbled at your earlobe forcing you to rub your thighs together. You barley felt your shorts being slipped down your legs. Little kisses began at your ankles slowly trailing up your legs. The higher they got the sloppier they became. "You're not even trying to win the game." Billy shook his head expecting more from you. "What.. are the rules?" You moaned out Stu now marking up your chest. With a laugh Billy said, "You know I hadn't even thought about that." God he was a prick and you were a horrible person for thinking it made him hotter.

Stu lifted your top pulling it above your breasts. "You're so pretty..." He said without thought. Somehow that word meant more than all the other words in that moment. "You're not too bad yourself handsome." He looked at the floor with a big grin on his face. With a quick shake of his head he went back to work. Your tied up hands played with his hair as he swirled his tounge around your hot skin. Billy ran a finger up the middle of your panties, the unexpected feeling making your hips jolt. "Guess foreplay really does work." Your head tossed back with a suffocated moan as Stu tugged gently at your nipples. One being teased by his teeth just to be soothed by his tounge seconds later.

Billy squatted next to Stu just watching your face contort in pleasure. "If you weren't such a prude I could totally see you as one of those Victoria's Secret models." He spoke running his hand along your cheek. Billy grabbed the back of Stu's shirt peeling him off of you to your dissatisfaction. "Why don't you show her your hidden talent hmm?" The sinister smile on Stu face made your stomach twist and pussy throb. Billy stayed next to you watching as Stu pulled off your panties. "Toss em'." Billy spoke catching the underwear after his friend pitched them. He waved the damp fabric above you. "How important are these to you?" Stu began kissing and biting your thighs not leaving much room for you to talk. "You can have them!" You blurted as your hands tugged at Stu's hair. "That's sweet of you. I was going to take them anyways but thanks for the permission."

Stu ran his long tongue up your folds making the world stop for a second. His hands pulled your thighs further apart giving him more room to work. "His tongue is by far one of my favorite things about him." Billy's finger traced your throat slowly making his way to your breasts. He pinched your nipple between his fingers making your back arch up off the ground. "Fuck!" You cried and Billy smiled. Your grip on Stu's hair became almost painful but he couldn't care less.

Your thighs wrapped around his face as you crossed your ankles on his back. "Don't kill him, I need him for this next part." Billy laughed. His thumb pulled at your lip debating on where all this should go. "Stu! Babe, please! Don't stop. Seriously don't fucking move just keep doing that." Your fear of that building pleasure disappearing was recognized by everyone in the room. "Stu stop." Billy commanded and you gave him a crazed look. "Please don't I'm begging you." Stu's eyes looked up between the both of you not sure who to obey. "Baby I mean it. Stop." The pressure was gone and so was any sort of happiness. "I'm going to kill you." You spat at the men.

"You're really scary." Billy scoffed waving at Stu to come over to him. Without any sort of warning to either you or Stu, Billy pressed his lips against the boy's. Billy's tongue swirled around tasting you secondhand. Your brain was fried. You were not longer mad but you were sure to explode. A knock came at the front door scaring the shit out of you and Stu. "Oh for fuck's sake." Billy groaned pushing his friend back.

"Y/n?" At that voice Billy's face grew pale. "Stu help her with her clothes now." You wanted to cry. "Why the fuck are they here?" Stu whispered everyone panicking at the same time. "Please open up!" Sydney called out as Tatum continued banging on the door. Once you had your clothes on the two boys ran towards the stairs. "Shit my hands you idiots!" You whisper yelled making Billy run to you quickly untying the knots. "You've got lipstick all over you." Billy said smiling at the markings. "God damnit!" You ran upstairs grabbing a makeup wipe off your desk. You frantically rubbed your neck running back downstairs. "Here." Billy said snatching the wipe from you. He wiped the color from your face making sure to get most of it off your chest. "Better?" You asked. "It's gone." With a smack on your ass, Billy ran up to your room following Stu. You reeked of sex and you looked like it too.

"Coming!" You yelled running around trying to find something to spray the air with. Air freshener filled the room and thankfully covered you. Quickly you fixed your hair and opened the door. "Yeah?" Tatum pushed past you walking into the living room where a horrible display of debauchery had just occurred. "Okay." You said as Sydney followed her friend. "The killer called me last night." Sydney said on the brink of tears. "He's a fucking psychopath. He told her he'd kill her like he killed her mother." Tatum said, quickly apologizing to Sydney for the graphic rehash.

Billy and Stu stood there completely taken aback. "I thought you said you had to plan around this!" Stu snapped. "We did- we do! Why would you call Syd last night? Are you that fucking dumb?" Billy poked Stu understandably pissed about being blindsided by his best friend. "I went to sleep last night unlike you. Don't blame this shit on me because it backfired." They argued back and forth while you talked to the girls downstairs. "Okay so what do we do?" You asked hoping for a good answer. "You could stay at my place till this bastard's caught. My mom doesn't want you staying here by yourself."

You sat your head in your hands ready to cry. You didn't know what to do or who to trust. "I couldn't intrude like that." You said as Sydney sat down next to you on the couch. More so you didn't know what to do with the two men stashed in your bedroom. "That's crazy. We'd rather have you intrude than be murdered." Sydney said resting her hand on your knee. Tatum just nodded. "We're not taking no for an answer." The blonde said.

"I'll meet you all over at your place. I've got some stuff to do before I go." You shouted down the stairs hearing the front door close behind them. "What's going on?" Billy played dumb. "There's a serial killer running around that's what. You two need to get home and stay safe." You grabbed a bag from your closet packing clothes. "Where are you going?" Stu asked a little sad at the outcome of today. "I'm going to Tatum's place for a bit." Billy and Stu just stood there watching you angrily pack away your things. This was their fault. You were scared because of them. It genuinely made them both feel like shit.

"There's a spare key under the rock in the flower pot outside. Get your car and make sure to lock the place up when you leave." You didn't mean to be short with them or make them think you were mad. You enjoyed your time with them but you realized after they ran off and hid that this wasn't real. You had romanticized another situation that would never in a million years be real.

Part 7

Taglist: @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @bluedevilss @life-of-music3 @blkroyalty1 @littleblondesoprano @imobsessedreader @knifes0ldier @nicciekawegosblog

(If your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)

#billy loomis #ghostface #scream #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #scream 1996 #scream fanfic #scream fanfiction #scream x reader #ghostface x female reader #stu ghostface #billy loomis ghostface #billy loomis masterlist #stu macher fluff #stu macher x reader #stu macher

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dawnwriterimagines · 9 months

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debt that’s owed : Fezco (3)

Summary: Laurie needs someone to pay her the debt that’s owed to her, Rue ran from her, which gives her the perfect opportunity to use Fezco’s words against him. But, is she worth you?

Warning(s): Angst, talk of overdose, Fear, Drugs, mentions of sex trafficking, Laurie’s crazy ass once again, etc.

(PART 1) (PART 2)

Author’s Note: What a beautiful man we lost, in every sense of the word. Rest in Peace Angus. Gone too soon. We all love and appreciate the works you’ve done, the lives you’ve changed and the love you give, rest well in beautiful peace.

Buy me a Coffee? Ko-Fi

- - -

You had woken up disoriented and drugged, a needle still sticking out of your arm, a few too many holes made that made your skin splotchy and purple. Laurie had been standing over you, hushing you as she took the needle from your skin, kissing your wrist as a mother would have her only child before she stood. “Laurie...” you sighed out, trying to make sense of what was happening. “Laurie. Please...”

The older woman rubbed your cheek, “Shhh...” the touch running through your system all the way down to your toes, you took a breath, shivering at the discomfort. “They don’t like it when you girlies talk too much, hush now, sweetie.” You’d never felt like this before. You felt terrible.

She left the door open when she left the room, a man you didn’t recognize peeking through the crack of the doorway to look at you, he gave a pleased laugh, whistling.

You turned on the floor, the blanket beneath you did nothing to shelter you from the cold floor below. The lights were dim from the tiny lamp in the corner, nothing else in the room, but it wasn’t very big anyway.

It took a while to realize you were naked, only from recalling what you had been wearing earlier, and the cold air that you could feel everywhere but nowhere all at once, cause you were sweating terribly. Feeling incredibly hot all of a sudden. You rolled around, pulling the blanket with you as you broke out into a fever, the discomfort you felt was enough to distract you from the horrifying situation you were in currently.

“Laurie...” you drawled, whimpering as the drugs took you once again. It didn’t feel right at all, you felt sick and you felt fucking amazing all at the same time, but you were scared most of all. You had no idea what she had been pumping you with for the last few hours. “Fez...” you called for your boyfriend, sobbing as your eyes rolled back as you quickly succumbed to the feeling. “Fezziee...” you hiccupped.

“I like this one,” you heard the stranger say.

The man at the doorway pulled out a scrunched up wad of cash from his pocket, beginning to slide off his jacket, before Laurie stopped him with a shake of her head. “Just watching for now. She’s not ready yet, still under prep. But, if you wanted to purchase her, that’s different...”

You shivered as you followed your high, wondering what would happen next and if Fezco would ever find you before something horrible happened to you.

- - -

Fezco looks around as he rushes over to Rue, checking for anyone that was around the house that may be unwanted, clearly on edge. “What the hell are you doin’ here, Rue?” he questioned the girl, she follows the two of them into the house. “Imma need you to leave, I ain’t askin’.”

Her gaze lingering on the broken screen door, unable to even close it as it had no knob now, the whole piece completely gone as if it’d been blown to pieces, “I wanted to hang out...but obviously you’ve got some shit goin’ on,” her eye’s going wide at the state of the house. “What the--what the fuck happened here?” the glass on the floor, the broken deck doorway, the flipped table, the broken lamp on the floor, the scuffled carpet.

Rue steps into the house, slowly, Ash getting on the computer, looking for something, Fezco making a call, his shoulders low as if something heavy sat upon them. The girl’s eye’s narrowing as she followed the scuffs over to the room hallway, the bedroom down the hall had its door broken down, wooden pieces still on the floor.

Concerned was not the word to describe how she felt right. Scared wasn’t either. Worried, maybe. But, she was also pretty terrified. Terrified of the answer to her next question.

“Fez,” she hadn’t torn her eyes away from the hallway when she spoke, her voice small, reluctant. “Where’s (Y/n)?” she turns then, her brows knitted together in complete worry, stumbling forwards and away from the hall. She makes her way over to Fezco, taking a handful of his shirt as she pulls him, “Fez!” her voice breaks, her fists shaking, “Where is she?!” she sucks in a breath as she sees his face and the way he doesn’t look her in the eye. “No...” she shook her head. “What so she’s...she’s what? She’s gone?” her voice raising. “Is (y/n) gone, Fez? Come on, gimme something!”

“She’s not gone,” Fezco turned to her with a hardened look, pulling her hands from his shirt, the material stretching out as her grip hadn’t loosened. “Imma find her. Imma find her and kill the motha’fucker that did this,” he seethed to himself, stepping away from her. “Ash, go over the tapes. Try yesterday and this morning, find a camera that isn’t fucked with.”

Ash doesn’t say anything but nod, rushing to the room down the hall as Fezco took the laptop from him, sitting down on the couch, Rue following Fezco, still confused with what was going on.

“Who...wait, who did this?” Rue asked, loudly. “Stop ignoring me, man.”

“I told you to fuckin’ go home, Rue,” Fezco’s eyes flickered up to the girl before back down at the screen, rewatching this morning’s tapes, trying to find someone he recognized. “I ain’t need this right now.”

“Need what? I’m tryin’ to help you,” Rue frowned, offended. “I wanna help! My best friend’s fucking missing, well...kidnapped, by some fucking jackass and even trashed your crib,” she gestured around the house at the damage. “Lemme do something, I can help! I can help find her!”

Fezco looked up toward her, agitated. “You wanna do somethin’ helpful?”

“Yeah, dude!” She nodded before making a face. “Wait, you aren’t gonna just tell me to leave--”

“Go home, Rue.”

“Oh, come on!” she yelled out. “I can help you! I be doin’ mad detective shit. Besides you need all the help you can get, it’s not like you can ask the guys in blue.”

Fezco ignored her for now, trying to stay focused. “Just go sit down somewhere, man. I don’t got time for this.”

And so, reluctantly, Rue went towards the other side of the couch, around towards Ashtray, she sticks her head out of the sliding panel doorway, which was now gone, broken through. Alarmed, she looks down at the glass at her feet, it crunches, burying itself further into the carpet.

Behind her, Ashtray took a note from his pocket, letting it sit on the coffee table, sliding it over to his brother. “This gotta mean something. Wanna run this through some contacts?”

Fezco thinks on it, before nodding at the idea. “Yeah, man. Let’s try it.”

As they head back to work, Rue perks up at the new source of info, “Wait, ya’ll got a clue?” coming over to the coffee table, picking up the note, Fezco fumes and Ashtray gaps at the girl’s unwanted involvement.

“Rue!” Fezco grits. “What I just tell you, man!” He usually saw her presence as quite endearing

Rue brushes him off. “I’m good at riddles, just--” then she really looks at the note. 10k.

10k...?

Oh my fucking god, 10k.

As Fezco snatches the note from her grip, Rue stands there, horrified. Her expression morphing completely, shoulders stiffening and hands tensing up, she turns quickly so Fezco can’t see the mortified look on her face. The guilt that quickly begins to eat at her.

She had thought about it, of course. Of the money she owed Laurie, the drug dealer that she had made a fake deal with in a pathetic effort to get the pills that her regular plug, Fez, had been refusing her. In some way, she blamed Fezco, if he had just given her the damn pills and let her deal with whatever happened to her later, maybe she would’ve never went to Laurie, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten kidnapped...

No, it was her fault, oh my god it her fault. She went to Laurie cause she was fucking desperate and then she ran when Laurie had gotten her the first time, but now you were taken in her place.

She recalled being drugged out of her mind, just as she wanted, but locked in a room and awaiting to be sold for a fuck.

Rue feels so goddamn sick all of a sudden. She wanted to vomit.

God, that’s what you could be dealing with right now.

She did this. Oh god, she did this to you.

But, Fezco does notice.

“Rue...” he says, slowly.

Ashtray looks up, stopping in his typing. He glances between the two of them silently, before looking at Rue a bit more seriously, taking note of the way her entire demeanor’s changed. He closed the laptop.

Rue didn’t answer Fezco, didn’t even turn to face him, trying to think of something to say, anything that could defend why. But what could she possibly say besides the fact it was supposed to be her.

Fezco forcefully turned the girl around, “Rue!” to which she stumbled back away from him, her face made his stomach drop, knowing now that she knew exactly why this was happening. “You...”

“I didn’t know, I swear, ok?” Rue started, hyperventilating, sniffling as she wiped a panicked tear from her face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I felt like I was fucking dying, Fez! I was dying! And I--I just--Fez!” she cried as he turned from her, running his hands over his hair, down his face, trying to gather himself, trying to keep himself together. “Fez, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please, I didn’t think she’d come after anyone, I didn’t think any of it would go this far, please--”

Ashtray’s eyes widened, lost for words.

“RUE!” Fezco roared, his body snapping towards her, pinched fingers silencing her, “Motherf--FUCK! Are you fucking--!” he shoved at the side wall, hitting anything that wasn’t her as anger overwhelmed him. “Are you out of your fucking mind, Rue?!” he couldn’t believe this. How far the girl had really fell to really get herself, to get you, into this kind of situation.

“I know! I know! I know!” Rue sobbed, covering her face as Fez screamed at her. “Fucking god, I know! I messed up!”

“DO YOU?! Cause (y/n)’s paying for your bullshit, your fucking dumb ass, fuck shit! You mother--get the fuck out,” he fumed, running a hand over his mouth, gesturing to the door. He turned from her, he couldn’t even stand to look at her right now.

Rue sniffled, shaking. “Fez...Fez, I’m sorry. I can fix it, I can--”

“GET. THE FUCK,” Fezco explodes. “OUT!”

And Rue has no other choice but to leave, casting a guilty glance to Ashtray as well, who stares her down as if he were ready to pull the trigger on her with the glock he currently suddenly had in his hand.

She quickly left the house, sobbing to herself, hardly able to breathe as she stumbled away from the steps. “I’m sorry...” she hiccupped, turning to the house. “I’m sorry, please...” she whispered. “I can fix this...please, I can...I can fix this.”

Rue made her way away from the house though. Making up her mind to fix this. She can fix this...

- - -

Fezco and Ashtray took their guns, a few mags full of bullets and as much cash they had stashed up, just over 8k, not enough to cover, given the raid that cut their stash short for a while. But, if Laurie wouldn’t take the bribe than getting violent was the next best thing. And Fezco didn’t mind the latter.

So when they arrived at Laurie’s home, weapons tucked into their waist bands, into the inner pockets of their jackets, Fezco parked up, Ashtray loading up his shotgun and snapping the end back into place. “Blow the bitch’s head off if this don’t work out, ight man.”

“That’s the plan, bruh,” Ash said, his young face hardened with his hatred for the sadistic dealer that had stolen his mother from him..

Fezco leaves the car, walking up to the house, fighting the urge to kick the door in and unload every bullet into someone’s fucking skull...”What’chu want, man?” Bruce, Laurie’s partner, large and intimidating in his size, glared down at Fezco.

The young man wasn’t swayed, unblinking eyes peering up at him. “Laurie.”

Bruce frowned at the tone. “You got yo’ shit this month, ain’t you? Unless you got payment already?”

“Laurie, man,” Fezco fought to keep his cool. “Where is she?”

Bruce put his hand on the gun he kept at the waistband of his trunks, “What you gotta say ta her, you can say to me.”

Fezco stood there a while, the two men exchanging violent glares, eyes boring into the other and Fezco itched to grab the gun at his side and let loose. But, he didn’t even know if you were even at this house, he needed to know first. “Ma girl...(y/n), where she at, bruh?”

Bruce smirked, straightening. “Shoulda started with that,” Fezco’s nostrils flared at his words. “You got the money to buy her back, huh?”

“She ain’t belong to nobody, man. And ya’ll fucked wit us with some shit that ain’t got nothin’ to do with her,” Fezco gritted his teeth. “Thought we was cool on this bullshit, bruh.”

“You said she was family,” came Laurie’s soft-spoken voice. She came around the corner, behind Bruce, patting her husband’s arm to back him up, “Didn’t you?”

“She’s a fuckin’ child. And got her ass into some shit. But, if you had a problem wit us, come to me,” Fezco sneered. “You came up and took ma girl--” his nails bite into the palms of his hand, he itched to kill this fucking bitch and her demented ass husband. “Where the fuck is she?”

Laurie calmly stepped in front of Fezco. “Don’t worry, Fez. She’s ok,” she assured him, with dead eyes and a quiet voice. “But, remember, I still need 10 thousand, and another few hundred more for a few packs of morphine, a bit of fentanyl...” as Laurie spoke, Fezco’s heart clenched.

Fezco tosses the bag at her feet, “A lil’ over $8500 in there,” he said. “I don’t give a fuck if it ain’t enough for you, you took my girl, all your fucked bullshit, trashed ma crib, my fucking family--” he huffed harshly to contain himself. “This all you fucking gettin’ from me, and it’s more than you’ll ever get from us again. Where. Is. She. You fucking bitch.”

Bruce took a step towards him at his words, stopped by Laurie, who held a hand up to keep him where he was, entranced by the rage on the young man’s face. “That’s fair, I suppose.”

“Laurie--” Bruce began.

“Come on in, she’s right in here, Fez,” she welcomed him inside.

Fezco followed her inside, Bruce sneering at him, to which Fezco didn’t bother to acknowledge, all he was focused on now was finally getting his hands back on you, rescuing you from this dreaded place.

Laurie stopped in front of a locked room, pulling out a key from her pocket, the lock clicks open. She takes the lock off and opens the heavy door with a light grunt, the dim lighting offering nothing much, but it was light enough to see you in the middle of the room.

Breathing harshly, turned on your side, skin drenched with sweat, “Fez...” you drawl out, constantly. “Fez...Fez...” you cried, silently, delirious as you tossed and turned.

Fezco races into the room, “Ma!” he cries, sliding to his knees at your side, quickly sitting you up, wrapping the thin blanket around your naked frame. “Hey, hey, baby, hey,” he gently slaps your cheek, stroking your flushed face as you shiver in his arms, your eyes unfocused, rolling in the back of your head.

He didn’t like that, taking your face in his hand. “(y/n), (y/n) look at me, look at me, come on, ma. Look at me,” he turned your head to look him in the eye, “Please, baby, can you look at me, you can, you got it, ya see,” you slowly began to regain consciousness, eye sight clearing. “That’s my girl. Look, you’re ok, you’re alright,” he rubs your arms, you’re freezing but you’re sweating terribly.

“Fez...” you whispered.

“I’m right here, ma,” he assured you. Picking you up off the ground, blanket wrapped tight. “I’m right here. I gotchu, come on, we’re going home, baby,” he stands, heading to the door. Casting a long glare to a calmly smiling Laurie, before exiting the room, he couldn’t afford to do any damage, not when you were in this condition.

“I don’t feel...” you spoke, loosely. Head limp against his shoulder, eyes hardly open. “I don’t feel that great, fez...”

“You’re alright, you’re alright, ok?” Fezco went down the hall as fast as he could, keeping the fear out of his voice, the panic from his tone.

Coming up to the front door, where he found Rue standing at the steps. Bruce had a short stack of cash in hand that he didn’t have before, less than 10k clearly, but enough to make him happy enough to move out of the way when Fezco made his way past.

The young girl was crying hard, relief clear in her face as she saw Fezco come around the corner with you in his arms, but the state of you made her heart drop. “(Y/n)...hey, is she alright?” she asked, worriedly. “Fez...” To which Fezco brushed her off, moving past her without as much as a word of acknowledgement.

Ashtray opens passenger door for Fez to place you in, buckling you up as you slump, quickly beginning to pass out once again. “Hey, don’t sleep. Wake up. Mom!” Ashtray startles you awake, leaning over towards you in the backseat as Fezco runs around to the other side to the driver seat. Rue enters the backseat, hesitantly, and stays quiet to not be noticed. She looks at your tired, uncomfortable face in the side mirror, and she cries a bit harder.

Fezco drives off with a final glance to Laurie and her husband waving them off at the step, as if they had just passed by for tea and cookies. The psychopaths'. They waved, knowing he’d be back for blood.

“You’re ok,” he says as he drives. Squeezing your thigh as you shift and turn, “You’re ok, hey, ma. Ma, baby,” he draws your attention. “Hey, there you are, baby.”

You’re lucid and high off whatever the hell must be in your system when you smile at him, “Hi, baby...” you smile at him, before slumping once again.

Terrified what may happen if you fall asleep, he yells. “(Y/n)!” he startles you awake again.

“I’m sorry,” you cry.

“You’re ok, it’s ok, just keep awake for a little alright?”

“Can we go home now...” you wondered, quietly.

“On our way,” Ashtray says. Fezco glances at his little brother in the mirror.

But, they don’t go home. They stop by a friend’s spot, who had offered to let them crash for the next few days, since he was out of town and they were in some shit.

Entering the home, Fezco carries you to the tub, Rue following behind, as Ash locks the door behind him. Filling up the tub as you lean against the porcelain edge, the warm water clearly calming you, the sound of the running pipe...

But before anything, Fezco sticks his fingers down your throat, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats as he forces you to gag up anything you might have ingested, emptying out your stomach contents, which wasn’t much. You sniffle and cry, hacking up whatever you could get out, leaning against your lover as your stomach churns in discomfort.

He then helps you into the tub, the water climbing to your chest. Cleaning the dirt from the floor you had been laying on, the dried blood and the horrors of the day...

Fezco takes off his sweater and his jeans, left only in his underwear, he steps into the tub behind you, holding you close, “There you go, baby,” he soothingly speaks to you, kissing your forehead as he squeezes you. “You’re alright now. I’ve gotchu, I got you...”

He glances down at the holes in your arm, bruised and crusted with blood, your hands were cut from the glass earlier. He raised one of your hands to his lips as you turned to lean your cheek to his chest, and he began to cry, closing his eyes tightly.

You slept as he wept.

But he was grateful he had gotten you back.

At least god had given him that much today.

He kissed your hands, your knuckles, your cut skin, the tips of your fingers.

Then, he just held you to him as the faucet dripped to a stop.

- - -

Awakening in a strange bed, in an unfamiliar place, you stood fast and out of the bed, your back slamming against the wall in surprise. You reached for a light switch, but you couldn’t see anything around you, nothing felt familiar at all, you shook in terror as the man you laid next to stirred and sat up in your mad scramble for light.

“No, no, please!” you collapsed in the corner, covering your mouth before the stranger could even say a thing, he had stood too fast for you to think nothing else but soon violence brought against you.

“Ma! It’s me! It’s me,” Fezco found a light switch, the dark, unfamiliar room illuminating, to reveal himself to you. “It’s just me.”

You released a heavy sigh of relief, that visible took a weight off your chest. But, it also made your tears run fast, the days having been too much for you, the thought alone had brought you down to your knees and crushed you before you even knew it wasn’t true.

Fezco quickly went around the bed, coming to sit in front of you, to which you fell into his arms, quickly wrapping your arms around him. “I’m sorry,” you sobbed. “I thought someone--I didn’t know if I--” Fezco interrupts you with a simple stroke of her cheeks, running his thumbs across your cheekbones to soothe your thoughts and wipe your tears.

“I know, I know,” he whispered to her, his voice cracks as his control leaves him. It pains him too much to see you break like this. “But, what happened, huh? You’re here with me. They didn’t get you, baby. They didn’t. You’re here with me.”

“You saved me,” you hiccupped, holding him desperately, just wishing to be close enough to feel nothing but him. “I thought I’d never see you again. That I’d never see Ash.”

“Impossible, ma,” he said, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Can neva get rid of me, you know that. And Ash on his own lil’ demon time, he ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

You release a watery laugh at his joke, sniffling harshly as Fezco rocks you in his arms, safely keeping you wrapped up in his embrace.

There’s a knock at the door, they raise their heads, Ashtray entering the room, silently. He stands there for a second as he shuts the door behind him, he shifts from one foot to the other, eyes glancing around, a frown on his face.

“Ash?” you whispered, looking to the boy. Fez knew though, what was wrong.

As Ashtray looked at you finally, his frown deepened, but it wasn’t a frown, just a miserable look he couldn’t hide anymore, a joy that trailed to sadness and brought tears to his usually hardened eyes. And then suddenly, Ash looked like the little boy that you had always allowed him to be, and that he would’ve never been again if you had gone.

“Ash...” you spoke, softly. Reaching out to him, you pulled him by the wrist, into your arms this time. And he broke like glass.

Like a dam, his tears flow like a downpour. An unwilling sob escapes him as he sniffles and cries into your shoulder, embracing you as he hoped he’d be able to every time he prayed to God for your safe return.

You kissed Ashtray’s forehead, stroking his face, his hair, and you squeezed him like no one ever had. You breathe deeply, a shiver leaves you as you fight your own tears, “Oh, my sweet boy,” you hold him close, as he buries himself to you. “I love you, I love you.” You say it fast, and you say it with all the love you have, like it could be your last time.

Complete. Is how their family felt again. Fezco engulfed himself in the feeling. The thought of losing you, the absence of you, it would’ve destroyed them.

Fezco leans his forehead to his brother’s, knocking heads gently, the boy peering up to him as he sniffles into your neck. The big brother tenderly rubs his little brother’s head, he kisses his soon wife and let them both fall into his chest, into the side of the bed.

And like the family they were, they collapsed against one another, holding each other tight.

Everything’s ok.

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#fezco #fezco x reader #fezco imagine #fezco supremacy #fezco euphoria #euphoria #euphoria fanfiction #euphoria x reader #fezco angst #fez #fezco euphoria x reader #angus cloud #rip angus cloud

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turtletaubwrites · 11 days

Text

Numbers Game ~ Part 19

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 3885

Ao3 Link

Summary: You reveal your secret.

Author's Note: Thank you soo much for all of the support and encouragement, especially with the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one! 😭💜🙏🏼 (BIG DRAMA & EMOTIONS WARNING)

Alternate POV Symbols:

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Vaginal Fingering, PIV Sex, Hair-Pulling, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

“Can I have a drink?”

Four powerful pirates blinked at you.

It was strange to be on this side of the coffee table. Buggy sat in your spot on the couch between the other leaders of the Guild, while Shanks had pulled up a chair beside Crocodile.

Your green, velvet chair felt like an examination table. Like you were under a microscope, about to get chopped into tiny pieces to be studied.

Buggy had clung to you all morning, barely going a moment without touching you during breakfast. You were grateful he hadn’t tried to feed you any fruit. That thought sent your eyes flicking toward the red haired pirate, more bile climbing up your throat. Buggy’s floating hand rested on yours while they all stared, but you couldn’t get yourself to hold onto it.

“What would you like to–”

“I’ll get it,” you jumped up, cutting Mihawk off, and leaving Buggy’s hand to float alone when you pushed it away to stand. The little bar felt like miles away, and you grabbed the first thing you could see. Crocodile’s stinky scotch in its pretty crystal bottle. You poured a heaping glass, vaguely hearing a reaction from the couch before you chugged the burning liquor.

“What the fuck, baby?”

“Y/N, stop!”

“Don’t— rabbit!”

The three of them surrounded you, snagging the bottle and empty glass from your hands too late while you coughed from that toxic, liquid fire. Crocodile got to you first, kneeling out from the sand at your feet to grab your flushed face, wiping away the stinging tears that you knew wouldn’t be the last.

“Sweetheart, why–”

“Sweetheart,” you choked out, the sound a mix between a laugh and a sob. “Gods, I’m sorry, I– fuck.”

The looks on their faces made you want to scream. You rubbed your eyes with the meat of your palms, trying to be less fucking pathetic.

“Drink, love,” Mihawk soothed, holding a glass of water to your lips.

“We’re right here, star,” Buggy whispered as he pressed a light kiss to your shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

“It’s okay,” Crocodile promised, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’re our Numbers Girl, no matter what. Alright?”

Your body slumped, nodding as you let them guide you back under that microscope. Shanks was staring at you, but nothing meant anything anymore, so you didn’t bother to study his face.

They let you sit there. Time was empty. It could have been minutes or years before you finally mustered up the energy to ruin everything.

“I’m fucking stupid,” you announced with a sharp laugh, feeling insane.

Maybe I am. Maybe he did put me away.

“Don’t talk like tha–”

“What do you mean, sweet girl?”

“You.”

Growling at your scarred lover, confessions, and a suicidal accusation flowed through your body, spilling out through your eyes and lips.

“You were going to kill us if I wasn’t useful. I could have been free, but I… I called those people for you.”

Crocodile’s face was as cold and unmoving as stone, a cliff you could leap off of.

If only you could have stopped. No one said a word, but the energy was already rolling through you, destroying everything, your throat still raw from that fucking scotch.

“I was an idiot. I was fucking kidding myself thinking I could wait, thinking I could have a few more days.” Your manic laughter turned to pain, a sob hitting your last words.

Glancing up at the couch, you saw your three men clenching their jaws. Crocodile’s arm was wrapped around Buggy, that large hand digging into Mihawk’s shoulder, while Mihawk had grabbed Buggy’s floating hand, gripping it in his own lap before it could fly to you.

“There’s no way I could hide it. Someone at the party will say it…”

“Say what,” Buggy rasped after a long moment.

Your eyes poured over your men one more time before it was over.

“My name.”

Everyone paused, and you remembered Shanks was there. His face was a mask, unreadable, and you were grateful for another reason to ignore it.

“Are you saying that your name is a lie,” Crocodile asked in a dangerous purr.

“No. None of you ever asked what my last name was,” you pointed out, then laughed as you looked between them. “I guess pirates don’t really care about last names.”

The laughter died in your throat, tears streaming now in your moment of defeat.

“What’s your name,” Mihawk asked, his voice more gentle than you’d ever heard.

It’s over.

“Y/N Sylvad.”

…

“Like the wood company?”

You clamped your hands over your mouth, the shock of laughter that burst through you at Buggy’s confused face, his cute question, almost had you believing it would be alright.

But the other men in the room shifted. Crocodile pulled his arm away from the other two to rest his elbows on his knees, leaning toward you while he answered his clown.

“Not a company. A fucking empire. Sylvad’s Lumber and Shipping. Is that what you’re telling us right now?”

“Yes,” you breathed, already watching their eyes change. Already watching them forget who you were.

“Keep going,” he ordered, his words cold, ice building up around you.

“It’s not mine,” you begged them to believe you. “Dad died and…”

You couldn’t. You didn’t know where to start, or if it even mattered now.

“Arbo Sylvad was your dad,” Shanks murmured, sitting up a little straighter while he studied you.

“You’re Sylvad’s heiress.”

“No, I'm not,” you snapped at Mihawk, not caring when his golden eyes flared at you. “Uncle Cedrick got everything. Dad always said it would go to… I was fifteen when he…”

Crocodile’s silver eyes were like molten metal, and you choked on your grief as you watched him stand. He walked to that giant desk of his, and when he returned to drop your thick notebook in your lap, you flinched, bracing for pain.

“Unreliable,” he growled, tapping the notebook with his hook as he brought his eyes down to yours, his frightening face so close.

“Everything I said was true,” you pleaded, mind blanking out with fear while Mihawk came to touch Crocodile’s shoulder. He didn’t budge, and though your mouth went dry, you forced yourself to explain. “Those people are unreliable! They'd talk to people that could cause problems for the Guild. People with connections to the Marine’s.”

“Like your Uncle?”

“What do you mean, boss,” Buggy tried to redirect, his hand on the hook that was digging into the back of the chair, his body leaning against the larger man’s shoulder. “They just sell trees and stuff, right?”

“Every single Marine ship on the fucking water right now was built with Sylvad wood,” Crocodile fumed, Mihawk’s hand stroking along his arm as you shrank beneath those silver eyes. “Hells, almost every ship that sails out of Water 7 is built with that lumber.”

“I don’t get it,” Shanks complained from his chair, though you couldn’t see him past the angry man in front of you. “If you’re the heiress of Sylvad’s, why were you working? You were an accountant or something, right?”

“Investment banker,” Buggy bragged, and you almost smiled that he remembered. “My girl’s a fancy financial advisor.”

“Let’s give our girl some breathing room, Crocodile. We don’t know everything yet.”

You only heard Mihawk’s whispered words because Crocodile was a hair's breadth away. He brought his thumb to rub along one of your cheeks, and the back of his hook to smooth along the other.

“Tell daddy everything, alright, sweetheart?”

Your eyes fluttered shut until he pressed into your cheeks, slow tears falling from your eyes when you nodded for him.

“Yes, daddy.”

The warm kiss he pressed to your temple made you want to disappear. Nothing. Nothing ever again.

You were barely there as the words fell from your lips. Eyes unfocused, hanging loosely around the little table by Mihawk’s seat. You smiled to yourself when you realized it looked strange without a glass of wine on it.

“Dad died on a business trip. Freak storm. Left everything to Uncle Cedrick. Kat and I got our trust funds for school. Mom got nothing.”

“I think we’ll need more than that, little rabbit,” Mihawk cautioned as he glanced over at Crocodile's stern face.

“Can I have a drink fir–”

“No,” said the three men on the couch.

Holding your head in your hands for a bit, you tried to figure out how to say the least amount of painful words to get them to leave you alone.

“Uncle took us in. He was such a caring person, taking in his brother’s poor daughters, his lonely wife,” you spat, venom dripping from your lips. “I didn’t want to belong to him. My trust fund paid for the best education out there, but all my friends stopped… When they knew I had nothing to give them, they treated me like shit. I kept doing what I'm good at, and I got the fuck out. Went to go live that stupid, boring life.”

Growling with the frustration of spilling this pathetic, entitled trash, you stood to pace behind your chair, waving your notebook around as if you could make it burst into flames with your will alone.

“I am fucking amazing at my job, but most of these people just looove the thought of the poor little heiress helping them get richer. Most of them can’t wait to put me in their little collection. Add me to their fucking shelf. Just gotta ask Uncle how much his little niece– FUCK!”

The notebook went flying, skidding across the floor while you shoved the heavy chair over, yelling, raging, kicking that stupid green chair until your shoes fell off, your toes fucking hurt, until your clown stopped you.

“Baby, please,” he soothed, his upper body floating to keep your struggling form from reaching anything on the ground to hit. “It’s okay, star, I’m right here. Fuck those assholes, right? Who needs ‘em!”

Part of you felt guilty for not laughing at his sweet attempt, but the rest of you needed to fight or flee.

Flee from these powerful men that were already using you to make money.

“Put me down!”

Buggy’s whispered, “star,” hurt like hell. You held yourself still when he set you down gently, back in your spot as you faced the couch again, although your chair was kicked off to the side.

“Wanna know how high to set the ransom,” you challenged, your clenched fists shaking at your sides. You couldn’t think clearly enough to read their darkened eyes, even Buggy’s as he took his place between them. “Just so you know, Uncle doesn’t like me that much. He’d probably be happier if you killed me. Or you could buy me, that’d make him extra hap–”

Sand.

Sand flooded the space around you. It lifted you off the ground, and your breath caught as the coffee table got thrown to the side. You met those silver eyes just before you were in his arms, your legs stretched across the laps of the other men on the couch.

“What…” you wondered, mind in a daze.

“You thought I’d sell my sweet girl,” Crocodile hummed, kissing the top off your head.

“You told me you would,” you reminded, your body and mind feeling distant, separate from whatever this strange world had become. “How much am I worth? Just keep being valuable, useful? You were already gonna sell me or kill me before you knew what a goldmine I was.”

The icy anger that laced your words made every hand on you go still. Crocodile froze as he started to rock you, and your body couldn’t choose between guilt at hurting them, or anger and fear at what they would do.

“I think I’m drunk,” you whispered, wanting them to let you go, and wishing that they never would.

“No shit,” Buggy laughed, “I’m surprised you’re alive after that.”

His hands started massaging your legs on his lap, rubbing up and down nervously while you closed your eyes.

“Can I go lie down?”

“I’ll take you, star.”

Crocodile and Mihawk’s hands dragged along your skin as Buggy lifted you into the air, but neither stopped him from taking you. Neither stopped him from floating you away.

Neither called you pretty names as you left the room.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

“I’ve got you,” Buggy promised.

Getting her onto that giant bed felt like a race. Something was right behind him. Something would stop him.

Something would take her away again.

Finally there, he wrapped his arms around her, leaning against the headboard while her scotch scented breath warmed his chest.

“Your breath stinks, baby.”

Maybe it was a laugh, but that choked sound made his chest tight, like a huge hand was crushing his ribcage.

I can’t do anything. Fucking useless. Can’t help her.

“Buggy…”

“Shh, I’m right here, star,” he promised. The sound of his name on those quivering lips sent fire, rage, and guilt straight through him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He could never leave her. He could never leave her with them after this. Even if they…

Buggy kissed her temple, trying to be soothing while he waited for them to crash through the door.

Waited for them to take her from him.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

Not a sound.

Not a sound filled the air as the men in the lounge sat with the news that their little lover was the heiress of Sylvad’s.

Not a sound from the two men on the couch as her accusations weighed on them, as though she hadn’t left their laps with those angry, frightened tears in her eyes.

“That sure is something,” Shanks whistled softly. He stood to pick up Y/N’s chair, sitting across from them. “What are you gonna do with—“

“Find somewhere else to be,” Crocodile fumed, his body vibrating with the need to hurt something.

Shanks nodded, giving a crooked smile, before leaving them alone. Mihawk stared after his old friend, images of comfort he couldn’t provide burning behind his eyes.

He’s going to take them both.

Serves us right.

Crocodile’s angry huff pulled Mihawk out of those thoughts, watching the man stomp toward the bar. The coffee table his sand had moved laid in his path, until it splintered and scattered from the touch of his vicious foot in that lovely shoe.

The swordsman floated after him, still in a daze while the larger man imitated their girl, chugging a glass of scotch.

Mihawk stared, but didn’t speak, didn’t touch.

Crocodile set the glass down before he shattered another one.

“She lied—“

“Can you blame her,” Mihawk laughed coldly while the other man paced. Silver eyes shot like daggers, but Mihawk couldn’t seem to care about anything at the moment. “She told the truth, just not all—“

“She didn’t trust me.”

He sat again, staring at the floor after those stupid words had left him.

“I don’t…” Mihawk started, pushing himself to move, pushing himself to try. He sat down, and touched a hand to Crocodile’s shoulder, leaving it there after his scarred lover flinched. “We haven’t given her much reason to, have we?”

Not a sound after that.

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Y/N! You can’t just leave,” Kat reasoned, pulling the clothes out of your hands before you could stuff them into your suitcase. “What about mom? What about the company?”

“Mom made her choices,” you growled, pulling the clothes back from your sister’s shaky hands. “And I don’t care about the fucking company. It’s not mine.”

“Not if—“

“It’s not mine. I’m sick of this fucking life. I’m getting out.”

“... What about me?”

That stopped you. But only for a moment.

“I’m sure he’d let you come if—“

“Are you fucking kidding me right now,” she shouted, pushing you toward your messy suitcases. “He’s a pirate! If he doesn’t hurt you before, what do you think he’ll do when he finds out who you are?”

“I don’t care,” you fumed as you stared your little sister down. “I'm bored of this stupid life.”

Kat’s mouth hung open, the hurt and pain in her eyes making you want to take it all back, to beg for forgiveness.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t waste this chance to be free.

“You really have a death wish, you know that? That clown is going to get you killed,” Kat breathed, her voice growing colder as she turned to leave. She didn’t look back when she said her goodbye, just waved her hand over her shoulder. “I’ll look out for the ransom note.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Sleep?

Sleep.

Burning sleep, and stormy seas.

Dad’s voice calling for you.

You could never find him before the ship went under, before all that Sylvad wood splintered beneath the raging waves.

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

“Buzz off, idiot,” Buggy ordered in a harsh whisper, Shanks’ smiling face peeking through the cracked door. Buggy had left his body on the bed to hold Y/N as she whimpered, nightmares ruining her scotch and stress induced nap.

His head floated by the door, frowning at his old friend.

“It’ll just be a second, Bugs, I swear.”

Shanks’ smile stretched even wider when Buggy agreed, floating his head out into the corridor.

“This better be good, asshat.”

Shanks felt it. This was it. He could have them both.

He needed them both.

“Let’s take her with us, Bugs.”

Buggy’s look of shock was exaggerated by those red lips of his, and Shanks had to hold himself back from kissing them.

“But she… but it’s dangerous…”

Buggy wasn’t sure he’d actually heard those words, or if he’d fallen asleep, dreaming beside his star. Too many emotions rushed through him, but all he could think about was her.

“Would you rather leave her here with them,” Shanks rasped, his eyes doing that heavy thing they do, although there wasn’t much of Buggy’s body to drag them down. “We can protect her. You and me, Bugs.”

The clown had to fight his body to stay still as he held her in the other room. The need to move, to fidget, to pace, made him dizzy.

“What if she doesn’t wanna go,” Buggy wondered. Images of Y/N smiling, laughing, screaming, flew through his mind, each one making him doubt that he could ever make her as happy as she’d seemed once things had started to settle here.

“I already asked her. I know she’ll say yes. She wants you to be happy, Bugs. Just like I do,” Shanks confessed, brushing a bit of blue hair out of Buggy’s face. He rubbed his thumb across those red, parted lips.

So close to everything.

“When did—“

“Buggy?”

Shanks watched his clown fly away from him, hopeful that it’d be the last time.

Buggy flew away from his old friend, every confusing thought going blank besides the need to comfort that soft, scared voice.

“Right here, got you, baby.”

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

“Buggy,” you whimpered as new tears fell.

“Shh, you’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

Painted lips covered your face, kissing your tears away until you shivered, his soothing hum blocking out everything else.

His touch kept it all at bay.

Every split second of memory was grief, so you curled against him, running your hand along his side. Your body writhed, whining for him as he stroked your hair and back, then pulled away.

“Hey, star, it’s o—“

“Please, touch me, Buggy,” you begged as you reached for him. “I need you so much, I need you…”

Pathetic grief poured back in at the memory of what you’d witnessed last night, but you couldn’t fight your need for him.

“Please, touch me.”

“Just tell me if it’s alright, okay, star," he breathed after pausing to study your face, tracing his fingers along your cheeks.

“Please,” you gasped, his lips on your neck were saving your life. Saving you from your mind.

A touch against Mihawk’s tender bite mark brought the world back, but then Buggy was tearing you both out of your clothes, kissing down your arms, your chest, your stomach. Kissing every inch of your skin until you were crying with need instead of pain.

Begging, begging for more.

“Don’t worry, I’m here. I’ll take care of you, star.”

“Bug—“

Breathy, desperate moans left your throat as his fingers plunged deep inside you, and he swallowed the rest of your sounds in a wild kiss. His tongue was eating, tasting, and you almost laughed into his mouth at the memory of scotch, until his free hand found your clit.

The fingers inside you were perfect, knowing exactly what you needed. Finding that spot, giving you steady touches that built in pressure and speed until you were clenching around his fingers, body shaking with pleasure and gratitude.

“So beautiful,” Buggy praised, his voice full of a quiet awe as he smiled down at you. “You okay, baby?”

“Fuck me, Buggy,” you pleaded as your weak arms failed to pull him closer. “I need you inside me. Need to feel you.”

His eyes were wide, concerned, but he smiled when he kissed you.

Smiled when he gave you everything you needed.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

How?

How can she be real?

How can she want me this much?

Want me after everything…

Buggy pushed those thoughts aside as he smoothed his ungloved hands down her body.

Hands that he felt safe letting her touch. Just like his bare face that he could let her see.

He let out his own soft, needy noise as he watched her writhe and squirm, begging for him to touch her.

“Fuck,” he hissed, just the touch of her perfect, dripping pussy against his sensitive tip was too much. Too much as he lined himself up.

“Look at me, Buggy,” Y/N cried out, her watery eyes swallowing him whole, just as he sank his cock deeper and deeper. He couldn’t hold in his moans at the pure fucking bliss that she held inside her, that she let him feel.

“Look at me, please.”

Buggy kept his eyes on hers, her request setting off alarm bells in his mind that he had to shut down, throw out.

She wants to look at me like this. She wants to see my face. There’s only one per—

“Buggy! I’m close, please,” she panicked, reaching up into his hair, pulling gently as her breathing went ragged. “Need to feel you, want you so bad.”

“I want you too, star, I’m right— oh gods, baby. Fuck, you feel soo good…”

Y/N screamed his name.

His name.

Over and over while he shoved his cock as far as he could go, claiming that sweet, warm pleasure she let him take.

Y/N pulled him in, her body made to take his come, made to milk him, to drain him, to let him fuck it back into her while she babbled, while her eyes crossed, while that cute little tongue hung out of her perfect lips.

All for him.

Still sunk deep inside her, Buggy soothed and calmed her frantic noises, kissing her temple.

“I love you so much. My shining star.”

What a feeling to say those words. What a feeling to mean them. To have someone to say them to.

“I love you, Buggy. I love you so much.”

What a feeling.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: I've been so nervous to add anything new to this world. I hope you don't mind some back story. And some Buggy time 😭😭😭

Part 20

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

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prentisssgf · 16 days

Text

| fix this

| criminal minds

| emily prentiss x reader

| angst

| 3510 words

You sighed to yourself as you were about to leave work before your girlfriend Emily again, ever since she became the unit chief she would stay behind all these late hours and it was getting ridiculous, you and the team would leave around 5pm every night and Emily wouldn't even leave the office until 9pm.

You got all your stuff and was just about to head out when you looked up to see Emily on the phone, you walked up to her office to see her, once you knew she was free and you knocked lightly on the door "Hello to my favourite unit chief" you humoured.

"What can I do you for, darling?" Emily's smile lit up as soon as she saw you, you closed the door and made her way over to your desk

"I need a small tiny favour" you gestured your thumb and index finger to indicate the 'small'

Emily laughed as she placed her glasses on the pieces of paper in front of her "and what might that be?" she smirked.

"What I want is" you paused as you made your way over to her "for my girlfriend" you paused again as you made the way around her, standing directly behind her, running you hands down her shoulders "to come home on time, please" you kissed her cheek and then her shoulder, you then placed your chin on the same shoulder to look at the work she was doing.

"I'm almost done, I promise" Emily smiled gently as she kissed your temple "but..." she paused "you can stay here and wait for me, you can sit on my desk if you like" she gestured to the wooden desk in front of her as a compromise.

"Oh?" you smirked.

"Mhmm" she drawled as she gave you a closed mouth smile.

You helped yourself up on her desk as you shuffled backwards, you listened intently as Emily was talking you through what she was doing, she was working on something a profile for the next big case.

"You're so smart, you know" you said with a tease but you meant every word, you smiled as you traced some of the letters with your fingers.

"How did I get so lucky?" Emily grinned as she looked up at you.

You were both pulled out of a trance by a knock at the door, followed by someone letting themselves in "I'm looking for a Lauren Anderson?" you and Emily looked at each other and then back at the man

"You found her" you smiled as you hopped off Emily's desk to stand behind her, sticking your hand to shake and then to retrieve a brown papered package in his hands.

"Great" he started walking over to her "it was requested that this would be hand delivered" he nodded.

"Oh.. um" you stuttered, knowing that this definitely wasn't a good thing "Um yeah-"

"Thank you" Emily spoke quickly to usher him out as soon as possible.

You and Emily looked at each other before you slowly leaned over to open the package, you slid you hand in to find around 30 pictures of you and Emily over the past 2 years, from events such as her mother's gala she dragged you to, the team's birthdays, ice cream dates, museum dates, you quickly shuffled through the photos to see private pictures of you and Emily shown through your bedroom window, some of you sleeping, the last picture of you two in the pile were you and Emily kissing as soon as you got out of the car this morning.

The only thing was in every single picture Emily Prentiss' face was carved out.

Sobs escaped louder from your body than you would've liked to admit, you placed a hand over your mouth to attempt to cover it but yet nothing was working, you started shaking, your anxiety spiked through the roof, Emily stood up to grab your hands and talk you through this panic attack, Emily looked down to see the pictures and cursed lightly under breath, shielding you with a hug as she held you tightly, running her hands through your hair as you sobbed into her chest.

You were about to call everyone into the round table and explained the severity of the situation but she stopped you "No, Ren, it's Friday and everyone just wants to go home" she sighed "we can just call it in tomorrow"

"I can't let you do that Emily, someone is out to get you" you whispered as you cupped her cheek "someone is watching our every move, Emily I love you but you need to put yourself first for once" you sighed "please" you begged "can you do that?" you cried as you leaned your forehead against hers.

"I can do that" she whispered back "I can do that Lauren"

"Okay" you sighed "We have to stay together until this is over... at least in the same room.." Emily nodded in agreement "I can't do it Emily, I can't lose you" you sobbed.

Luckily for you, everyone was still in the bullpen "Guys, I'm sorry to keep you all but you have to come and check this out" you quietly begged, silently hoping and praying they would pick up on your eagerness.

JJ, Aaron, Rossi, Tara, Penelope, Spencer, Morgan, you and Emily, stood around the BAU's round table, photos scattered around the table, you stood next to Emily, who stood there without saying a word, biting her nails as everyone studied the pictures.

Nobody said anything for a while after you explained the situation, they all knew that you were in a relationship with Emily, you didn't even try to hide it, as soon as Strauss found out and made you fill in the paperwork everything was fine and you wouldn't be lying if you said everyone loved you two as a couple, it was a comfortable and safe and loving environment, Emily felt more relaxed and therefore led a stress free team.

"Fix this" were the only words that could come out of Emily's mouth right now.

"We're doing the best we can Prentiss" Derek bit back, you looked at Derek with a slight smile, you then looked up at Emily, who had a raised eyebrow and a look that could kill.

"Right now" Emily barked, catching everyone off guard.

"Take a walk, Emily" Rossi sighed.

"Gladly" Emily pulled her hand out of yours quickly as she got her purse, you wanted to chase after her, but you respected her boundaries and you both knew she'd be back.

You sighed heavily, you felt the tears sting, you looked up, hands on your hips, doing everything you can not to cry in front of your team, you just stared at everyone, your team, looking at your life, your private life, your memories and your events, it was all very surreal but there it was, all laid out and put on a display for your coworkers to see.

"Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt her?" your voice came out in a pathetic tone, almost like you didn't want to believe anyone would want to harm her, your Emily.

Eveyone shook their heads, but they knew, they all knew, they just didn't want you to worry at their expense "I'm gonna go and check on Emily, text me if you figure out anything, please" your hands came together in a prayer as you walked out of the room backwards.

"Emily" you sighed as you swung the bathroom door open to find her standing there, looking in the mirror "I thought I told you to stay together" your lip quivered.

"I'm sorry" Emily kept repeating until you walked up to her and hugged her to ground her "I'm just so scared" Emily sobbed.

"Hey, it's okay to be..." you cupped your cheek in her hand "I promise it's okay to be scared... I am too" you chuckled nervously.

"But I shouldn't be Ren, I'm the unit chief of the FBI, i've been a trained spy, and an agent in the CIA and interpol" Emily swallowed hard, trying to push her feelings down.

"Baby, you're a person, you're a real person with feelings and it's okay to have them" you said, mentally cursing Elizabeth Prentiss for raising Emily the way she did.

"What you're feeling right now, is normal, you are not broken, nor should you be feeling any other way" you sighed as you hugged Emily's waist.

"It's kinda weird that they're looking at pictures of us sleeping" Emily chuckled hoping to bring some light to this situation.

"Right?" you smiled genuinely for the first time since that man handed you the photos.

"Are you ready to go back out yet?" you asked, giving her the option to leave right away or to stay a while if need be.

"I just.." she placed her forehead on yours "I just wanna stay here for a bit if that's okay" she did her best to bring her lips into a smile.

"More than okay" you returned.

A few minutes later you, you both were ready to go out of the bathroom, you kissed her lips before taking her hand, you got to the conference room and yet you still never let go, now sitting around the table, you and Emily took the only two empty seats next to each other, both of your hands never letting go.

You were aware that people were talking around you, but you weren't conscious of what the actual words coming out of their mouths were, all their words, unintelligible, you just kept thinking about this morning.

"Get up buttercup" Emily playfully teased you as she hit you with a pillow to wake you up, toothbrush in her mouth as she dragged you up by pulling your hands up together.

"Ugghhh, no five more minutes" you groaned.

"If you're late, your boss won't like that" Emily teased, making her way to the bathroom, your hands still intertwined, Emily wasn't looking at you, instead dragging you to the bathroom.

"Yeah well it's a good thing that my boss just happens to find me extremely attractive and is in love with me then isn't it" you raised an eyebrow trying to butter her up.

"You are baby, but you're not getting out of it that fast" Emily smiled into the mirror, as you leaned over to look at both of you in the mirror, your hands still hugging the back of her waist.

"Damn it" you laughed "worth a shot" you dramatically sighed.

Emily spat the remaining toothpaste out of her mouth and set her toothbrush, you squealed as she threw you over her shoulder and walked around for a while "Worth a shot, worth a shot" she chatised in a playful tone, she laid you down on the bed and you pulled her down to kiss her, 10 minutes later, she pulled back and quietly said "okay now we're actually going to be very late" she kissed your nose and then your forehead.

"What can I say" you shrugged "I'm just irresistible" you laughed.

"Incorrigible more like" Emily laughed too as she stood up right.

"Hey" you laughed as you swung the pillow next to you swiftly to her hip.

"Lauren?" JJ sighed, her hand gently placed on your knee "do you need some time alone?" her mothering aura smothered you and you shot up to her and hugged her tightly "I promise you that we will get to the bottom of this, Ren" she sighed.

"You promise?" Emily's voice behind you startled you.

"Yes" JJ smiled "and I don't make those lightly"

"Okay" you smiled, looking at that candid photo of you over Emily's shoulder this morning one more time "Okay" you repeated.

You sighed as you sat down next to Emily, your head on her shoulder as you played with her fingers, something you did when you were nervous, sitting there in a huge empty room with your photos across the BAU's table where they usually placed photos of victims made you feel sick, neither of you sure on what to do next.

"Em?" your voice soft, barely above a whisper "what do we do? we can't go home right? where can we go?" you looked up at her, your head still on her shoulder.

"I don't know, Ren" she sighed truthfully "Um..." Emily trailed off, usually Emily wasn't one for not having an answer but this stumped her, both of you felt stuck, alone, and scared.

"Are we going to be okay?" you asked, maybe not searching for an answer right away.

"We always come out okay in every situation together and I think this will be the same" she kissed your head.

You sat there for a while when you received a text from a number that wasn't in your contacts, you and Emily read the message at the same time;

"Hope you liked the photos, Lauren ;)"

Emily's phone got a message a few seconds later

"If you know what's good for you, you'll leave us alone"

Followed by a;

"Maybe it's best you don't go home to Riverside, I hear London is a lovely place to live. Paris too"

"Em" you breathed out, absentmindedly clutching Emily's waist tighter.

"Stalker.. this is... someone knows about me... and my past.." Emily's breathing became shallow, you knew the signs of a panic attack and you knew them well.

"Come on" you prompted "look me baby, in and out" you repeated until she calmed right down.

Your phone in your back pocket was vibrating but all you could and would concentrate on was Emily, she was your number one priority right now, you pressed down on her knees and kissed her forehead as you got up and you checked your messages, from the same number

"Do NOT call her baby"

You stared at the messages, dumbfounded, almost frozen in place, someone was watching you right now, and they were never enough to hear you.

You showed Emily the messages and she held you close

Soon enough she got a message

"I know where you live, Emily Prentiss. Remember that"

"What?.." Emily trailed off.

"Okay okay, it's okay, it's going to be okay" tears running down both of your faces, you held her tight, not letting her go.

"What happened?" JJ panicked as she came up shocked, Penelope followed closely.

"Oh my lovely" Penelope saw Emily and she hugged her, you squeezed Emily's hand and got up to talk to JJ whilst she was with Penelope.

"Em? can I have your phone to show the messages?" you smiled gently.

"Yeah.. yeah" Emily breathed out as she handed you the phone.

Penelope stood up and read the messages at the same time, both of them stood there, mouths wide open at what you both are going through.

"Can't you track the number or something?" your voice shook.

"I'll try my best pumpkin" Penelope brought you in for a hug and then disappeared in to her office with both of your phones.

"Is there anyone who would want to hurt either of you? an ex maybe?" JJ spoke.

Emily didn't answer, she was exhausted, her body slumped over in the chair, her head between her hands.

"No? no there's not" you replied walking over to Emily, you sat down next to her and hugged her tightly.

"Olivia Scott" Emily's head shot up, with a moment of realisation.

"Who-" JJ started.

"I used to date her for about a year, before I joined the academy, it didn't end well, Olivia deciding to end it, I guess because I had a job in the FBI and she didn't?" you said unsure of if the words out of your mouth were true.

"What does she look like?" JJ asked softly.

"Um.. she was tall about 5'8, brown haired, really really long hair, down to her back and she had glasses but she never wore them, and she had freckles everywhere"

"That helps so much, thank you Lauren" JJ squeezed your hand and left the room, leaving you and Emily in the same room once again.

"How do you know about Olivia?" you swiped a hair behind her ears.

"I read your file when you first joined the team, I had the biggest crush on you and I couldn't stop thinking about you, your laugh, the way you smiled when Spencer was telling you something that he was interested, the way you remembered everyone's coffee order without anyone even asking, the way you're so good with Henry and Jack, the way you love, I love the way you love, Lauren" Emily cried "So when I found out about Olivia, my heart was broken for you, and also scared" Emily admitted "I was really scared" Emily whispered.

"You mean all that?" you replied in the same tone.

Emily's smile didn't falter once "yeah, yeah I do"

"I love you" you whispered.

"More than you know"

You heard the faint sound of heels running closer towards you when Penelope burst through the doors "I've got her, and her address, JJ, Hotch, and Derek are going over there now and they're bringing her here"

Emily held your hand as you both walked to the interrogation room, JJ and Hotch were interviewing her, you and Emily both behind the glass.

"I'm not going to talk unless she comes in" Olivia smirked.

You were about to go in when Emily grabbed your hand "No" she gritted her teeth, holding back tears.

"I'll be okay Emily, I'm going in there with JJ and Hotch, she won't do anything to me I promise, and as soon as something feels off I'll leave" you cupped her cheek and tucked her hair behind her ears, she nodded and kissed your forehead.

"Lauren" Olivia huffed out a greatful sigh "Can you believe this? got me locked up in here" she scoffed.

You shut the door behind you and stood by the mirror, not daring to move any closer.

"You said you weren't going to talk unless I was here" you said point blankly "so talk" you demanded.

"Where's this attitude coming from, darling?" she smirked once more.

"I'm not your darling" you scoffed.

"Ren-"

"Anderson. Agent Anderson" you said firmly.

"Right, well Anderson do you want to explain what I'm doing in an interrogation room at 9pm on a Friday night" she looked up and you and jolted her hands forward to signify she was in cuffs.

"Okay, well let's start with the fact that, you've been stalking me for 2 years and the fact that you've threatened two FBI agents" you started.

"I did it because I still love you" she confessed "and I know that you still love me too"

You scoffed once more "I love Emily, not you" you stated matter of factly waking up to the table.

"That's a lie" she smirked.

"Look at these pictures, Olivia" you gestured to the 30 pictures of you and Emily on the table "I am irrevocably in love with her and you talking a couple of pictures of us and threatening Emily will not change that" you slammed your palms into the wooden desk "I don't love you, I don't even like you, do you understand?" you nodded in assurance.

"I-" Olivia stuttered.

"I said do you understand?" you spoke loudly.

"Yes" she shook her head in annoyance "Yeah I got it"

"Great" you patted the table and left the room.

"Are you okay?" Emily asked softly.

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay" you said reaching your arms out to hug her straight away.

She held you tightly, you watched Hotch and JJ arrest her as she walked past you, Emily's arm protectively around your waist.

"Can we go home now?" you turned around and looked at her, silently begging.

Emily checked the time which was around 11:45pm "Yeah, let's go" she kissed your forehead and grabbed your hand.

☆

You knelt on the bed waiting for Emily as she finished brushing her teeth, you were just talking about something random, you were looking at her when she felt you staring.

"What are you looking at?" she teased, a smirk appearing on her face.

"Nothing, I just love you" you smiled.

"So I've heard" the smirk still apparent as she walked closer to you "irrevocably" she drawled.

A grin hit your face "just come here" you pulled her down on the bed and kissed her everywhere on her face, your last once being on her lip.

You shuffled down on your side to hug her waist, Emily was laying on her back looking up at the ceiling.

"What are you thinking about?" you sat yourself up balancing on your elbow.

"Today" she sighed.

"Emily, she's a psychopath" you smiled.

"I just.." Emily drawled.

"Okay Em, whatever you're thinking right now, stop, I'm not in love with her, I didn't even think about her until you said her name today, I chose you Emily."

You stopped and held cupped her cheeks "I chose you in every universe."

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #paget brewster #criminal minds x you #emily x reader #emily x you

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ruewrote · 1 year

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𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠.

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of a breakdown GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: give me love by ed sheeran WORD COUNT: 891

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you'd often stay in on the weekends, not like your friends who either drank or got high. it wasn't particularly your scene.

it was the end of exams week and everyone was celebrating for not having to put in any more sleepless nights of studying, well most did. others knocked back drinks trying to forget how badly they think they did.

it didn't take long for you to find a cheesy rom-com, a large platter of snacks balanced on top of your legs, halfway through the movie picking up your phone and mindlessly scrolling through instagram.

a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you scrolled through a video of jj maybank doing a handstand whilst drinking from a keg, everyone cheering and laughing after he succeeded. he was walking over to the camera and that's when your phone started to ring.

rafe.

not knowing why but a lump formed in your throat making it hard for you to swallow, your stomach churned as you pressed the phone against your ear.

"i-i need you. please..." his voice was so quiet, so broken.

that was it all took for you to be up out of bed and out of the door. his soft cries and deep sniffles worried you more as you ran to his house.

it felt like you could hear every beat of your heart, nothing in that moment mattered but him.

barging into the cameron residence which seemed to be empty for the most part.

calling out his name, as you made a beeline straight for his bedroom.

the large pieces of shattered glass on the floor didn't go unnoticed, some family photos were either on the floor or lopsided too.

the door to his room ajar, letting out a deep breath as your fingertips grazed the solid surface before fully pushing it open.

you've never seen him look so small before.

his chin rested on his knees, his arm wrapped around his legs bringing them closer to his chest as his shoulders shook. his hair covering most of his face.

slowly kneeling beside him, shuffling closer to his shivering body.

he lifted his head up, making eye contact with you.

"oh rafe..." your voice was gentle as you reached out to cup his cheek, thumb brushing away the tears that fell.

the skin of his nose a rosy pink, his eyelids puffy from crying, but his eyes... carried something so much more.

the grief. the sorrow. the confusion.

tears flow down his cheeks freely as he nuzzled against your palm, having felt it had been long enough, you pulled him into your arms and held him as he cried into your neck.

"im so sorry for c-crying, ill be fine."

you felt your heart break a tiny bit more and just embraced him tighter against you.

"you never need to apologize to me. ever. and certainly not for crying." tears of your own stung in your eyes as your hand stroked small circles on his back.

it had been hours since you found rafe, he was now safely tucked into bed fast asleep and you were bent over cleaning up the larger pieces of glass, then sweeping the smaller ones into a pan.

readjusting the frames of the rest so they were straightened.

there were a couple of times when things were like this. when rafe would randomly show up outside your bedroom window or he'd call you from toppers house phone needing you.

it was more frequent over the last couple of years. you didn't mind it. the people around you did since you always dropped anything and everything for him, but he'd done the same for you in similar circumstances.

whether it had been an argument with your parents or your friends, even if it was just protecting you from some random creep. he was there.

but you do have to admit this had been one of the worst conditions that you had found him in and it worried you to no end.

after finishing cleaning up most, if not all of the mess you went down and got yourself a glass of water, sliding open the door to the back porch.

a light breeze brushed against your skin as you leaned against the concrete railing, watching as the waves of the sea washed over one another.

continuing to slowly sip at your drink as you closed your eyes and took all of it in, trying to find a peaceful state of mind before going back in the house to sleep.

that was until you felt a large hand delicately trace over your shoulder, tensing up you opened your eyes spinning around to whoever it was. soon relaxing when you were met with the familiar sleepy blue eyes of none other than rafe.

a soft smile stretched across his lips as you rested your head against his shoulder, letting out a sigh of relief. leaving a playful tap on his bicep for scaring you.

"what are you doing up?" you questioned as you looked up at him.

"noticed you were gone and got worried..." he spoke quietly, sheepishly smiling as he left a peck on the top of your hair, wrapping his arms around you.

"awh, did ya miss me?" a playful laugh left you as you continued to tease him until he had enough of your games and threw you over his shoulder, taking you back to bed.

you were glad that you had him and he was glad that he had you.

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lemoncherrypop · 24 days

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To Build a Home

seventeen x harry potter au

deatheater!seungcheol x gryffindorprincess!reader summary: The war has finally come and your entire world falls into ruin. After a surprise attack from the Death Eaters, you barely escape with your life and find refuge in a faraway safe house. Everything would have been fine, all things considered, except for the fact that you had fallen right into the snake’s pit. notes: hello :'))) i am back from the dead. i can not apologize enough for the three year hiatus. i went through some family stuff, some mental breakdowns, and also just life in general made me not want to write anymore. but all the messages and comments I've gotten throughout the years have been so heart warming and touching. your words of support have genuinely made me want to get back into this again, so thank you thank you thank you. all your likes, comments and shares really kept me going, sometimes I felt like I was writing into the void, but knowing that others read and enjoyed my story was a very validating and heartwarming feeling. again, I am SOOO sorry for the extremely late update, but if you are still around, I hope you will enjoy this next chapter! i love you all <3 P.S if you prefer AO3 viewing, it will be linked in my Series Masterlist :) word count: 4.3k

Series Masterlist

One l Two l Three l Four l Five l coming soon...

Chapter Five

The bed is warm when you wake up, but you can not move.

“If you try to get up, I will incarcerous your ass.”

The air smells bitter and burnt, and it makes you want to gag at how strong it weighs in the air. Blinking past the candlelights, you find Jean sitting in a chair next to your bed.

Groaning, you try and curl your fingers, but you find yourself unable to. Not even needing to look down, you could feel the thick bandages wrapped around your whole chest and the entire length of your left arm.

“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t,” you grumble, voice feeling raw and dry in your throat. “What the fuck did you do to me?”

“What did I do to you?”

“I can’t fucking move!”

“I bloody well put you back together in one piece!” Jean snapped and you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen so much anger in your friend’s eyes. “You nearly got yourself killed, and you’re complaining about a couple of bandages?!”

“A couple is enough to render me completely useless?!”

“You’re not useless.” Jean rolls her eyes. “You’re just forced into recuperation.”

“Well, it’d be fucking nice if I could at least scratch my nose.” You scrunch your nose unpleasantly.

“Your right arm still works, you know.”

“Oh.” You blink. “Right.”

Jean sighs deeply and goes back to focusing on something on your night table. Feeling awkward, you stretch out your right arm the best you can and reach up to scratch the itch on the bridge of your nose.

“What’s that?” You point at the stack of small withered leather pouches and tiny vials of potions.

She lets out a grunt of frustration. “It’s your medicine. You lost so much blood, I thought you turned into a bloody ghost.”

“Well, blame that on—”

“It’s both of your faults,” Jean cuts you off with a sharp glare. “Don’t go blaming Seungcheol when you put him in an equally bad position.”

You can’t help but smirk at the news. “He strapped down onto his bed just like me?”

Glass bottles click and clatter as Jean slams down your medicine. “Wake up! This was all meant for training, not to cut each other’s throats and bleed each other dry.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn away to avoid her glare. “Did you give him the same lecture?”

“I’m serious, can’t you just listen to me?”

“It’d be nice to not, but I don’t think I have a choice.”

She scoffs. “We’re not at school anymore. There’s no more petty house rivalry, no house points to fight over, or exams to stress over. We’re on the same side of the war, we can’t keep fighting with the boys.”

“Don’t be a fool.” You snap back at her with furrowed brows. “You want me to trust these boys? Thought you were supposed to be the smart one—”

A click— the door opens and Wonwoo walks in as if he were coming in like routine.

“Ah,” he says in quiet surprise. “You’re up?”

A brow quirks. “What are you doing in my room?”

Jean clicks her tongue and goes back to refilling your medication.

He holds up an amber glass bottle. “To heal you back into a functioning human.”

You place your good arm under the back of your head and prop yourself up a little to get a better view of your two housemates.

“Jean’s already got my medicine here.” You nod over to the glass vials on your night table.

“Yes, but this one—” Wonwoo holds it closer to your face, the clear glass has no label but contains a sticky, thick liquid. “—is for those cuts that Seungcheol gave you.”

“Of course,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “Even the cuts he gave me aren’t ordinary. I need a special potion just for that?”

Wonwoo takes a seat at the end of your bed. “You lost a lot of blood.”

“A lot.” Jean glowers.

“Stop worrying,” you chide. “I feel fine!” You cough, embarrassingly, your throat still raw and dry.

“Fine my fucking arse,” Jean curses, and you know she’s truly mad because when was the last time your friend has ever cursed? “Fine isn’t being completely incapacitated for days. I had no idea when you would even wake up.”

“Wait a sec—” Your forehead wrinkles as your face contorts into confusion. “How long have I been out?”

“Only three days,” Wonwoo sighs, and uncorks the bottle in his hand. “He’s just as immobile as you, thought you’d be interested to know.”

“That is good to know.” You can’t help the grin spreading on your face. Jean’s scowl only deepens.

A cup is conjured out of thin air, and Wonwoo pours some of the amber liquid into it. “This is going to be hard to swallow, but drink the whole thing, okay?” He hands you the cup.

It looks even darker in the cup and moves like molasses. “And what is this supposed to help with? All the blood that I lost?”

“It’s to make sure your wounds heal completely,” Jeans explains. “Unfortunately… you won’t be able to get rid of the scars, but at least they’ll be completely closed.”

“That spell he used on you…” Wonwoo says quietly, his face looking serious as he tries to word it properly in his head before saying it out loud. “It’s— it’s not a spell to take lightly. Obviously, it would have been best to use the counterspell right after you got hit, but you continued fighting—”

“Absolute blockheads, the both of you!”

“— and the lacerations only went deeper and deeper as they spread. It’ll take a few days of rest before you’re fully healed, but just hold your nose when you take the potion because it—”

“Tastes like fucking shit!” You gag.

“— tastes pretty awful…”

Mandatory bed rest for the rest of the week.

Those were the orders from apparently everyone else in the house. Sneaking out was not an option because there was a spell that made the entire house ring when you tried to sneak out. It was equally both embarrassing and frustrating, seeing as how you couldn’t even take a piss without having Jean come over to help you over to the bathroom.

The only good thing about being imprisoned inside your own room was Wonwoo’s cup of tea.

He brought you a cup of tea every morning. Earl grey. Always piping hot, and with just enough cream and sugar to make anyone else’s tongue curl from the sweetness.

It was the perfect cup of tea.

The damn snake was slowly creeping his way up your ladder that goes from enemies to acquaintances to just barely being friends. He was still low on the ladder though, just marginally above the other snakes.

But the cup of tea did nothing to make you feel any better. Any less useless.

The wounds have healed completely when you finished up the rest of the amber liquid, and the bandages were finally all released with permission from Wonwoo and Jean, but no one allowed you back into another round of dueling. Not yet at least. They all said it's because you needed more time to get better, but you knew it was because they all thought you weren’t mentally stable enough to go back.

“You almost died!” You remember wincing in pain when Jean readjusted your bandages.

No matter how many times you insisted that you were feeling better and thinking more clearly, she stayed firm in her decision.

“Not. Yet.”

You can only hope that the same was happening to Seungcheol.

Minghao sips on his glass and the candlelight illuminates the grimace on his face. “This is not what I meant when I said they wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off each other.”

“I was hoping they’d just fuck each other’s brains out,” Mingyu shrugs. “But I guess this is another way of them taking their anger out on each other.”

“How could you joke like that when they both nearly died?” Trinh scowls, smacking the back of his head for the comment.

“Hey!” Mingyu rubs his head with a groan. “You think I wanted that to happen? I nearly shit myself when I saw the amount of blood in here!” He shudders dramatically. “But they’re both healed now, yeah?”

“Doesn’t make the situation any better.” Trinh tiredly rubs her eyes. “We can never pair them up again for training. I refuse to clean up that much blood again.”

“The reality is,” Minghao sighs, reaching over to pet her hair. “They fucking hate each other. I’m sure they’ll find another excuse to get into another bloody fight.”

“As much as I hated the fight as well, I can’t say that I’m not surprised.” Mingyu sighs. “This was a fight years in the making. We put those two together without any supervision of the professors, and what did we expect? Sunshine and chocolate frogs?”

“Their fighting in Hogwarts was child’s play compared to this,” Trinh groans, looking more tired by the second.

She shifts in her chair just enough for her to lean her head on Minghao’s shoulder, and he suddenly laughs. “Remember that time he spiked her ale with some babbling beverage right before potions class?”

A light chuckle comes from Mingyu. “Or that time she used locomotor mortis right before he leaned in for his first kiss with that Gryffindor girl and he fell right into her breasts?”

Minghao throws his head back with a loud snort. “Then there was that brilliant prank where he charmed her quill to write everything backwards during our O.W.L.S!”

“See? I’m telling you, they just need to fuck.” Mingyu lays his finger on the table to make his point. “They’ve already beat each other bloody.”

Minghao’s laughter slowly fades until his smile is no more, and reaches for his glass again. “Yeah, but he’s not the same boy as before.” He takes a final swig and downs the whole drink. “He’s changed.”

“We’ve all changed.”

Their heads all snap up to see Wonwoo standing at the end of their table. Minghao grimaces, and all traces of laughter have disappeared from his face. Looking forlornly into his half-empty glass, Mingyu stays silent as well.

“Done drinking for tonight?” He asks the trio, looking just as solemn as his crew of snakes.

Trinh throws her head back to finish hers and slams it back on the table. “Now I am.”

Mingyu holds up an empty glass for Wonwoo in offerance. “How are they doing? Still, being stubborn?

Wonwoo declines with a shake of his head and sits down to join them. “I don’t know what I expected from either of them,” he sighs. “She’s still fighting tooth and nail to get out of the room, and Seungcheol’s… well, you know how he gets when he’s moody.”

“Got the temper of a five-year-old.” Trinh shakes her head.

“But thankfully the medications are working well,” Wonwoo continues. “Wounds are pretty much all healed. I still think they need more time to mentally recover from their fight.”

“I’ve got high hopes for the Princess, but Seungcheol? Like that stubborn dickhead has any space in his thick skull to even comprehend how to do that.”

“Mingyu.” Wonwoo places a firm grip on his shoulder. “We’ve got to do something. He can’t keep going on like this, he’s only going to get worse.”

“Well, what do you suggest then?” Mingyu snaps. “Like he’ll listen to any of us.

Minghao’s expression is grim. “I’m afraid the only way he’ll get any better is if he is dead, my friend.”

Days and weeks flew by in the cottage and the house was slowly coming into action once again. Mingyu and Jean were still flirting around in every room, Trinh could be found giggling away with Minghao whilst pretending to not care about anyone else.

And yet, you haven’t exchanged a single word with Seungcheol. It was harder than you expected, pretending like someone doesn’t exist under the same roof as you, but you were determined to see past him like a ghost. Unsurprisingly, he had shown you the same courtesy. Seungcheol even ate his meals alone in his room or in the room down in the basement.

Walking around the house post near-death-fight was an even bigger pain than before. There was an unspoken mutual agreement between the two of you, and that was to be completely oblivious to each other’s existence. Although the entire household was pushing for the both of you to make amends, it was clear that they have all underestimated both your stubbornness. You bet you could go months, maybe even years, pretending like Seungcheol didn’t exist within the same home as you.

While the lack of contact with the miserable imp was nice, the tension still weighed heavy in the air, and you knew it was beginning to suffocate the others as well. But as much as you felt bad for your housemates, they were the ones who forced you into this whole situation in the first place.

And so, he continued to act as if you were nothing but an echo in the hallways. He didn’t even sneer or frown, or show any physical signs of threats or discomfort. He simply acted as if you didn’t exist.

And you were fine with that.

Until, well, everyone else wasn’t.

The night hung heavy, and the moon cast a haunting glow on the house as you readied for sleep. You were seconds away from slipping under your covers when a timid knock echoed from your door. Wearily, you trudged over to answer, revealing a Wonwoo poised to knock again.

“Wonwoo?”

“Hi.”

“Can I help you?”

Wonwoo’s arms fall to his sides, his body rigid and expression wavering with hesitance. It was clear from his eyes that he was unsure of his presence at your door, especially at this late hour.

The past few weeks have admittedly been easier with the help of Wonwoo’s presence. He took care of you in little ways that you did not expect. He brought medicine with a cup of hot tea on the side for you every day. He would accompany you in silent book readings in the common room, discreetly sitting across from you in your favorite armchair to keep you company. And whenever you felt yourself about to be overcome with anxiety, somehow, almost miraculously, Wonwoo would appear to chase that sinking feeling of fear in your chest away.

Most times, he would ask if you’d like to accompany him in some tasks, like baking muffins for breakfast the next day, or flying on the broomsticks to help clean up the roof, or even picking flowers outside to make bouquets around the cottage.

Other times, he would make you a cup of tea and simply just sit by your side. He would make small talk if you felt like talking, but if you didn’t, he would just sit in silence with you. Sometimes, you would sit in silence for so long that your tea would grow cold, but by the time you noticed, Wonwoo had already gotten up to make you a fresh cup of tea to replace the cold one in your hands.

He had such a keen sense of your anxieties, you wondered if it was because he had the same fears as you.

A heavy sigh escapes you, heart feeling pity for the boy who has diligently stayed by your side everyday since the duel. “What is it?” Your voice is soft, speaking low to not be heard by others. “I was just about to go to sleep.”

“Oh— I’ll come back another night then—”

“Nonsense. Come inside.”

“I… I don’t want to take up too much of your time…”

“You spent the past three weeks putting me back together. You are allowed some of my time.”

He still seems hesitant. A jitteriness that was now making you nervous.

“What is it?” You ask in a tense whisper. “Did you get any news? Has someone else—”

“No! No, not at all,” He waves his hands quickly, immediately banishing the thought of losing yet another classmate. “I just— well, I’m not sure if this may come as a shock to you, but you must know that your fight with Seungcheol is making everyone else in the house deeply uncomfortable—”

You let out a deep sigh of relief. “Is this what you came in the middle of the night for?” Turning your back on him, you wave your hand back, motioning for him to leave your room. “Go to bed, Wonwoo.”

He grabs your left hand, making you halt in your tracks. Turning to face him, you saw the strain etched into his expression. His other hand pauses for a second before reaching over to pull up your sleeve. “Look at what's happened to you.”

Your hand whips out of his and you bring the sleeve down in a defensive rage. “What are you here for, Wonwoo?” You demand this time.

He gathers in a shaky breath as if he were afraid to speak another word out loud. “Have you ever heard of that spell?” His voice drops to a whisper, making sure that you are the only one that can hear him. “That was dark magic, nothing like what we were ever taught in school. Who do you think taught him that spell?”

“You think I care where you learned all your demented spells from?”

“Well you should! I know there’s been a difficult history between our houses, but we’re all here together now. We’re all classmates here, why can’t you just—”

“Just what? Want me to pretend like everythings okay? Like the outside world isn’t burning up all around us? Want me to forget what he’s done to me?”

“I’m not asking for you to forgive him or any of us, but I am asking you to just… accept the situation that we’re all in. Whether you like it or not, we are on the same side now.”

“Acceptance doesn’t come that easily, it’s something to be earned.”

His face falls. “Haven’t I?” Wonwoo’s eyes turn soft, yearning and desperate. “I was hoping that— that at least I am…”

Your heart clenches with guilt. “No… you’re right.” Shaking your head, you reach over to grab his hands in yours. “You’ve— you’ve been a great friend to me the past few weeks, and I can’t ever deny that, it wouldn’t be fair to you.”

His shoulders relax, and he gently returns your grasp. Giving him a faint smile, you guide him into your room as he quietly closes the door behind him. Taking a seat together on your bed, facing each other, a sense of solemnity settles between you.

“This situation in the house…” Wonwoo’s voice is still cautious. “I felt like I needed to come to you, and tell you… if you and Seungcheol continue on this way, it will break us all apart.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“People are starting to walk on eggshells around here, and it’s because of you two.”

“Did you give him the same talk, or are you just lecturing me?” You snap, unable to hold down your annoyance at how everyone’s been treating you since the duel. That loathsome fuck was the one who almost killed you, and yet everyone’s coming to you to try and make amends?

“Oh, trust me,” Wonwoo almost chuckles. “He’s getting lectured by both Mingyu and Hao. You got the lucky end of the stick.”

You bit back a smile at that.

“But you know it’s true. We have to split up with dueling practice, we don’t gather anymore to hear Jun’s nightly news, and we just eat our meals separately now. There needs to be some unity between us in order for us to work together.”

A bitter laugh escapes you. “Since when did you become so pragmatic?”

“I’ve always been,” he responds in exasperation. “I might be friends with those idiots, but don’t lump me in with their antics.”

“You’ve revealed your true self to me six years too late,” You say wryly.

Wonwoo reaches over to grasp your hands again. “I know, and that’s exactly why I refuse to let this chance slip away.” His look is so serious, your smile drops. “Besides, haven’t you ever noticed? I was always the one to pull the boys out of the fights.”

You pause, genuinely considering his words. “I can’t say I have.”

Wonwoo scoffs lightly. “Course not. Your attention was always elsewhere.”

“Like where?” You raise a brow.

“You know where,” he raises a brow back at you. “But now your attention is needed here. I came here because I need you to understand.”

“Understand what, Wonwoo.” Frustration starts to build. “That we’re all in this together now? That we aren’t enemies anymore because we’re fighting on the same side? I get it,” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm. “I still hate the bloody ass, but we’re stuck in this damned house for the same reason.”

The corner of his lips quirk up. “Glad to see that you’re not in denial anymore, but it’s important you know why we ran away in the first place.”

“Because your malevolent Dark Lord is out there murdering people left and right?”

“You’re not wrong,” he says, his eyes darkening. “Believe me when I say that even his most devoted followers feared him. It might have seemed like we were just taking Dark Magic lessons from the Death Eaters, but we were prisoners there. We— we were taught all these different ways to torture, sometimes even forced—”

Your face contorts in confusion, a sick feeling starting to settle in your stomach. “Have you ever…”

“Never.” He shuts you down before you could finish your question. “But… we came close a few times.”

Your hands draw away from his as a chill runs down your spine. Wonwoo looks ashamed, his hands clenched into fists.

“They trained us to be like them. They wanted us to just be another soldier. They taught us how to fight, how to torture, how to kill. They tried to poison our minds.”

A familiar panic starts to fill in his eyes, and guilt washes over you. The fear you’ve developed since running away from the Death Eaters was nothing in comparison to what he went through. How could anyone come out of that normal?

“They made us watch every night. We watched every single muggle, muggle-born or “traitor” be tortured until death. The Death Eaters were creative for sure, I watched some of their bodies be twisted in ways they shouldn’t and others lose their sanity. And on nights where the Eaters had a bit too much to drink, they would make us test the curses out on each other.”

A silence falls on your face, horror-stricken.

“One night… I saw him, Seokmin’s father. I recognized him from the platform before boarding the train. Seokmin looked just like him, the same eyes and smile… I had no idea he was a Muggle. I tried to help him escape.”

Your hands finds his again, gripping his fingers, apologetic for pulling away in the first place. The panic slowly rising in Wonwoo’s eyes.

“I had no idea he was a muggle,” he repeats, the pained look in his eyes begging you to believe him. “I thought we were almost out, but I got caught. Cicero— he was the one who caught me.”

His fingers felt cold in your hands.

“That was the last time I saw his father,” he murmurs. “And Cicero took me away.”

He pulls one hand up to his buttons on his shirt, a slight tremble as he starts to undo them. “Right here,” he guides one of your hands up to the center of his chest. “Is where I have the same scars as you.”

Your heart shatters at the revelation.

He laughs bitterly as you trail your fingers down his disfigured skin. “We all have them. Mingyu has them on his chest as well. Minghao is growing his hair longer to hide the ones on his back, and Seungcheol…” he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I never knew… I never imagined… the things you’ve been through,” your words fracture, not knowing what to say.

He’s back to smiling, a maddening reassurance you know he’s trying to give you despite the panic still in his eyes.

“Jean and I may have mended you back together, but Seungcheol cast the counterspell. He’s the one that saved you.”

“Seungcheol? But he’s the one who—”

“I know,” he nods. “He’s the one who used it on you in the first place, but when you were bleeding out in the common room, shirt torn apart and lifeless, it woke something back up in him.”

You shook your head, not saying anything. You didn’t want to believe him, but there was a quiet stirring in your head.

“He was the Dark Lord’s favorite. He trained the most out of all of us, the Dark Lord wanted to use him for his plans, and after months and months of enduring his training… he just couldn’t take it anymore.”

Tears start welling up in his eyes, his voice a mere whisper. “Something inside him… just snapped.” A tear falls from his face. “He didn’t want to kill the headmaster, but he had no choice. He had to. My closest friend is broken now because of it, and— and I don’t know how to fix him.”

Your chest crumples at the sight before you.

“He’s made the Unbreakable Vow.” Wonwoo reveals. “I needed you to understand. He just wanted to live.”

#scoups scenarios #seungcheol scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #scoups fic #seungcheol fic #harry potter au #seventeen x harry potter #seventeen harry potter au #seventeen x reader #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fic #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo angst

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justporo · 8 months

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A Dinner Beneath the Stars (or A Night of Shattered Glass and the Smell of Burning? (Part 2))

First off, @mushy6902 this has developed a mind and life of its own - I hope you still enjoy - also everyone else! This has become so much fluff, I have to get some pelt out of my mouth, excuse me…

Summary: It‘s been half a year that Astarion and Tav have been together officially. So, Astarion wants to surprise Tav with a romantic dinner and has enlisted the help of Gale for that (as could be read in Part 1, link following later). Now he has to execute his ambitious vision for the night. Tav meanwhile has other surprises in store for her favourite vampire.

Pairing: Astaron / Fem!Tav (You)

Warnings: Way too much fluff

Song for this one: The Cave by Mumford & Sons

You had left Astarion alone with himself for a little bit to run some errands while the sun was still violently out and about. Not only was it helpful sometimes to get some stuff done before your ‚day‘ started but it was also a nice opportunity to spend some time on your own. Because of course you loved every second you could spend with your vampiric better half but the two of you still were you‘re own persons and that came with doing some stuff on your own.

Not to mention that in the last couple of weeks Astarion had kind of regularly spent parts of his nights doing other stuff as well. What exactly that was, he wouldn‘t mention to you. And of course you respected his privacy and his autonomy to do his own things - especially since he hadn‘t been able to for the last two centuries, but… you‘d be lying if you didn‘t admit that there was a tiny part inside you wondering or rather worrying what he was up to.

You were on you way home when you had met Gale and had talked to him shortly. You‘d been meeting with him from time to time because he was a friend and you liked to stay in touch but it had still been weird running into him so close to your home since he lived in a much different part of town. Gale obviously had been very surprised too and almost seemed a touch hysteric. Very quickly he had told you that he was actually „running super super late for something“ and went on his way. You had just stood there and wondered if maybe it was that Tara got excessively feral if she didn‘t receive her dinner on time.

Now you were almost back home. You walked up the few steps to your townhouse after going through the wrought-iron gate that fenced off your property from the street. As you approached your front door you noticed that there was a small piece of paper neatly folded and tugged under it. You grabbed it with your hand that wasn‘t carrying the goods you had been procuring in town and awkwardly made to unfold it. A single line was written on it in Astarion‘s elegant, narrow handwriting:

„Meet me straight in the garden, my love! -A“

Your eyebrows jumped up. Immediately incredibly curious whatever it could be that Astarion was doing in your small garden behind the house.

The garden was a tiny thing really - cut off with wrought-iron fences overgrown with ivy so you couldn‘t even take a peek in your neighbour‘s much bigger gardens. And on the one end it was walled off by another mansion that was massive and very faceless without any windows towards your space. It was very much a private little space. Some people would‘ve called it degraded and crammed but you liked it and tended to it religiously. You had brought in lots of new plants and flowers, especially and mostly those that bloomed at night, some iron furniture and lanterns. And thus Astarion and you could spend warm summer nights outside in privacy surrounded by blossoms and warm light - sometimes a sole firefly even found its way to your little safe haven.

You unlocked the front door silently and placed down the packages you were carrying under your arm on the nearest piece of furniture. Your eyes narrowed - did you smell something cooking? That seemed unlikely hence the vampire, but surely your senses weren‘t playing a trick on you. For a split second you considered going into the kitchen to check if you were actually correct. But you discarded the thought as soon as it came. Astarion had asked you to come to the garden directly, so you would. It didn‘t hinder you though to try and sneak up on the rogue.

You sneaked up to the door leading to the garden but it was already open. And the moment you saw the scene that was set up in the small outside space your jaw dropped and you forgot about wanting to be inconspicuous.

Astarion sat at the small iron table over which he had draped some white tablecloth. On it stood two chalices - one from which the vampire was currently taking a drink - ,some red roses in a vase and a candlestick with candles already burning. The table was laid.

And that wasn‘t all - there were burning candles all over the garden, several more lushly blooming flowers had carefully been placed around the space - some in pots and some seemed to have spontaneously grown - at least from what you last remembered your garden had looked like. Even some rose petals were strewn about.

„What in the Nine Hells is going on here?“, you almost screamed, your voice a much higher pitch than usual. The vampire almost jumped out of his chair and made wine slosh all over him. He got up after having put down his drink. You immediately noticed two things about him: firstly, he had dressed up as well and was wearing a deep red doublet embroidered in gold and looked dashingly handsome in it. And secondly, he seemed incredibly nervous.

Astarion desperately tried to gain back his nonchalant composure. „Well what does it look like, my heart?“, he asked and smirked, one hand up in his usual relaxed stance as he regained some of his wits. „I am not sure“, you answered honestly, „are you trying to break up with me and hoping to lessen the blow with a nice final dinner?“ The moment the words left your mouth you felt that it was incredibly inappropriate regarding all the effort Astarion must‘ve put into all of this, but cracking jokes was your coping mechanism for when you got flustered. And, Gods, did you feel flustered - also massively underdressed.

The vampire, already used to your shenanigans and sometimes inadequate timing for jokes, just rolled with it and grinned at you: „Almost. The plan was to have a nice dinner but leave out the breaking up part - at least for tonight.“ He winked at you.

„Would you care to join me, my love?“, he asked after that and motioned to the other chair. You walked over to him and ignored how he had pulled out the chair for you, ever your gracious gentleman, and hugged him tightly. „Thank you, Astarion“, you whispered and squeezed him harder.

„Don‘t thank me yet, my sweet! Also, you‘re wrinkling my clothes.“ To that you let him go and slapped his arm before finally taking the offered seat.

„I feel completely underdressed, dearie“, you said as you sat down. „Oh, don‘t worry about it, tonight‘s all about you, my sweet, so I just wanted to give you something nice to look at“, Astarion said and produced a bottle of wine from under the table and filled your goblet with wine. „Oh, so are you part of tonight‘s menu?“, you asked playing coyly and taking a sip from the fresh wine - a full and sweet rosé this time, very much to your liking.

At your remark Astarion smirked immediately and threw you a lewd kind of glance: „We don‘t start with dessert, my sweet, that‘s rude.“ You pouted but then broke into a giggle. „What are the other courses then?“, you asked then with open curiosity. „Why don‘t you wait and find out?“ „You‘re such a tease, Astarion.“ „Isn‘t that part of why it‘s fun to be with me?“

You couldn‘t argue with that, so you chose silence and took another sip of wine. Then you suddenly remembered something: „Wait, does Gale have something to do with this?“

The vampire‘s face dropped and turned to anger. „I can‘t believe he told you. We had a deal an-“ „He told me nothing, don‘t worry. But I ran into him and he seemed weird and was in a rush. So much so, that I thought his cat must be running rampant at his place waiting for her wet food or something. But this checks out now“, you explained and watched Astarion relax again. He still cursed the wizard under his breath. When you raised an eyebrow at the pale elf, he sighed in defeat and said: „Yes, the wizard helped me set this all up - brought me some fresh ingredients since, you know, I can‘t exactly be out and about during daytime. He also worked some magic to help decorate the garden.“ „Aah, that explains why there are so many new plants - I was kind of worried I had become delusional.“ You smiled at Astarion, but he seemed sulky: „I did most and all of the rest of the decorating, my dear, it wasn‘t just all our lord and saviour, Gale of godsdamned Waterdeep. I even specifically picked out potted plants so they wouldn‘t just wither after this… because I know you don‘t like that.“ He basically pouted now and you couldn‘t help but laugh as your heart swelled.

„You did a wonderful job, really. I didn‘t mean to upset you“, you assured him and reached out to grab his hand with yours. You looked straight into his ruby eyes, trying to convey how much you meant what you said. „No one ever did anything even remotely close like this for me, Astarion. Honestly, I don‘t even really know what to say. I love you“, you said slowly while you felt yourself getting almost teary-eyed.

The vampire‘s eyes filled with warmth and a genuine soft smile crept onto his face: „Well, that‘s something to say after all, isn‘t it? I love you too, Tav.“ The way he said it - although you heard it a thousand times and you told each other at any possible opportunity - really almost started your tears.

And Astarion must‘ve realised the same because he quickly got up from his seat. „My lady, why don‘t we get started then? I guess this was enough of an assortment of emotions for an aperitif, don‘t you think?“, he spoke quickly and bowed graciously before you. And off he went.

He was gone several minutes during which you could hear several sounds coming from the kitchen - not all of them sounding as if they should happen naturally with the process. At one point you heard a loud shatter followed by a very hearty curse from Astarion that would‘ve caused a sailor to blush. You were almost out of the seat to check on your chef for the evening, when you heard from inside: „Don‘t you dare come in here, Tav!“ As if he had read your mind. So you simply let yourself fall back on your seat.

Shortly after Astarion reemerged from inside carrying two bowls of steaming hot soup. He sat one down in front of you and placed the other for himself. „Is everything alright?“, you asked him before he could say something. He simply nodded but when you grabbed his arm and threw him another look, he stopped for a second: „Darling, it‘s fine. I may have broken some plates and glasses but uhm… nothing that can‘t be replaced. Gale really didn‘t make clear enough how hectic this whole cooking endeavor can be when we practiced“, he explained quickly and was ready to go on, but you didn‘t let him.

„Wait, so are you saying Gale taught you how to cook? You could‘ve asked me, you know?“ Astarion threw you a very annoyed glance, probably because of yet another mention of your mutual wizard friend. „And where would have been the surprise in this then? And yes, if you must know, Gale gave me some lessons during the last couple of weeks.“ You raised your eyebrows at him and something in your head connected: „So, that‘s were you‘ve been all the time!“ Astarion snorted: „Maybe - I could‘ve also been in some other lover‘s arms. Someone who doesn‘t interrupt me the whole damn time.“

You let go of his wrist, pursed your lips and crossed your arms over your chest.

„Now, if I may - as an entrée we have a simple mushroom soup made from several different kinds all sourced from local forests and some herbs.“ That immediately made you snap out of your mood - because you loved mushroom soup. Nothing compared to it on a stormy autumn night or when you felt kind of shallow and sad sometimes.

You grabbed your spoon eager to try but stopped when you heard Astarion inhale sharply. Your eyes went to his. „Just… maybe keep in mind, that I‘ve never really done this?“, the vampire pleaded. His tone sounded jokingly but you knew there was genuine worry in it. You just smiled at him and gave it a taste - if it remotely tasted like it smelled, he‘d done a tremendous job.

And it did taste amazing, Gale had taught him well. „That‘s great, Astarion, almost as good as mine“, you gave him your review with a big grin. That seemed to reassure the vampire at least a bit, judging by how his chest swelled a little and his chin lifted. „Why thank you, my gracious darling“, he replied and tried the soup for himself. He nodded self-indulgently and threw you another glance - humour twinkling in his eyes: „Not bad, if I may say so myself - as someone who has developed quite a niche taste.“ You laughed and shook your head while continuing your soup.

You finished the entrée while talking and joking. The main dish followed consisting of a perfectly cooked fish filet, some mixed steamed green vegetables and a truly delicious lime sauce. By then you were truly impressed by how well Astarion seemed to have handled all the cooking - especially on his own.

When you told him exactly that he seemed so happy and proud of himself your heart almost ached with the love you felt for him.

You kept chewing your last bite of the fish when you said: „Here‘s one thing I‘ve wanted to ask you, love, but it is really one of those things I should‘ve asked months ago because now I‘m actually almost too afraid to.“ Astarion who had already finished his plate leaned his elbows on the table, crossed his fingers and put his chin on top of them: „As long as the question isn‘t ‚wouldn‘t it have been better if we had parted ways months ago‘ - go ahead, ask, my love.“ You pointed your fork at him over the table in a way that was supposed to tell him to stop making fun of you. He just smirked. You swallowed your bite and then continued. „So, as we all know you can drink wine. Lots of it. Let‘s actually not talk in detail about how your consumption could probably only be measured by gallons“ - („Point made, love, go on…“) - „But what about food exactly? I mean I‘ve seen you eat just know and you do seem to eat quite a lot of the stuff I make, but…“ Your words trailed off, just hoping for Astarion to catch your meaning.

„Well, I certainly can eat if I choose to do so. It just… doesn‘t nourish me. It‘s really purely for entertainment at this point in my life, un-life I mean, really. So I usually only choose to eat what I prefer, because quite frankly: why else should I?“ You nodded to that because it made sense. „And I do actually really like what you create, my love, so I indulged more often than I have in quite some time.“ He smiled at you and you felt a sense of pride rise within you. Because wasn‘t that actually quite a huge compliment?

Astarion opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself when he caught the whiff of something coming from the kitchen.

„Oh shit“, he hissed and dashed back inside lightning-quick. Your eyes followed him, confusion in your face, then the smell reached you as well: something was burning.

You heard busy bustling and a few more curses coming from the kitchen before the vampire finally came back. A huge grin on his face. „We are quite in luck I managed to save the dessert, my love, chocolate cakes with strawberry sauce.“ Your eyes lit up at the mention of chocolate and strawberries - together. Although, hadn‘t there been mention of dessert already?

„I thought you were my dessert?“, you said throwing Astarion a glance from under your lashes as he placed the plates down. The small cakes looked delicious.

„Oh, love, if you‘re still so hungry after this I‘ll gladly offer myself up. Now eat!“, he demanded. You didn‘t need to be told twice - the chocolate combined with the fruit sauce was heavenly. Your eyes rolled back as you gave a small pleased moan.

Your soulmates grin grew a little dirty at your reaction to his final show of new found talent for cooking. „I guess it‘s almost as sweet as you, love“, he simply commented and watched you devour the rest of the dish.

You finished the sweet dessert, savouring every last bit of it then sighed happily: „That was so good, Astarion, you should cook every day.“ „Hmm, let‘s keep that for special occasions, my sweet, or my dead little heart will give out with all the pressure.“ You laughed nervously: „What special occasion?“

Astarion became suddenly silent before he quietly said: „Well technically it‘s not yet an anniversary, but today… we‘ve been together for half a year. So… a half-a-versary?“ He threw you a cautious glance. „Oh no, that was today?“, you asked him shyly - but the glint of a grin had entered your eyes. Unfortunately, Astarion couldn‘t see it since he was idly moving around his last piece of cake with the fork.

„Well, I figured I wanted to do something to celebrate - for you. But maybe it was a stupid idea and now I will have to surpass my genius self for our actual anni-„ He finally looked up and saw the look on your face.

„You little shit, darling“, he exclaimed and threw his napkin at you „stop making me make a fool of myself!“ You grinned at him: „You didn‘t seriously think I‘d forget.“

When Astarion wanted to protest you lifted a finger and stood up. Motioning him to give you a moment.

You quickly went inside and grabbed the packages from where you had placed them when you had come home. You picked them up and went outside again. Astarion had turned sideways on his chair so he could await your return. The look on his face was equal parts joy, confusion and „I‘m still annoyed at you“ when you placed the three large but rather slim packets into his hands. They were all the same size and shape.

He was taken aback and stared at the packages in his hands that had been plainly wrapped in some paper. And as he kept staring at them without saying a word you realised that this man was not used to receiving gifts - at all.

„I - uh…“, he stuttered and twisted the gifts around, „get the feeling these aren‘t books?“ He looked up shortly to see if you were looking at him. You grinned at him response. „Sharp perception, my love“, you said and motioned to him to start unwrapping. But then a thought sprang into your mind.

„No wait, actually“, you shouted and grabbed the packets again out of Astarion‘s hands who yelped a little and looked a little hurt. You peeked into each package then rearranged them before handing them back. „Now - start with the one on top. Happy half-a-versary“, you told him - pleased with yourself for this last minute change and adopting his term for the event.

Astarion regarded you suspiciously but his curiosity won him over quickly so he started to carefully unwrap the top one. He was being dramatic about it, when he ever so slowly started to lift the paper and threw you a glance every other second to make sure you were carefully watching him. And you were - because now you couldn‘t even tell who was more excited about this process.

„Stop teasing and get to it, Astarion“, you exclaimed when he kept going at a snail‘s pace. „I am sorry, my heart, but I can‘t remember the last time I got a gift - a real gift from someone - I‘m trying to savour the moment!“, he responded offendedly. And you truly couldn‘t fault him for that - so you kept silent after that.

With a quick movement he took off the final piece of wrapping and revealed…

A portrait painting of himself. On it he was looking off to the side, showing him partly with a side profile. He wore a beautiful and intricately worked doublet that actually looked very similar to the one the live version was currently wearing. On his face was his signature smirk - but it was soft and his ruby eyes were filled with warmth for whatever he was looking at outside of the frame.

Real Astarion had become a statue while you gasped when you saw the finished painting. You had seen it before of course, because you had been the one who had commissioned it. But it still absolutely took your breath away: the artist had absolutely outdone herself, especially for not ever seeing the real life model. The painting was not only a perfect portrayal of Astarion but it also showed and offered so much emotion. Just seeing it made you want to hug and kiss your real vampire in front of you.

The original still seemed speechless. After a while you actually got worried that something was amiss - maybe it wasn‘t something he liked? „Is everything okay, Astarion, do you not like it?“

The vampire lifted his gaze to yours and your face dropped. Tears were openly streaming down his face. „That‘s what I look like? Really?“, he asked you with a hoarse voice while more tears ran down his face, dropping onto his doublet. You immediately felt your eyes well up as well so you only responded with nodding very eagerly.

„I mean“, Astarion said and looked down at the portrait again, holding it carefully to not ruin it with his tears „no offense to your drawings of me but this…“ „My drawings never fully captured you“, you replied with a sob and waved off his comment. „Gods, I am a beautiful bastard, aren‘t I?“, Astarion said with a short high-pitched laugh and started to regain some of his calm. „You are“, you confirmed again and slowly walked over to him to put your arms around him from behind.

„How did you pull this off, darling?“, he asked while turning his head sideways to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. „Well, I looked for an artist that could possibly paint your portrait without having you sit for it. So I did some research and found a wonderful woman that was up to the challenge. I gave her lots of my drawings of you for reference and the rest we did with many sessions where I sat down and talked about you and who and how you are and how much I love you and such. And so, this is the result“, you explained and kept looking at the painting. „Seems this woman is truly a prodigy“, Astarion said and you nodded. „Also, it seems I wasn‘t the only one with a secret quest these past weeks“, he said and chuckled. You nodded to that: „Although I was more sneaky then you were.“ Astarion gave you a look but then nodded approvingly - you‘d taken that win home.

After a while of looking at himself, the pale elf turned his head again and gave you another kiss: „Thank you, my love, I really don‘t know how to properly put this but this means incredibly much to me. Thank you for knowing this and doing this, my sweet. I guess I always knew why I picked you.“ He winked at you and smiled. You smiled back.

„So - are the other ones nude paintings of me? Because that might make me cry again, my heart. I don‘t know if I can take that much beauty in just one night“, the vampire spoke after another while and looked at you cheekily and giving you his best smirk. „And yet you keep looking at me every night“, you immediately retorted and gave him a slap on the shoulder. „Unwrap them and find out“, you continued trying not to give away anything.

„Please don‘t tell me you also gave this woman details about my… private parts, love. I may be very open-minded but maybe… not that“, Astarion said with a mostly joking tone - but a tiny bit of worry to it.

You simply motioned for him to go on. And so he did - unwrapping the second painting a bit faster and revealing…

A portrait of you. Wearing a dress that Astarion had gifted you some time ago, embroidered by „yours truly“. You‘re head was also turned a bit sideways, but to the opposite direction of Astarion in his painting. One shoulder was slightly lifted into a coy pose while you smiled warmly and promisingly at someone beyond what could be seen.

Astarion‘s jaw dropped again: „Oh my love, she captured you perfectly. Gods, I can‘t believe how beautiful you are. That face, that pose - as if I was looking directly at you.“ You smiled and buried your face into his shoulder while peeking at the painting to hide your growing blush.

Then the vampire realised. He held up both of the portraits next to each other. Side by side it was clear the two paintings belonged together. Your painted selves looking at each other warmly and lovingly.

The tears were almost coming back up for you. „This is the most beautiful gift, I believe, that you could‘ve possibly given me, Tav“, Astarion whispered in a sincere voice.

„Unwrap the last one“, you whispered back - feeling tense with anticipation. He complied wordlessly and opened up the remaining package to reveal the last painting:

It was the both of you, now joined in this final painting. In it, Astarion had his nose slightly nuzzled to your cheek, his eyes were closed and he was smiling broadly. His hand was on your shoulder. You were leaning into his touch, eyes also closed and smile just as broad.

You couldn‘t help it - your tears started to flow again. Astarion quickly noticed and carefully placed all three paintings down before he grabbed your hands and made you move around the chair he was still sitting on and softly pushed you to sit down on his lap. He brushed your tears away with his thumbs and whispered to you although his cheeks looked suspiciously wet as well. He kissed you again and again while he held you and stroked your back.

„Tav, this is the most incredible gift. It‘s a shame all I can say for that is thank you. But take that and also: I love you, my heart, you‘re the best thing that‘s ever happened to me“, he whispered softly when both your tears had finally dried. Then he kissed you deeply.

„My romantic dinner pales in comparison, I have to say. But how could I have imagined that you would go so massively overboard for just our half-a-versary. I‘ll probably have to find a unicorn to surpass that, sweetheart, bravo to you!“ „Don‘t sell yourself short, Astarion, this was so incredible. You became a masterful chef in a matter of weeks and no one has ever done even remotely close for me!“, you interrupted him, „I‘d say we are pretty much even in terms of effort, execution and result.“

Astarion smiled at you openly and squeezed you in his embrace then kept on blabbering happily and seemed positively giddy with joy and love.

You let him go on for a while longer before you grabbed his face and started to kiss him. Your chest ached with how much you loved this man.

„I love you, Astarion, so much. Do you know that?“

He smirked at you: „I had an inkling.“ He kissed you again and told you he loved you back.

„I remember though, there was talk of second dessert earlier - would you care to indulge?“, he then asked you while looking up at you with a growing naughty grin. „Or“, he suddenly said as you were already getting ready to smother him with kisses „we could go for the cheese platter I still have prepared in the kitchen.“

You leaned back and tapped your chin with a finger, indicating that you had to think hard about your options. „Second dessert first and then cheese in bed?“, you offered up.

„Sounds lovely, my sweet!“, Astarion replied cheerfully and lifted you up in his arms to carry you inside. You giggled and only hoped you could celebrate many more anniversaries with your soulmate - our half-a-versaries for that matter.

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