#(also my parents usually insist on like. getting me a new skirt or something but much as i love them my wardrobe is full enough as it is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

50shadesofrossi · 2 years

Text

Insanity and Devotion

Young Johnny Lawrence x F!Reader

Part One

Summary: The usual family night at the Country Club turns into something else when you meet a blonde haired Johnny Lawrence

Warnings: Swearing

Author’s Note: Just an fyi, I haven’t written anything in quite a while and I’m trying to get back into it with a short little Johnny Lawrence Fic

Saturday night-your least favourite night of the week. No matter how much you beg and plead, your father still makes you attend the Country Club with your family; forcing smiles and fake laughs until the clock strikes nine and you can bolt out the back door. Suppose, it's your father's way of keeping your family tight, knowing once your brother and yourself are older, you'll branch out and see each other less and less.

You can't fault him, but there are plenty of other activities you could be doing with your gang of friends instead. Three of your friends are also dragged to the event by their parents, making the situation not completely terrible, but it would be better to not be separated by social groups.

Your parents mingle in their cliches, your father with his business partners and your mother with the older, snobbish women. You sneer at the judgmental glares they send your way throughout the night, no doubt your mother expressing how unladylike you've gotten in the past year.

Sure, you used to dress nicely and smile at the handsome boys who stood alongside their parents during introductions and ate food with a delicacy your mother forced you to master and you always kept quiet unless spoken to, but since becoming friends with boys, well, let's say all sixteen years of brainwashing went down the drain.

Goodbye, cute dresses, cute hairstyles and pretty makeup. Hello, jeans and shirt, natural hair and the occasional lipstick. You no longer care about dolling yourself up for others, when you're a natural beauty who needs no 'assistance'. The little heels were replaced with doc martens and on the odd day, heeled boots.

You got piercings and revealed your bad bitch attitude.

Though sometimes, that bad bitch attitude gets you in trouble.

"Damn Baby, I didn't think you and adorable would ever be in the same sentence." Your friend chuckles, gesturing to the cardigan and short-sleeved shirt your mother insisted you wear, tucked into your skirt. You flip him off, walking down the small set of stairs to pinch the joint from between his fingers.

Ever since you could remember, you've been called Baby, your real name saved for the moments when you're in dire trouble. Sometimes your father will throw in your middle name for added exaggeration.

"Ha ha, real funny." You scowl, pressing the joint to your lips and leaning against the building.

The back door suddenly opens and the three of your friends scurry down to join you, having also escaped from their parent's sights. "I don't know about you Baby, but my parents are trying to set me up!"

You exhale, the puff of cloud floating into the atmosphere. "You're almost eighteen Debby, what do you expect?" You hand her the much-needed bud. "I assume I'll be in the same boat in two years."

"Pfft, please," Brett laughs. "As if anyone could handle you."

You all laugh, knowing it's true. Your parents have a hard enough time as it is, your father is a little easier but hard nonetheless.

"The only person capable of controlling Baby, is someone just as insane."

You roll your eyes, passing up the offer of alcohol that Steve managed to swipe on his way out. Normally you are all for it, but you know your father will be pissed if he smells weed and alcohol. He's pretty flexible with your rebellious phase, allowing you to stay out until eleven-thirty, shaking his head at the new piercings or scandalous outfits and occasionally allowing you to skip school.

He likes to remind your mother of the man he was when she met him; the exact same way you are now. He remembers wanting to try and figure himself out, changing up the new styles and having fun with his friends up until senior year when he put his head down and graduated with the third-highest grade in his school.

Realistically, you have a year and a bit of having fun and being carefree, and then you need to knuckle down and do the best you can. You haven't the slightest idea of what you want to do after high school, though you are leaning towards something to do with art.

From the moment you could hold a pencil, you've been drawing, creating images and scenes from your little mind and quite literally putting it on paper. As you've grown, so has your talent, and you're favourite style.

At least you know you'll never fail your art major in two years.

"What do you think, Baby?"

You blink, turning to face your friend Miranda. "What do I think...?"

"I told you she wasn't listening." Deborah laughs, extending the joint back to you. "We're thinking of crashing the Mayfield party afterwards, wanna join? We might run into Gemma."

At this, you perk up, your jaw clenching. Gemma; bitch number one. You used to be best friends, almost sisters from your first meeting in kindergarten, but after you walked into your little brother's bedroom during a party you hosted only a couple of months back, you've been waiting for the right time to pummel her. Your younger brother-by almost a year-was so smashed that he required assistance to make it to his room, and when you managed to get up there to check on him, you found Gemma undressing him.

She tried to take advantage of your drunk brother, and you lost it.

Few people know the true story, recreating rumours from the little scenes witnessed that night. Only you and your friends know the real story; Gemma and your brother included.

"For her sake, I'd hope not." You grit, your mood severely dampened.

"I'm surprised you haven't beat her yet, the Baby I know doesn't have enough control for that," Brett murmurs, remembering the night.

You purse your lips, glaring at the concrete below. "Master Phil told me to wait until the tournament when I can unleash and still beat her; again." At a young age, you began learning Taekwondo, working your way up to a second dan black belt. Every known and again you compete in tournaments, entering the Weapons and Poomsae sections. You try to avoid Sparring at all costs, knowing how ruthless you become.

You originally joined alongside Gemma, an incident at school encouraging your fathers to sign you up. Not long after, you moved to a different dojo, not liking the Master's style and flourishing with Master Phil. At least it allows you to have some friendly competition, which has now changed to a serious rivalry.

You intend on signing up for Sparring.

Before anyone can say anything else, the back door slams against the building, the noise startling you. The bright light casting down on your little area blinds you, blinking furiously to adjust and try to recognise the figure standing at the threshold.

"Steven Phillips! How many times do I have to catch you before you learn your lesson!"

Shit, you scramble to move away, instantly knowing who that angry voice belongs to; the manager. Most nights you attend, your group is caught stealing food or alcohol, creating your reputation amongst the staff.

You stifle a laugh as Brett hauls ass into the darkness, knowing his parents would crack down on him for being caught at the Country Club again. The four of you sprint for the patio along the side, dodging people and ducking around objects to slide through the glass doors and into the crowded room.

You lose sight of your friends, your adrenaline pumping and your ears burning at the frantic movement and rush of getting away. Something tells you that your father will be less than pleased if you get into trouble again.

Weaving your way through the scattered people, you swivel your head to try to catch sight of the manager, releasing a sharp breath when you see him following Steve up the stairs. With your attention fixated in front of you, you don't sense the person behind you, until you collide with them.

Hands reach out to steady you, your own grasping anything to keep the both of you upright. "I'm so sorry!" You blurt, your eyes wide in shock.

"Hey! You should watch where you're going," they cut off, their eyes finding yours.

You pause, taking in his azure blue eyes that fixate on you. They're the first thing you notice, the bright colour capturing your attention. You could probably spot them from a mile away. For a heartbeat you stare at them, the pools of colour swirling the longer you go before you blink and really notice the guy.

His sandy blonde hair covering his forehead yet swept slightly to the right, freckles painting his cheeks and nose. His dark coloured suit complimenting his skin tone, and hinting at the fact that he's from money. You've never seen this boy before, making it a tad bit awkward for the blatant staring and for bumping into him.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention." You cringe at the slightly higher octave in your voice, hoping he doesn't notice.

"No it's alright," he smiles, his hands still gripping your forearms gently yet firmly. "You seemed like you were in a hurry,"

You falter at the sight of his smile, the corner of his mouth twisted up. "I was-I am." You correct yourself, breaking eye contact to find the manager descending the stairs. You don't know if they've spotted you, nor do you want to find out. "Again, I apologise for the disruption."

Almost reluctantly, you pull away from his grasp, turning to continue your way through the bodies and effectively out of sight. You don't feel the gaze following you until you slip around a corner. You also don't feel the heat in your cheeks from your encounter, too focused on finding your family and blending in for the rest of the evening.

You approach your table, your father standing at the sight of you. "Baby, where have you-really?" He scolds, smelling the weed.

Your face flushes at the realisation, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. Did you seriously just have that entire encounter with the handsome boy, whilst smelling of pot? Your father raises a brow at your stupidity to cover your tracks, gripping your shoulder. "Go to the ladies' room and freshen up, before your mother sees you."

You nod, ignoring your snickering brother from the table. How could you be so stupid, the number one rule is to douse yourself in perfume afterwards and you couldn't even do that. And, you were in close proximity to a boy, smelling like you do.

Amateur.

"Sorry, daddy," you mumble.

"Go," he urges, gesturing for the bathroom before turning to return to his conversation.

Your brother stifles his laugh, quickly jumping out of his chair to escort you to the bathroom, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. "Did you at least save any for me?"

"No, Brett took it."

"Aw man, why don't I ever get any?" He whines.

You roll your eyes, shrugging his arm off and placing your hand on the door of the bathroom. "Because they're my friends, and not yours." He pouts. "If you cover for me later, I'll bring some home."

Classic sibling bribery, the only way the two of you get along. Once your brother was old enough, you began 'training' him on it, using it for almost everything. Of course, you're a little better at digging up the dirt on him, as any older sibling is.

"You better," he points, narrowing his eyes and slowly backing away for added effect. You chuckle at his antics, finally pushing the door open and entering the bathroom.

The light reflecting off the white tiles blasts into your eyesight, causing you to blink erratically as you make your way to the sink. Most of the women here attend daily, all know each other and thus leaving products for everyone to use, should anything arise. Thankfully, it gives you the perfect opportunity to dose yourself in perfume, wrinkling your nose at the pungent smell.

Behind you, a small group of girls your age rush in, occupying a small selection of sinks and two of them jumping up onto the counter, all the whole animatedly chatting. You nibble on the corner of your lip at the conversation, pretending to check yourself over.

"Have you seen Johnny tonight? He looks absolutely dashing." One of them giggles, reapplying her lipstick.

For a moment you swallow the heaviness in your throat, opting to tune out the dreamy sighs as they relive their encounter with said Johnny. As much as you love your friends and the way you all are, sometimes you wonder what it'd be like if you were different; you don't talk about crushes or prom or anything like that. It's normally about parties, something stupid the boys did and getting high.

Sometimes you wish you were close with them, much like the girls next to you clearly are with each other-encouraging the first girl about the boy and reminding her to play hard to get, presenting herself to be uninterested but pursuable.

Ugh, what am I thinking? I couldn't imagine anything worse.

Turning to exit the bathroom, you make haste in retreating back to your table, sitting across from your brother. Your parents have learnt to separate you both since the last altercation you created.

You lean back in your chair, huffing at the way your mother acts with her friends, hand movements, fake laugh and her voice raised a little high. On the other side of the table, your brother sits straighter, mocking your mother's movements and mouthing a conversation.

You chuckle, amusement dancing over your features at his antics, your mother completely unaware.

"Ah Sid, it's good to see you," your father voices beside the table, shaking hands with the wealthy man.

Your brother abruptly stops, his cheeky grin giving himself up as your father turns to introduce the man to your family. You glance sideways to inspect the man when you come face to face with the boy from earlier; the one with the azure eyes you stumbled into.

"Oh fuck," you mutter, averting your attention to your empty glass in front of you.

Your father calls your name, gesturing to the both of you and your brother, Sid shaking his hand. You smile politely, wanting nothing more than to remove yourself from the awkward situation, even more so as Sid reveals the boy's name.

"This is my wife Laura, and her son Johnny,"

You reluctantly glance up, meeting Johnny's gaze. He smiles almost hesitantly, like he isn't sure what else to do besides hold your attention. You think back to the girls in the bathroom, blurting, "so you must be Johnny."

His eyebrows raise in surprise. "You've heard of me?"

"Only in passing." You smirk, already sniffing out his inflated ego.

He nods slightly, a little confused though interested in seeing where this could go. "Yeah? Where?"

The adults take a seat, claiming dinner is soon to be served and your father has much to discuss with Sid, Johnny situating himself beside you. "The bathroom, this group of girls couldn't stop fawning over your, what'd she say? Dashing features."

Johnny perks up at the comment, his neck heating up. "And who is this girl? I must meet her."

"Oh, that one over there with the blonde hair." You lean close, pointing to the girl over his shoulder.

"Ali?!" He says her name a little loud next to your ear, causing you to wince.

You tilt your head, smirking at his excited expression. She must mean something to him, otherwise, he would've kept cool and brushed it off, going off his personality trait you can already pick out.

"She your little crush?"

For a heartbeat, Johnny forgets where he is, his features darkening at the possibility of you making fun of him, until he notices the amusing spark in your eye and the sly smile threatening to spill. So you're a cheeky little thing.

"She's a girl I go to school with, a pain in my ass."

"Mhm, sure." You lean back. From his reaction, she must be a real thorn in his side. You've never met this boy before and here you are, making easy conversation and actually enjoying it. Most of the time you roll your eyes at their incessant rambling about sports or cars or even big talk to make themselves seem cooler.

A real charm, the boys at your school are.

"I've never seen you here before," he starts, capturing your brother's attention.

"That's because she's usually out the back smoking billy's."

"Hey!" You scold, your mother jumping in her seat at his language. She uses his full name, alerting him that he's in serious shit for using that mouth in this building, around these successful people.

Beside you, Johnny uses his hand to cover his laugh, choking in an attempt to keep it down. You scoff are your brother, glaring daggers at him.

You can forget our deal.

What?! I was only half-joking!

Forgotten.

"Baby!" He whispers harshly once you break contact, knowing you'll stick to your word. "Come on, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry."

You cock a brow, daring him to say more. Johnny watches from the side, unaware of the stakes yet curious to know the hidden meaning behind your silent conversation.

The appearance of waiters placing food down cuts the large room in half, voices dimming down as people eat and quietly converse between bites. You slowly eat, not feeling hungry yet knowing you should have a full stomach. Your father has a sudden interest in the boy beside you, asking him questions about school and his future plans.

Sid laughs, causing Laura to frown and encourage Johnny to continue anyway. He slips one hand down to his lap, blinking drastically and pausing for a moment before starting. You notice his hand clench, his knuckles turning white at the comments his stepfather makes. If you didn't know any better, you'd say Johnny is two seconds away from throwing that fist.

Something compels you, your hand reaching over to cover his. He feels warm, a tad on the hot side and a little clammy in comparison to your cool touch. You don't stop your eating, acting normal despite him going silent and allowing the adults to take over. You peak out the corner of your eye, taking in his red ears and tight jaw, glaring holes into his plate and his chest rising.

Hot temper.

The colour begins to fade, his breath evening out and his hand slowly relaxing under your own, making you turn your head slightly. You can't help but piece together that Sid must treat Johnny like some sort of financial aid, a kid he never wanted but let's stick around because of his mother. You could only imagine the emotions brewing inside the boy, the hatred and humiliation.

He meets your eye, gratitude spiralling within his own.

You eventually remove your hand as the dinner progresses, you and your brother chatting about some of the people you know when you catch a glimpse of your friends going up to dance. Deborah meets your gaze across the floor, a subtle flick of her head to signal you get up there. No doubt to plan the rest of the evening.

You lick your lips, sending a small nod of confirmation to her. You know your father will be suspicious if you just waltz up to them or try to meet somewhere away from the public eye, leaving you with the only option of dancing, and 'coincidently coming into contact with her and your other friends.'

Sparing another glance at Johnny, you tilt your head at his quietness, that arrogant, cocky boy from earlier, nowhere to be seen. "Let's go dance," you say lowly.

"You want to dance?" He turns, confusion swirling within his azure eyes.

You nod. "We can leave these old crones to their chatter, whilst we go have fun."

Johnny flickers over to his mother and Sid as though weighing his options and coming to a decision. He stands, the movement catching the attention of the adults. "We're going to dance." You tell them, quickly grabbing Johnny's hand and leading him near Deborah and some lad on the dance floor before your father can object.

One of his hands comes to rest on your back, the other holding your own with a delicacy you would only imagine as hesitancy. You rest on his shoulder, taking the time to fall into the rhythm of the song and relax. Johnny takes the lead, his jaw tense and his figure a little uptight as he burns a hole through your eyes.

He seems a little out of his element, despite his impeccable footwork and efficient movements, revealing his athletic side of him. If only you knew it was because of his years of extensive training in Karate.

"Baby!" You turn your head, smiling at Deborah.

"Steve didn't get caught did he?" You ask, mildly aware of the fact that you are still moving.

She shakes her head, grinning like a madwoman. "We're thinking of meeting up at Brett's? His little boy toy can take us up to Mayfield's."

Brett constantly denies the fact that he has a boyfriend, calling him a thing, nothing serious, even though he looks at the man so much adoration. His boy toy has a license, and generally hauls your asses around the Valley. You all brush Brett's antics off, knowing deep down he still struggles with his sexuality because of his parents.

"Sounds like a plan. Say, 10:30?"

You and Deborah lock in the time, Deborah leaving to alert Miranda and Steve of the plans when you shift your focus back to the boy in front of you, tilting your head at his serious gaze.

"So that's why I'm here,"

"Hmm?" You step forward, your chests brushing and the air heating up alongside the beat of the music.

"Just a front for your daddy."

You shrug, ignoring the feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach. You've only met the guy a little over two hours ago and your body is already responsive to his close presence. You blame it on his charming looks. "That, and it looked like you could do with some space." You lower your voice, not wanting to impose on his situation yet uncovering the fact that you could read the room.

He swallows, avoiding your eye as you both continue to move, his fingers flexing along your back. Goosebumps erupt along your flesh, your blood pumping under his warm touch. "Sid, he uh," he starts, his brows furrowing in concentration.

"You don't have to explain it to me."

Johnny's azure pools dart up, surprise etched across his features. He's so used to people prying, that he almost forgot what it's like to have someone not care about his private life, to not making him lie and protect his stepfather's reputation.

You smile sweetly, readjusting your grip on his shoulder as a sudden flash of confidence bursts throughout Johnny, his steps becoming more strong and his form straightening. You'd never picture this boy to be a fantastic dancer, leading throughout the song without a fault.

Suddenly, the tempo changes and a new song begins. Your eyes widen in recognition, excitement coursing throughout your body as you sway your body to the beat. "The warden threw a party in the county jail. The prison band was there, and they began to wail." You belt out the lyrics, forgetting your stunned dance partner and turning to face your brother who leapt out of his seat the moment the song started.

"This is our song Baby!" He yells excitedly, grabbing your hands and sending you both into your practiced positions. You and your brother adore Elvis Presley, creating dances to the majority of his songs and memorizing the lyrics.

Your body flows with the beat, most of the people on the floor making room for you both as you become the centre of the attention. You move away from your brother temporarily, pointing your finger at yourself then at him, following the words. "Number forty-seven said to number three, you're the cutest jailbird I ever did see,"

He laughs at your enthusiasm, finishing the verse, "I sure would be delighted with your company. Come on and do the Jailhouse Rock with me!"

Johnny stands alongside your parents, chuckling at you with surprise. The last thing he expected tonight is to see someone so joyous in a song, allowing the energy to enter your body and take control.

"Go Baby!" Miranda cheers you on during the instrumental solo.

Your body warms from the excessive movements, blood pumping and your cheeks heating up. Glancing up, you spot Johnny fairly easily, observing you from the outskirts. "Come on," you mouth, jutting your head back in an attempt to coax him onto the dance floor with you.

He shakes his head, putting his hands up and slightly backing away. Put him on a mat against anyone in a tournament with hundreds of people watching, but out there on a dance floor? Fuck that. You roll your eyes, a laugh escaping you as your father not so subtly nudges the boy forward, right into your reach.

You grasp onto his hands before he can retreat, pulling him further out. "That's not very nice," he grumbles.

"I'm actually helping you out here, but if you don't want it,"

He frowns, loosely following you. "Helping me how?"

"Little miss pain in my ass, hasn't been able to keep her eyes off you since we came up here." You tell him, having noticed Ali the moment you and Johnny stood and left the table. "Don't look!" You quickly stop him from turning to see for himself, bringing his attention back to you. "You don't want her to know we're gossiping about her."

"And you’re helping me because...?"

You shake your head lightly, rolling your eyes again at his antics. "Ali's playing hard to get, which is fine and all, but she needs to be reminded that after a while it can get tiring, and there are other options out there." Understanding flashes across his features, his eyes sparkling. "Trust me, after tonight, she'll adjust her attitude toward you and you'll be taking her on a date in no time."

"So, you’re making me look like a player?" He muses. In all honesty, the boy had forgotten about the blonde-haired girl from school, enjoying his time with you.

You deadpan, barely registering how close you've become, his breath fanning your own and your hands still clasped with your fingers laced. It's hard to believe you've only met the boy this evening, having felt like it's been at least five years.

A bright smile spreads across his face, his azure iris' lighting up. Jailhouse Rock finishes and another starts, the both of you getting lost amongst yourselves, enjoying the music and floating around the other.

"Baby, we're going home." Your father calls out.

Immediately you both stop, a twinge of disappointment churning in your stomach. For the first time in a long time, you've really enjoyed yourself with this stranger. You don't really want to leave, knowing he won't ask for your number and deep down you want him to, meaning this will probably be the last time you see him.

Running a hand over your head to compose yourself, "goodnight Johnny, it was fun dancing with you." Johnny licks his lips, his neck warm and his heart pounding in nervousness? "Yeah, you too." He breathes, his chest rising heavily. His azure eyes flicker with emotion, his thoughts spiralling and the only thing he can say is, "goodnight, Baby."

#johnny lawrence #johnny lawrence x reader #william zabka #the karate kid

221 notes · View notes

likealayka · 2 years

Text

You see Holly everyday.

You are in the same class, duh.

You want to rail her so hard she cries.

You want to see her pretty shade of lipstick smeared, her perfect smoky eye smudged with all those tears.

You don't think she even notices that you exist somewhere around her.

That is until your lovely parents (clearly finally ashamed for years of mentally draining you) gifted you a motorcycle.

It's a beast - black leather, chrome, spotless surfaces shining. You beg off 30 minutes after today's classes (Nutmeg gives you a bit of a trouble but it's your birthday so you are free to go) and mount your new toy, leather seat creaking under you deliciously.

As you make a few rounds around the school grounds, wind screaming in your ears, tamed beast roaring after your every command, you miss all of those eyes in the windows watching you.

Especially those brown-green ones that follow your every move, sensually half-closed, long lashes fluttering as She plans her strike.

A few days later you volunteer to go explore the trail for a weekly class hike - it was raining a lot for the past few days and the teacher is not really sure if it's clear all the way. You're standing by the rear gates, putting your helmet on, when you hear a sharp click-click-click of someone's stilettos. Your heart nearly stops when you hear that fucking voice, elongated vowels and all.

- Hey new girl (you've been here for 4 months), miss whats-her-name sent me with you to check out that trail or something... Yay? - you come face to face with Holly, her usual cardigan askew, the hat that all Good Girls insist on wearing is nowhere to be seen, short PU skirt crinkling with her every move. You roll her eyes; she bits her lip and that simple detail goes straight to your clit.

- Um... I don't have a spare helmet, so... - you are somehow ready to give yours to her because fuck it, dying with her by your side may sound dramatic as fuck, but man, if you aren't willing to try everything that involves Holly. The brunette eyes your gear and scrunches her pretty nose (you want that nose to tease your clit as she licks into you, determined to be praised for her outstanding effort).

- Sorry girl, my hair doesn't really do hats (it's not a hat and she also wears one as a uniform daily) - she smiles, her unusually untampered with teeth making her face look like a predator and... Cute? You are definitely fucked.

When she sits behind you on a bike she makes a (not filthy at all) groan and wiggles on a leather seat a bit, firmly grasping your waist. You fire up the ignition, your beast comes to life with a deep rumble and you hear Holly inhailing sharply.

- Ooooh, that's fuuuuu-uuuck! - when you go full speed, chasing that rush of blood to the head you feel Holly's hands clench into you tighter, her big soft tits pushed right into your back (you kinda feel her stiff nipples). She scream-laughs, her plush thighs in those unacceptable boots squeezing you in her warm soft grip. It smells of her perfume, something cinnamon-musky, earthy and sexy as hell, and you feel like you're at your destination in half a second.

She dismounts, hands finally letting go (a pity) and looks around. You're at the clearing, trees and bushes in a bit of a distance, not a soul around you. You look at her, trying to see how she's feeling - her face is a lovely shade of pink, long lashes making shadows appear on her soft cheeks. She's so lovely you want to take a picture of her.

As you dismount too, to look around and stretch your legs a bit, Holly turns away from you, still blushing. You take your eyes off of her, lowering your gaze to the seat, ready to lift it up and get your water bottle. And the you see it.

On the exact same place your pretty companion was sat just now... There is a glistening wet patch. Your olfactory is suddenly full of cinnamon, musk and earth again. You feel weak, but fuck, your parents didn't raise a quitter.

You touch the warm wet leather, fingers immediately covered in familiar sticky substance.

- Holly? - you ask, going around your bike and closer go her; she turns with a barely audible "Hmmm?", hugging herself in the wind, hair looking positively fucked up. You were right - her nipples are standing against the red fabric, making you even more desperate and yet determined.

- You got, um... Here, let me... - your sticky finger grazes her slightly opened lips, pushing in and making Holly taste herself on your skin. The realization is immediate - she goes wide-eyed, whine-moans around your finger and suddenly you're being surrounded by her, those plump lips on yours, hands roaming all over your body.

When you go back, hours later, she looks radiant - her hair and makeup ruined, panties missing, but it's the happiest you've ever seen her. She kisses your cheek, those brown-green eyes warm and kind.

- Until next time, new girl.

You can't wait.

#jinkx monsoon #rpdr #rupaul's drag race #all stars 7 #rpdr all stars 7 #Holly brainrot

22 notes · View notes

more-than-a-princess · 5 months

Note

🐣What were you like as a kid? Allegedly? Has anything changed, and have people noticed?

In Depth and Personal Munday Meme - Accepting!

My favorite places as a child were quiet, full of books and/or dolls, and somewhere I could wear a pretty dress, eat sweets, and read to my dolls or stuffed animals. I'm an only child and have parents with busy careers, so I was left on my own (middle school and up) or with a sitter or nanny quite often. I had trouble making friends and relating to other kids as I was constantly surrounded by adults whom I could reason with: I'm pretty sure part of the reason why I was bullied so much was that I attempted to reason with other kids the way I did with adults (or tried to) and couldn't understand why they just teased me instead. I begged to be homeschooled but my parents said no and sent me to private school hell instead. I think the only time I really liked going to school for something more than my favorite classes was university.

That said, my favorite things in life were the bookstore and/or library, Scholastic Book Fair (I was that kid who ordered whatever I wanted off the book list and needed help carrying the bags to my parents' cars), the Disney Store (beeline for the stuffed animal tower and the TV playing film/song clips usually, if I wasn't distracted by dolls), and whenever I got new Barbies or American Girl dolls. I actually preferred AG more: the fact they came with books and girls from historical eras was the coolest thing to me! Those dolls and my cats at the time got to hear a lot of me trying to read aloud as much as I could.

I wasn't very athletic so sports teams were out of the question most of the time (I lifted weights instead starting in middle school in lieu of a school team due to how badly I was bullied. It just wasn't a great idea for my mental health to keep me around those kids longer than I needed to be), and I wasn't allowed video games until high school (right around when I'd sent my college applications) because my parents were convinced that if I played video games, I'd never get into a good university. This is a big reason why I never became much of a gamer! I didn't grow up with the hand-eye coordination practice with consoles and controllers many kids did. I also didn't get cable TV until the end of middle school: things like Nickelodeon and the Disney Channel were luxuries for me, ones I only got to indulge in at other family members' houses.

I think the funniest bit of it all is how I went from very much a dress-loving, pink-adorning, dress-wearing child to a teenager, constantly sullen, dressed in black/Hot Topic/early Torrid attire with the goth-iest high school senior photoshoot...and right back to a woman who adores dresses, classic colors, neutrals, and pastels, and just feels better about her day when pulling a dress and favorite pair of shoes/bag out of her closet, just to go to a cafe and shopping/a bookstore. My parents have definitely noticed this and are having the last laugh at middle/high school-era Rae, who would only wear wide leg JNCO style trousers with so many ripped holes at the bottom, bondage pants/skirts, anime/geek t-shirts, fancy dresses from The Pyramid Collection (I had a wicca phase) and the darkest red lipstick that wasn't black but still broke the school dress code so the administration made me wash it off each morning (despite me swatching it on my hand and showing them no, it wasn't black: black lipstick was banned, like jeans, miniskirts, tanktops, and anything featuring 'gang' logos or relating to Eminem or Nelly. Honestly, besides the jeans, good move school!)...is now a far more cheerful and content person, who has embraced color, dresses, bows, etc. once again.

tl;dr - my teenage years were awful, do not want to revisit no matter how much my high school keeps insisting I should show up for my 20-year reunion.

In a more nerdy sense, I'm realizing that in my late thirties with more disposable income, I can finally wear all the costumes I wanted to do as a teenage cosplayer but didn't have the funds to do so. I am doing or rewearing so many old school costumes in 2024, and upgrading some outfits I already love with higher-quality pieces.

#more-than-a-princess answered #more-than-a-princess musings #dcviated #(In Depth and Personal Munday Memes)#(Thank you for the ask Bear! I hope some of this is a nostalgia trip)#(Dear younger Gen Z mutuals especially under the age of 25: the clothing styles popular in your generation now?)#(I wore those in middle/high school. It is -frightening- to see it all come back.)

0 notes

hoodharlow · 2 years

Text

Drunken Questions

AN: We made it to part 2! This kind of a filler chapter for what’s in store in the shitshow that’s going to be chapter 3 <3 enjoy lol

Requested? No

Warnings: an intense make out scene (spoiler lol) alcohol, drunk!miriam, urban being lowkey mean to miriam

Word Count; 4.2k words

“So it’s like a party?” Miriam asked Jack.

They were talking over the phone, discussing his upcoming birthday. He's not hosting something big, just a kickback with some friends and his team. Jack didn't think Miriam was going to make it but she made it work. Yesterday afternoon she flew in from Paris. Miriam called him today while she was unpacking her luggage. Fashion month has ended and she is back in LA. And so was Jack for work.

He was in the studio with Lil Nas X and his team working on a song for Lil Nas’s upcoming album. When she called him, everyone decided to take a dinner break since they've been in the studio since the morning. Jack was nestled in the backseat of his car listening to her talk about her trip. He didn’t really understand what she was saying. He just enjoyed hearing her voice.

“But chill.” He answered her question. She had asked him what a kickback was because she'd never been to one.

“But chill.” she repeated to herself. Her airpods dinged that they were low on battery. “Hold on.” He heard her shuffle around her room. “You’re on speaker, don’t say anything stupid.”

“When have I said anything stupid?” Jack scoffed, feigning offense.

“Do you really want me to answer?” she snickered.

“You know what you’re uninvited to my birthday party.”

“I thought it was a kickback not a birthday party.”

“Now that you’re uninvited it’s going to be a full on party and you’re gonna miss out.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t know what to wear either way.”

“You could've worn that skirt you wore to Nobu. Your legs looked real good in that.” he said without even thinking twice.

“¿Miriam con quien hablas?” A voice was heard on the other line.

Jack cringed. Of course the one time he tried to get all flirty with her her mom had to be in the same room as her.

Miriam let out a nervous laugh. “With my friend,” she then said something in Spanish to her mom. He heard the door close on her side. “What did I say about saying stupid shit. Now my mom is gonna tell my dad and they're gonna assume that you’re only going to New York with me because we’re fucking.”

“And that's a bad thing because?”

“Because we're not fucking.”

“Not according to your parents.”

“I'm hanging up.” Miriam warned him in a playful tone.

“I’m kidding, don’t hang up please.” Jack pleaded.

“If you insist, I can spare a few more minutes.”

They kept talking for another half hour. Miriam got reinvited to Jack’s kickback. Then they went over the details of their trip to New York. Miriam was going to go to Tokyo for a few days, but because she didn’t have anyone to go with her, she wasn’t going to anymore.

Miriam usually went with her brother, but since he's in the middle of filming ‘La Familia Perfecta’ he couldn’t go with her. Her other option was her mom but she's in Europe promoting her upcoming movie. If they couldn’t go with her, Katalina usually went with her, but she was still in Europe because she had some campaigns and magazine covers to shoot. Her dad was also not an option though. Following his retirement, her dad started a very successful salsa and hot sauce company, one of their salsas has been used on The Hot Ones series, and he likes to oversee the company himself and only travels if it’s absolutely mandatory for him.

Jack would have gone with her but he only had a few days free before heading out to New York for Saturday Night Live, coincidentally Miriam’s mom was going to be the co-host the same, so he invited her to New York for a few days so the two of them could spend time together before he got busy with SNL.

Jack received a text from one of his managers. They needed him back in the studio. He frowned and replied that he’ll be there in a minute.

“Hey, I gotta go, but I’ll see you later, right?” Jack said, frowning.

“Yeah, just text me the address.” Miriam said before pausing to yawn. “Sorry, I still have jet lag.”

“Okay because I know I was not boring you. You were laughing not too long ago.”

“Bye Jack.” With how she said that, he knew that she was trying not to smile.

He grinned. “Bye Miriam.”

***

“Do you need condoms?” Joseph asked Miriam. Before she could tell him no, he pulled open the center console and handed her a handful. “I’m too young to be a tío.”

She put them back from where her brother pulled them out of. “I don’t need any.”

“Oh shit! You got your own?”

Miriam’s cheeks warned up. “I don’t have any because I’m not planning on having sex.”

“Uno nunca sabe.”

“I do know, and I’m telling you I’m not having sex.”

“If you end up pregnant, don’t come crying to me.”

“Thank you for the ride.” She said, ignoring his last comment.

She got out of the car and adjusted her dress. She was wearing a black dress from Dion Lee’s spring 2020 collection. It went down to her ankles, but had a slit down the thigh to make the dress less conservative. In the runway show, the model wore it with a garter-like thing under it paired with thigh high socks. Miriam didn’t like that so she wore it with her leather Versace platform boots because she liked to show some leg. What she did keep from the runway look was the leather vest/harness/corset thing that went around her stomach area.

“How are you getting home?” her brother asked her when she reached for the gift bag.

“Uber probably.”

“I get off at seven a.m. Text me if you want me to pick you up then.”

“Why would I stay so late?”

Joseph rolled his eyes at her comment. “Be good and don’t get pregnant.”

Miriam flipped him off and closed the door. Music played loudly as she went up the steps that led up to the house. She pressed the doorbell. She pulled her phone out after a few minutes of waiting, to text Jack that she was here when Drama, Jack’s label friend, opened the door.

“Hi Dee!” Miriam said, side-hugging Drama.

“Hey Miriam. How are your parents?” he asked her.

“They’re good. My dad told me to say hi for him before my brother dropped me off.” She looked behind Drama and gave Jack a small wave. “Hi.”

“Hey.” he smiled brightly.

“I’m gonna go do a lap.” Drama cleared his throat. He patted Miriam’s arm. “Enjoy yourself.”

“I got you a present.” Miriam said nervously once his manager was out of sight. She handed him a large matte black back with white tissue paper on top. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Is it not your birthday?”

“I mean yeah…”

“Then you get a birthday present.” She shrugged.

Jack knew better than to argue with her. She was stubborn and even if he tried to fight her on it, she wouldn't budge.

“Let’s go upstairs to my room, I wanna see what you got me.” He held out his hand for her to take.

“You’re not going to wait and open your other presents?” She asked him.

“Those can wait.”

Truth was that she was the only person, aside from Drama and Chris, his manager, that got him a present. But he had a feeling if he told her that, she’d get embarrassed. He took her hand and guided her through the party. They made their way up the steps. He heard a few hollers and whistles from his friends, making him blush. He gently nudged her up the stairs. He turned to his friends, flipping them off.

“Sorry about that.” he mumbled, pulling out his keys to unlock his room.

“It’s okay.” she waved him off.

He opened the door and let her in first. He closed the door behind them. He watched Miriam sit on his bed. She fluffed some pillows behind her and leaned back. One of her legs hung over the bed while the one with the exposed leg was bent almost like she was sitting criss-cross-applesauce. After seeing that Jack took off his shoes, she did the same, neatly lining up her boots against the nightstand.

He took a seat next to her, his thigh almost touching her exposed knee. He carefully opened the gift bag, pulling out the tissue part. He took a peek inside, immediately recognizing the orange box and blue ribbon. He closed the bag and looked over to her.

“Miriam, please tell me you did not get me Louis Vuittton.” he said flatly.

“Do you want me to lie to you?” She asked and leaned in, whispering. “Because I don’t like lying to my friends, Jack.”

“We're friends?” He asked her in a hopeful tone.

“Of course we are! You think I'm just buying random people some Louis Vuitton?” She patted the gift bag. “Open your present.”

Miriam sat closer to him, dangling her feet off the bed. Jack pulled open the orange box, revealing a dark blue bottle with gold etching and the bottom of the title was 'JH' also in gold etching. Under the bottle was a white monogrammed windbreaker with indigo watercolor detailing.

“I don’t know what to say,” he turned to Miriam, “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of things, especially when the gift was as nice as the one she got him. He was always the one who gave things to friends and family. He never expected anything in return, but it felt nice to get something.

“You're welcome.” she grinned. She nodded her head towards the windbreaker. “One thing though, you can’t wear that in public until like mid April because Virgil said that the collection won’t be available until then.”

“How did you get it then?”

“I have my connections.” she shrugged, making Jack snort.

They sat in a comfortable silence. Miriam leaned her head on Jack’s shoulder, listening to some hip hop song heard all the way from downstairs. They both turned to face one another and smiled. Jack’s eyes dropped down to her lips. Then they wandered back to her eyes.

Without thinking twice, Jack cupped her cheek and leaned in to kiss her. The first few were awkward as Miriam was taken back at the fact that he kissed her. But when she relaxed into it, she kissed him back with full force. She wasn’t sure how she ended up straddling him, but she didn't mind it. She also didn’t mind his hands on her ass and how grinded her against his crotch. Miriam threw her neck back, reveling in how good he felt against her. She mentally gave herself a pat on the back for wearing full lace panties. Jack nipped and sucked down her neck to find her sweet spot. He barely caught her strangled moan when he nipped the spot between her jaw and neck. He repeated his actions, earning a louder moan from her.

Jack rolled them over so that he was on top of her. They continued kissing. Their hands were everywhere. Miriam pushed up Jack’s shirt. He got the hint and sat on his knees, pulling off the shirt. He chucked it over his shoulder and got on top of her once more. He spread her legs so he’d fit more comfortably between her legs.

“The things you do to me, Miriam.” Jack murmured in her ear. He wrapped one of her legs over his waist, bringing her closer.

“Yo, Neelan and Drama are loo– shit!” The door slammed behind them. It was Jack’s friend.

“Fuck,” Miriam cursed,

She pushed Jack off her, mumbling a half-assed excuse. She grabbed her boots and slipped them on, not bothering to zip them up as she made her way downstairs. She went straight to the kitchen and poured herself some cheap tequila, downing the whole thing. She refilled her drink and finished it one gulp.

How could she be so stupid? She thought to herself. Miriam couldn’t believe she threw herself at him, especially after telling her older brother multiple times that she’s not planing on fucking Jack only for her to jump him the second he took her upstairs. He probably thought the worst of her, she would too if she was in his shoes. He most likely doesn’t want to see her face anymore.

She sighed and poured herself more tequila. She took in her surroundings, noticing that the kitchen was empty. She followed the sounds of people singing happy birthday out in the backyard, but she returned to the kitchen. She took a seat on one of the stools. She read over the bottles looking for another cheap bottle of alcohol. She settled with some vodka, fully knowing that she shouldn’t be mixing her alcohol, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.

“You’re quick.” A voice said behind her.

Miriam recognized the voice, it was Jack’s friend that walked in on them.

“What are you talking about?” She asked him, watching him light a blunt.

“Usually Jack waits for the ink to dry before doing whatever you guys were doing. You must have something that made him change his mind.” he said, before taking a hit. He scanned over Miriam’s body then met her eyes. “I don’t see what he sees in you, but I’m gonna guess that it has to do with your daddy’s bank account.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying? However I don’t appreciate how you’re talking down to me.” Miriam frowned. “I don’t even know you for you to be saying all that shit.”

“Look I’m saying that even you should know that you need to sign an NDA to be in the same room as Jack. I’m just warning you if you’re expecting more because you’re not getting anymore than that.”

“Is everything okay?” Jack asked, looking between Urban and Miriam.

“Yeah, he was just telling me you’re out of tangerine flavored White Claws.” Miriam said, not meeting Jack’s gaze. She looked at her phone. “I should get going. I only came to drop off your present.”

Urban mumbled something but masked it with a cough.

“You say something Urb?” Jack asked him in a challenging tone.

“Nah, I was just clearing my throat.” Urban took another hit of his blunt and walked away.

Miriam stared down at her phone as she texted Beto to come pick her up. She could feel Jack’s eyes on her. She just couldn’t look at him. She was embarrassed and the last thing she wanted to do was look him in the eye. Even his best friend assumed the worst of her, she couldn’t fathom what Jack thought of her too.

“Can we talk?” Jack asked her softly.

Miriam deleted the text she drafted and nodded. He took her hand and led her down the hall to a private hallway. He opened the door to a home studio. He closed the door and locked it while she sat on a leather couch.

Jack sat across from her on a sturdy wooden coffee table. He cleared his throat and wiped the sweat off his hands on his pants.

“There’s no easy way to say this,” he began. He cleared his throat once more. “I just wanted to apologize for what happened upstairs. That wasn’t my intention when I took you to my room.”

“Jack,”

“It was shitty of me. I didn’t ask you if you wanted me to kiss you and next thing I know I’m all over you. That was uncalled for and I shouldn’t have disrespected you like that, Miriam. So from the bottom of my heart I apologize. Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen, alright?”

“Sure.” Miriam mumbled.

“Okay, good. I’m gonna make a few rounds but I’ll be back. Don’t go okay?”

She gave him a nod. “Okay.”

***

By one in the morning, Jack had lost track of Miriam. The last place he saw her was when she was dancing and singing along to Bad Bunny with Lil Nas X. That was an hour ago. Now he had no idea where she was. He hoped that she didn’t get in an Uber like she said she would. She had been drinking a lot and knew that it wouldn’t be safe for her.

He went to his room to check if she was in there, but it was empty. Scratching the back of his neck, he pulled out his phone and called her. He hung up hearing her phone ring on his bed.

“Yo, your girl is asleep in the studio.” Druski popped his head into his room.

“Thanks man.” Jack patted his shoulder.

He made a pit stop at the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle for her before he went to the studio. He found Miriam curled up on the leather couch. She used one of his hoodies as a blanket and one of the blankets as a pillow. He closed the door and walked up to her. He gently shook her shoulder.

“Miriam, wake up,” he said softly.

After a few more shakes, she woke up. She sat up confused. Her curls all over and her makeup was a little smudged around the eyes. She surveyed the room then her eyes landed on Jack. Her eyes widened in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” She quickly said, slipping on her shoes and began folding his hoodie. “I was looking for a pen because your friend with Tarzan hair said I needed to sign a nada form if I wanted to be your friend. Then I sat down and I fell asleep.”

Miriam stumbled as she made way to the door, but Jack caught her. He sat her down on the couch and handed her the water bottle.

“It’s cold.” she grimaced, but she took a sip nonetheless. She passed him the water bottle back and laid back down on the couch. “Bedtime.”

“Hey, Miriam, wake up. We have to get you home.” Jack said, sitting her up.

“No, I’m gonna get drunk if my dad sees me in trouble.” tears brimmed around her eyes. “I can’t go home, Jack. And don’t say I can stay here, I already know I can’t stay here because your friend said I had to sign a nada form if I wanted to hang out with you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Miriam, you can’t go to a hotel.” Jack tried to reason with her.

“Your friend said that you’re only allowing me to be your friend because my dad’s rich but I still have to sign a nada form.” She explained, wiping her tears.

It took Jack a second to realize she meant NDA but she was just saying it instead of spelling it out. It made him feel bad because he did hand out NDAs like Jehova Witnesses handed out booklets at bus stations. He may only hvae been talking to Miriam for a few weeks but he trusted her and knew she wouldn't run off to the media to talk about him.

“I’m gonna get an Uber and go to a hotel…fuck where’s my phone.” she said, bringing him back from his thoughts.

“Then where am I supposed to go? I don’t have anywhere to go!” She broke into sobs.

Jack sighed and pulled her to his chest, letting her cry until she calmed down. “You can take my bed, yeah?” He told her, smoothing out her curls.

Miriam shook her head and hiccuped. “Your friend said–”

“Urban is just being Urban. Don’t pay attention to him.”

Jack pulled her up and they made their way upstairs. He picked out some sweats and a t-shirt for her change into. He went to the bathroom and walked out with a brand new toothbrush.

“The bathroom is the door next to the TV. I’ll be right back, okay?” He said handing her his clothes and the toothbrush.

“Thank you.” she mumbled.

Jack closed the door behind him and went to the kitchen. He grabbed another water for Miriam when Urban walked in the kitchen.

“Where’s money bags?” He asked Jack, lighting up another blunt.

“Why did you tell Miriam that she had to sign an NDA?” He asked, ignoring Urban’s question.

“Because that’s what you always do with girls you fuck?”

“Miriam and I aren’t going to hook up.”

“Well when I walked in on y’all, it looked like y’all were.” Urban took a hit. “I’m just looking out for you. It’s clear that she’s using you for clout, but you don’t see it because you’re far up her ass to see it.”

“When has she used me? The whole night she didn’t post or take any pictures. She had multiple opportunities and she didn’t post anything.” Jack said defensively. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We’re just friends and I don’t appreciate you meddling.”

“Whatever man.” Urban waved him off. He opened his mouth but was interrupted by a series of dings and buzzes. “Who’s texting you?”

Jack pulled out his phone and checked. “Miriam’s older sister?” he replied. He furrowed his eyebrows, switching the phone to the lockscreen to reveal a picture of Daisy, Miriam’s dog, and Miriam in what he assumes is a car.

“So you’re telling me you’re stringing along sisters?” his best friend laughed in disbelief. “Fuck man, even I know that shit’s gonna backfire on you.”

“I’m not stringing anyone along.” Jack said defensively. “It’s Miriam’s phone. I must have picked up the wrong one when I went to check on her.”

He left Urban in the kitchen without another word and went back to his room. He opened the door and found Miriam crying only wearing her baby blue lace bra and the sweats he gave her.

“What’s wrong?” He said, averting his eyes away from her.

“I can’t take off my bra. The back is missing.” She sniffled, showing him that her bra clasped in the front. “Can you help me?”

Jack cursed. In another circumstance in heartbeat he would help her take off her bra, but not tonight.

“I’m gonna see if Neelam is still here so she can help you.” He excused himself.

“No! She’s going to laugh at me.” she blubbered.

“Well I can't help you take off your bra, Miriam.” He snapped at her.

“Why?”

“Because you’re drunk!”

“Why are you yelling at me? I’m just asking you for help.”

Jack sighed. He had no idea what to do. On one hand he's just helping her out of her bra but on the other he was touching a drunk girl.

"I got it! Mira, Jack." Miriam exclaimed.

"What– Jesus!" He mumbled, turning around. "Please cover yourself."

"Why? You've never seen boobs before? Are you a virgin? Is that why you didn't want to have sex with me?" She rambled off.

He rolled his eyes at her for the nth time and went into his closet to pick out some pajamas to change into. He went to the bathroom and changed. He brushed his teeth and his night routine. By the time he got out of the bathroom, Miriam was fast asleep.

A buzzing came from Jack's pants. He dug in the pocket and pulled out Miriam's phone. The name 'JoBro 🤎 (no the actual Jonas Brothers)' lit up the the screen. Jack deduced it was Miriam's older brother so he answered.

"Hey, uh, this is Jack Harlow. Miriam's friend." He said in a quiet voice so he wouldn't wake the sleeping girl in his bed.

"Oh hey, is Miriam around?" Her brother asked.

"She's fast asleep. Earlier she got drunk so now she's sleeping it off. I offered to drive her home but she freaked out saying that she was going to get in trouble, so imma let her crash here."

Joseph laughed. "Yeah she got in trouble her sophomore year and our dad scolded her for that. It was more of a 'be safe' lecture rather than a 'you shouldn't be drinking you're fifteen' lecture. She didn't get punished or anything, but Miriam’s sensitive so she took it badly. Even more because she's our dad's favorite and she never did anything illegal. So now she only drinks one alcoholic per party– well not in this case."

Jack hummed in response.

"So Miriam is sleeping?" He asked him.

"Yeah, she's in my room. I'm gonna sleep on the couch we have in the studio."

"Okay. I'm just gonna text my dad that she ubered to set since it's closer than ubering home and that she fell asleep the second she got here so he doesn't freak out that she didn't come home."

"Sounds like a plan." Jack said.

"Thanks for taking care of her."

"It's Miriam, I'd do anything for her."

They bid each other goodbye and Jack hung up. He plugged in Miriam's phone so it could charge. He collected some things that he'll need in the morning and turned off the light.

"Where are you going?" Miriam asked him.

"I'm going downstairs." He said.

"Okay." She got up and wrapped the blanket around her. "Let's go."

"You're not going anywhere." Jack steered her back to bed.

He walked two steps when he felt Miriam's hand around his wrist. "Stay with me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"You're drunk."

"But we're just sleeping." She reasoned, confused by the circumstances. "Jack, why won't you sleep with me?"

"Just get some rest, Miriam." He sighed defeatedly. "We'll talk in the morning."

Jack taglist: @cherryxcreme @postyxmendes

#jack harlow #jack harlow smut #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fan fic #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow oneshot #jack harlow series

250 notes · View notes

jbreenr · 3 years

Text

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale × Reader

Summary: You wanted to meet Ransom's family, he wanted to make sure you'd never want it again.

Word count: 3k.

Warning: Poorly written smut (+18 only, please), public sex (prompt 11), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that, kids. be responsible), a bit of dirty talk, the Thrombeys being the Thrombeys. And I think that's it.

A/N: So, after finding out one of my stories was stolen an translated in Wattpad, I did not know if I should post this just yet but, what the hell? Let's do it. Anyway, this is for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817 's Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge so, happy belated birthday! Yaaay. 🥳 Hope you like this at least a little and that it's not as bad as my paranoid brain thinks it is. Also, I just love how the prompts fit perfectly together, don't you? As always, lack of vocabulary and grammatical mistakes abound. *apologizes in español*

Wheel results (just attaching evidence):

ᴹʸ ᵍⁱᶠ

Draining, tedious, exasperating. Those were some of the adjectives Ransom associated with Thrombey family reunions. He'd arrive late, have some sort of conversation with his grandfather and leave early to do whatever that took him away from that big house.

Today though, he had a reason to stay for more than half an hour.

If it was up to him, you two would have stayed at home, happy, relaxed, and most importantly, naked in his bed, having a more pleasant time than the one you were most likely about to have.

He tried to persuade you. Of course he did! But your insistence and puppy eyes made it impossible for him to say no to your request.

So, here you were, getting out of his car, cake in sweaty hands and an excited smile on your lips, an expression so different from Ransom's, who seemed to be ready to get back behind the wheel and drive straight to Canada.

He didn't knock; he simply opened the door and held it for you to enter. If the three floor house was imposing from the outside, you felt impressed by the inside. Extravagant sculptures, apparently expensive paintings and other kinds of pieces of art were scattered everywhere, telling you just how wealthy and eccentric Ransom's family were.

“That's Harlan Thrombey! ” You exclaimed as you stood in front of the portrait of your forever favorite author holding a knife and a book.

“So?” Ransom asked, unconcerned.

You turned to him open-mouthed, the cake almost slipping off your palms as you went to playfully slap him in the arm.

“How come you are related to Harlan Thrombey and you didn't tell me?” Your question was more of a shock than an accusation.

The carefree gesture he did with his shoulders only accentuated his next words. “I did not think you would be interested in knowing.”

“I wouldn’t be interested?” Incredulity, flowing out of your lips. “He’s the best thriller author of all time! He’s like today’s Edgar Allan Poe!”

To say that you didn't believe him was an understatement. He knew for a fact that you liked Harlan Thrombey's books, just taking a look at the bookshelf in your apartment was proof enough of that.

“We call him grandpa here.” Said a femenine voice. A brunette walked in your direction, her pretty features hardening as she looked at your boyfriend. “Don't we, Hugh?”

He seemed to be ready to say something but decided not to. Instead he inhaled and placed his hand on your back.

“This is Y/N, the only reason I’m not telling you what you need to hear right now.”

Her eyes rolled in irritation and then turned to you. “I’m Meg. Let's introduce you to the rest of the family, shall we?.” And she dragged you to the room where more people were gathered together, discussing something, not before sending a deadly glare at Ransom.

Given the distance between you and him, you didn't listen to the heavy sigh he let out before waking behind.

“Everyone!” Meg called, making everyone leave whatever they were doing to look at her –and you, in consequence. “Meet Y/N, Hugh's new friend.” She then proceeded to introduce every single member of the family, including the housekeeper and the nurse, except for the grandfather, who apparently had a moment of inspiration and left them momentarily to put his ideas on paper.

None of them left their seat to go and shake your hand except for Meg's energetic mom, who hugged you and expressed how much she loved your coat even though it was soooo last season.

Sitting on a couch next to Ransom, you half expected someone to ask you about how you two met or how long had you been dating or what was it that you did for a living. Nothing. As fast as their attention was on you, it fell from you to their previous discussion.

You now understood why Ransom jokingly suggested deep cleaning the house instead of attending that reunion.

What you weren't aware of, Ransom thought, was that all of them were behaving wonderfully compared to previous times.

You didn't know if you felt more disappointed or uncomfortable. Ransom had left your side to go to the studio for a second and you had barely had any interaction with his family. All of them, dipped in their own matters to even notice your presence.

Fran, the housekeeper, was kind enough to take the cake to the kitchen and offer you a glass of water, but after giving it to you, she disappeared along with Meg and the nurse.

“So,” All at once, the room went quiet as Ransom's uncle spoke. “Have you read any of dad's books, Y/N?” Only until you heard your name was that your head snapped up.

“Oh, uhm… yeah. I'm a big fan.” Taken by surprise, you simply answered.

“Really? Which one have you read?”

And to that question, you felt suddenly included in the conversation since you had knowledge of the topic.

“I'm like fifty pages from finishing 'The Needle Game' and intrigue is eating me alive.” As you heard the excitement in your voice, you tried to compose yourself and said “Though 'Nick Of Time' is my favorite.” You smiled at him, hoping that your answer was a good one.

The woman that was introduced to you as Ransom's mother nodded as she licked her lips. The light of the fireplace, reflecting on her glasses as she moved her head up and down.

“Have you read 'Ultimatum' or 'Drop In The Pocket', dear?” Her tone was curious, but the look on her face said differently.

You responded anyway. “They're not bad. I feel like the ending of 'Drop In The Pocket' was a little vague and out of line but it can always be interpreted as an open ending so…” The change in their expressions told you that you had to add something else to that answer. Maybe it was not time for literature humor yet. “But I enjoyed both.”

She hummed and took her drink, detaching from the talk that continued with courtesy questions until it morphed into a heated discussion between Ransom's father and uncle, who would repeatedly ask for your opinion to back up his own.

The discomfort you felt, dispelled to be replaced by the disturbance of being bombarded with dozens of questions at a time, each louder than the other until they changed to a completely different topic to which you were occasionally included as a neutral point of view.

“She knows what she's talking about!” Said Richard at some point when you confirmed one of his arguments. “Thank you, dear.”

Ransom came back from his obligatory argument with his grandfather to find you nowhere to be seen.

“She's using the bathroom.” Informed Jacob, who did not take his eyes off of his cellphone.

Thinking that you went there to hide, he started his way to your potential direction until an overheard observation from his mother stopped him halfway through.

“… Did you hear how she talked about dad's work? Oh, I assure you she won't make it to next week with Ransom.”

Her and Richard's backs were to him, both of them unaware that their son was listening to their share of opinions.

“And did you see her hands?” Joni joined the criticism contest. “She could use some moisturizer, I tell you.”

As usual, they ignored her attempt to fit in and kept going.

“I know it's contradictory to say this,” Richard paused, as to make his point clear. “But he could do better.”

Despite their whispering, Ransom heard every single word and was glad that you were not there to see what was about to happen…

Ransom's words stuck on his throat when he saw you making your way out of the bathroom, fixing the skirt of your dress, with such niceness and warmth directed to him as you smiled, oblivious to the fact that the people you were trying to get to like you weren't going to.

His parents were right. He could do better. He could determine to not see them ever again and it would be the best thing to happen to him… Besides you, obviously.

“What's wrong?” Your concern was evident, just as his annoyance was undeniable.

Cold hands caressed his cheeks and Ransom thought of going back to Joni and tell her to fuck off. Your touch was soft, comforting, and gave him the greatest idea he'd ever had.

“I want to show you something.” Was his answer. It was better if you were the one who decided to never step on that house for the rest of your lives. It didn't matter if it was out of embarrassment.

Taking your hand in his, he guided you up the stairs to the first landing. The creaking sound of the old structure, probably alerting everyone in the other room that you were going to the next floor.

“Are you okay?” The sweet giggle that you let out when he abruptly stopped, almost making him feel bad about what he was seconds away from doing.

“Better than ever.” And he stamped his lips to yours.

Taken aback, it took you a second to respond. Hands on each side of his face as his own explored your body. When his fingers lifted your dress to caress your ass cheeks was when you ended the kiss.

“What are you doing?” You asked in a breathless whisper. “Not that I'm complaining.”

You were cornered against the wall with Ransom towering in front of your smaller frame.

Trying to escape from whatever he had in mind was useless, you knew that much. Though, you were not sure if you really wanted to escape.

“What I've been wanting to do ever since you got a shower without me this morning.” His lips found your jaw and descended to your neck where he sucked to create a bruise. Your eyes closed to the sensation.

“Wait. No, wait.” His fingertip that had started rubbing your still clothed bud paused it's motions as his eyes focused back on your face. “We can't do it. Not here.”

Ransom's finger went back to work, bringing a soft moan that you tried to suppress. “Why not? No one's gonna come here.” His other hand moved up your thigh to lift it. “Even if they did, they wouldn't notice.”

With an expert swing of his wrist, he moved your panties aside, letting the cold air that wandered inside the house hit you before his skilled middle finger entered you while still managing to rub your clit in circles with his thumb.

Adrenaline ran through your veins, fuel activating every nerve in your body and shaking away fear from your brain, replacing it with lust and boldness.

“I'm blaming you if we get caught.” Your hips jolted forward wanting to feel more of his hand, the contradiction between your words and actions, making him smirk.

He added a second finger. Knuckles deep and his cold ring slowly warming against the inside of your thigh, he said, “I'll take responsibility, sweetheart.” Pumping his fingers in and out, he felt your slick running down the back of his hand to his wrist, wetting his overly expensive watch and the cuff of his cozy sweater .“But I can't assure you we won't get caught.”

His words, instead of working as a bucket of cold water as one would expect, increased your need to be touched by him, the yearning for him to take you right there and then.

“Damn it, Ransom.” One of your hands flew to his shoulder to hold onto him for dear life. “I'm close.”

“You're not cumming unless I'm inside you, pretty thing.” At what point did he unfasten his belt and unzipped his trousers, you had no idea. The friction of his digits was gone in a second but the feeling of his already leaking tip rubbing against your most sensitive parts was enough to make you forget about those trifles.

Your lips opened, ready to tell him to keep his voice down when he suddenly thrusted home, stretching you out so deliciously that you had to cover your mouth to muffle the moan that threatened to inform everyone of your current activities.

Ransom's breathing hitched. Being inside you was a dream come true, feeling your walls enveloping his cock so fucking good… it was like you were made for each other, and he was going to prove it, even if his family didn't really get to know.

His hips started moving. Back and forth, back and forth. Delicately at first, letting you adjust to his size but the second he felt you throbbing around him, he increased the pace. Little by little his pounds gained power and energy.

Your whimpers –stuck in your throat, leaving only soft snuffles that crashed against Ransom's cheek, soon became more rapid, erratic and as his fingers dug in the flesh of your thigh to keep you still while he accommodated to go even deeper you heard a creaking noise.

Your boyfriend's blue eyes met yours, his movements never faltering despite the alert given by the dark wooden floor under your feet.

There was a conflict in your head, and Ransom could tell. The way you tightened and the pleading look on your face told different stories, yet Ransom knew they had the same ending.

Shaking your head, your eyes asked him not to do it, but you knew Ransom well enough to be sure that not even begging could stop him.

“You love it, don't you?” His smile grew bigger as his change of position allowed him to hit your sweet spot on and on, ripping high pitched whines from you and obligating you to close your eyes. “The thought of getting caught. The image of someone seeing how good I make you feel.” The placement of his foot, making the landing creak repeatedly each time he pushed up accompanying every word. “Fuck, you're talking me so well. Such a dirty girl, uh.”

His big hand yanked the strap of your dress down, exposing your left boob. Your already hard nipple was soon attacked by Ransom's fingertips. He'd pinch and twist it slightly, just enough to make your back arch in search of his touch.

Pleasure was overflowing your senses, you could feel your heart thudding in your ears and your legs losing strength. Your hand left your mouth to grip at the back of Ransom's neck to keep you from falling.

The sight of your lower lip trapped between your teeth didn't please Ransom. In other circumstances, he would've let you stay that way, as quiet as possible so no one would walk on you. This time though, it was his intention to rip the most delicious sounds from your lips so you thought of the possibility of his family listening.

And so, he lent to kiss you, passion and desire transmitted through his breath. His tongue asked for a permission that was not really required, but as you let it in, Ransom took the opportunity to bite down your lip.

With your lips forcefully parted and Ransom's restless hand traveling back to your bundle, you had no other option than to moan with each quick circle his digits drew.

A series of laughs and undistinguished words were heard from a distance. Both Ransom and you turned to see what they were about, stopping in your tracks with him still buried deep inside your needy cunt.

“Guess dinner's ready.” Unbothered about the information he just gave, he hid his face in the crook of your neck and resumed his movements.

A shaky oh, fuck fell from your lips as you felt the familiar knot in your stomach forming. Your head flew back, hitting the wall with a soft thud.

“Careful. We don't want to be obvious, do we?” You knew you were about to explode, and by the way your walls were clenching and your trembling body tried to separate from him, Ransom knew as well. “Let go, sweetheart.” A roar erupted from him as he felt you tightening around his length. “Cum for me.”

With a last, powerful thrust of his hips, you let out a silent scream. The coil snapped, making you see a kaleidoscope of colors behind your eyelids and listen to a loud ring in your ears.

Ransom followed right after, cursing as he finished inside of you, coating you with every last drop and making sure everything would stay there.

He slid out, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness as he zipped his trousers and took a step back to let you fix your appearance.

You managed to accommodate your dress just in time for Ransom's family to walk out of the room they were in to see you. Your agitated breathing and blushed cheeks, getting everyone's attention.

“Are you okay, dear?” Ransom's dad asked.

“She's fine.” Your boyfriend answered for you. “She's feeling a little sick. I better take her home.” He took you by the hand and helped you down the stairs to the door, which you thanked. Had he not done it, you would have tripped taking the first step.

“But she hasn't met grandpa yet.” Meg noted, furrowing her brows.

“It'll be next time.” And with that, Ransom took you out of the house and in the passenger seat of his car without giving anyone the chance to say goodbye.

When you were at a considerable distance, you sighed, letting out the air you didn't know you were holding.

“Just so you know, there won't be a next time.” You informed him, against your want to meet his grandfather.

“Why not?” He asked with a chuckle, already knowing the answer.

“Cause embarrassment won't let me come back in the near future.”

Behind an eye roll and a tap on your thigh, Ransom hid the triumphant grimace his perfectly carried out plan gave him.

694 notes · View notes

rudystopit · 3 years

Text

Looking for Someone

[aizawa x f!reader]

summary: aizawa is a PI looking a missing person. he notices a young women looking around the places the missing person was last seen. he starts following her.

warnings: nsfw, eating out, brat/tamer, unprotected sex, and overstimulation.

wc: 5k

He sat inside his car. He would never the noticed the nasty smell of rotting food and his own body order. Old coffee cups, fast food wrapping and Chinese take out littered his passenger seat. He sat deep into the seat with a camera to his face.

He took pictures of a 19 year old girl, walking down the street. See that sounds weird but Aizawa Shouta is the best PI in the lower boroughs. His greasy hair is always tied up and his scuff leaves unshaved until he found it annoyingly long. He never seemed to smile. He always working on some case and buried himself his work.

This case was a missing college junior. Her black hair and deep brown eyes are plastered all over the city. The host parents contacted him after the police said it was likely she was dead. he never liked the police, that’s why he never became one after high school.

He clicked a few more photos of the girl before exiting his car to follow her. Her hair bounced as she walked down the busy street. She had been visiting the last places the missing girl was at. A small cafe, an old bodega, a drug store, and a bookstore. She had been down here five times in the last three weeks. She ordered the same green tea and walked to the other places. Aizawa figured out her name is y/n l/n. she’s a student at the local college. Art major. She had some pretty good pieces in the local art show last year.

He followed her into the cafe. She ordered her tea and walked to the other end of the cafe. She pulls out her phone and scans the cafe. Her deep e/c set on his. She smiled and went back to her phone.

“Black coffee,” his deep, raspy voice rang out. His eye contact never leaving the young woman’s figure. He soaked in every inch of soft small body. Her eyes darted over the screen.

“She’s pretty, right?” The young kid on the other side of the counter said. This snapped Aizawa out of his daze. “She’s been coming here more often. I hope she’s single,” the kid laughs, looking at the young woman. “$3.50”

He gave the kid a five and walked over to the other side. Her tea was done and she thanked the worker and walked out the cafe. His coffee was done a few seconds later. He didn’t want to lose her so he swiftly walked out as she quickly turns around and runs square into his chest. Her hair smelt like vanilla and it was softer than what he imagined. She backs up and apologizes profusely. She asked to buy him a new drink and grabbed napkins to clean off the tea and coffee.

“It’s fine, I need to shower anyways,” he jokes. She looks at him not laughing. after awhile of silence, she checked her watch.

“Shit, I’m late, I’m so sorry again,” and with that she was off.

Aiwaza climbed back in his nasty car and drive. She doesn’t know anything. It’s just a coincidence. He went to a small diner on the outskirts of the city.It was an old ma and pop diner with the old red paint and faded sign saying “jersey’s.” The ring above the door rang to announce the new arrivals. He sat in the old booth by the front windows. A woman in a yellow dress uniform walks over.

“Good morning, Shouta,” the young woman’s voice rang. He smiled and looked at her. “The usual?”

“Good morning Anne, yes, Ricky in the back?” He asked.

“Sure is. we were just joking that we were gonna put a ‘Shouta Special’ on the menu,” she laughed, scribbling down his name. Ricky knew what that meant. Black coffee, eggs, hash and hot sauce.

“Ha, no one wants what I eat,” he laughed as Anne walked into the back. Aizawa pulls out a notebook and a case file. He flips open his notes to scribble off Y/n’s name.

The pencil hovered over the beautiful name. Something about her perfect hair and shining eyes that put a weird feeling in his chest. She feels familiar to him yet also new. He had felt this before but never this intense.

There are never coincidences in this line of work.

He looked over his papers and shoved the food into his mouth. Anne sat down in the other booth. She liked watching him and today was slow and the other waitress said she needs the tips.

“So Shouta, tell me about this one,” she said.

“Missing person,” he mumbled scanning over the papers. His face stayed in a scowl and his eyes were dull until he thought he found a clue.

“Sometimes it helps thinking out loud,” Anne said, pulling the papers out of his face.

“Saito Yui, she’s a college student. Straight A’s. Pre-med. She’s top of her class. Barely parties. No boyfriend. But she misses Saturday brunch with her family. Then misses a hang-out with her friend, then classes on Monday. Police say she left. There’s no evidence that she was taken. No enemies. No stalkers and she never got on any one’s bad side,” he says. “There’s this girl though. She’s been in all the spots that Yui was before she went missing,”

“Do you think she knows something?” Anne asked, leaning in.

He pulls out his camera. He clicks through the photos and turned it to her. She took the camera in her hands. she looked at it with focus. Like she was trying to read her.

“I hope she’s innocent,” Anne finally said, handing the camera back. Aiwaza looked at her puzzlingly. “She pretty and has a lot to live for.” Anne always knew what to say, even if it wasn’t correct. She slides out of the booth. “See you tomorrow Shouta,” she waves and disappears into the back.

He looked back at his notes. The only connection between Yui and y/n was that they had a class together on Thursdays. Intro to sociology. He decided he would go and sit outside the class and wait for her to come out.

He watched the college kids walk around him. A lot of them didn’t notice him and the ones that did shot him a dirty look. The wide doors open and a young woman comes walking out out in a tennis skirt and a pull over with the college name printed on the chest. Aiwaza watched as she walked away. Her h/c bounced with each determined step. he leans off the wall and makes his way to her.

“miss l/n.” she wipes around and stares him down. her eyes held such intensity, it took aiwaza back. “i have some questions for you.” he says.

“aren’t you the guy from the cafe? are you following me?” she beginning to walk away from him. he reaches out and grabs her soft wrist.

“please it’s about yui saito,” his grip tightens as she pulls away.

“let go creep,” she spat. “i barely know the exchange student. she lived in my dorm, that’s all i know,” and she turn away.

aizawa sat on a bench and pull his head in his hands. “god i know this job is hard but i know she knows something.” he mumbled to himself. he got up and walked to his car. the young y/n was leaning against it on her phone. he walks up to her.

she looks up at him. he unlocks the car and climbs in hoping she was gonna move. she opens the passager side door. he looks at her with a questioning look.

“you’re right i know more but i wasn’t gonna tell you in the middle of my college campus,” she says with her attitude. he moves all the trash to the back seat and she jumps in. “your car reeks,” she says rolling down the window and pinching her nose.

“shut up brat.” he pulls out of the parking lot and goes to jersey’s.

“do you want to know what i know?” he glared at her. “then be nice,” the whole drive y/n was staring out the window. she watches the old victorian buildings turned small business fade into the american suburbs to a ratty diner in the middle of nowhere.

“jersey’s? never heard of it” she says sliding out of his car. she stretches her arms and heads to the door. aiwaza glares at her as she walks in and talks with anne. she shows her to his usual booth and pulls aiwaza aside.

“she’s way pretty in person,” she laughs. her tone drops to a serious one quickly, “reminds me of someone,” aiwaza knew exactly who she was talking about.

about 10 years back, he was working a case and meet a spunky accountant looking for something fun to do. she somehow became a target for some under organization and sadly she didn’t make it. but aiwaza had ready fallen in love with her. how her brown hair flowed in the wind as she always rolled down his windows. or how she always insisted that if he wasn’t going to dress professionally that she was. and she stuck to it. always wearing pencil skirts or dress slacks. aiwaza missed her but the woman sitting in front of him definitely had her attitude and curiosity on life.

he stay there and watched y/n look threw the menu. she mumbled to herself and pointed at some names. she twitches her nose and scrunches it up as read the descriptions. Anne comes over and takes her order which was just a plate of fries.

“are you sure?” anne asks. y/n just nodded. “black coffee i’m guessing?” she looks over at aiwaza.

“yeah,” he lets out. anne rushes away. “what do yo know,”

“well i was going through her stuff and i saw a necklace from this weird jewelry store downtown and it’s 100% a cult. i think they took Yui,” aiwaza sighed and leaned back.

“i know and they didn’t. i talked to them and they said they remember her buying the necklace but she didn’t join their pray list.” he rubs his eyes and looks at the woman.

her eyes looking over every inch of him. he felt his cheeks heat up a little. he pulls his hands on the table as she about the grab them anne comes with her food and his coffee.

“her host family said she didn’t seem like the type of girl to just leave without telling anybody,” he said bring the cup to his mouth.

“do you shower?” she asks in such a cheery tone. aiwaza chokes on his coffee and coughs. “maybe that’s why your not married,” she takes a fry into her mouth. “because you stink.” he hears anne laughing behind him.

“i shower and i’m not married because i don’t have time to meet anyone,” he glared at her.

“well the waitress seems to know you really well. you should ask her out,” aizawa’s cheeks gets red.

“shut up brat,” he puts down some cash and starts to get up.

“i’m sorry, please let me help you,” she asks.

“no,” he makes his way to the door.

“please! i promise i can help!” she follows him.

“no, do you need a ride back or can you walk?” he asks before getting in his car.

“yes i need ride. and i’m sorry for asking if you shower and saying you stink. please i want to help you. i’m really smart. i can help you,” she begs.

“fine,” he says driving back to the school. y/n talked the whole way about things she noticed about yui saito. like one time at a party she didn’t even drink or how she always showered super early in the morning.

“what’s your name?” she asked before getting out.

“aizawa,” he answers, staring at the students watching a young woman get out of his car. his cheeks flushed at the thought of what they were thinking.

“aizawa,” the way she says his name. silky smooth and he wished he could hear it again. “aizawa!” she yelled. he snapped to look at her.

“what brat?” she held her phone out. he took it and quickly punched in his number. He hands back the phone. She quickly sends a little hi.

“I’m guess you already know my name, but I’m y/n,” she smiles and walks away.

Aizawa drives home and flops onto his couch. He stares at the ceiling and thinks about today’s weird events. he thought about her h/c and how her eyes sparkled with curiosity. she is a smart girl. she beautiful in every sense of the word.

he didn’t even realize his hand slide down his pants. he was hard. he let his hand drift up and down the outline of his member. he thought about y/n’s voice and how she said his name. he thought about her spunky personality. his hand slips into his boxers. He closes his eyes and thinks about her small hands and pink lips. his hand moves across his hard cock. he inhales as he picks up the pace. he thinks about how soft her lips would feel against his. he thinks about if she was virgin and how tight she would be. his hand quickens. light moans escape his lips. he thinks about how she would look on her knees. he imagines her sucking him off. he clenched his jaw as his cum rolls down his knuckles.

he gets up and washed off his hands. his phone buzzes.

he rolls his eyes and opens the message.

he rolls his eyes and tosses the phone onto the table. he liked the little banters. he liked how she’s willing to speak her mind. he turns on the tv and flicks through the channels. NCIS. sure yeah not. he goes and makes himself a small dinner and sits at the table looking over the papers for the case.

‘yui didn’t seem like the girl to just leave without telling anyone,’ the host parents said. maybe she did tell someone or at least write a note. y/n said she went into her room. he wonders if she found something in there besides the necklace.

aizawa didn’t go to bed till early in the morning. so waking up and going to deal with the ever so cheery y/n was going to be a fun treat...

he threw on a tattered black t shirt and some jeans. his jet black hair pulled into a messy ponytail. the bags under his eyes could have held a weekend vacation worth of clothes. he got into the nasty car and drove to the cafe.

he saw her standing outside on her phone. her thumbs texting away. he was always so amazed at how fast teens can type. he got out and walked over to the distracted y/n.

“let’s go in,” he says in his deep raspy voice. it makes y/n jump slightly. his voice sends a shiver to the butterflies in her stomach. she follows in behind him. he orders his coffee and waits for y/n to order. he looks over his shoulder at her. his dull eyes looking into her bright ones.

“oh umm a chai tea,” she said walking closer to him. her shoulder brushes up against his. he looks down at her. her eyes dart around the cafe. she soaks in the area and walks to the pick counter.

“what did you find?” he asked while they wait for y/n’s tea.

“oh, yui used to write poems in her free time. one of them talks about a heart broken girl dropping everything and moving to colorado and starting new. she mets a wonderful man and they feel like they’re living the dream until one day he gets violent.” the guy calls out her name and she goes to get the tea. she drops her sleeve for her cup. she bends to get it, completely showing off the light blue panties. aizawa coughs and turns away. “sorry,” she says and sits down, “why is your face red?”

“nothing,” he shakes his head. “how is that a clue,” he watched as she brought the hot cup to her lips. she slowly sipped on it so she wouldn’t get burned.

“do you look at my underwear?” she laughs. “i knew you were an old creep,” his face drops into a scowl.

“shut up brat,” he said through gritted teeth.

“it’s fine, i don’t mind,” she said, scrolling through her phone, “here. i think she wrote that poem about him,” she shows him a picture of a 23 year from her school. he has his arm around yui’s hip. “that’s henry. they were seeing each other at the beginning of the semester, but one day yui comes in with a huge bruise on her arm and people asked he what is was about and she just answered with some vague thing like ‘oh i fell’ which is totally bullshit,” she takes another sip of her tea. “wanna try?”

“no i’m good,” aizawa answers. “do you think henry hurt her and she left to get away from him?” he watched as she typed something out on her phone.

“hm? yeah totally. i mean if i was getting pushed around by some frat boy i would totally disappear too,” she looks him square in the eyes. a little hue goes to aizawa’s face. “are you sure you don’t want to try it? you look like you only drink bitter sludge and gross greasy food for every meal,” she leans across the table.

“i’m serious. i’m fine with my bitter sludge,” he laughs. she smiles.

“i like it when you laugh. it’s calming,” she says. the phrase comes as a surprise to aizawa.

“aww you got a crush on an old man like me,” he says getting up. “come on kiddo.”

she gets up and follows. “maybe i do,” she whisper to herself.

“stop mumbling,” he says waiting at the door. they walk across the street to his car. “did the poem say anymore?” he asks unlock the car.

“i don’t know. i only got through a few when i texted you,” she said getting into the passenger side. she didn’t have her smile. he looks over at her. she stared out the window. her eyes didn’t have the spark of curiosity.

“what? are you mad at the joke? i’m sorry,” he said, started the car. she picks up her phone and quickly typed out a message and it sends with a bing. she rested her arm on the window and leaned her head against it. “y/n. seriously what happened? you were all jokes and laughing seconds ago.”

“it’s nothing, aiwaza.” with that he stopped asking. they drove in silence to his apartment. she followed him up the old stairs and he unlocks the green door. “cleaner than the car,” she laughs and flops herself on his couch.

“i guess make yourself at home...” he throws the keys on the table. he opens his laptop and looks up yui’s name. her twitter came up and he read through her poems.

‘even when he would yell

i would think about those mountains

how i could easily get lost in their trees.

how even if i never made it home,

the mountains would be there.

then i’m reminded

even the mountains can hurt me.’

“not the best one she’s written,” y/n says standing behind him. he’s snapped out of daze. she was leaning over his chair. her hair tickling his neck. her breath prickling his cheek. she smelt of vanilla.

“i wanna see you do better,” he sneers.

“hmm, your car smells like,” she brought her finger to her chin. “trash and you’re pretty much ash, and i think you have a rush, but your snash comments don’t bother me.” she laughs.

“haha real funny brat,” he rolls his eyes and looks about at the computer. y/n still laughing at her little poem. he reads through some more poems.

“did you ever check the ct tv camera or whatever?” she asks sitting on the couch again. “isn’t that like the first thing to do?”

“i did,”

“and?” she looks at him. he’s not looking at her. he was reading the poems and looking through pictures. y/n stands up and walks to him. she gets close to his ear and whisper “and?” his large hand covers her face and pushes her away.

“there was nothing,” he said as she scowls are her. he gives her a side glance. she was mad at him. “what?”

“you’re rude,” she huffs.

“what you wanted me to kiss you?” he laughs and looks back at the screen.

“maybe,” she mumbles.

“stop mumbling,” he says, not breaking away from the computer. “if you’re gonna say something, make sure i can hear it or else what’s the point in saying it.”

she moves to him. she yells “I SAID MAYBE YOU RUDE OLD MAN” he stops and his face goes pale. he swallows a hard lump. his heart is beating in his ears. y/n’s face gets all red. “um, sorry i’ll leave,” she starts to the door. tears fills her eyes.

aizawa gets up to stop her. he grabs her wrist. “don’t joke like that,” he pulls her close to him. “but please stay,” he wipes her tears.

“it’s not a joke,” she whispers. she looks up at him. he’s eyes soften. he kisses her forehead. she leans up to kiss him on the kiss but he moves away.

“i’m old enough to be your dad,” he goes back to the computer. she sits on the couch and goes on her phone.

“you cant be that old,” she says, breaking the silence. he doesn’t answer. he doesn’t want to ruin something as precious as her. “45?” he doesn’t answer. “50?” she gets up and sits across from him. leaning on her hands. she narrow her eyes. “23?” he looks up at her with a ‘really?’ look. “i know, i know, guess give me an answer,” she whined.

“no,” he scrolled along.

“40?” she says. still no answer. “100?” no answer. “fine i’ll look you up.” he looks at her. “aizawa... shit... what’s your first name?” she looks around for another with his name on it. she sees a pile of mail on the counter. she quickly lunges toward it. he gets up to stop her. she grabs a piece before he could stop her.

“y/n!” he yells.

“what no brat this time,” she sneers. she looks at the piece. he tries to snatch it way. she leans against the fridge. he quickly grabs it and raises it above his head with the rest of his mail. “give it back!” she yells and jumps for it.

“it’s my mail!” he laughs. she grabs his collar and stands on her tip toes. she reaches for it. he places his other hand on the fridge to keep his balance. “stop y/n! you won’t get it!”

“i’ll stop when you tell me how old you are!!” she says trying to climb him.

“stop being a brat. i’m not going to tell you how old i am,” he smiles as he watches her try to get the mail.

“make me,” she stops and looks him in the eye.

“you’re playing a dangerous game, y/n.” he puts the mail on top of the cabinets and walks away. she instantly start climbing on the counter. he grabs her hips and pulls her done. he bear hugs her. “STOP IT!”

“NEVER!” she bites him. he lets go, “just tell me how old you are.”

“jesus, fine, 41,” he sighs and sits on the couch. she sits next to him.

“that wasn’t so hard now was it,” she laughs.

“you’re an absolute brat,” she leans her head on his shoulder. he puts his head on top of hers. her hand plays with his hand. tracing each vein and knuckle. she laces her fingered with his. he doesn’t pull away. all he does is whisper “please y/n, we can’t-“ she cuts him off by kisses his cheek.

“we’re two consenting adults. why can’t we,” she whines. she shifts to sit in his lap. she laces both hands together. he tries to control his breathing. he looks over every inch of her body. she just looks down at him. she leans down and kisses him. she puts his hands on her hips. her arms snake themselves around his neck. he breaks away.

“are you sure?” he asks.

“yes,” she breathes out. she leans back down and kisses him. his hands travels up her shirt and he undoes her bra. she pulls away and strips off the shirt and bra. he starts kissing down her neck, leaving red and purple marks. one of his hands moves to grope the soft flesh of her boobs. y/n arcs her back against his hand.

aizawa shifts and flips her onto her back. he gives her a quick peck then he leaves trails ok quick little kisses down to the waist band of her skirt.he wraps his fingers around the fabric and looks up at her. y/n nods.

“use your words bunny,” he says kissing her stomach.

“yes, please,” she says, tangling her fingers into his hair. aizawa pulls off her skirt. he smiles at the light lacy panties. he slowly slides them down. he kisses the bottom of her stomach. y/n’s hand yanks the collar of his shirt. he quickly takes it off. she sits up and creases every inch of his body. she soaks in all the little scars and muscles. he grabs her wrist and kisses the top of her hand. he leaves a trail of kisses down her arm and to her mouth.

y/n puts her hand back on his chest and pushed him back. she straddles him. she leans down and gives him light kisses everywhere while her hand slowly drifts to his pants. she rubs the forming bulge. he sucks on his teeth. she smiles down at him.

“damn you too good for me,” he whispers.

“damn right old man,” she laughs. he rolls his eyes and sits up. he pulls her closer. her clit grazing over his jean covered dick. she moans into his ear.

“fuck,” he whispers. her hands drive in between her legs and undoes his jeans. he chuckles. “so impatience,”

“shut up,” she sneers. he picks her up and brings her to his bed. he tosses her down. he pulls down his pants. “hmm boxer briefs guy,”

“i’ll leave..” he says. she laughs and pulls him onto her. they kiss and his hand makes it’s way to her heat. he spreads her folds. she moans into the kiss. he smiles. he drags his middle fingers from the bottom to her clit. y/n rolls her hips to his touch. he rubs small circles into the bud. she smirks under him.

“aizawa please,” she moans.

“shouta,” he whispers. his finger hovers over her entrance.

“hmm?” she looks up at him. he slides his finger in. she moans and grips onto the bed. he kept his hand still, feeling her clench around him.

“my first name,” he whispers. she thinks for a second and opens her mouth to say his name, but he starts moving his fingers causing her to moan it. she hits his arm.

“you purposely did that,” she pouted.

“so what if i did,” he leans down. y/n can feel his breath on her ear. “i want to hear it again.” her face gets all flushed. he moves his finger at a slowly pace. after awhile of little mewls and light breathing moans, aizawa slips his ring finger in.

“shouta~” she moans out.

“that’s it, good girl,” he picks up his pace. she continues to moan. aizawa kisses her collarbone and attaches himself to her boobs. his tongue expertly swirls around her hardened buds. her hands tangled in his hair. she feels the knot in her stomach come undone as she comes on his fingers. he pulls them out and looks at them. she looks at him.

“don’t,” she says. he’s eyes flicker at her. “please don’t,” he smiles and sticks his two fingers in his mouth. he closes his eyes and moans.

“mmm sound good,” he teases. she throws a pillow at him.

“you suck,” she whines. he lays down on top of her and kisses her. she wraps her arms around him. he slides his hands down and brings her legs up. she wraps them around his waist. he sides his hand down his underwear and brings his harder dick out. he teases her entrance before pushing the tip in. she moans into the kiss.

“fuck you’re so tight,” he hissed into her ear.

“what? ever fucked a college student?” she laughs. until he slams his hips into her. she cried out in pain. “god, your a lot bigger than you seem, shouta,” she moans his name which makes him want to fuck her into the bed.

he pulls out them slams back in. “you better take it with out complaints. you’re the one who’s been asking for it,” he says threw gritted teeth. she does this breathing moan that sends him over the edge and into an absolute feral mindset. he holds himself up on his elbows and just pounds y/n into the bed. her moans turn into screams of pleasure as her legs squeeze around his waist.

the knot in her stomach reappears and she clenched around his dick. “fuck y/n, beg to come you fucking slut,” he groans out.

“shouta please.” he trusts even deeper. “fuck. god please shouta let me come on your huge dick,” she whimpers out, feeling the knot in her stomach snap.

“omg yes, y/n,” he moans as her pussy clenched around him. her beautiful moans escape her lips as her face shows nothing but euphoria. her pussy sucks him in, clenching around him, trying to milk him. he lets out a grunt as he paints her velvety walls white. he weakly thrust a few more times before collapsing next to her. he pants as she rolls over and puts her head on his chest. his large hand pets her hair as she falls asleep in his arms.

He whispers to himself, “you’re the one I’ve been looking for,”

#bnha aizawa #aizawa x reader #shoto aizawa #mha aizawa #aizawa smut #bnha #bnha fanfic #bnha fanfiction #bnha smut #mha #mha fanfic #mha smut #fanfiction #my hero fanfic #fanfic #my hero academia #my hero academy smut #my hero academy fanfiction

239 notes · View notes

young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 8

Cult girl and Hannibal go through an exhaustive list of potential adoptive couples.

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warning: sexual harassment, christianity, discussion of pregnancy and family planning, adoption, murder and cannibalism

Step two: find an adoptive family.

Some would say your list of expectations for potential adoptive parents was too extensive. Impossible for any human to reach. But it was really just the bare minimum.

Regardless of if they were two men, two women, one of each, or a few people, the parents had to be trustworthy. It wasn't easy to earn Hannibal's trust, but he could recognize those who had the capacity to right away. It was a little instinct you had dubbed 'friend or food'.

On paper, the apostolic pastor and his wife of 19 years seemed like the perfect candidates. The adoption agency tried to push them on you, as they had a great track record with adopting from them prior. Three boys, all of which were honors students.

Hannibal insisted on a formal introduction, during which you could conduct a proper, though surreptitious, interview. It was an invitation to dinner.

He invited the couple into his office, where a pot of tea and an interrogation was waiting for them. Then there was you. Barely-pregnant little [F/N], feeling entirely safe so long as your fiancé was beside you.

"You're doing the right thing, y'know." The woman, who introduced herself as Mrs. Landon, said upon meeting you.

"How do you mean?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"All god's life is precious." She said, placing a hand on your not-even-remotely-showing-yet stomach. "You're walking in obedience to the lord by giving this child a shot at life."

Strike one: bringing up religion unprompted. Strike two: touching me without asking first.

You wanted to swat her hand away, but remembered that patience was a virtue. She and her husband took a seat across from you.

"Y'know," The man began, his mannerisms eerily similar to those of his wife. "I don't usually begin with the god talk, but I think a higher power had to have been involved in the conception of this- well, our child. I'd like to think the good lord brought us together today."

Strike three: already believes he is entitled to my child. You're outta here.

"Don't flatter the adoption agency like that, Jacob." Hannibal chuckled, placing his teacup on the side table.

"I'm serious, Dr. Lecter." Jacob interjected. "Faith and I really do believe that god put us on this earth to prepare his smallest soldiers for the spiritual war."

You shot Hannibal a side glance that said 'can we please just eat them now?'.

The answer was no. Hannibal liked to play with his food.

"And your adult children have all moved out?" He asked.

"That's right." Jacob nodded. "We have plenty of room in our five-bedroom house for the new little slugger to run around in."

"And if it's a girl!" The wife interrupted. "We have enough closet space for all the denim maxi-skirts money could buy."

Strike four: arbitrarily genders the behavior of a nine-week-old embryo.

The man then returned the teacup to the table, not bothering to use the saucer and instead leaving a nasty ring of condensation on the polished mahogany.

"Okay." Hannibal huffed, resignedly rising from his seat. He pulled two hypodermic needles from his back pocket and carefully, subtly stuck them onto the couples' necks. They couldn't even scream.

The tacos al pastor that followed (after a few days of marinating, of course) were exquisite.

The next week brought a new couple to your doorstep. Frank and Angela, they were named. Their claim to fame was that their oldest son played football for one of those big southern party schools. Either Auburn or Alabama. There was hardly a difference.

You sat for what felt like hours listening to the man speak in unintelligible football babble, waiting for him to take a breath. Surprisingly, it was the mom who got him to finally shut up.

"Frank, please." She said with more frustration than this one situation even remotely warranted. Either she had enough intuition to know she was being tested, or she’d spent the last decade putting up with this. Possibly both. "You're boring our hosts to death."

"What? No way! She loves it!" Frank replied, then turned to you. Not to Hannibal, just you. “Aren’t you having a great time, sweetheart?”

Strike one: takes advantage of the female socialization to be passive and polite, allowing himself to take up the most space.

You shook your head. “I hate football.”

His wife looked quite pleased with herself.

“Angie, I just wanted her to know what good breeding her son is going to have.” He said, without a lick of irony or self-awareness. He eyed you up and down and licked his lips. “And it is mutual, I see.”

The room went quiet as everyone tried to determine whether he was serious or if it was just a fucked-up joke. The longer the silence lingered, the more you realized he wasn’t kidding. Angela looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“I don’t know what the agency told you, Mr. Wyatt,” Hannibal said, trying not to grit his teeth. “She isn’t a surrogate. She’s already pregnant.”

Frank’s jaw hung dumbly open. “I thought you were looking for a sperm donor? I just-”

“No.” You cut him off, raising your hand and covering your face. “I don’t want to know what you thought.”

“Well, I would!” Angela interjected, righteous fury eclipsing what should have been crippling embarrassment. “What exactly did you think this was, Francis?”

“The file said that he was over fifty, so I just assumed--” Frank rationalized, his voice far too loud for the room. “Y’know? That she wanted a baby that wouldn’t come out all funny-looking?”

“You’re disgusting.” You blurted out.

“Francis Howard Wyatt,” Angela scolded as if she were talking to her son. “You are forty-eight and the only increasing part of your body is your blood pressure. Why on Earth would any woman choose you over her smart, handsome doctor fiancé?”

This made Hannibal sit up a little straighter. He wanted Francis on the butcher’s block yesterday, but he momentarily considered letting Angela live.

“They’re not married?” Frank whispered, or whatever the loud-aggressive-toxic-masculinity version of whispering was. He paused, as the dead hamster on the wheel powering his brain crept back to life. “That actually makes sense.”

Angela loudly smacked her hand against her face. “Dr. Lecter, Ms. [L/N], I am so sorry.”

“It’s quite alright, Mrs. Wyatt.” Hannibal stood up, readying the next batch of needles. “It just makes what I’m about to do easier.”

It took quite a bit of restraint to not make their deaths hurt, but he made up for it when it came time to carve. He had fun running his fittingly small penis through a meat grinder. Not with any intent to cook it, though. Just because.

Hannibal wanted to make Francis Wyatt into the least dignified meal imaginable. You quickly recalled going to a friend’s barbeque in Georgia and encountering a horrendously Southern delicacy known as Frito Pie. You proposed the idea to Hannibal, who, after reviling in abject horror at the notion of eating something out of a bag, agreed that it was the most fitting end. He could spare a few pounds of flesh to grind up and make into chili.

The third week brought yet another couple. They seemed smart enough to realize your invitation wasn't the friendly olive branch the others had interpreted it as. Their healthy skepticism was refreshing, to say the least. Then, you met them: Max and Archie.

"You'll have to forgive my partner's paranoia." Max said upon entering the house. He tugged playfully at Archie's hand. "We watched Get Out recently, so an invitation to the suburbs sounded some alarms in his sleep-deprived brain."

"I love that movie." You chimed in. "It reminds me of my family."

"Oh no." Archie's eyes widened in only half-pretend fear. He shot an I-told-you-so look in his partner's direction.

"But my favorite horror flick has to be Midsommar." You added. "My friends and I saw a midnight screening and we didn't sleep at all that night."

"But have you seen Hereditary?" Archie posited.

"Of course." You shrugged. "Aster is totally genius."

You made more than just polite conversation with the couple. Max, despite his young age, was a skilled data analyst and day trader. He attributed his success to the hard work of his immigrant parents. Archie was an environmental lawyer and land activist. He was also a bit of a thrill junkie, indulging in everything from scary movies to bungee jumping.

It didn't take long to realize that you wouldn't be eating them. They were far too pleasant of company to eat.

"So when is this baby planning to make its entrance?" Archie asked, gesturing to you. "You don’t look all that pregnant to me."

You put your hand over your slightly-protruding stomach. "Late August, I believe. If everything goes according to plan."

"You're not far along at all, aren’t you?" Max observed. "That gives us plenty of time to prove ourselves to you."

"Believe me." You put up your hand. "You're doing a great job so far."

“If you like horror stories, we might have to indulge you in the last two encounters we had.” Hannibal commented, leaning back comfortably in his chair. That was a good sign. “No blood was spilled, thank god. Would have ruined my carpets. But believe me when I tell you it came very close.”

The couple laughed along. Archie leaned in like he was about to tell a life-shattering secret. “You wouldn’t believe the hoops we had to jump through to even have the chance to adopt. And I don’t want to say that it’s because we’re an interracial gay couple, but...”

“Agencies aren’t exactly colorblind.” You finished, via his prompting.

“She gets it.” Archie pointed to you. “See, Maxie? She agrees with me.”

Max pushed his glasses up his nose. “I never said I disagreed.”

You spent the rest of the afternoon waiting for the conversation to take a sharp left turn off a cliff, but it didn’t happen. They were wonderful company; polite, intelligent and articulate. Exactly the kind of people you’d want to see taking care of your child.

You’d have to look for you next meal elsewhere.

#hannibal #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #cult girl #cult girl 2 #cult girl doctorate

96 notes · View notes

melanielocke · 3 years

Text

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter one

Lucie, Cordelia, Thomas and Alastair are spending the summer in a small town at the edge of a forest. Lucie hopes she can finally tell Cordelia how she really feels, while Thomas hopes to get to know Alastair a bit better. Alastair and Cordelia are glad to get some time away from their family and their parents separating. But something is not right in the forest. People are disappearing, and a creature warns Thomas that he is in danger, that a debt to a powerful being has not yet been repaid and they will need to combine all their abilities to stop what’s coming, and save Thomas.

CW: past toxic relationship, past abuse, mentions of alcoholism, PTSD It won't be super gory, but can be creepy

Tag list: @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @nott-the-best

Tagging @julywood because Thomas is one of the main characters

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32505550/chapters/80620474

‘Are you finished packing, Lulu?’

Lucie heard her father’s voice from behind the door of her bedroom, but she didn’t respond immediately. She was working on her story, and needed to finish this chapter so she could email it to Cordelia. She needed to concentrate, and that required blocking out all sounds coming from the outside world. The chapter had taken a bit longer than anticipated and the ghost of one of Cordelia’s dead boyfriends had somehow made its way into the chapter. Fictional Cordelia had had many boyfriends and all had died tragic deaths to make way for the next. She currently didn’t have a boyfriend and Lucie wasn’t planning another one yet. The real Cordelia had only dated her brother James for a while a year ago. Lucie didn’t think she wanted real Cordelia to have a boyfriend either.

The door opened and her father peeked inside. ‘You haven’t started packing at all, have you?’

‘I need to finish my chapter for Cordelia,’ Lucie insisted. ‘She will be stuck in a very long car ride with only Alastair for company and she needs something to occupy herself with.’

Lucie would be staying the summer with her parents in her grandmother’s manor, whereas her grandmother would be traveling to southern Italy with a couple of friends. While Lucie was usually excited about spending her summer there, she had feared it would be lonely considering her brother James wouldn’t be coming this year. He’d graduated school and he and his best friend Matthew were going to travel across the continent by themselves. She’d feared she’d be alone all summer, but then Thomas, her closest friend besides Cordelia, had convinced his parents to travel to the same town this summer, renting a cottage nearby her grandmother’s house.

‘Alright, I’ll pack for you,’ her father said. ‘But if you find your swimsuit or your sparrow plush toy is missing, then I will not be held responsible.’

‘Jack is coming,’ Lucie insisted, referring to her sparrow plush toy she’d once named after Jack Sparrow, and she put her laptop away to put her plush toy in her bag.

After a short moment of contemplation she put her new pink bikini and an older black and red striped one piece in there too. There was a lake close to grandmother’s manor and Lucie expected she’d go swimming regularly. She returned to her laptop, and tried to think of a good ending for the chapter. She didn’t like to end everything in a cliffhanger, but the story needed to remain intriguing.

‘No clothes? Underwear?’ her father asked.

Lucie considered just bringing everything suitable for the summer but realized they didn’t have that much space in the car. So instead she opened her closet, picked out some tops, skirts, dresses and jumpsuits and put them into her bag. She would probably regret leaving something behind later on but there was no time. Just to be sure, she went over the closet again and added a couple more dresses. She couldn’t leave her new yellow wrap dress behind, she’d sent Cordelia a picture of her wearing it a couple of weeks ago after she’d bought it and Cordelia had commented that she looked gorgeous. Lucie suspected it was just Cordelia being nice but the comment had still made her heart run wild.

She added enough underwear to last her several weeks and then went back to adding clothes at random until the bags were full.

‘Done,’ she announced, and she went back to her laptop, finishing her chapter.

Adding in a ghost was a difficult choice, but Lucie had decided fictional ghosts behaved similarly to real ghosts. Lucie had never seen a ghost of a dead boyfriend though. She hadn’t seen Jesse Blackthorn even once since he’d died four years ago.

When the chapter was finished, she emailed it to Cordelia, hoping she would receive it before she and her brother left home. Cordelia had almost not been allowed to come stay with her family this summer, her father tended to be strict and wanted to keep Cordelia at home. There had been some trouble lately at the Carstairs home though, and Cordelia’s mother had decided it would be good for her to go spend time with Lucie. Cordelia’s brother Alastair had decided to come with her, although Lucie wasn’t sure why. Either way, Lucie had decided she and Cordelia were going to have the greatest summer ever.

***

Thomas hadn’t been this excited about going on a vacation with his parents in a while. The small town where they’d be staying sounded boring, and certainly wasn’t the location most boys his age wanted to spend the summer, but then Thomas wasn’t interested in drinking and partying all night and would much rather explore forests and go swimming in lakes with Lucie Herondale. That wasn’t the main reason he was excited though. A week ago, Lucie had confirmed her close friend Cordelia Carstairs would be staying the summer with her, and a couple of days later Lucie had informed him Cordelia’s brother Alastair would be coming as well.

Thomas had gone to school with Alastair for a year, Alastair a year ahead of him, and at the time Alastair had been rather awful, especially to Thomas’ friends James and Matthew. To be fair, Alastair’s jokes about Matthew behaving like his mother were funny. Matthew did behave like his mother, always coming to collect him when he’d spent too much time around Alastair. Why he’d fallen in love with Alastair anyway, he wasn’t sure. He’d been intrigued by the mystery, he guessed, Alastair’s sad eyes and vicious tongue.

But after that year, Alastair had changed schools, and had gone to school with Lucie and Cordelia instead and he’d heard much from Lucie about him. Alastair had defended Lucie from bullies had kept to himself and created this image of someone who was untouchable, no longer a bully, but he would destroy you if you even considered hurting his sister or her friend Lucie. Thomas was once more intrigued. While James and Matthew were still angry, Thomas had decided he must have changed and he was thankful Alastair had protected Lucie, heaven knew that girl knew how to get herself into trouble.

Thomas checked his phone for the millionth time. He was done packing, but his parents were not. Lucie hadn’t send any new texts and Thomas suspected she needed to pack or finish the latest chapter of her novel before her parents left. She’d listed some ideas that might help him spend more time alone with Alastair, although Thomas was not yet sure if he wanted that. He wasn’t out to anyone but Lucie yet, and although he intended to tell his parents, he wasn’t yet sure how. He wasn’t yet sure he was ready for a relationship, and although he liked Alastair, he was also a bit intimidated by him.

Barbara had sent a message, and Thomas opened it. It was a picture of her and Oliver in front of the Eiffel Tower. Barbara and her boyfriend Oliver had gone to Paris to celebrate their two year anniversary and to celebrate Barbara graduating as a nurse.

Thomas texted a response and put his phone in his bag and walked outside, checking to see if his parents needed any help. A couple of gnomes were running around the garden. Thomas didn’t mind them, they took good care of the garden, and were far from dangerous, but they could get up to mischief. He’d learned that whenever cookies, forks or socks went missing, it was usually the garden gnomes. They lived in forests sometimes, but also liked to build their homes in human gardens. Of course, most humans had no idea they were there, but Thomas could see all sorts of strange creatures. Most were harmless, so Thomas never minded much. He didn’t seek out the supernatural, but he didn’t mind its presence.

Both his mother and Barbara had the same gift, and although Eugenia didn’t she had learnt to see the gnomes. Thomas had found out everyone could learn to see the supernatural if they knew what to look for and knew it was out there. Most people didn’t believe so they didn’t see, but Eugenia had grown up with a mother and siblings who saw everything whether they wanted to or not. She had always known what was out there.

Eugenia and her friend Kamala would be spending the summer in India this year, they’d saved up for months for their big trip. Thomas suspected they might be more than just friends but so far Eugenia had not confirmed this.

‘We’re almost done,’ his mother promised, handing him a plate of cookies. ‘Give some to the gnomes, will you? To show them our thanks for taking care of the garden.’

Thomas went into the backyard where even more gnomes had gathered. It was difficult to imagine most people could look at this scene and see nothing out of the ordinary, when several gnomes were running around, holding something shiny in their hands.

‘The car keys,’ Thomas groaned out loud and he put the plate of cookies on the ground.

‘You can have these, but please give me the keys back,’ he said.

The gnomes said something, but Thomas didn’t understand their language, and then attacked the plate of cookies, dropping the car keys in the process. Thomas picked them up before the gnomes realized anything, and picked up the plate as soon as it was empty. Gnomes could be monsters when it came to cookies and they didn’t have table manners, they just attacked any food they saw. Thomas couldn’t blame them.

Thomas quickly washed the plate and put it back with the others before joining his parents again, who were finally finished with everything.

‘Feeding the gnomes again, Sophie?’ his father asked. ‘Are you sure that many cookies are healthy for them?’

His mother shrugged. ‘They’re gnomes, Gideon. Who knows what’s healthy for them?’

His father couldn’t argue with that logic. Thomas wondered if there would be gnomes too at the cottage where they would be staying, or if other creatures would show themselves. Thomas had learned that if there was a myth or any kind of story depicting it, it probably existed somewhere, but most such beings were very rare and so far Thomas had mostly encountered gnomes.

Checking the car one last time to see if they had everything, Thomas got into the passenger seat next to his mother who would be driving, his father behind. Thomas had gotten too tall to fit in the backseat of this car and sitting there for a long drive would be unnecessarily painful. Besides, Thomas was better at reading maps than his father, and if they got lost they would depend on him to find the way.

As they drove, Thomas couldn’t help but think of Alastair Carstairs. Why had he decided to join the Herondales? Thomas didn’t think he was particularly close to Lucie, although he knew Will Herondale had a weak spot for anything that carried the name Carstairs. He wasn’t surprised the Herondales had invited him along. Could he be thinking of Thomas? And would Lucie’s plans to get them to spend time together help, or only make everything worse?

***

‘I cannot get this bag to close,’ Cordelia complained.

‘Perhaps that’s because there’s a limit to how much fits in there,’ Alastair said without looking up.

He was finished packing, of course. Cordelia, on the other hand, had decided she had not yet enough clothes packed and with some suggestions from her mother and aunt Risa had tried to add more.

‘Don’t you have another bag for me?’ Cordelia asked, annoyed.

She loved Alastair, but sharing a room with him was a bit too much and they’d gotten on each other’s nerves. They were currently staying with their aunt Risa, their mother too, but Risa’s apartment was a bit small for all of them. It was a temporary situation and Cordelia hoped that after the summer she and Alastair didn’t have to share a room anymore. At least in the Herondale manor, there were plenty of rooms and Cordelia intended to get one as far away from her brother as possible. Alastair tended to be neat, and his half of the room was always perfectly in order, whereas Cordelia was a bit messier, and both were irritated with the other.

‘You can check if any of my bags have some space left. Or you can leave the bag opened and put it in the car like this and hope it doesn’t end with clothes littered everywhere.’

Cordelia went to the building’s parking garage and to the car and put the bag there, half open, making sure nothing fell out. No one but the two of them would be fitting in there with how much Alastair had packed. Cordelia couldn’t imagine he’d need all that, but she knew better than to attempt to convince her brother he could leave something behind.

Back inside, she saw Alastair sitting on his bed, vaguely staring into the distance as if he was daydreaming.

‘Alastair, stop doing that,’ Cordelia said.

Calling his name usually brought him out even when his senses were closed off from the world around him. Alastair had an ability that Cordelia best described as him being Harry Potter’s pensieve. He could revisit his own memories, and if they allowed it, other people’s memories as well, as well as bring people with him into memories. Alastair tended to stay out of other people’s memories, but could get lost in his own. Outside their family, no one knew about it and Alastair preferred to keep it that way.

The Carstairs family had always been aware of the supernatural, of course. Once their father Elias had carried the magic sword cortana and fought evil creatures with it. That had been a long time ago though, and Cordelia owned cortana now, but she had never used it to fight anything beyond straw men in the backyard. She didn’t have any abilities though, not beyond her connection the sword, nothing like Alastair’s odd memory. Neither of them understood why he was that way.

‘Were you revisiting your break up again?’ Cordelia asked then.

She knew he’d been revisiting that memory over and over lately, although she didn’t understand why. It couldn’t possibly make him feel better, could it? Of course, Alastair wasn’t exactly known for making the healthiest choices when it came to coping.

‘Charles has been texting me,’ Alastair said, his face blank. ‘I made sure that when I broke up with him, I was very clear about not wanting him to contact me. I wanted to see if there was anything I said that might have made my meaning unclear, any invitation for him to keep texting me.’

‘I don’t think Charles has ever listened to a thing you said,’ Cordelia said. ‘That’s his problem, not yours. Have you blocked his number yet?’

Alastair didn’t say anything.

‘You can block him,’ Cordelia insisted. ‘And you should. It’s creepy how he keeps texting you.’

As far as Cordelia was concerned, Charles had been creepy long before that, ever since he began a relationship with her brother despite Alastair only being sixteen at the time when Charles was six years older than him. Charles must have known how wrong and creepy that was, even if Alastair hadn’t.

Alastair hadn’t told anyone about his relationship, not ready to come out yet, which must have been convenient to Charles. Cordelia had only found out four months ago when she’d started to worry about Alastair, how he’d seemed more nervous and prickly than usual, how he’d lost weight from not eating. Reluctantly, Alastair had told her about his relationship, and Cordelia had been horrified to learn just how much abuse he’d accepted, believing that was how relationships worked. After a month of Cordelia trying to convince him of how toxic Charles was, Alastair had broken up with him. She’d been very protective of him ever since finding out, and was glad he’d decided to come stay with the Herondales with her this summer. Some time away from everything would be good for him, right?

Then Cordelia had found out Alastair had been keeping even more secrets from her, this one surrounding their father. Cordelia had always loved her father and looked up to him, a former warrior who’d slain the supernatural horror that had taken his brother and sister in law, a former hero who’d fallen ill in later life. A while ago their cousin Jem, who was a psychiatrist, had visited, despite their father trying to keep him away from their family, and he’d noticed Alastair was not doing well after an anger outburst. Cordelia and her mother had always assumed Alastair’s moodiness and anger outbursts were just him being a difficult teenager, although at eighteen he was getting a bit old for that. Jem, familiar with mental disorders, had recognized symptoms of something more.

He had recommended Alastair see a therapist. After some pressure from both her and Jem, Alastair had gone and he’d been diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder. Cordelia had found out father was not sick, but addicted to alcohol instead. Alastair had spent years protecting her from the effects, attempting to take care of father while he was drunk so she have the illusion of a normal childhood. Now that she knew, she guessed she understood a bit better why Alastair had thought what Charles had offered was love.

‘I guess I can block him,’ Alastair said.

‘I’m serious,’ Cordelia insisted. ‘You have to stop revisiting bad memories, you’ll only get hurt again. I don’t like seeing you hurt.’

Alastair took his phone out his pocket, presumably blocked Charles’ number, and put it back.

‘Are you ready to go, Layla?’ he asked.

When Cordelia was young, she’d loved the story of Layla and Majnun her mother used to tell her, and Alastair and her mother had taken to calling her Layla.

‘Ready when you are,’ Cordelia said. ‘Lucie just emailed me the latest chapter of the beautiful Cordelia. I’ll have plenty to do on the way.’

#Alastair Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Cordelia Carstairs #Lucie Herondale #Lucelia #Thomastair #tlh #the last hours #fic #fanfiction #paranormal au

40 notes · View notes

alj4890 · 3 years

Text

All Through the Night

A Choices: The Royal Romance Dark AU

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg @twinkleallnight @amandablink @neotericthemis @mm2305 @sfb123 @iufilms @tessa-liam @busywoman

Masterlist

Catch up here with Prologue and Part 1

Part 2

Fydelia...

"Madeleine dear, have you seen the lost book of Aurelia?" Regina called out when she noticed the countess passing by. "There were some notes in there that I think can be useful for Maxwell."

"No mam." Madeleine stepped into their library.

The walls were covered with a variety of the history of the five kingdoms and the mysterious sixth. Madeleine had spent years studying every single myth in the hopes of finding hints of cures and such for the ailments of her people. Her usually sharp gaze softened at the faded leather spines. They had been her source of comfort long before Regina arrived.

When her parents were alive they rarely spared their daughter a single glance. As long as she was quiet, well behaved, and properly attired; they expected little else from her. She had been their disappointment. Her father had hoped for a son while her mother hoped to never have a child.

She did not feel grief when they died. In fact, she had rarely felt any emotion until Regina took over her care. Through her cousin's encouragement and treating her with kindness, Madeleine began to understand happiness and contentment.

She also began to long for love.

The stories she read about the great love Queen Kenna shared with Dominic had made her begin to daydream about her finding someone of her own. She rather liked the idea that the creatures of the Dark Kingdom fell in love instantly. It certainly took all the guess work out of he loves me, he loves me not.

Though Regina was a kind and nurturing soul, Madeleine wanted something more.

And she had found it one afternoon with the banished prince of the Dark Kingdom.

**************

A year ago, the capital of Cordonia...

Madeleine ran down the sidewalk as a torrential downpour began. Being lost in thought, she had wandered away from the market place without paying attention. Townhomes with small parks and cottages with flower gardens dotted the quiet neighborhood.

"Oh!" Madeleine slid down, landing not only upon her left ankle, but also in a puddle.

She closed her eyes at the painful throbbing. Tears began to intermingled with the rain falling upon her face. She tried to standup but ended right back in the puddle.

For the life of her, she couldn't think of a single spell that she could use to help herself. It was part curse and actually a blessing to others that a witch could rarely use magic to improve their own circumstances. Other than being able to take potions to improve their physical health, most spells could only be used for someone else.

If she had asked Regina to come with her for a visit to the capital, then she could have healed Madeleine easily. She probably knew a spell offhand to immediately dry her clothes. But then again, Regina was the most powerful out of their coven.

She attempted to stand once more, only for a cry of frustration mixed with agony to slip out.

She could hear footsteps rushing towards her from behind.

She turned her head and saw a man. Her lips parted at how handsome he was. His drenched clothing revealed what was a definite muscular body. His blonde hair had darkened from the rain. But his eyes...they were the most intense blue she had ever seen.

"Are you badly hurt?" He asked.

She nodded. "It's my ankle. Either a bolt of lightening struck when I fell or I definitely heard a definite pop."

Without another word, he scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed no more than a feather.

He kicked open the wrought iron gate and ran with her into his townhome.

"There's a light switch behind you." He waited for her to find it then continued on into his living room. "Here." He set her down on the couch. I'll try to find you something dry to put on and then we'll have a look at that ankle."

Her lips parted then closed as he dashed upstairs. She took advantage of her solitude to study what was clearly the home of a bachelor. Her eyes touched on the masculine décor of oversized leather furniture and no pictures on the walls. There no trinkets of any sort nor any type of color to add to the brandy colored leather and beige walls.

She turned her attention back to her ankle and winced when she tried to rotate her foot.

"That will teach you not to do that again."

Madeleine jumped at the sound of his voice tinged with amusement.

He handed her a towel then knelt beside her. Using another towel, he dried her foot and leg after removing her shoe.

"Thank you, um..." She bit down on her bottom lip when his fingers gently pressed around the swollen area.

"Leo." He looked up at her. "And who might you be?"

"Madeleine." She sucked in a painful gasp when he lifted her foot.

"Madeleine," he shook his head, "I believe it is just a bad sprain."

She slumped back in relief at that news. "I think so too."

He took off his shirt off and pulled a dry one on.

Her parted lips at the sight brought a grin to his face.

"If we're going to get you an x-ray just to make sure nothing is broken, then you'll have to stay in your dress." His eyes roamed over her petite figure. "I don't have anything that will work for you out in public."

"Yes, of course." She lowered her eyes. "Thank you for your assistance. I'm certain I would still be sitting in the puddle if you hadn't come by."

"I saw you slip down from my bedroom window." He scooped her up once more and carried her out to his garage. "Don't worry Lady Madeleine, we'll have you fixed up in no time."

Her head jerked up. "How do you know I'm a noble?"

He paused then shrugged. "With your beauty and the way you speak, it seemed likely that you were one." He set her in the passenger seat of his car. "Then again," he winked at her, "perhaps I was hoping to be your knight in shining armor."

Her pale skin flared with color from his flirting.

Leo chuckled at the sight then patted her hand.

After taking her to a nearby emergency care clinic, he then drove her back to her hotel.

He carried her and her crutches to her room despite her arguments that she could manage now that she had something to lean on.

"You shouldn't trouble yourself, Mr.--"

"Leo." He insisted. "And it is no trouble at all, I assure you." He set her down on a chair. "So, what brings you to the capital?"

"Nothing in particular." She lowered her eyes. "I had a few council meetings to attend and then I decided to stay over for a few days."

Leo nodded. "Wanted to get away?"

"Yes." Madeleine twisted the hem of her skirt. "I shouldn't feel this way. My life is filled with responsibilities that I actually enjoy handling." She lowered her eyes. "But sometimes..."

"It isn't enough." He smiled at her. "I've been there."

"You have?"

"Of course." He stretched his legs out and took a deep breath. "Though, I think the worst thing that can happen to someone is to have those very responsibilities that they thrive on taken away."

He bent down when he saw her struggle to prop her foot up on a small table. Before she could utter the words that he needn't feel like he had to keep helping her, he had slid it over closer.

"Thank you." She smiled shyly at him. "If you don't mind my prying, what responsibilities do you have?"

His easy smile dimmed. "Ah, none."

Her eyes widened. "But you seem to understand --"

"Like I said," he got up and went to stand at her window. "Nothing is worse than being denied what you are made for."

"What were you made for?" She prodded.

He glanced at her from over his shoulder with a smirk. "Me? To be king."

Her eyes widened with realization. The infamous handsome looks. The chivalry. The recognition of her nobility.

"You're the Dark King's son." She whispered in disbelief.

He turned to fully face her. "And you're The Guardian's ward, the very one she gave up being queen for."

Madeleine swallowed nervously. "I--I'm sorry you lost your kingdom." She gripped her hands together in her lap. "I heard about your father naming Liam as heir."

A brief flash of anger appeared in his blue eyes. "Yes, it seems that my embarrassment of not being a vampire extends to all areas of Cordonia."

"No!" She lifted her hand toward him as if to try and comfort him. "It isn't anything you could control." Her brow furrowed. "I'm certain you would have been an excellent king."

He returned to his chair. "Do you?"

She nodded. "I've always had a gift of, well...of sensing a person's true nature."

"Sounds impressive." Leo reached for her hand. "And what do you sense with me?"

Madeleine bit down on her bottom lip. "I can't quite find the words, but I sense great things in your future." A blush formed on her cheeks as she locked eyes with him. "And that I am somehow tied to your destiny."

He lifted her hand to his lips. "I think you're right."

***************

It had to have been fate for their paths to cross. The young man had been wandering Europe in search for a place he could belong.

"Once I saw you," Leo told her late one night, "I knew I had finally found the right place."

She had lost her heart to him. His stories of not being loved by his father matched her own, especially in being considered a great disappointment. She had not been born a boy and he had not been born a vampire.

There was little either could do about it.

Leo admitted that he had gone in search of a vampire in Sweden to try and turn him. Something though went wrong when he was given the Vampire's kiss. He did not change. He had remained in his mortal form even after completing the procedure by drinking from the Chalice.

There was no increase of strength. There was no vulnerability to the sun. There was nothing new or different about him.

Only further frustration and heartache.

Madeleine kept their encounters to herself. It wasn't that she didn't trust Regina. She simply didn't trust what she might say to Constantine.

The King continued to invite Regina to visit. He understood her reasons for refusing his marriage proposal but he refused to never see her again. Since she was in love with him too, she went each time he called for her.

Madeleine didn't approve of their relationship, yet she also kept this thought to herself. She had seen as a child the effect speaking one's mind had on others and she never wanted anyone to know her plans or opinions.

But then she began to sneak away to see Leo.

He had been the first person she had actually opened up to. His charm and confidence seemed to spill over and infect her with an openness she never knew she possessed.

Leo was interested in everything about her, especially her knowledge of spells and potions. For nearly a year, he marveled at her intelligence and encouraged her to dig further to find ways to push magic to its very limit.

Then one night, he shared a dream he had recently had.

"You and I were the King and Queen of the Dark Kingdom." His blue eyes flashed with emotion as he gazed off into the distance. "The people were overjoyed to have the true heir back within the fold."

"We were married?" She asked.

"We were." He squeezed her tight, drawing a startled gasp from her lips. "Everything was how it was meant to be for me. I had claimed the black crown for my own."

"What about your father and Liam?"

He turned toward her. Images from his dream of their ashes floating about his feet brought a slight smile to his lips.

"They weren't there."

"Did you feel in the dream that they approved?"

"Of course." He replied. "I have no doubt they finally saw my true strength."

"You would be an excellent ruler, my love." She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "No one has as big a heart like you."

With her head pressed to his chest, he softly agreed. "Yes, I believe I would be just the ruler this country needs."

As the months passed, he fed her little by little tidbits of stories he claimed he had heard. The creatures of the Dark Kingdom were miserable. They were being ill treated by their once beloved monarch.

"I can't stand the thought of any of them suffering." He paced back and forth before her.

"Of course you can't." She replied. "I wish there was something we could do."

His steps faltered. Turning toward her, his sharp eyes filled with tears.

"Do you truly wish you could help them, Maddie?"

"I do." She reached for his hands. "It seems so wrong to be given these magical powers and not use them in some way to help your people."

He smiled warmly at her. She had stopped referring to the people of the Dark Kingdom as monsters. It had taken a long time to get her to do so, but he knew it would all be well worth it in the end.

Leo sat down before her. "If anyone can find a way for us to take our rightful place, it is you," he pressed a kiss to her hands, "my love."

Madeleine blushed at his faith in her. She loved that he saw her as no one else did. How could she not spend every single spare moment she had in pursuit of a way for him?

"I'll try, darling." She vowed. "I'll do everything within my power to return what is rightfully yours."

He captured her lips in a ravenous kiss.

**************

Now...

"I received your message." Leo climbed the trellis to Madeleine's balcony. "Did you find something?"

"I think I have." She showed him the lost book of Aurelia. "It is taking me a while to decipher, but I believe that what you need will be in here."

He stared at the book that might possibly hold his future.

"For instance," she opened it to the third chapter, "a witch held a vampire hostage to discover where their super strength and mind powers originate from."

His eyes narrowed on the crude symbols meant to be letters of the ancient Aurelian language.

"And you believe you will find a way to destroy Father's powers?" He asked.

"No." She gently placed her arm around his waist. "I believe I will find a way to give you those same powers without the vampiric nature."

His eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"I am." She smiled up at him. "What will your first act as king be?"

He returned her smile. "After naming you queen, it will be to heal our fractured kingdom once and for all."

****************

That same evening, near a bustling market place in the capital...

"Lady Hana?"

Hana spun around and smiled. "Lord Beaumont?"

"Maxwell, please." He grinned at her. "It's nice to meet you."

She shook his hand then gestured to the lady beside her. "This my best friend and business partner, Riley Brooks."

"Hi." Riley shook his hand. "Hana said that you would be our tour guide."

"Well," he slipped his hands in his pockets while summoning his charming façade, "I don't like to brag but I do know all the best places to see in Cordonia."

"Great!" Hana relaxed some. "We have quite the list prepared of what we want to see most."

"Oh?" His eyes widened when she handed him a notebook. "Wow. You, uh, you weren't kidding."

"We're vloggers." Riley explained. "Our subscribers depend on us to be thorough with the places we travel to."

"Then you've got the right kind of tour guide." He hesitated when he came to Riley's section. "Interested in the supernatural?"

"Yep." Riley laughed. "You wouldn't think it of us," she nudged a giggle out of Hana, "but we have a lot of fun exploring the creepy."

"Not that we have ever come across a ghost or creature of the night." Hana added. "But we refuse to give up."

"I see." Maxwell mumbled. He looked up at them with a grin. "I'm a fraidy cat myself."

"That's okay." Riley shrugged. "It won't be the first time Hana and I have to venture into the unknown alone."

"She means supposed haunted houses and woods." Hana added with a chuckle.

"But that's not all I want to see." Riley pointed at another section of her list. "Night clubs and historical spots are another part I want to spend time on."

Maxwell shut the binder. "How about for your first venture into Cordonia's nightlife we go dancing?" He flashed another dimpled grin. "No need to spook you on the first night here."

"Sounds good to me." Riley replied when Hana tilted her head in agreement. "Lead the way."

******************

"Why did we come here of all places?" Drake grumbled.

"I sent Leo a message to meet us here for a drink." Liam sat down at one of the bar's balcony chairs. "He hasn't replied but I am still hopeful he will show up."

He had always enjoyed this particular bar simply for its view. The bustling marketplace of Cordonia's capital was the perfect place to people watch.

It was one of his favorite past times and he usually came by himself. Tonight though, he had dragged Drake and Sherry along while forcing Rashad to promise to meet up with them once he concluded a business dinner.

"Here we go." Sherry set some glasses down. "One whiskey for Mr. Grumpypants."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, I meant Sir Grumpypants." She teased. "One scotch for Liam." She sat down between them, "...and one--" her eyes began to glow as she zeroed in on an all too familiar figure down in the crowd.

"Sherry?" Drake poked her when she stilled.

"What is it?" Liam became alarmed by her fury forming.

Her eyes narrowed to mere slits. "He wouldn't dare!"

Sparks shot off from her hands as she shoved her chair back.

"Sherry!" Liam grasped her arm to try to calm her down before her emotions gave away what she was. He believed though that he should be able to alter the few patron’s memory here yet he hoped it wouldn't come to that."

"Who are you--" Drake's jaw spasmed as he tried to remain under control. He finally saw what she had seen. "It's that damn Beaumont!"

Liam turned to scan the crowd. He noticed the hunter walking with a lady on each arm. His brow furrowed at the strange sight. He knew Sherry had secured for the most part a future with him, and yet he was out with two--

Liam sucked in a strangled breath. The lady on his left had lifted her face to look at the upper level bars and restaurants. Her deep brown eyes met his and she smiled before continuing on her study of her surroundings.

Sherry jerked her arm out of his grasp. "I'm going to burn off some pieces of his body for this!"

Drake didn't bother to help stop her, hoping she would indeed hurt the man.

Liam shook himself out of the haze seeing the strange woman had caused. "Wait!" He took off after his relative. "Sherry!"

Drake heaved a groan, downed his drink, and begrudgingly followed in their wake.

******************

"...and if you are looking for the latest fashions, Hana, this store has a direct from Paris line--"

Maxwell took a step back when Sherry appeared before them.

Hana and Riley looked first at the furious woman then at his shocked face in curiosity.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sherry hissed.

Maxwell swallowed uneasily. "Will, uh, will you ladies excuse me a moment?"

"Sure." Riley replied as he grasped the mystery woman's hand.

He released it with a yelp as if touching her had hurt.

"Is something wrong?" Hana asked.

Maxwell shook his scalded hand. "No."

"That's what you deserve." Sherry muttered for his ears only. "How could you--

"Ladies, allow me to introduce Lady Sherry Alcantar." Maxwell bit out. His blue eyes seemed to spark with a fire of his own as he gazed upon the woman. "My love, this is Lady Hana Lee and Ms. Riley Brooks of New York. Lady Hana's mother is an old friend of my family who asked me to show them around."

Sherry's eyes narrowed somewhat. She was slightly mollified in hearing him call her his love, but that still gave him no right to escort two disgustingly beautiful women around Cordonia at night.

"It's nice to meet you." Riley held her hand out. "Maxwell told us all about you on the way here. I'm so glad we have a face to put to the name he says in every other sentence."

Sherry took a deep breath to cool her fiery temper. She shook her hand with a sincere smile. "It's nice to meet you both."

Hana smiled warmly at her while describing their work. "Lady Sherry, perhaps we could question you about some of the places we hope to capture on film.

The two friends shared a significant glance when Maxwell and Sherry merely stared at one another.

"If you don't mind, I would love to go in there and look around." Hana gestured toward the shop. "I can already see some dresses that I think would be perfect for our videos."

"We'll be back in a few." Riley added, winking at Sherry on her way inside. “I’m sure Maxwell would prefer staying out here with you than be stuck shopping with us.”

Sherry took a deep breath once they were gone. "Why are you really out with them?"

"I received a call the other night from Hana's mother." He explained. "She heard about Liam's search for a bride."

"Her mother knows about the Dark Kingdom?" Sherry couldn't hide her surprise. It was rare to find anyone today who actually believed that the stories were true.

"Yes, she is from one of Cordonia's minor houses." Maxwell sighed. "She doesn't want her daughter to be the next Dark Queen."

Sherry tried to control her temper. Nothing sparked it like someone denying the sweetest, most gentle man she knew a chance at happiness. She clinched her fists when she felt the heat move over her body.

"Sherry?" Maxwell took a cautious step forward. "You're overheating." He tried to take her in his arms, wincing at how hot she felt.

Her eyes flashed as she glared at him. "I know."

He let her go. "I'm sorry, honey."

The unexpected apology and endearment was what instantly cooled her. "You're what?"

"I know how important Liam is to you." He added, running his hands down his face. "But, I doubt this will be then only lady I'm tasked with protecting from him."

"Liam deserves a chance at finding his mate as much as anyone else. Maybe even more so." Sherry argued. She raised her eyes to his. "If you would spend time with him, then you would see what kind of man he is." She looked back into the shop at the two new ladies. "Maybe then you wouldn't take on jobs like this."

Maxwell hated seeing her so down and knowing he was partly responsible. He reached out and took her in his arms, cuddling her close. He dropped a kiss on top of her head.

“I know you want me to meet him. I’ll try to do so one day.” He tried to fight how wrong that felt saying aloud. “But for the moment, I can’t take a chance on Liam meeting Hana.”

“Why did you accept this?” She asked. “You've never taken on bodyguard duty before.”

"Hana's family offered incentives that I needed to help with Bertrand's healing." He rested his cheek against her head when he felt her arms wrap around him. "I didn't think about how it would affect Liam or you. I just knew I couldn't pass up this opportunity for my brother.”

Sherry lifted her head and gently kissed him. "I understand." A rueful smile formed on her lips. "And I apologize for blowing up at you earlier. When I saw you with two highly attractive women and clearly having the time of your life, something in me just snapped."

"You know, you ruined me for anyone else." His dimpled grin appeared. "I could be out with a dozen so called gorgeous women and all I would notice is that they aren't you."

She beamed at him. "Really?"

"Really."

When silence fell between them again, Maxwell exaggerated clearing his throat. He cocked an eyebrow when Sherry looked up at him.

"You ruined me too." She admitted.

"I better have." He grinned once more when he heard her laugh. "Just so there is no misunderstanding, I have to spend the next few weeks with Hana and Riley." He nudged Sherry's chin up. "I want you to come with us as much as you would like."

"You do?"

He nodded.

"I suppose I could find the time." She teased. With a sigh she looked up at the bar. "I should probably head back up there."

"Where?"

"I was up there having a drink with Liam and Drake." She pointed toward the empty balcony. "I wonder where they went."

"Liam's here?!" Maxwell let her go and rushed over to the shop window. He breathed a touch easier when he saw Hana critically studying a dress Riley had tried on.

He then scanned the crowd. His hand immediately went to his side, causing him to curse aloud when he remembered he had not brought his sword. He had left it behind to keep the illusion of a fun, party lord intact.

He really needed to start carrying a hidden dagger like Olivia kept insisting.

Sherry folded her arms while watching him revert into hunter mode. "Max? You know Liam would never harm them."

He narrowed his eyes as he searched for the Dark Prince and his right hand man.

He glanced at the lady beside him when he heard her deep sigh.

"Let me see where he disappeared to and I'll try and get him out of here."

"What was he doing down here anyway?" He asked.

"Oh." Sherry bit down on her bottom lip. "He recently found out that Leo is back in Cordonia and invited him to meet us for a drink."

"Leo's here too?!" Maxwell briefly closed his eyes. "I've got both of Constantine's sons converging on the very spot where I bring the woman I'm supposed to protect from that family."

Sherry rolled her eyes. "Stop panicking. I don't think Leo will show."

Maxwell noticed the bitterness in her tone. "He’s still not speaking to any of you?"

"Nope." Sherry wrapped her arms around his waist when he placed his arm back around her shoulders to try and comfort her. "No one in our kingdom has heard a word from him since Liam was named heir."

Maxwell pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "I'm sorry--"

She jumped when her phone vibrated.

"What's wrong?" Maxwell asked when her brow furrowed.

"Liam has gone to the palace. He said he needs to talk to Olivia." She sighed. "I guess Leo really is going to ignore us." She looked up at Maxwell. "You can rest easy in your job this evening, Lord Beaumont."

He hugged her close against his side. "You want to come with us? Riley wants to check out the nightlife here and I offered to take them to one of the clubs."

"A night club, huh?" She laughed. "It might actually seem like a date if I did come along."

Her heart melted at how bashful he suddenly seemed over the reminder that they had yet to have an actual date.

"I guess I have dropped the ball on that."

"It's hard to find the time when you're guarding the border nearly every night." She reminded him.

"We'll have our date one day." He promised.

"I'm fine with our nights at the border."

"You deserve better." Maxwell kissed her once more. "I'll make it up to you."

Sherry's lips parted to reassure him, only to pause when Riley and Hana came out of the store.

"Ready?" He asked them, summoning his fun loving persona once more.

"Please get us out of here." Riley pleaded playfully. "I think I actually heard my bank account cry after buying these." She held up the garment bags.

Hana laughed while keeping her own purchases off the ground. "Perhaps we should call it a night since we ended up buying so much. Is there any chance you can show us more tomorrow?"

Sherry could feel the tension in his body ease completely at the notion of putting these two safely away from the night.

"Sure." He looked down at the lady in his arms. "Sherry and I were just deciding on the places to show you these next few weeks."

"That's wonderful!" Hana beamed at the new lady. "We are grateful for all the help we can get."

While Riley and Hana began to eagerly question Sherry on her favorite restaurants and things to do, Maxwell guided them out of the market place, all while keeping a lookout for any sign of Liam.

***************

"Why are we going to see her again?" Drake grumbled. "Isn't it bad enough we had to see a Beaumont tonight? Now you want to add a Nevarkis to the evening's entertainment."

Liam ignored him as his jumbled thoughts focused in on one fact: he had actually seen the woman he knew to be his mate.

When he chased after Sherry, he had decided to hang back in the shadows. Knowing that the hunter his relative had lost her heart to would not be comfortable with his presence, he decided to remain far enough that he could intercede if Sherry's temper caused any problems.

Plus he hoped to hear more about the woman Maxwell was escorting.

Ms. Riley Brooks of New York.

He not only had overheard her name but also where she was from. He was able to see her more clearly in the lights from the nearby shops. Her beauty and the sound of her voice stirred something he had never felt when looking upon any other person.

She had to be the one. There was no other explanation to his reaction to just the sight of her.

Then he heard the reason Maxwell was with them.

The Dark Prince could not have cared less about the lady named Hana. But his job to protect her was going to make Liam's courtship of Riley difficult. He knew he would need some help if he was to get her away from her friend and Maxwell.

He couldn't ask Sherry to manipulate Maxwell into time alone with Riley. It didn't seem right to use the love between them in such a manner.

While frustration grew, he overheard the fact that Hana's mother was a Cordonian noble.

And he finally knew who could help him.

"Wait here." Liam ordered when they reached the palace gates. "I want Olivia in a good mood when I ask for her help. Seeing you, sadly, will not accomplish that."

"You're asking for her help?” Drake asked. “In what?"

"I'll tell you everything once the plan is in motion." He promised.

"But--" Drake rolled his eyes when Liam vanished. Within a second, he saw him climbing into the queen's window of her study.

"Good luck." He mumbled as he settled in for a long wait.

******************

"Hold on." Olivia raised her hands. "You want me to invite you and these Americans to my masquerade ball?" Her eyes widened. "Are you insane?!" She got up from her desk and began to pace. "Liam, my guards are trained to find and destroy any vampire who dares to enter the palace during such events!"

"I won't touch a single drop of blood that night and my manners will fit right in with the rest of the nobility." He explained. "Plus with wearing a mask, no one will recognize me."

"Why here?" Olivia asked. "Can't you do whatever you vampires do when you find your mate without involving me or my home?"

Liam leaned against the edge of her desk. "Because of Maxwell and Sherry."

"Maxwell and Sherry? What does my most trusted monster hunter and one of your dragons have to do with this?"

Liam's brow furrowed. "Hasn't he told you that he is Sherry's recognized mate?"

"Maxwell is a dragon's mate? Maxwell Beaumont?!" Oliva sat down in a chair completely stunned by this news.

"I can't believe he didn't tell you." Liam hoped he hadn't ruined anything by revealing this.

"Maxwell owes me nothing, especially when it concerns his private life." Olivia quickly explained. "If anything, it is me and Cordonia that owe him for all his years of service." A wiry smile flirted about her lips at the irony of it all. "A renowned monster hunter and a monster in love and destined for one another. Poor Maxwell. That had to be a shock."

"You know, you really are a nice person." Liam grinned and sat across from her. "That's why I knew as a little boy that we were destined to be friends."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Back to your request. Why will my ball not only help you but also keep Sherry and Maxwell out of it?"

"Because Maxwell will be forced to come along once you invite Lady Hana and Riley. And if I'm here--"

"Yes, but my head of security knows your name and what you are." Olivia stressed again. "I can't have him see your name on the guest list and--"

"But I will simply be company with the Duke of Domvallier." Liam explained. "Rashad's duchy is technically Cordonian, as you well know. Since only a rare handful know that Rashad and Sherry are dragons, I assumed your head of security would think it was a myth too."

Olivia nodded. "That's true. Bastien believes that the only creatures of the Dark Kingdom are vampires."

Liam's smile grew. "I can be a business associate of Rashad's. While Maxwell is keeping an eye on Hana and distracted with Sherry, I can then meet Riley under easier circumstances."

Seeing his excitement, she knew she couldn't refuse him.

"You're the only one who can do this for me." Liam added. "Plus, you're one of the few I can trust with this."

"Geez. Why not whip out those mind powers of yours while you're at it?" She grumbled.

Shaking her head over how easily she was ready to help him, she couldn't help but return his smile. "Fine. I'll send invitations to Rashad for the three of you and for Lady Hana and company."

Liam scooped her up out of her chair before she could blink and hugged her tight.

"Thank you!" He bowed and kissed her hand. "I knew I could count on you."

"Uh huh." She waved towards her window. "Now get out of here before I change my mind."

He winked at her and did as she said. "I'll see you at the Masquerade Ball, your majesty."

She walked over to the window and watched him disappear through the gate. Her smile dimmed as she thought of the report she had been reviewing when he appeared in her private study.

Olivia wondered if she should have told Liam about his brother's secret meetings with the Countess of Fydelia. There could only be one reason he had recently become so close to the witch. Leo must be searching for a way to gain the power he had been denied since birth.

Deciding to keep a close eye on the banished prince, she planned on telling Liam once she had more information. He was so happy with finding his mate that she couldn't stand the thought of taking that away from him with this news.

"Damn it." Olivia muttered. "Liam really is my best friend."

Somehow a Nevarkis had developed a love for a Rhys.

*Character moodboard for Madeleine and Leo*

#all through the night #choices the royal romance #trr vampire au #trr dark au #liam x riley #maxwell x oc #maxwell x sherry #drake walker #olivia nevarkis #hana lee #vampire liam #leo x madeleine

27 notes · View notes

anjuschiffer · 4 years

Text

The Fabric Roll Of Fate

So this has been sitting in my WIPs since October of last year... Finally had the time to finish it up! More like I couldn’t sleep so I finally worked on it

Hope you enjoy it!

------

Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo (welcome to the permanent taglist!)

------

It was one of those random family outings, one of those moments that Damian was reluctantly dragged to

He just wanted to stay home and train for the upcoming fencing tournament in his school, one of the few things that Damian looked forward to in the school year

Yet here he was, being held captive and listening to Garyson talk for the umpteenth time about his daughter’s latest adventure

Finding an opening, Damian slips off, walking through alleyways to escape his family, eventually arriving to the fashion district of Gotham

He decides to enter the first store he sees, seeing as his hands were starting to get cold

He hated Gotham’s chilly and cold seasons. Spring was his favorite season.

As he ventures inside the store, he starts to look at the fabric inside, now wondering why fashion designers were so picky with their fabrics

It was when he saw two identical rolls of fabric that he decided to investigate for his answer

As he runs his hands across two white fabrics (linen and velvet), he notices the slight differences, not noticing that he was starting to mumble his observations

It was then that his hand bumps into someone else’s Damian turning to see a girl his age.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to bother you!” She quickly apologizes. “You were probably in your zone and-”

“I was simply looking at them. You didn’t interrupt anything.”

Damian watches as the girl relaxes and smiles at him.

“I see. Well, if you need any help, I’d be happy to help! Is there a certain reason you’re-”

“I was thinking of hiring someone to make me a suit for an upcoming event-” Damian attempted to lie (although he technically didn’t as his family was looking for one...not like he was going to tell them about the one he just found), taken aback when the girl looked at him with twinkling eyes. What was going on

“A suit? So I’m guessing a tux, but if you want something to make you standout- but I think you don’t want that, huh?” She begins to look him up and down, quickly mumbling some numbers to herself. “Black or any dark color would suit you, but having emerald accents-no! Gold accents would suit you better.” Damian remains silent as she circles him, not once placing a hand on him. “Shawl collars, traditional or modern could work. Definitely single breast, maybe tail-oh god no. No tails.” Damian watched as her eyes filled with happiness. “A cumberbund would definitely suit you. That’s where I can place the gold!”

Damian kept listening as the girl kept listing ideas to herself, watching with awe as she kept the ideas coming, eventually snapping out of his trance when she presented him a card.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to make that suit. Of course! The decision is yours if you’d allow me to make it.” He watches as the girl points to a phone number and email address in rose gold. “Give me a call, text or email if you decide to accept my offer. See ya!”

Damian is left dumbfounded as he watches her go and pick some fabric rolls, purchase them and then leave.

“What just happened?”

Damian looks at the all black card in his hand. On one side was the phone number and email. On the other, the letters M D C were on the card, a single line going through the three letters. Simple, yet elegant.

Damian ends up accepting the offer, setting to meet the girl that Friday afternoon after his classes.

When his family attempts to tag along, he tells them no, setting on going alone.

“Welcome to my humble home.” She greets him after picking him up (she insisted despite Damian saying he had his own mode of transport) at the rendezvous and then to her flat. He was faced with one of Gotham’s most expensive penthouses, Damian wondering who exactly was this girl who can afford one of his father’s expensive hotels.

“Do you...live by yourself?”

“Yup! Although my uncle- oh! How can I forget?” The girl says, closing the door behind her. “Sorry for the late introduction! My name’s Marinette. The one behind the upcoming brand MDC. I’m currently here for a commission. Although, by the looks of it, I might end up staying here in Gotham.”

He’s heard of her, the decade’s youngest designer in the fashion world, or so he’s heard.

“Now, let’s start with getting your measurements, shall we?”

One visit became two, to then various

And they were mainly never about his suit that she was making him.

He didn’t know why he found him attracted to her place...to her

But simply felt at home with her

He quickly learns everything about her. Her old school life, her friends, her ex, her parents, hobbies, and old commissions.

At first he thought she graduated early from highschool because of her bully, but it turns out that it was because she already had all her requirements done and seeing that there was no other reason to stay, she left. Also, having more time is what she needed if she wanted to succeed in the fashion world. So when her uncle (who he learns is Jagged Stone) offered her a hand, she took it and came to Gotham.

But Damian didn’t just listen, he also talked about himself

About Titus, his family, his fencing tournament. His opinions on Selina. His mixed feelings about his mother.

His family kept trying to follow him, but they have yet to figure out where he would go every other afternoon and evening.

Months pass, the suit already done and ready to be worn, but it still wasn’t the day of the Gala yet. But even then, Damian still stopped by, often times letting Marinette use him as a mannequin and dress form

Sometimes they would continue to talk about their mundane lives or things from the past that still ate at them, anything for Damian to simply listen to her voice because while he didn’t fully accept it, he knew he had feelings for her.

A scene that happens:

“And the worst part was that Alya knew she was lying. Lila was definitely not there because Alya was there. She was the one who saw Ladybug capture the akuma not Lila. Lila wasn’t anywhere near Paris when it even happened!” Marinette huffed as she tippy toed to make sure she was measuring the correct portion of Damian’s back.

Damian felt her presence ever so close to him, causing him to panic. Yes, he only allowed her to invade his personal space, but this was too much for his heart.

The aroma of baked goods always radiated from her and being this close only made Damian want to become obsessed with the smell even more.

“So even with that in mind, this Alya decided to take the other girl’s stance?” Marinette let out a sigh, walking in front of Damian and throwing the tape measure around his neck, causing him to tense up.

“Yeah, and I guess that’s what really made me snap to reality when it came to Alya.” Mari frowned at that, tightening the tape closer to each other to get a collar measure.

Lord, did she have no idea how much restraint Damian had to put himself under for just wanting to kiss her right now, but he knew better than than.

He took her hands away from the tape, noticing her eyes lacking that shine they usually carry when she’s in the crafting zone. He looked at her hands, covered in calluses and a few sewing mishaps. Even when they were covered in painful memories, Marinette hands were still gentle. “What’s gentle?”

Damian’s breath hitched, realizing that he said that last part out loud.

“You are.” Damian said, bringing her hands to his lips to kiss. Damian couldn’t help but feel victorious at the sight of Marinette glowing pink. “You’re a gentle and kind person. She doesn’t deserve your kindness if she was willing to quickly push you aside like that.”

Marinette looked straight at Damian before throwing herself into his chest, almost causing him to tip back. “Thank you, Damian.”

A few days were left until the gala, and it just had to be that time when his stupid brothers found out about his meetings with Marinette (and him coning to terms that he absolutely loves her)

“A girl, huh?” Jason would tease while Dick tried to gathering more information about Damian’s “friend”

“She’s simply designing my suit for-”

“The gala. Sure Lil’ D.” Grayson would say before wanting to pry more information from him.

“Why don’t you invite her to the gala?” Bruce proposes, Damian no thinking about it

“Maybe I will.” He regrets saying

And Marinette ends up saying yes, now panicking about what to wear

“What about that dress?” Damian points to her almost completed black dress.

A high collared black dress with long sleeves was what Damian was referring to. With an open back and skirt that fell to the ground, it’s golden accents by the collar that ran across the chest...it would match his own all black suit with golden accents at the shoulders and cumberbund.

“That.. that could actually work.”

Time skip to the gala, where when the two arrive, they steal the spotlight because not only did Damian arrive with a date, but she was stunning. Despite being three inches taller than him, Marinette was perfect by his side

“So Damian, what’s her name and how’d you meet this girl?” Jason asked first, but to Dick’s annoyance.

“Her name’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the one behind both of our attires.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Dupain-Cheng.” Bruce manages to say despite being surprised by Damian’s new development.

“So how-” Tim attempted to ask, but marinette cut him off.

“We met at a fabric store. A fabric roll brought us together.”

The night goes on, with it ending by Marinette asking Damian to be her boyfriend. (Damian then also reveals that he was also going to ask her to be his girlfriend)

“Of course.” He says, having to stretch to kiss her, glad to have gone into that fabric store that day.

Sure, it was weird, but Damian was glad to day that a single fabric roll decided their fate of meeting each other.

#maribat #daminette #anju writes

755 notes · View notes

toomanyfandoms02 · 4 years

Text

Date Day // Draco Malfoy x Reader

I give you a realistic Draco. I lowkey don't like writing him like this but I think this is just how Draco would be in relationships, realistically.

SEND IN HARRY POTTER REQUEST!! IF YOU NEED A LITTLE INSPO, FIND MY 100 DIALOGUE PROMPTS!!!

Summary - Its the last day of summer before going back to school and you both plan a date day. (They are going into their 6th year before everything went to complete shit ahhaha) Tiny bit steamy near the end.

Warnings - ^^ Little bit of steamy at the end, nothing big.

Word Count - 1.7k

Draco and I had the whole date planned out. We didn't want to waste the last day we had before we had to go to Hogwarts for our 6th year.

Draco planned the first half, which was just beginning, and I would be planning the last half of the day.

Something that I think many of our friends (and even our family) had misconstrued was that Draco wasn't romantic. His tough exterior and demeanor made him seem calloused and ridged. Thought I will not lie to you, he could run quite thin at times. But his mom had clearly raised him right, he knew how to treat a girl.

So here we were, sitting on a picnic blanket behind the Malfoy manner. Draco had brought all of my favorite things to snack on. Cauldron cakes, Treacle Tarts, and Sherbet Lemons. Along with a little bit of fire whiskey that he snuck from his parents, which were not home at the moment.

We filled our stomachs with sweets and got ourselves tipsy on fire whiskey. (Draco insisted our next activity would be more fun if we weren't completely coherent.)

"One, two, three." And we downed another shot, I chased it with some water and shook my head from the strong alchohol.

"I think if we drink anymore we will be more than tipsy." I laughed, putting the bottle back in the basket. "Onto whatever you have planned next, yeah?" I grabbed Dracos hand and watched a smile creep onto his face, squeezing it to get another reaction out of him. His smile grew wider as he looked into my eyes.

"What are you doing lovely?" He squeezed my hand back with the same grin. It was so nice to see him smile, he seemed much more glum this summer than usual.

"Nothing at all." And with that I stood, bringing him with me. We quietly entered the house, making sure his parents were truly not home still. He set the fire whiskey back in their cabinet with a clink and entered one of his fire places, a fistful of floo powder in one hand and the other outstretched to me. I took it, stuffing myself next to him and holding onto his torso. He shouted a place I had never heard of before and we were suddenly in a shop.

"You know of muggle fairs." It came out more as a statement than a question, so I just nodded. "Well they've started a magical one." He pushed the doors open to the shop, revealing a bustling area filled with happy kids and adults alike. I could feel the fire whiskey hitting me now, and I could tell Draco was right.

This will be more fun when you're tipsy.

We ran around for hours playing clearly rigged games and completely failing at them due to our state. I hadn't seen Draco so giggly since we were kids.

And I loved it.

He was much more lovey and loosened up when he had a little bit of alchohol. He didn't think so hard. He would come behind me and hug my shoulders, kiss my neck softly when we were waiting in line for something. And when I was lucky, he would kiss me hastily on the lips. These were things he would usually do in private, where no one could see how soft he actually was. But when he was careless, PDA was nearly a priority for him.

After playing loads of games and winning only one tiny stuffed bear, we were off to my part of the date.

Any time it was my turn to plan a date, I tried to make it like this. To bring out a part of him only I could see, so we were watching movies at my house.

Now, my house was by no means the size of Dracos, he was born into a far more fortunate household. But we were fortunate enough to have a movie room. A simple room with a big tv and long couch to lay on. Or in our case, cuddle on. Draco had told me in the past how warm I was, and how much he loved that about me because of the contrast of his cold body. I laid a blanket on the leather couch, bringing two pillows and another much larger blanket along with it to drape on top of us. He lay down on the couch, his long legs outstretched. He opened his arms to me with a smile, patting his chest. I started The Breakfast Club and came to lay on his chest and across his body lazily. He stroked his hand through my hair and kissed my head multiple times as I pulled the blanket up to my chin.

"You really are warm you know." He said, his arm snaking mindlessly up my shirt. He traced patterns on my tummy with his cold fingers.

"Yes, I can feel that." I giggled, taking his other hand and kissing the back of it. "Maybe you should wear warmer clothes." I craned my neck back with a smirk to look his in the eye. He rolled his playfully and kept on with his pattern making on my stomach.

"I'm just cold-blooded darling." He stated. We watched through the first movie and I changed it to another, climbing back onto Draco differently this time, considering I was tired. I laid on my stomach, legs tangled with his. Wrapping my arms around his neck softly and setting my head on his shoulder into the crook of his neck. A planted a kiss there just to tease him, knowing he likes it when I do that. I felt his chest raise a little faster after the kiss, so I planted another, innocently.

A small huff could be felt from his nose on my neck. He brought his hand up to scratch my back, knowing it would stop and distract me from whatever I was doing, and it always worked. I would never not love these days. Days where we could sit in comfortable silence and enjoy eachother.

The second movie had ended and I stood with a stretch. I had been sitting for far to long.

"Okay, theres one more thing but it doesn't really count as the date. Do you wanna see me try on some new outfits I got? I had to get a new uniform, my old one was becoming a bit small." Draco nodded eagerly at the statement, letting me drag him upstairs to my room.

I shut the door firmly and picked up the pile of clothes and spread them out a bit, it wasn't much.

Now if this had been us a year ago, I would have told Draco to turn around. But for obvious reasons, this would not be the first time he had seen me with minimal clothes on.

"Now don't get all worked up." I pointed at his accusingly and with a small playful glare. His hands shot up in defense and he sat in the chair in the corner of my room.

I removed my shirt and slipped on the new sweater I had bought. It was dark green with a big white stripe in the middle on the chest area. Inside the line it read Slytherin and it had a collar. It was also clearly too big for me.

"I was hoping you would wear it sometimes so I could wear it after and it would smell like you." I told Draco, taki0ng it off and handing it to him. Slipping on my new white button up and vest, I slipped off my jeans to put the skirt on. Draco averted his eyes, he told me this was out a respect, for I did not ask him to look at me. He had told me that a few months ago. I found it incredibly sexy how respectful he was, what can I say, I find respect amazing.

But immediately as I put it on something felt off. This seemed even *smaller* than the one I had before. Maybe I was wrong?

"Draco, is this skirt suppose to be this short?" His eyes scanned up my legs, eyes widening slightly until he reached my face. I could see a clear blush reach his cheeks. It was quite amusing seeing Draco blush because when he did, it was so obvious on the contrast of his pale skin.

"I-I don't think so." He replied, flustered to all hell.

"I think they gave me the wrong one, damnit." I laughed, trying to make the skirt go as far down as possible but miserably failing when it didnt go any further than right past my butt. I looked back over at Draco with a pouty look, just to see him with his eyes nearly closed and addams apple bobbing in this throat. "You okay there Malfoy?" I teased.

"You're making it awfully hard not to get worked up when you look so beautiful." He said barely above a whisper, not helping that his hands slightly muffled the words.

"Oh you like this?" He looked at me with a look as if to say *No shit Sherlock*. I then made the decision to walk over to him, placing myself on his lap lightly. I ran my hands through his hair slowly, starting at his forehead.

"Must you tease me like this woman?" He complained with a whine, a thing you also don't hear much from Draco, any kind of begging or whining.

So I kissed him, pulling his head closer to mine and deepening it immediately. He kissed back with force, we hadn't done anything like this in a while. His hands wandered my body until they rested next to my butt. He grabbed at it and began moving my hips against his, I caught on and began doing it myself. We had done that for two minutes before I heard the front door slam. I jumped from his lap, yelling hi to my parents.

I looked down at Draco to see a *problem*.

"I'm going to distract them and say you're in the bathroom. Go take care of that." I laughed, my hand covering my mouth so I wouldn't burst into tears giggling.

"Very funny Y/n." He replied sarcastically, walking himself to my bathroom.

This date day went even better than I anticipated.

#harry potter #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco imagine #draco one shot #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy one shot

378 notes · View notes

acnelli · 3 years

Text

The Beholder

This is one of my entries for the @romioneficfest 2021. Please check out all of the submitted stories; you can find them HERE.

A huge shout-out to @divagonzo for hosting this fest again. Just like last year it provided me with so many lovely ficlets to read, written by talented and creative authors.

Thank you, @curlyy-hair-dont-care, for beta-reading this story! <3

Rating: T

Warnings: implied sexual content, body image

Prompt: Ron catches Hermione in a moment of self-doubt

Summary: Hermione is not happy with the way she looks in her new lingerie.

You can also read this story on AO3 and FFN.

*** *** *** ***

Hermione stood in front of the large mirror in their bedroom, a prominent frown on her face. She let her hands glide over the black lace of the undergarments she bought today. It was a spontaneous decision, one she already regretted as the flimsy material showed in painful obviousness how her body had changed over the last couple of years.

She never had been a person who spent much time caring for her appearance. Her mother had not used make-up and Hermione figured this was the reason she never picked up an interest in using it every day, save for some special occasions where she put on some mascara and lipstick.

And the battle with her bushy hair had been given up a long time ago. Something Ron was vocally happy about since he kept on insisting he preferred her hair in its wild, curly state.

It was their wedding anniversary today, meaning they would go out for some fancy dinner. A real treat when parenting two kids, who were six- and four years old. The little dragons were at Ginny and Harry's tonight and Hermione wanted to make the most out of having the house all to themselves. And what better way to spice up their much-needed alone time with some sexy, rather uncomfortable lingerie?

Again, she examined her thighs showing above the stockings, her hands brushing over her hips and down to her bum, gripping the cheeks. Her once petite body wasn't petite anymore. Instead of the small, round arse she used to show off in tight jeans or a nice pencil skirt, there were wide hips and stretch marks. Where there had been a flat belly, her tummy now hid some of the knicker's waistband at the front.

Why she chose today to acknowledge this was beyond her, but Hermione shook her head and decided to put on a lace nightgown instead later, hoping her mood would brighten again by the time Ron would come home from work.

Sighing in defeat she gave her reflection one last sad look before quickly reaching for the bra clasp, determined to get out of the flimsy underwear to dress for their night out.

"Not so fast."

Hermione stopped in her tracks and whipped around towards the bedroom door where Ron was leaning against the door frame.

"Ron! I did not hear you coming home." Hermione stammered, her eyes wide and her hands trying to find a position that would provide the most cover to her half naked body.

She could already feel the heat of the oncoming blush flushing her cheeks as Ron smirked at her, still standing at the door with his arms crossed in front of him.

"I'd rather you leave this task to me," Ron said, pointing at Hermione's black lace bra.

"I just-," Hermione's voice faltered a bit and she took a second to clear her throat, trying to appear slightly more dignified than she felt, "This doesn't fit."

"It seems to fit rather fine," Ron objected as he slowly walked towards her, "These are new, aren't they?"

Hermione nodded and turned back to the mirror as Ron walked up behind her. Watching the reflection of her husband and herself she couldn't help but complain about the unfairness. "How can you eat more than everyone else, but still be so skinny? I just have to look at a piece of chocolate nowadays and it immediately adds to my midriff."

Automatically, her arms slung around said body section but Ron caught her wrists, uncovering her waist and belly again. He stepped even closer until he stood flush against Hermione's back and wrapped her into his arms from behind. A soft moan escaped her lips at the feeling of Ron's hard body pressed up against her.

She usually loved the sight of his pale, freckled skin standing out starkly against her bronze complexion and usually, she would take her time admiring them for a minute. The only thing she could focus on today though was the way her body hid Ron's mid-section, so much slimmer than hers.

Still, she closed her eyes as Ron's hands started to glide down her sides and rested on her thighs, stroking the skin right above the lace of her stockings. His big hands always felt so good.

"So, you'll ditch me should I get fat?"

Her eyes snapped open and found Ron's blue ones looking back at her, a mischievous glint in them. "Of course, not!" She rolled her eyes at him.

"Because," Ron placed a soft kiss on her shoulder, "You apparently think a little body fat makes one less attractive. And since I don't plan to reduce my sugar intake, it's not entirely impossible that you'll have to deal with a bigger version of me someday."

"Like that will ever happen," Hermione raised an eyebrow at him but couldn't suppress a smirk, "Your arse will be skinny and tiny forever. A bean pole for eternity. Plus, I didn't marry you for your stellar body."

Ron barked out a laugh but a second later he continued roaming his hands all over Hermione's body. His touch made her tingle all over and combined with his intense gaze meeting her in the mirror, she almost forgot about her imperfect body parts.

"Hermione," Ron said with a hint of demand lacing his voice, making sure Hermione was looking him into his eyes, "you know I think you're fucking gorgeous, right?" He gave her tummy a light squeeze.

"As my husband, you have to say that." Hermione put her own hands over Ron's.

"As your husband, it's my duty to tell you when you're being mental," he told her, sweeping Hermione's curls to one side and started to kiss the now exposed side of her neck, "And if you think my mouth didn't go completely dry the second I saw you in these," He traced one of her bra straps to emphasize his words, "I sure as hell need to remind you how beautiful you are."

"I'm having a hard time finding myself beautiful nowadays," Hermione admitted as she lowered her head to the side to give Ron easier access for his kisses and nibbles on her soft skin.

"Well, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder," Ron said and when he squeezed her breasts through the bra, Hermione couldn't help but be happy about one positive side effect of gaining weight; her boobs filled out more and especially wrapped in black lace, they looked mouth-watering, even to herself.

"So, let this beholder show you exactly how damn sexy he thinks you are," Ron whispered as he let one of her bra straps glide down over her shoulder and captured her lips in a deep kiss.

Unsurprisingly, they missed their anniversary dinner, as Ron took his time, showing in great detail how much he loved every inch of Hermione Granger-Weasley.

#romione ficfest 2021 #romione #romione fanfic #romione fanfiction #hermione granger #ron weasley #hp #hp fanfic #harry potter #hermione x ron #ron x hermione #ron and hermione #hermione and ron #ronmione #mine #my fanfic #my stories

32 notes · View notes

castleshadows · 3 years

Text

Bow Before Your New Queen

The first Chapter of TCOGB from Casteel's POV.

Written January 14, 2021

“Lower your swords.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother sink down onto one knee. I couldn’t help but be a little surprised at this. She was so angry about my marriage to Poppy, and now here she was, giving up her crown and bowing to the new Queen. As far as I’d known my mother had never bowed to anything in her life. Of course, there had never been a descendant of Nyktos in Atlantia in her lifetime either. Well, there was a first time for everything wasn’t there.

I looked back to Poppy, who was currently staring at my parents like she wanted nothing more than to run very far away and never look back. I didn’t blame her. Her gaze shifted to me, her expression changing. I gave her just a hint of a grin, fangs showing. She visibly relaxed. Gods, I loved her so much.

My friend.

My love.

My partner.

My wife.

My heartmate.

My Queen.

My everything.

She was the only person in the room. Or at least the only one I cared about.

“My Queen.” I breathed, lip curling up of its own accord. Her eyes snagged on something at the corner of my mouth. Probably my dimples. The funny thing was, I hadn’t really ever noticed them until Poppy had brought them up, and now that she had, I couldn’t stop noticing them. It was really rather obnoxious, though I was glad she liked them.

Poppy gave almost a full body shudder, relaxing.

Something came over her then, and her eyes filled with pain. The adrenaline from whatever had happened here was probably coming down. She swayed, knees getting ready to buckle—

I moved, standing up and taking a step closer to Poppy. Her eyes widened. It was so cute the way she was always surprised by how fast most of us were. I wanted to run to her so badly, to take her into my arms and rip out the throats of anyone who came near. It seemed the wolven had the same idea.

A menacing growl came from behind me. Jasper. His size in his wolven form still surprised me to this day. I wondered if Kieran would ever get that big.

Another growl, familiar to me as my own voice.

Kieran himself was looking at me with a hatred in his eyes that was unusual for him. Emotions weren’t usually something he showed. But now, his ears were pinned back, his eyes blue, but not blue. There was something wrong with his eyes…

“No.”

Poppy’s voice was a quiet rasp, and I know she knew what was about to happen. Kieran sank onto his haunches, getting ready to pounce. I didn’t want to hurt him, but if it meant getting to Poppy I would take him down. I would take them all down one by one.

His eyes were so strange though they… they glowed. My eyes widened. They knew.

“You all knew,” I couldn’t believe it. That’s why all the wolven had been running towards the temple before the rain started.

“You all knew something was happening to her, that’s why…” I trailed off. I was mad. Mad they hadn’t told me anything, mad they were keeping me from helping my wife.

Even without Poppy’s empath gifts, I could feel the confusion radiating off of her.

Me too, Princess. Me too.

Several of my parents' personal guards moved to surround them, and I suddenly remembered I was also surrounded. By a bunch of half feral wolven, waiting to rip me into pieces. Shit.

A howl went up into the air from Delano, and several yips and calls answered him from a distance. They grew louder each second.

“Godsdamn,” Emil was reaching for his swords, “Their summoning the whole damn city.”

Yes, Emil, thank you for that astute observation, I thought. I knew he was only saying what needed to be said, but I still couldn’t help but want to stake him on the wall for looking like that at Poppy. She didn’t believe me, but I knew what I saw.

“It’s her,” Alastir stated, coming forward. I could see the distrust in him clearly. Godsdammit would they hurry up. Not everyone here needed to state the complete obvious. All I saw was Poppy, head bleeding, struggling to stand. I needed to get to her. I needed to take care of her. I needed—

“It’s not her,” I shot back at Alastir. This was taking too long.

“But it is,” My father stared at Poppy. I wanted to gouge his eyes out. “They’re responding to her. That’s why the ones on the road with us shifted without warning. She called them to her.”

“I… I didn’t call anyone.” Poppy’s voice broke, and my heart cracked a little with it.

She didn’t know what was going on. Hell, I barely knew what was going on. I could tell she didn’t mean for any of this to happen. If I could just get to her, wrap her in my arms, and tell her it’s going to be okay, then maybe it wouldn’t be a complete lie.

“I know,” I looked at her, hoping my eyes portrayed what my voice could not at this moment. I hoped she was using her gift, so she’d know that at least I, out of all the people in this room (who weren’t wolven of course) didn’t blame her for any of this mess.

“But she did,” my mother insisted. Okay, now I wanted to gouge out her eyes too. “You might not realize it, but you did summon them.”

Poppy looked at my mother for several heartbeats. I could practically hear the gears of her brain turning. My Poppy, my wonderful, beautiful Queen. Then she flinched. She flinched. I hardened.

“If the idiots behind me actually laid down their swords instead of lifting them against my wife , we wouldn’t have an entire colony of wolven about to descend on us.” Staying pleasant at this point, was just a lost cause, “They are only reacting to the threat.”

“You’re right,” My father helped my mother to her feet. Her gown was soaked with blood. “But ask yourself why your bonded wolven is guarding someone other than you.”

I didn’t give a fuck what Kieran was doing.

“I really couldn’t care less at the moment.” The wolven were getting closer. I could hear their paws pounding the ground.

“You need to care,” My mother replied softly. No I didn’t. What I needed was Poppy. “The bonds have broken.”

“She’s right,” Alastir commented, “I can… I can feel it— the Primal notam. Her mark. Good gods. They’ve all broken.”

I didn’t entirely understand, or care about, what he was saying.

Poppy.

My wife.

Hurt.

She’s hurt.

“Look at their eyes,” my mother ordered softly. “I know you don’t understand. There are things you never needed to learn, Hawke.” Her voice cracked then. “But what you need to know now is that they no longer serve the Elemental bloodline. You are not safe. Please,” she begged. “Please. Listen to me, Hawke.”

No.

My wife, my love.

“How?” she asked, “How could the bond break.”

She always asked questions at the most inconvenient times.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” I practically growled, “You’re bleeding.”

She ignored me.

“How?”

“It’s what you are,” My mother lifted her skirts. They were soaked with blood. “You have the blood of a god in you—"

“I’m mortal,” Poppy insisted. “Yes, you are mortal, but you are descended from a deity—the children of the gods. All it takes is a drop of god’s blood—” Eloana swallowed thickly. “You may have more than just a drop, but what is in your blood, what is in you, supersedes any oath the wolven have taken.”

Poppy looked like she was about to pass out.

“You go near her? Right now?” my mother continued “They will see you as a threat to her. They will rip you apart.”

Let them. They may take me down, but I would take many of them down with me.

“Casteel—”

“It’s okay.” My eyes stayed locked with Poppy’s. “No one is going to harm Poppy. I will not allow that.” I took a deep breath. “And you know that right.”

She nodded, eyes frantic.

“Everything’s alright. They’re just protecting you” I smiled for Poppy then, as much as I could manage. But, even I could tell it wasn’t reassuring whatsoever, tense and tight. All my worries showed right on my face.

“I don’t know everything that is going on right now, but you—all of you—want to keep her safe. And I’m all about that. You know I would never hurt her. I would tear out my own heart before I did that. She’s injured. I need to make sure she’s okay, and nothing is going to stop me from doing that.” I didn’t blink as I held Kieran’s stare. The other wolven had reached the temple steps. I could hear the rolling thunder of their paws. “Not even you. Any of you. I will destroy every single one of you who stands between her and me.”

And I would. I would kill Kieran, my best friend, my brother. I would kill him if that was what it took.

My lips peeled back, showing my fangs, and Kieran’s growl turned deeper, primal. I prepared myself to fight—

“Stop,” Poppy ordered, “Kieran! Stop! You will not hurt Casteel.” Her voice echoed throughout the chamber. “All of you will stop. Now! None of you will attack.”

A switch flipped off. All of the wolves lowered their head, laying down on the temple floor.

“That… that was timely. Thank you for that.” Emil, looked at her in that way of his that made me want to rip his lips from his face.

Yeah he was going to die soon. No question about it.

My eyes were fixed on Poppy. She was glowing silver, bright like moonlight. She’d spoken like a true Queen. It was incredibly arousing. Uncomfortably arousing actually. I shifted on my feet.

“He will not hurt me, you know that.” She directed it towards Kieran and Jasper. “You told me he was the only person in both kingdom’s I was safe with. That hasn’t changed.”

Kieran nudged her with his nose. I could tell what he was trying to say. “You’re safe with me too.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, eyes closing.

“Just so you know,” I murmured, “What you just did? Said? Has me feeling all kinds of wildly inappropriate things at the moment.”

She laughed shakily, “There is something so wrong with you.”

Maybe there was something wrong with me. But, that didn’t change anything.

“I know.” My lips curved upward, “But you love that about me.”

She didn’t confirm it, but I could tell she agreed.

“You were glowing silver again. When you ordered the wolven to stop,” I told her. “Not a lot, not like before, but you looked like spun moonlight.”

She looked down at her hands, and her brow furrowed.

“I didn’t want any of this,” she whispered.

“I know,” I replied voice rough. I placed a palm over her cheek, the one that wasn’t swollen. I needed to take care of her. I needed— "I know Princess."

Her hair was tangled beneath my hand, her face bloody and streaked with dirt. And yet, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. “It’s okay. It’ll all be okay. I can promise you that.”

I couldn’t promise it to her. But I could sure as hell, protect her in any way I knew how. Any way that was possible.

I kissed her brow and then turned towards Emil. “Emil? Can you retrieve clothing from Delano’s and Kieran’s horses so they can shift and not scar anyone?”

“I’d be more than happy to do that,” he replied, leaving the temple. I watched him go, glad he was leaving. I couldn’t pay attention to Poppy when he was in the room. When he was right there just waiting for me to murder him.

“I think their nakedness will be the least scarring thing to happen today.” Poppy pointed out.

I said nothing, touching her cheek, and taking note of all her injuries. I wanted to kill them. I would’ve ripped them limb by limb had Poppy not already done that for me.

My Poppy, my beautiful Queen.

“They tried to stone you.”

There was a soft gasp from my mother, but I ignored it. I was still pretty mad at her.

“They accused me of working with the Ascended, and they called me a Soul Eater. I told them I wasn’t. I tried to talk to them.” Her hands lifted, presumably to touch me, but stopped midway. I couldn’t help but be disappointed.“I tried to reason with them, but they started throwing stones. I told them to stop. I said it was enough, and…I don’t know what I did—” She started to look over my shoulder, but I stopped her, not wanting her to look at the bodies. I knew from experience it would only make things a hell of a lot worse. “I didn’t mean to kill them.”

“You were defending yourself,” I reminded her. I wanted her to know it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her fault at all. “You did what you had to do. You were defending yourself.”

“But I didn’t touch them, Casteel,” Poppy whispered. “It was like in Spessa’s End, during the battle. Remember the soldiers who surrounded us? When they fell, I felt something in me. I felt that again here. It was like something inside me knew what to do. I took their anger and I—I did exactly what a Soul Eater would do. I took it from them and then gave it back.”

From somewhere behind me my mother said, “You are not a soul eater.” I didn’t want to gouge out her eyes as much anymore. “The moment the eather in your blood became visible, those who attacked you should’ve known exactly what you were. What you are.”

“Eather?” Poppy asked, gaze shifting back to me. I couldn’t help but be relieved. If she was asking questions she was okay… right?

“It’s what some would call magic,” I answered, and shifted my stance, so my mother couldn’t see Poppy. She didn’t need to be assaulted with questions by the former Queen. “You’ve seen it.” I reminded her.

“The mist?”

I nodded. “It’s the essence of the gods, what’s in their blood, what gives them their abilities and the power to create all that they have. No one really calls it that anymore, not since the gods went to sleep, and the deities died off.” My eyes searched hers, trying to figure out what she was feeling. It was times like these empath powers would have been useful. “I should have known. Gods, I should’ve seen it…”

“You can say that now,” my mother spoke. “But why would you have even thought that this would be a possibility? No one would’ve expected this.”

No. I hadn’t. But she had.

“Except for you.”

“I can explain,” she protested. She could explain, my ass.

Emil appeared carrying two saddlebags. Thankfully he had enough sense to give us all a wide berth, probably sensing the tension in the room.

“Apparently a lot needs to be explained,” I said, icily. “But it will have to wait.” I looked at Poppy’s left cheek, at her temple, at the blood. I needed her to be okay. “I need to get you somewhere safe where I can… Where I can take care of you.”

“You can take her to your old rooms at my place.” Jasper said, having shifted. Poppy looked over, and then blushed, probably realizing Jasper was naked. I tried not to laugh.

He handed a pair of breeches to me for Kieran. “That will do. Thank you.”

“Will it be safe for you there?”

I grinned. It was adorable how concerned she was for my safety. Though I kind of wished she would pay more attention to herself, seeing as she was bleeding.

“He’ll be safe there,” Kieran answered for me.

Poppy looked at him, and I was surprised to see she didn’t seem at all embarrassed that he was wearing no clothes. It made me kind of jealous. I handed him the pants.

“You were going to attack Casteel,” she accused.

Kieran nodded and took the pants.

“He most definitely was,” I confirmed.

“And you threatened to destroy him.” That one was—rightfully—directed at me.

I smiled just a bit, “I did.”

It was kind of funny in hindsight.

“Why are you smiling? That isn’t something that should make you smile.” She stared at me, and I immediately felt bad for smiling. I could tell she was holding back tears. “That can never happen again. Do you hear me?” She twisted to Kieran, who arched a brow as he pulled on the breeches. “Do you both hear me? I won’t allow it. I won’t—”

“Shh,” I touched her cheek, calming her. I felt awful. “It won’t happen again, Poppy,” I swept my thumb across a tear that had already fallen. We were close enough now that our chests touched. It was very distracting. “Right?” I asked Kieran.

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t…” He went quiet. I had no idea what he was going to say.

Jasper however, spoke up. “As long as the Prince doesn’t give us any reason to behave differently, we will protect him as fiercely as we will protect you.” I wouldn’t give them any reason to attack me if I had anything to say about it.

I felt something hit my chest and looked down to see Poppy with her face buried into my shirt. She took a long inhale. She did that sometimes when I was near, probably smelling me. I didn’t fault her for it though. The gods know how many times I’d done the exact same thing to reassure myself.

I folded my arm over her back, careful not to hurt her, breathing in the scent of honeydew. I shuddered.

“Wait,” Kieran said. “Where is Beckett? He was with you when you walked off.”

Beckett.

I drew back ever so slightly, “That’s right. He offered to show you the temple.” I narrowed my eyes, everything forgotten except Beckett. Beckett who had just moved to first place on my murder list. Okay maybe Emil was just a little bit ahead of him… but still. “He led you here.”

“He disappeared when the others showed up,” Poppy said reluctantly, “I don’t know where he went."

Yep, that settled it. Beckett was dead.

I turned to Delano, still in his wolven form. “Find Beckett,” I ordered, “Naill? Emil? Go with him. Make sure Beckett is brought to me alive.”

Poppy stiffened. I could tell she didn’t like this.

“He’s just a kid,” she said, “He was scared. And now that I think about it—”

“Poppy,” I interrupted, placing my hand just below the cut on her temple. I kissed it. “I have two things to say. If Beckett had anything to do with this, I don’t care what or who he is, and I sure as fuck don’t care about what he was feeling.” My voice rose, until everyone in the temple could hear me. This needed to be heard.

“A move against my wife is a proclamation of war against me . Their fate is already sealed. And, secondly?” I leaned down further towards her, brushing my lips against hers. Her scent heightened almost imperceptibly. I knew exactly what we were doing tonight.

I turned my head to the side and pointed to the only wolven who remained, now standing on two legs, “ You .”

#the crown of gilded bones #tcogb #tcogb spoilers #from blood and ash #a kingdom of flesh and fire #jennifer l armentrout #jla #fantasy #fandom #fanfic #poppy balfour #casteel da'neer #king of blood and ash #queen of flesh and fire #kieran contou #jasper contou #poppy x casteel

23 notes · View notes

rainygothherowolf · 3 years

Text

Jasonette/Daminette- Little Sister Pt.2

Previous ~ Here ~ Next

Marinette was in the kitchen, preparing herself some hot chocolate. After the drama at Wayne tower, Jason insisted she stay with his family. Her older brother seemed to loathe the class with a passion, refusing to let her near them. Marinette's parents were hesitant at first, not trusting some random Gotham boy to take care of their daughter but eventually they were persuaded. Where she would be staying was definitely a factor, where could be safer?

"I don't see how you could stand to drink such sugary poison." Damian stated making her jump, he was right behind her. He reached past Marinette and to the cupboard she was in front of. He grabbed a teacup before pulling his arm back, his eyes never straying from her own.

"Well then... what do you suggest I drink?" Marinette's hot chocolate sat on the counter behind her, forgotten, as she turned and faced Damian. The Parisian crossed her arms defiantly, Damian looked down at her like she was a cute puppy.

"Tea has been known to calm frayed nerves, perhaps I could prepare you some?"

"W-why would I need to calm down? I feel perfectly fine!" Marinette declared, refusing to give in. Her stubbornness seemed to amuse Damian, he reached out and just barely brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.

"Well, you've been blushing since you noticed I was here, for one. Now, would you like some tea? How do you take it?"

"I don't usually have tea. I tried making myself some a few times but always thought it tasted like bitter water."

"You haven't had my tea yet." Damian challenged, "You wouldn't be scared to try something I made, would you?" Marinette was coherent enough to see what he was doing, even if his imposing and, frankly, distracting physique was only a hair's breadth away.

"Only if you have my hot chocolate. Or are you scared of the 'sugary poison'?" Marinette offered, Damian leaned his head down just a fraction of an inch closer to Marinette before catching himself pulling away. He retreated back a few feet before turning to the sink.

"Alright then, it's a deal. I'll try the wretched holiday drink if you have my tea." Damian spoke with his back to her as he filled a kettle with water.

"Deal." Marinette agreed before heading to refrigerator, she's get him to admit her hot chocolate was good. No one called her favorite drink 'wretched' and got away with it.

"Deal." Damian reaffirmed.

By the time the drinks were done Marinette was thirsty, she would have had her own hot chocolate but Damian demanded she leave it, claiming it would cloud her pallet. She rolled her eyes at that but by the time she finally got past Damian's joking defense the drink was cold.

Marinette sipped from her cup first, Damian watched, both amused and attentive as she took a sip of the tea.

He laughed at her wrinkled nose, just for a moment- one could hardly call it a chuckle, before adding the cream.

"Try it now." Marinette looked at Damian hesitantly before taking another sip, this time he noticed her relax as a small smile graced her lips. Damian smirked at his little victory.

"Alright, your turn Monsieur." Damian rolled his eyes as Marinette watched him lift the mug. He felt she looked over excited for something so silly but found it strangely endearing.

The warm, smooth liquid made it's way past his lips and while it was a little too sweet for his liking, it was still good and he told her so.

"Fine, it was adequate." Marinette rolled her eyes before taking a taunting step toward him.

"Yeah right! That was some of my best work, you don't get to get away with calling it 'adequate'" Damian scoffed, taking a more intimidating step towards the short girl, one upping her in their little game of chicken.

"Then what do you suggest I call something I found too sweet but bearable?"

"Good! You call it good, it's important to be polite, Damian!" Marinette took another step forward forgetting how close they already were, refusing to back down. Damian had to look further down than usual to meet Marinette's passionately determined eyes.

He took his opportunity, using his right hand to tilt her chin upwards, smiling slightly, only slightly. They were so close, he could feel the warmth of her body from where he stood. Damian was about to speak when they saw someone walk into the kitchen, it was Jason.

The teenagers separated themselves quickly but it was too late, the damage was already done. The taller boy immediately scooped Marinette up and slung her over his shoulder. Jason was glaring daggers at a smug Damian before waking out of the room with Marinette. Damian waved goodbye to a blushing Parisian, she followed her old brothers lead and glared at the annoyingly smug boy.

The rest of Marinette's stay was an amusing balance between getting to know the Wayne's, spending time with Jason, and sneaking off with an unrepentant Damian.

Whenever Jason was around they kept their distance but were caught more than enough times.

"And you eat this?" Damian asked, bewildered at how anyone could consume something so unhealthy.

"Yes. It isn't that bad if you have it every once in a while. Sometimes the calories are worth it! Worth the satisfaction of indulgence." Damian scoffed from his seat on the counter opposite to Marinette, who was baking chocolate chip cookies.

"Why don't you help me? That way they're done sooner." Marinette offered, not realizing how disastrous the question was.

"I think it would be best if I didn't. Things tend to go wrong when me or my siblings attempt to do anything in the kitchen." Marinette giggled, she thought Damian was great. He was a good listener, funny, smart, and on top of that he was drop-dead-gorgeous. Marinette knew he wasn't just being friendly, no, he'd made his intentions perfectly clear when they first met but she didn't want to become a problem. Jason seemed to hate the idea, so she did her best to keep it friendly- unfortunately, Damian was persistent.

"It's just rolling the dough into balls, it's not even real cooking!" Marinette countered and Damian relented, getting up and watching her roll the dough before following suit.

At first, everything went suspiciously well. Damian did a good job rolling the dough and there was a period of comfortable silence, the problem with that was that it was too comfortable. Marinette began to hum, softly at first before it got a little louder. Damian didn't comment but eventually Marinette realized what she had done and blushed, her hands going to her head- accidentally getting flour on Damian's (NOT distracting) tight black turtleneck.

Marinette apologized repeatedly but noticed Damian was trying to smother his laughter.

"What? What is it?" The Parisian demanded, her accent thickening as she got more and more worried about what he was laughing at. As it turned out, the in her state of embarrassment she had not only dirtied Damian but also herself. She had cookie dough smeared across both cheeks. She blushed a deep red, making the cookie dough even more visible.

Eventually, Marinette moved past her embarrassment and spoke to a working Damian as he loaded the cookies in the oven.

"Oh Damian~" The boy turned, his eyes still amused.

"Ye-" Damian was cut off by a cloud of flour, she'd thrown the powdery substance at him as he turned. While blinded by the thick cloud of white Marinette was able to get close enough to get some cookie dough on his forehead.

"Oh it is on, little one, and I don't loose." They spent the next ten minutes throwing flour, extra dough, and water at each other, in a world of their own.

Reality didn't come crashing down on the teens until they saw the flash of a camera.

It was Tim and Stephanie.

Marinette blushed as she tried to dust the flour off herself, embarrassed that she'd made such a mess in someone else's home. Damian seemed to be torn between being amused at Marinette's embarrassment and trying to salvage what was left of his reputation.

"Jason's gonna lose it."

"Todd doesn't need to know."

"What's in it for us?" Stephanie countered, using her hand to lower Tim's hand as he tried to call Jason.

"Cookies?" Just as Marinette spoke the timer went off and she went to take the treats out of the oven. The warm chocolate-y smell filled the room as both Steph and Tim began to drool.

"Todd doesn't need to know?"

"Jason doesn't need to know." Tim seconded as Marinette fanned the cookies. When they were cool she handed them all the cookies on a plate. All but one that she negotiated for Damian to try.

Dick, Tim, Steph, Selina, even Bruce found it hilarious, they understood why Jason hated it, but they also saw that she brought out the best in Damian. It pissed Jason off, Marinette was off limits. Damian was frustrated because had Jason not been so annoying he'd have asked her out already, but watching the second robin get so riled up also made the chase that much more fun (not that Damian would even consider perusing her without her explicit encouragement).

Damian was taking Titus out for a walk on the grounds when he heard a familiar hum, he followed the high, sweet tune to the rose gardens where a small Parisian sat, sketching.

Marinette sat on a small bench for two, her hair in loose waves. She wore a black skirt that ended just above her knees and a deep red halter top with matching red flats. She looked stunning, surrounded by the vibrant rose bushes. He studied her for a moment more before making his presence known.

"What are you drawing?" Damian asked as he approached the girl. Marinette wasn't as jumpy as when they first met, getting used to his sudden appearances.

"A new design, a dress." Everyone knew she wanted to be a designer but no one knew she was MDC yet. Marinette convinced herself that was because it hadn't come up yet but in reality she was embarrassed. She'd heard Tim say they were his favorite designer and that if he ever met them he'd either fall in love (Stephanie slapped him across the head at that) or pass out.

Marinette didn't look up until Damian's shadow blocked the light. Marinette decided to tease him and ignore the boy in favor of his dog.

"Hello again, Titus! What a good boy, so cute!" She poured all her attention onto the animal who took it in stride. Damian didn't like being ignored but humored her, petting Titus.

"You like to design." It wasn't a question, Damian remembered what Grayson told him about conversation. He tried to find a relevant topic that would allow him to compliment her.

"May I see your sketch?" Damian asked, still paying attention to Titus. Marinette blushed as she quickly shut her sketchbook.

"Uh... hehe- maybe another day." Her logo was on the corner of each page and Marinette didn't want to risk it. Damian thought she looked adorable, blushing deeply, but he also thought it was uncalled for- he hadn't begun his teasing yet. This caught his attention and curiosity, he had to see the book.

"What? Why are you blushing?" Damian teased but he saw she was getting uncomfortable, he had done it in good fun but he saw he'd overstepped.

"Apologies- I'm sorry if I crossed a line I was just teasing, you don't have to show me- I didn't mean it." Damian was at a loss, he didn't think before he spoke and ended up stringing together apology after apology. Marinette giggled.

"It's okay, you don't have to blush!" Damian hadn't even noticed how hot his face was, this only embarrassed him further.

"Oh~ Do you need some tea? To calm the nerves?" Marinette teased, earning a half-assed glare from Damian, who was still trying to fight his blush. Finally, he got it under control. Despite the sidetrack Damian persisted, trying to start up another conversation just like Grayson told him to. He sat next to Marinette on the bench.

"The gardens are beautiful this time of year, are they not?" Damian offered. Marinette hummed in agreement, studying her surroundings before her eyes met Damian's.

"Breathtaking." Damian complimented, making Marinette blush heavily. Damian glanced at her full, pale rose lips, unconsciously licking his own. The Parisian seemed to notice and she tilted her head upward slightly, only slightly, with her eyes half-closed.

Damian summoned his courage and leaned in closer, they both closed their eyes. Just as they were about to close the gap, his hand was about to hold her check. Damian swore he felt her soft lips barely brush his when they heard Jason yell.

"AH! Get off her! NOPE NOPE NOPE!" Jason was a few meters away but both teens obeyed, embarrassed. Jason grabbed Marinette’s hand and quickly, but carefully, pulled his little sister away from Damian. "From now on, you two aren't allowed in the same room anymore. Except diner. Keep away from Nettie, Demon Brat."

Damian saw Jason's face, this wasn't just because he thought it was weird to see Damian try to date someone he saw as family- no, it was something else entirely. It was because he saw Marinette as too good, too pure for Damian.

Jason didn't want Marinette to be dragged into the mess that was Damian's life.

Jason didn't want Marinette to suffer because Damian didn't know how to deal with his emotions.

Jason didn't want Marinette to be hurt by Damian, he didn't want to see someone he loved hurt. It wasn't just because it was Damian, it was because he didn't want to see Marinette's heart get broken.

Damian, shockingly, backed off- hardly even acknowledging the girl on the few occasions they crossed paths. He wasn't outwardly rude like he was with his siblings but Marinette seemed to catch on. At first she was a little dejected but was adamant about keeping positive.

Jason spent as much time as possible with his little sister, making sure to watch movies, tour the city, and just hang out all the time. He also made sure that she got to know the rest of the family, except Damian. And the fourth robin let it happen, he kept to himself and let her spend time with everyone else.

And then family night reared it's ugly head.

Marinette was sitting with Alfred the Cat and Cass on the sofa, Jason on a chair near Marinette, waiting for everyone else to arrive for the movie.

The Parisian beamed when she met Kor'i and Mar'i, quickly bonding with both. Marinette was quickly dubbed Auntie Nettie by an Auntie Steph and Uncle Timmy. Dick was about to play the first movie when Kor'i spoke up.

"Where is the little D?"

"Yeah! Where's Uncle Dami?" A four year old Mar'i asked from her father's lap. Jason scoffed, he was about to speak when someone walked in.

"Has anyone seen Alfred the Cat?" Damian asked, before he saw Jason and Marinette. Damian was about to say never mind- noticing Alfred purring in Marinette's arms, but Mar'i beat him to it.

"Uncle Dami!" The half Tamaranian announced, jumping from the couch and flying into her uncle's arms. Marinette was quick to catch onto the families nightly activities and let them catch her talking to Tikki. Jason clearly wasn't happy, neither was Damian, but on the bright side they didn't have any secrets. Kor'i and Mar'i were briefly discussed but Marinette didn't pry.

"It's been forever, like a whole week! You have to come watch the movie with us, it's family night! You can sit next to Marinette! Isn't she pretty? And nice?" Mar'i chattered and waited for Damian to respond.

"Yes, she is very nice." Damian spoke as carried his niece to her father who gave him an encouraging smile before Damian sat between Marinette and Cass. Mar'i spoke up just before Dick could play the movie.

"And pretty! Right Uncle Dami? Isn't she really pretty? Like momma!" Kor'i gave her daughter a quick kiss on the cheek, distracting the girl from Damian and Marinette's panic- and Jason's low growl.

Dick played the movie and gently shushed his daughter, stopping her from asking Damian again. Telling her she did a good job and would get extra popcorn.

The movie was some children's story that Damian couldn't seem to pay attention to, all he could seem to think about was the Parisian next to him- cuddling Alfred the Cat with her knees practically tucked to her chest, her back to him.

Damian took notice of Marinette's drooping shoulders and yawns as the movie progressed, but he hadn't expected for her to suddenly turn and cuddle onto his side, grabbing his arm as she and Alfred slept. Jason clearly didn't like it but Marinette was immovable, sleeping peacefully against a tense Damian. The boy did everything in his power to not sink into the warm sofa and nap alongside her, exhausted. He fought his tired eyes as best he could but it was a losing battle.

Eventually the movie faded away, his head rested upon something soft.

Jason wanted to be mad, he wanted to move Marinette so she rested against him- she always used to as a little girl but he saw she was clinging to Damian, whether it was intentional or not. Jason knew Damian hadn't done anything to give Marinette reason to cuddle him, finally understanding that Jason just didn't want to see Marinette hurt. Unfortunately, neither could do anything about it.

Jason also knew he couldn't blame Damian for passing out, knowing as well as anyone that finals and patrol were a bad mix but that didn't mean he didn't want to slap him for passing out and unconsciously cuddling with Marinette.

Alfred the cat eventually woke from his nap and moved from his warm spot between the two teenagers and left the room to do only God knows what. The sudden lack of warmth seemed to stir both Marinette and Damian. The Parisian whined softly as she nuzzled closer to Damian, her legs ended up across his lap as they snuggled closer. Jason clenched his fists and jaw before bringing his attention back to the movie, trying to think of what to do.

By the time the movie ended, Jason was at a loss- at some point Cass left the room so Damian and Marinette were literally lying on each other, limbs entangled as they slept, blissfully unaware of their compromising position. Everyone softly laughed and took pictures of Damian sleeping and Marinette lying carefully on top of him, his arms wrapped around her with her head tucked under his chin. Their their legs tangled.

"Jay, I'm sorry but they're so cute together. And they really seem to like each other, I know it's weird for you but let them be." Dick tried, he'd been rooting for them since Damian started to ask about how to start a conversation, lines you don't cross, how to tell if a subject is off limits. The first robin prayed to whatever god was out there that his brother would finally see that their dating wouldn't be the end of the world.

"I know." Jason noticed Damian back off when he realized why Jason didn't want them to date, it wasn't just because Damian was an ass, if something ever happened to Damian- Marinette would be a mess and he couldn't stand to see the broken look in her eyes ever again. Jason knew it was a shitty reason, she'd probably be a mess no matter what, but he couldn't help it. He just wanted to protect Marinette. Jason finally knew what to do, but until then he'd let them sleep.

Jason walked out of the room, annoyed- the brat won. Damn their stubbornness. Hopefully it would make Damian more bearable...

Damian woke up with the sun, but for once wanted to stay in bed. He was warm, and a calming, steady breathing tried to lull him back to sleep- wait. Why would he feel someone else's breathing?

Damian's eyes snapped open and scanned the room, he was lying in the living room with a blanket on him and- 'No. No. No. Of all the times to pass out, of all the people-'

Damian's mind went into overdrive trying to remember how he'd gone from sitting with Marinette leaning on him to falling asleep with her. He knew he was dead, but suddenly his mind focused on the even sound of her breathing, she was still sleeping- dead to the world. There was no reason to wake her, so Damian closed his eyes, pulled Marinette closer, and allowed himself to go back to sleep. Enjoying his last moments in the land of the living.

Something made a noise, Damian opened his eyes again. This time Marinette awoke with him, propping herself up on his chest and rubbing her eyes with a tired yawn.

"Good morning." Marinette froze at the sound of Damian's deep, rough, sleep-filled voice as she took in a messy haired, tired Damian. She blushed, hard, morning Damian was officially her favorite Damian.

"D-Damian- w-what happe- did I- I'm so sorry!" Marinette sat up, not thinking about what she was doing. She continued to apologize while Damian panicked, if Jason walked in right now- he'd die for the second time. Breaking the family record, sure, but that certainly wouldn't be worth it. Well... No, not worth it- unless someone brought him back again... No, no, Todd would likely make it painful. Definitely not worth it.

"Marinette-"

"No, this is totally my fault! I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean to fall asleep on you, you were probably really uncomfortable with me leaning on you like that!"

"Marinette really it's alri-"

"No, Damian! It's not alright, I- Jay probably got really mad at you, I'll- I'll talk to him make sure he knows it wasn't your fault."

"Marinette?" The Parisian seemed to be done with her ranting and was staring at Damian again, she for some reason, hadn't noticed earlier but Damian wasn't wearing a shirt. In Marinette's sleepy state she just stared unabashedly. Damian's voice seemed to get her attention.

"Perhaps you shouldn't sit like that..." Damian refused to call it what it was. Had he wanted to be more accurate, and he didn't, he would have asked her to stop straddling him.

Marinette froze, blushed, and then started whining in embarrassment. Her head in her hands. Damian was having a difficult time holding back his own blush but was managing alright.

"Marinette?" Damian asked, she peaked out from between her hands and realized she had yet to get off him, finally he sat up on his own and gently pushed her off him. They sat next to each other, Damian refused to look at Marinette in her beautifully flustered state.

Jason walked in with his arms crossed, he leaned against the door-frame.

"Awake are we?" He asked, not expecting an answer, he didn't get one.

"Well, Demon Spawn, let's just say your reputation is effectively ruined. Steph and Selina got more than enough pictures to get even you to blush." The two teenagers refused to look at Jason, he pinched the bridge of his nose, letting his annoyance surface.

"I can't even-" Damian waited for the inevitable outburst, for once. " I can't believe I'm fucking doing this- You two were cute or whatever but word of the wise, brat- hurt her and I'll kill you. Got it?" Both teenagers heads snapped up, Marinette blushed. Damian nodded a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

'FINALLY' Was the only thing Damian thought in that moment before he began to plan how to ask her out. He needs to speak to Grayson again, unfortunately.

And with that, their banter and teases began again. This time there was no bribery to keep Damian's siblings quiet and no Jason to stop their kisses. The young couple went on dates, watched movies, laughed at the put off look Damian’s family would have when he said something awkwardly funny. Of course, Jason was still insistent on sibling bonding, stealing Marinette as often as possible- that became their new game: who could get Marinette for the day.

Of course, there were some close calls. Jason had walked in on Damian and Marinette kissing... for an extended period of time... he stood frozen and watched in horror as they made out on a chair in Damian's room, Marinette's hands in Damian's hair with his hands at her hips, keeping her pressed against him as her legs bracketed his hips.

Damian noticed Jason first, immediately pushing away and inwardly cursing. Marinette blushed furiously and had to stop Jason from killing Damian but her messy hair and slightly swollen lips didn't help.

Of course, everyone else thought it was hilarious.

As they say, all good things must come to an end. After three weeks of freedom from her class, their trip finally came to an end and so did Marinette's reunion. By the end of her stay Marinette knew why she'd be okay, from now on she had a family four times as big as before. The Parisian couldn't be happier: she reunited with her brother and has an adoring boyfriend. All she had to do now was survive the last few weeks of the school year before transferring to Mme Mandeleiev's class.

I’m gonna be okay, Marinette thought that to herself as they made their way to the airport. Damian didn't want her to leave, no one did, he held Marinette's hand while she spoke to Jason who promised to visit often.

Everyone hugged her goodbye or said so from a respectful distance before she passed through security and rejoined her class.Both Damian and Jason glared at the class in warning, they still seemed to be reeling from the discovery that the Italian was a liar. People called out to the girl, shouting apologies. Marinette just walked past as if she couldn’t hear a thing.

And then she was gone. Damian and Jason pouted, they already missed her, luckily summer was right around the corner. They'd get her to visit soon, or if they had to they'd go to Paris.

After all, family is supposed to stick together. And despite their attempts at denying it, they were clingy.

#Daminette #DamianWayne #JasonTodd #Jasonette #Maribat #Miraculous #MiraculousLadybug #AU #LittleSisterAU #Pt2 #DC #Robin #Ladybug #Batfam #Zagg #MarinetteDupain-Cheng #Corssover #Fanfic

123 notes · View notes