#(including the lady who once asked if I were one of the then-pregnant women and can't remember my name etc.) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queenshelby · 3 years

Text

ME AND THE DEVIL – PART TWO

Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Words: 6,459

Warnings: Smut, Mention of Domestic Abuse and Racism

Tag List (Tommy Shelby):

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @captivatedbycillianmurphy @fookingshelby @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang @0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph

-------

The Charity

Usually, you didn’t accompany your husband to political events but, tonight, was different. It was a big night in Westminster.

One of the judges from the Queen’s Bench invited several members of parliament to a charity ball. The ball was hosted by the judge at his rather large mansion which he inherited from his father who was a well-known politician before he passed before the First World War.

The judge was a smart man but had recently fallen under the spell of your husband. He favoured national socialism after the stock market crash in the previous year and your husband’s ideals aligned with his.

It was of the upmost importance for your husband that you attend this function with him. It was all about appearances and, since the judge believed in the value of marriage, Oswald wanted to present himself as the perfect husband to his young wife.

Most importantly, the judge wanted to fund Oswald’s campaign with the view to gain power if your husband’s movement gained enough traction. Oswald wanted you to befriend the judge’s wife to ensure that the funding would be forthcoming.

The judge’s wife was a lady and rather wealthy herself. She was also involved in charitable organisations and you had her before, but only briefly.

Despite some familiar faces, there were also people who attended the ball who, apparently, you hadn’t met before. Or have you?

Just after you entered the large mansion and were greeted by the host, your husband introduced you to his acquaintances, one of whom in particular caught your interest.

‘Y/N, may I introduce you to my acquaintance Mr Thomas Shelby, the deputy leader of the British Union of Fascists’ Oswald said, causing your heart to skip a beat. You knew from Ada since your last encounter that Tommy was a politician. But, you had no idea that he was a fascist and member of your husband’s party.

‘Mr Shelby, this is my wife, Y/N Mosley’ he added in which moment Tommy’s looked at you as if he had seen a ghost.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs Mosley’ he said after clearing his throat. It was obvious to you that he had to quickly collected his thoughts.

‘Likewise, Mr Shelby’ you said as you shook his hand. You remembered his large and masculine hands. In fact, you remembered them very well. They were doing amazing and pleasurable things to you.

‘Would you like me to get your wife a drink while you arrange the meeting with Judge Kutchner. I could introduce her to my wife and they could talk about the upcoming charity event, eh?’ Tommy asked your husband as he had been inundated by several invitees of the host.

‘That is very thoughtful of you, Mr Shelby. I would appreciate it’ your husband said politely.

‘Alright then. Follow me, Mrs Mosley’ Tommy said as he took your hand like a gentleman and walked with you towards a group of women who included his wife Elizabeth Shelby and the judge’s wife Marianne.

‘Did you know that I was Oswald’s wife when you made an advance towards me?’ you asked curiously as he walked with you across the dancehall.

‘Of course not. Otherwise, I would not have touched you’ Tommy said with a serious face and somewhat flustered, causing you to giggle.

‘What’s so fucking funny, eh?’ he asked.

‘Nothing. It’s nothing’ you said, still giggling.

‘I don’t see the humour in this Y/N. What you are doing is dangerous. Your husband is a dangerous man. But I am sure you know this’ Tommy said firmly as he stopped near the champaign fountain before handing you a glass of champaign.

‘What I am doing is it dangerous? If I recall correctly, it was you who kissed me first’ you said.

‘Yes, which I did before I knew who you were married to. You could have fucking told me, eh’ Tommy said.

‘Well, if it’s any consolation to you, I didn’t know you were my husband’s acquaintance in business. In fact, I didn’t really take you to be a fascist when I met you. What is it that you are doing for the orphanage anyway? Wiping clean your conscience after supporting racism and cheating on your wife?’ you asked sharply as you quickly drank the entire glass of champaign.

Tommy grinned at you. He was carrying a sheepish smile across his face.

‘I don’t have a conscience Love. I do bad things. That’s just who I am. But, by listening to you, I take it that you do not support your husband’s cause Mrs Mosley?’ Tommy said as if he was asking a question.

‘Well, Mr Shelby, despite of you what you are telling me here, I don’t think that you do either’ you said firmly, but Tommy ignored your comment entirely as you finally approached the group of women he was intending to introduce you to.

‘I would prefer if our little indiscretion at the library could stay between us eh’ Tommy whispered.

‘Agreed’ you sighed quietly just before Tommy introduced you to his wife Lizzie.

You talked to Lizzie for a quite some time and you could tell that Lizzie and Tommy had problems of their own. Their marriage was a marriage for show just like yours and Oswald’s marriage. Lizzie hated to be at this event just as much as you did and you soon became to learn of her past from your husband, who felt it necessary to tell you. He also saw the need to tell you that, many years ago, he slept with Lizzie when she was still a prostitute and you became to wonder about Tommy’s motives involving himself in the fascist movement. How could he work with your husband after your husband acted the way he did, rubbing his past relations with Lizzie into Tommy’s face every chance he got.

But, perhaps Tommy didn’t care. After all, it was evident to you that Tommy had married Lizzie simply because he had to. Their child was born just after they were married and in a position like his, you could not have children with someone who you weren’t married to. It was the norm and common practice.

In some way, you were thankful that you weren’t able to conceive even following many attempts by your husband to get you pregnant. At least this way, you were hopeful that, once your husband’s party gained power, he would decide to leave you for another woman. Divorce was less frowned upon if you didn’t have children. After all, who could deny an important man like him to have children of his own if his wife was infertile.

With these thoughts running through your head, the remainder of the evening went somewhat uneventful and you and your husband left at around midnight.

After you went to bed, he arranged for a prostitute to come by the house. This wasn’t unusual and it didn’t bother you. In fact, you switched off to the sounds he made when sleeping with another woman in your house. Sometimes you felt as though he was doing it in order to hurt you since you weren’t a very attentive wife. But you didn’t care. In fact, that night, your thoughts were lying entirely with a different man. His acquaintance, Thomas Shelby, by whom you were intrigued by despite his association with the party.

Little did you know that, soon, you would meet him again in a familiar location.

The Library

It was a week after your last encounter with Tommy at the charity ball that you decided to continue your work at the orphanage library.

You’ve been stacking books on shelves all day until, at 4 o’clock in the afternoon, you saw a familiar face.

‘Mr Shelby, what a surprise’ you said as you finished packing up the last of the books and noticed Tommy walking towards you through the library hall.

‘Good Evening Mrs Mosely’ he said as he approached you.

‘Good Evening….What are you doing here?’ you asked politely.

‘I had a meeting in the area and thought I would stop by to see how the library is coming along’ Tommy said, keeping his distance from you this time around.

‘Oh, I see, your conscience is playing tricks on you Mr Shelby, eh?’ you said sheepishly, causing Tommy to laugh.

‘Perhaps…’ Tommy said before taking a pause. ‘This is for you Y/N. I thought you might like it’ Tommy said as he handed you a book entitled ‘Changing the way we think – A contemporary view on the Revolution’.

‘Well, thank you Mr Shelby. But please enlighten me as to why are you are gifting this to me? I am sure you know that this book favours communism’ you asked.

‘It became obvious to me that this would take your interest and I suppose that I have a conscience after all. In fact, I felt as though I needed to apologise to you for my actions during our last encounter here at the library’ Tommy said.

‘I am delighted to hear that you are taking some responsibility for what happened between us Tommy’ you laughed. ‘And, I accept your apology’ you added with slight giggle before asking him whether it was ok for you to call him by his first name when your husband wasn’t around. You hated formalities.

Tommy agreed and told you that he had to leave shortly. According to him, he had business matters to attend to.

‘Can you stay for one drink at least? I have Whiskey’ you said.

‘Sure. I suppose why not’ Tommy said as he sat down on a chair near the desk in between the stack of books that haven’t been sorted yet.

You pulled out a small bottle of Irish Whiskey and two glasses from behind one of the shelves.

‘My husband doesn’t allow me to drink anything but champaign at public events. However, unbeknownst to him, I would, occasionally, indulge on a glass of his very expensive whiskey after work with your sister Ada’ you said sheepishly as you poured you both a glass.

‘Well, don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me’ Tommy smirked as he took one of the glasses from your hands.

‘Now, Y/N, I am intrigued. Did you actually choose to marry Oswald Mosley?’ Tommy asked.

‘No, I didn’t. But he chose to marry me. My father is the chief of police in London which should explain to you why I was his chosen wife’ you explained. ‘Although, no doubt, you are also aware that he would, on occasion, choose other women to keep him company as well’ you said shyly.

‘I’ve heard your stepmother is one of those other women he chooses to interact with privately on occasion. Is that true?’ Tommy asked sheepishly.

‘You know it is’ you laughed.

‘And it does not bother you?’ Tommy asked.

‘That my husband fucks my stepmother, my sister and every second whore in London? No, it does not bother me. At least this way he keeps his hands of me’ you said with a laugh.

‘I consider your husband’s taste when it comes to women rather questionable’ Tommy chuckled.

‘And why is that?’ you asked.

‘Because he’s got you. What does he want these other women for, eh?’ Tommy said.

‘Because he likes variety. Despite, I cannot give him a child. He said I am not worth his attention or effort’ you said after taking a deep breath.

‘The bruises, on your arms and neck, was this him then?’ Tommy asked, causing you to nod, small tears beginning to run down your face.

‘Yes, we argued and when I do not agree with him then this is what happens’ you said rather upset.

‘I am sorry’ Tommy said as he handed you his handkerchief so that you could wipe away your tears.

‘Are you? Because you seem to be reinforcing his ideals and you aren’t exactly faithful towards your wife either’ you said.

‘Perhaps you have gotten the wrong idea about me Y/N. And, for what it’s worth, me and my wife have an arrangement in place which permits me to be with other women. I would never hurt her. Also, no doubt you are already aware as to why I married her, eh?’ Tommy asked.

‘So, you don’t love your wife?’ you asked.

‘No, I don’t love my wife. But I trust and respect her and I promised her that I will agree with her request for a divorce after the elections. Perhaps your husband would be prepared to do the same’ Tommy said.

‘I think you know my husband better than that Mr Shelby’ you chuckled. ‘He will never let me go unless I am buried in the ground’ you said.

‘You might be surprised Y/N. I know that he’s taken an interest in another woman who supports his ideals’ Tommy said.

‘Well, perhaps there is hope for me then Tommy…’ you said before taking a deep breath.

‘You know, I often overhear Oswald talking, over the phone. He recently made allies in Germany and he is getting involved with the right-wing party over there which seems to be gaining popularity. I am not sure whether you are aware of this Tommy’ you said.

‘Why are you telling me this Y/N?’ Tommy asked, his face serious.

‘Because I can help you’ you said.

‘Help me with what, eh?’ Tommy asked.

‘With information. I have researched you after our encounter at the ball and, in the course of my research, I met a woman named Jesse Eden who was present in Birmingham during the assassination attempt on my husband. The man they believed to be the shooter was in France with you and, unlike my husband, I do not believe in coincidences’ you said.

‘What you are alleging is absurd and you need to be careful when dealing with Jesse Eden. You should not involve yourself with the communists behind your husband’s back’ Tommy said.

‘Thomas, my husband beats me and treats me like a common whore. I have nothing to lose’ you said.

Tommy took a deep breath following your comment. He was speechless over the lack of fear in your eyes.

For some reason, he trusted you and you reminded him a lot of his late wife Grace when he first met her. You were young and determined to do the right thing and, looking at you, took Tommy back in time when he allowed himself to become vulnerable and let his feelings control him.

It wasn’t something that Tommy wanted to admit to himself, but he cared for you in the most obscure way. After France, this was a rare occurrence but, in this moment, Tommy’s feelings of guilt and desire for you took over his reasonable thinking mind.

‘Can you get a copy of the call records from the phone at your house from the directory?’ Tommy asked, causing you to nod.

‘Alright, then perhaps we can help each other, eh? Meet me tomorrow at 7 o’clock at the steel factory on Watery Lane’ Tommy said.

‘If my husband is home, I cannot leave at that hour’ you responded.

‘I will make sure that he won’t be home until the early hours of the morning’ Tommy said.

You agreed with Tommy’s request and, over the next few days, you were carefully collection the records he had requested.

The Factory

At 6 o’clock, your husband left the house to meet with a woman. You were certain that Tommy had arranged this, but you didn’t mind.

You quickly put on your coat and got into your Bentley which was parked behind the house.

The drive took you thirty minutes and you arrived at Watery Lane slightly early.

The factory door was open and you walked inside, making sure that no one saw you.

‘Did anyone follow you?’ Tommy asked after he greeted you, causing you to shake your head.

You followed Tommy through the building. Not a single person was inside. It was only you and Tommy and Tommy was quick to take you to his office on the upper floor.

His office was large with a brown cedar desk in the middle of it and a dark red leather lounge, a brown cedar table and two leather chairs on the side beneath a large window.

He had lidded the fire in his office and it was obvious to you that he had been working from his office for quite some time before you got there.

You sat down on the lounge and took off your coat, placing it over one of the arm chairs.

‘You are hurt’ Tommy said as he observed another large bruise on your arm.

‘It’s fine Tommy, I am used to it. Perhaps I am just weak’ you said as some tears were running down your cheeks as you opened your bag and pulled out a piece of paper.

You handed the paper to Tommy. It contained the phone records from the last three days.

‘I will make this right Y/N. I promise’ Tommy said as he sat down next you.

Tommy handed you a glass of whiskey and took the piece of paper from you before wiping your tears away with his thumbs.

‘Jesse Eden was right’ you chuckled as you took a sip of the whiskey he had given you.

‘About what?’ Tommy asked.

‘That, deep down inside, you are a man with morals’ you said as you gently touched his cheek, catching him by surprise.

‘And you are stronger than you think Y/N’ Tommy said before giving you a gentle smile which was somewhat unusual coming from Tommy.

In that moment, you remembered your kiss and the short period of intimacy between you several weeks earlier, an accident of some sort and an escape from reality for you.

Where would things have gone if he didn’t ask your name and if you never knew his? Would you have broken your vows again by now, the vows that meant nothing to you?

‘You know Tommy, I just want to feel something for once in my life. Feel desired, loved and wanted. Perhaps I am just being selfish fighting this fight against my husband but I want more from life than just being married to a man like him’ you said.

‘Y/N, this has nothing to do with being selfish. You are doing the right thing. It’s for the greater good of many people. You will be free of him one day and, when you are, you will get to experience everything that you deserve. Desire, love, everything you want. I promise’ Tommy said as he cupped your face gently.

‘Tommy, the truth is that I don’t want to wait any longer to feel all these things. I know that I might not actually get out of this alive if my husband finds out that I betray him and I don’t want to miss out’ you said.

‘So, what are you suggesting?’ Tommy asked.

‘Make me feel desired Thomas, please’ you said with need in your eyes. ‘I know you want to be with me. I’ve seen it in your eyes and I felt it that day at the library’ you said.

Tommy knew that this was a very bad idea, but he wanted you as much as you wanted him. He wanted you since the day he met you at the orphanage. You intrigued him just the way Grace intrigued him when she first started to work at the Garrison.

After taking a deep breath and unable to hold back his desire any longer, he leaned in and kissed you gently but passionately.

His soft lips pressed against yours while his hands caressed your face gently. It was unlike any other kiss you had ever experienced.

‘Is this what you want?’ Tommy asked as he broke the kiss for a moment.

‘This and so much more Tommy, please’ you said as you crashed your lips back onto his.

You had only ever been with one man before and this was your husband, who was brutal and hadn’t pleasured you, not even once. It was all about him when he forced himself on you and, luckily for you, the last time he made you sleep with him was almost a year ago.

With Tommy, you could feel desire. It was mutual desire for each other.

‘Alright…just another secret to add to our list of secrets, eh?’ Tommy smirked after he broke the kiss and placed a blanket and some pillows onto the floor in front of the fire place.

You looked at him curiously before he took your hand and guided you over towards the fire place before kissing you again gently.

‘I will give you what you want. But this needs to stay between us Y/N’ Tommy said as a soft smile ran over his lips.

‘That goes without saying Tommy’ you smiled while Tommy removed his suit jacket, gun holster and shoes.

You also slipped off your shoes but did not know what to do next, looking at Tommy full of questions.

But, within a split second, your questions were answered by Tommy’s actions. He caught your body to his, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your breasts into his chest.

Not knowing what to say, you reached up and pulled his mouth down to yours again. The touch of his warm lips brushing against yours caused a thrill of excitement to rush through you once more. His kiss was soft, gentle, and then became more urgent as you opened your mouth to accept his tongue. Your heart pounded so hard it hurt as you kissed him back fervently.

‘You are beautiful’ Tommy said as your lips drifted apart before kissing you again, deepening and lengthening it all the more, showing just how much he wanted you. This was the first time you were told this by a man and it felt amazing coming from him.

After your lips finally drifted apart, he simply smiled at you. The smile that crossed his face warmed your trembling limbs and hid your excited nervousness. You smiled in return, not trusting your voice. Of course, you wanted this every bit as much as he did. You wanted him more than anyone you had ever known, but now you felt somehow unstable when finally faced with having sex for the first time with a man you had actually chosen to be with.

The bravado you usually wore like a shield seemed to desert you, and even though you remained fully clothed, you felt naked under his heated gaze. You suddenly worried about your inexperience, your body and if he would still look at you in the same way once you were stripped of your clothes. God, this was a mistake. He couldn't want you the same way that you wanted him. You didn't know how you had managed to convince yourself that this could work.

Tommy saw the panic of insecurity rise in your eyes, and he reached out to gently push a stray strand of hair behind your ear and grazed your bottom lip with his thumb before bringing his mouth to yours again. It was a slow kiss, deepening as his desire built even further. He knew he needed to go slow with you, take you gently after all you’ve been through.

A hot rush travelled through your body as you responded to his kiss and felt him toying with the buttons on the back of your dress. One button at a time popped open under his fingers, and the cool air wrapped itself around your shoulders as he slid the bodice of the dress down to expose to his gaze the lace bra that you wore. You gasped as you felt him nuzzle into your neck and trace your collarbone with his lips.

Tommy groaned at the sight of you, trailing his fingers over the delicate white lace bra.

‘Are you wearing panties that match?’ Tommy asked with curiosity.

‘Yes, of course’ you moaned as he brushed his fingers across your lace-covered nipples. They surged under his caress and sent piercing streaks of arousal to your pussy.

His caress was like a hot spark through the fabric, and his touch excited you like you hadn't believed possible from your past experiences.

You didn't know how you would withstand his hands on the naked skin of your breast as you felt him reach behind you for the clasp. You felt the pressure of the material release, and without the slow unveiling you had expected, he pulled it away quickly and your breasts spilled out, ripe and firm, as the lace garment fell to the floor.

‘God, you're beautiful’ Tommy said again. But this time, his voice sounded more than husky, scratchy even, as if it was raw with the heat and lust he felt for you.

You felt a blush creep up your neck in response to his comment. The urge to cover your chest with your arms was strong, but you resisted.

Instead you decided to take the words he had uttered and bolster your flagging self-confidence to ask for what you wanted now.

‘Touch me please, Tommy’ you groaned. You'd hoped your voice would sound strong and self-assured. Unfortunately, you couldn't pull it off, and it shook with pure anxiety.

‘You couldn't stop me now if you tried’ Tommy groaned, cupping your breast and leaning down to swipe his tongue across one hard nipple.

‘Oh god Tommy’ you whimpered, as he teased the hard, little bud with his lips and rolled the other stiff nipple between two fingers. Your legs felt like they might collapse under you.

‘Maybe you better lie down eh’ Tommy grinned as he guided you onto the blanket and pillows on the floor.

Tommy was quick to remove his shirt but left on his black suit pants for now before leaning down over you and kissing you once more.

His lips soon trailed down your neck and returned to your small naked breasts.

There was intense look on his face as he took one of your thus-far neglected breast into his warm mouth. He licked and sucked, alternating between the two stiff peaks, until you trembled and gasped on the edge of something you'd never experienced before. You felt feverish with excitement. Your mouth was dry, but your body was more alive than it had ever been before. Without him having touched your pussy, it was wet, yet felt as if it was on fire and throbbing with need.

Shivers of anticipation shot up your spine, and you sucked your breath in raggedly as he dragged his insistent tongue down, letting it trail over your belly and to your navel. He pushed down on the bottom half of your dress, and you lifted your hips off the bed to help him remove it. Tommy took his time exploring your body, trailing his fingers and mouth over your belly and thighs, before running them teasingly over the lace of your panties, making your moan loudly.

‘Take off your panties. I want to see all of you’ Tommy said. His voice was thick with longing.

The panties were moist, evidence of your excitement, and you were certain that he could smell your arousal as you hooked your thumbs inside the waistband of the lacy white panties and wriggled out of them. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but also incredibly excited by the expression on his face, as he watched you offer your body to him. His expression showed eagerness, pleasure, even greed, you thought. There was no sign of the trepidation you had expected to see there.

Without taking his gaze from you he stood up and opened his belt and the zipper of his pants and finally shoved them down his legs with his underwear. He kicked them off and stood before you.

You couldn't stop the gasp that escaped your lips. Tommy's body was well-toned, with a broad chest and slightly tapering waist. Short hairs nestled between his nipples and ran in a thin wisp upwards towards the top of his chest which was covered with some army tattoos.

But it was his cock that held your attention. It stood, swollen and erect, thrusting out from his dark pubic hair. Your breath caught in your throat. It appeared impossibly thick and long, with distended veins running along the shaft. Your pussy throbbed at the sight of it, but your stomach churned in repressed fear. None of the intimate male parts you had seen before had ever looked quite so imposing. Could you take it? Would it fit? Oh God, you would have to stop him... Would he let your stop him now?

As he joined you again on the blanket in front of the fire place, his hands moved slowly and tenderly over your body, pushing the anxiety from your mind as they wandered over your contours and cupped your pussy gently. You groaned softly as his fingers caressed the lips, wet with your arousal, and then slid between their moistness into the entrance of your pussy. Tommy buried his face against your neck, kissing it gently.

You moved your pelvis in time with his probing fingers. They were curious and insistent and were creating marvellous sensations in your pussy.

You groaned and spread your legs wider, allowing him easier access.

‘Oh God, Tommy, that feels so…’ Your voice faded as he took immediate advantage of your pleasure, dipping his finger deeper inside your wetness. Your hips jerked suddenly at the familiar but yet pleasurable sensation of being penetrated by is thick fingers.

Tommy felt the heavy beating of your heart. Its rhythm matched his own, but the throbbing in his cock was wilder than he could remember. It took every ounce of his willpower to restrain himself and not plough into your immediately. The sight of you, naked beneath him, drove him crazy.

Unable to restrain his need to taste you properly, he kissed down your body again so that he could let his tongue slide through your glistening labia and taste your delicious essence as his lips sought out your fleshy clit.

‘Oh, Tommy! Oh, shit!’ you moaned, squirming under his mouth.

No one had ever kissed you there, in your most intimate area.

Your nails dug into his scalp to hold him there. You didn't want him to ever stop. His tongue was creating sensations in your that you had never experienced before. Masturbation had always been good for you. You knew how to use your fingers expertly to bring yourself to climax, but this was different. It was warmer, wetter and more teasing, with an intense build up that made you want to thrash around and cry out in pleasure and frustration. You rocked your pelvis against his mouth, your inhibitions fading into the background of the sensations he gave you. You moved with him, demanding more as he licked and explored you.

A squeal of pure pleasure tore from your lips as your spasms started deep inside. You trembled and gasped at the sensations that raced through your body to your pussy and exploded in a wave of pleasure that radiated back throughout your body again. As the waves of sensation crossed each other, you swore you would pass out. You held on to the here and now, enjoying the wild ride, and when you opened your eyes at last, you found him smiling at your, the edges of his mouth glistening with your juices.

‘Holy fuck, Tommy’ you said as he moved back up towards you which is when you boldly reached out to caress the rigid cock pressed into your side, eager at the thought of giving him the same pleasure he had just given you.

It was hot and hard in your hands, and a small trickle of precum dribbled from the tip. Moving to a better position, you bent your head and tentatively stroked the velvety shaft against the side of your soft cheek, before dragging the tip of your tongue over the crown. Very gently, you drew it into your mouth and sucked slowly, lovingly, savouring his meaty thickness. You were surprised by your own enjoyment of this. You hated doing this to your husband when you were required to, but with Tommy, it was different.

‘Fuck, I'm hanging on by a thread here, Y/N, and I won't be able to hold out if you do that much longer’ he grunted after about ten minutes of you pleasuring him and as he watched your latch your soft lips onto his throbbing hardness. You moaned, overcome with the sensation of having him in your mouth and the taste of his excitement.

‘Then don't. I came, so come for me, Tommy. I want you’ you said after lifting your lips from his cock and looking up at him through hooded lids that only served to stoke the fire of his desire to even higher levels.

‘No’ he groaned and pulled you from his cock, pushing your back onto the blanket.

‘The first time I come tonight will not be in your mouth’ he grimaced.

A rush of adrenaline shot through you as he moved between your thighs. You felt the heat coming off him as he nudged himself against the moist outer lips of your pussy.

You spread your legs, and he rubbed the head of his cock over your slickness.

He hesitated for a second as he struggled to get himself under control then, leaning forward and supporting himself with his arms, he pressed ahead, pushing himself into your wetness.

His attention was focused on the warm, wet feeling of your lips surrounding his cock. They opened slowly to him, and he slowly pushed himself into the velvety depths of you.

‘Oh, Tommy’ you moaned. Your voice was tremulous and shaky as he filled you and stretched you beyond what you had known.

Hearing your tremulous moan, he thrust forward sharply and groaned as he slid all the way up inside you.

You winced and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from crying out.

Your breathing was fast and shallow as your pussy opened and stretched to take all of him.

Despite the soreness and feeling of being overfull, it was a wondrous moment for you, finally knowing what it felt like to be with a man who you desired.

It wasn’t long until you became accustomed to the amazing fullness, yet he struggled to accustom to you.

‘Fuck, you're tight’ Tommy gasped at the snugness of you, barely holding onto his self-control. Now that he was in deeper, surrounded by your wetness, he was careful not to move, to let you get used to the feel of him inside you.

It almost killed him not to plunge repeatedly into you. His cock felt harder than it ever had and your cries of pleasure, knowing no one had ever made you feel like this, made him feel more virile, more potent than he ever had.

‘I'm okay Tommy. You don't have to hold back’ you said as you breathed into his neck, clinging on to him tightly.

You wrapped your legs around his hips and raked your nails down his back as he sunk deeper into you. The eyes looking down at you were tinged with concern and fire, but you wanted his desire, his passion, to feel beautiful in his arms. You wanted him to make love to you, but you also wanted him to fuck you.

Tommy moved his hips slowly, sliding his cock back and forth inside you, letting you get used to the rhythm.

You moved with him, intuitively pushing your pelvis upwards as he slid into you. Each time he buried himself in your pussy, your clit was trapped against the upper side of his shaft. You moaned loudly at the exquisite sensations and ground your pussy up against him even harder, pumping back faster, until the sounds of your bodies slapping against each other and the squelching sound of your passionate fucking sent a wave of need and pure lust through him.

‘Oh yes Tommy’ you gasped, licking his neck and biting at his shoulders.

‘Don't hold back. Please, I need you to fuck me’ you gasped again, unbelieving that you had said the words that chased around your brain out loud.

your words caused the blood to rush through his veins and pound in his head. He stared into your desire-filled gaze but, when his eyes locked with yours, a deeper connection hit him with more force than he had ever known with any woman since Grace.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Tommy moaned. Your name tore from his lips as he plundered your body. His tongue drove into your mouth, sweeping inside, tasting, commanding, and taking what he needed. He could no longer restrain himself and he let himself go, fucking you the way he'd wanted to ever since you had appeared in his life. With a growl of pure lust, he pumped his hips, plunging into you over and over. He couldn't get deep enough.

‘Oh god Tommy, don’t stop’ you moaned as he drove into you. Your body arched and undulated under his fevered lovemaking. The muscles of your pussy clenched and spasmed around his cock as a great bubble of pleasure rose up from your toes, engulfed you and burst into shards of explosive release that had you shuddering and sobbing.

‘Fuck’ Tommy moaned at the sight of your pleasure. Your face and torso were flushed, your breath raspy, as you writhed beneath him and clawed at him while your body peaked again.

You cried out his name once more, and he lost it. A roar exploded from him as his body crested and he toppled over the edge. His cock throbbed and pulsed, spilling his anguish and a steady stream of cum into you.

After he came down from his high, he collapsed on you gasping, trying to regain his breath.

After he gently pulled out of you, you could feel some of his warm cum leak from your most intimate part as he rolled to the side, lying next to you.

He held you close as your head was resting on his chest.

‘I am sorry for the unpleasantness of the location and the hard wooden floor’ Tommy chuckled.

‘There is no need to be sorry Tommy. You’ve just given me more pleasure than anyone before’ you said, causing Tommy to smile.

‘I promise that, next time, we will fuck on a bed, eh…a comfortable bed’ Tommy smirked.

‘So, this wasn’t a one off then?’ you asked.

‘It doesn’t have to be, if we are careful’ Tommy said, thinking that, how much worse could it possibly get. You are already conspiring against your husband together so, when you meet to exchange information, you might as well sleep with each other.

But little did Tommy and you know that your husband may soon find out about your indiscretions when nature takes its course.

#Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x y/n #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine

415 notes · View notes

definitelyseven · 3 years

Text

hurts so good | three

summary: growing up with Park Jinyoung was never easy and things are about to get worse when you’ve been asked to marry him

You woke up to the sound of your alarm and an empty bed next to you. You sighed - he didn’t come home at all last night.

“Good morning mom and dad,” you greeted Jinyoung’s parents. “Chae and Jae,” you continued to greet as you made your way to a seat at the table.

“Where’s Jinyoung?” his father asked.

"He left early for work,” you covered for him.

He scoffed loudly before throwing a stack of photos onto the dining table. You looked down and see pictures of Jinyoung and a woman. She was on his lap, leaning down towards his face. His hand was on her thigh. “Come up with a better excuse next time,” his father revealed. “Do a better job taking care of your husband so he doesn’t need to look for another women to please him.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized.

“Being a Park women isn’t easy. You have to learn how to swallow your pride, when to speak up and when to shut up,” he lectured. “It’s your fault this happened.”

“I understand,” you said swallowing your tears.

“Fix it,” he demands before leaving the dinner table. Your mother-in-law gives your shoulder a light squeeze before leaving the table. There was nothing she could do but agree with her husband. Your father-in-law was right - being a Park women wasn’t easy. Look at your mother-in-law who had to share her husband with another woman and take in her son as her own.

“Could you get father’s medicine?” Jaebum asked Chaewon. She nods, leaving the table. You grabbed the photos in your hand, flipping through them. Each photo making your stomach churn. “Still think he’s worth defending?”

“Where did father get this?” you asked with tears in your eyes.

Jaebum sighed, “Sunrise Magazine.”

You were upset and mad. No matter how much he disliked you, never in a million years did you think he would actually cheat on you. You thought he would be faithful especially witnessing how his father treated his mother.

“I’m sorry Mr. Joo. She wouldn’t wait outside,” the editor-in-chief’s secretary explained. You ignored her, taking a seat in front of him.

“It’s okay,” he tells her before she closes the door. “How may I help you?”

“I’m Mrs. Park, the Marketing Director at Park Inc.,” you introduced, sliding your business card across the table. “If you don’t know, our company gives your magazine billions of dollars of business every year from advertisements alone.”

“Ah...yes. How can I help you, Mrs. Park?” he asked nervously.

“I’ll make this quick.” You tossed a photo of Jinyoung and that women on his table. “This is my husband and this photo came from someone in your office. If you want to continue to work with us, I better not see any of these photos leaked to the public,” you warned. “Or else you’ll be the one explaining to your boss why you lost the magazine’s biggest account.”

“Yes certainly,” he agreed immediately. “I will make sure this will never happen again.”

“If you or anyone in your office follows me and my family again. I will blame it on you,” you warned once again before getting up.

“Mrs. Park,” he called. “I can promise that no one from this office will bother you and your family again, but I must warn you of something.”

“What is it?”

“The women is this photo. She is one of our owner’s mistress. Even if this photo doesn’t leak to the public, I’m sure he’s already seen this.”

“And your boss is?”

“Mr. Choi.”

Mr. Choi was one of your father-in-law’s oldest friend. He is notorious for his four wives and his many affairs. He is also the biggest investor in Jinyoung’s new project. The women in the picture was one of his mistresses which makes this situation more complicated.

The car stopped at the red light and you quickly glanced outside. You shifted in your seat when you see a familiar face, Taeyong, your ex-boyfriend. Up until the day you agreed to marry Jinyoung, he was still your boyfriend. How do you tell the person you once loved that you will be marrying someone else instead of them?

“Wait,” you tell your driver as you stole another glance at your ex-lover. He was standing there alone, playing on his phone.

“Mrs. Park, the lights turned green.”

“Just one second,” you tell him. The sound of school bells caught you and your ex-lover’s attention. A bunch of little kids running outside the school. In particular, one little girl running straight to your ex-lover.

“Mrs. Park,” your driver called again.

“Okay, let’s go.”

You had to be calm, no matter how mad you were at Jinyoung. No matter what he did wrong, he was still your husband; still the man that save your father from his gambling debts.

He owned you.

“Someone might see us,” you hear whispers coming from inside Jinyoung’s office. “Not here,” the woman inside continued to whisper.

“I don’t care,” he tells her before the sound of her giggles filled the room. You shut your eyes and clenched your fist into a ball. You recognized that voice and it wasn’t the same woman in the picture. It was his secretary; Nayeon. Now you understood why she always acted weird with you.

You had choices - you could go in and expose him or you could pretend this didn’t happen. You could let it go and maybe, just maybe you’ll still have a chance with Jinyoung. You could let it go and he would still be your husband and you will still be Mrs. Park.

In this very moment, you chose to walk away and pretend nothing happened.

You walked away from Jinyoung’s office and headed for Jaebum’s. If anyone was going to help, it would be him.

“Come in,” Jaebum said from the other side of the room. He looked up at you as soon as you walked into his office. “You need something?”

“You knew who she was.”

“Do you still think Jinyoung’s worth defending?” he questioned again.

“You knew who she was and you didn’t say anything this morning,” you repeated.

“Does it matter? You know now.”

“I need your help, Jae.”

“No,” he refused immediately.

“Why? You didn’t even know what I was going to ask. Please,” you begged. He shook his head. “He’s your brother.”

“Has he ever treated me like his brother?” he asked through his teeth.

You let out a deep sigh. “Please,” you looked at him with tears in your eyes. “Save me from the humiliation. I don’t think I can take it,” you admitted honestly.

This time it was Jaebum’s turn to sigh. “You don’t deserve this, Y/N. You deserve better, so much better.”

“I know you’ve always cared for me like a sister-”

“You know I cared about you as more than a sister,” he admitted.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re both married. Chae’s pregnant. Jinyoung’s my husband.”

“The answer is still no. Last time I checked we were fighting to be the next Chairman. I think this would be my advantage,” he revealed.

“Jae...”

“What do you need from me?” he sighed in defeat.

“With your relationship with Uncle Choi, you can easily get me a meeting with him.”

“And what do you plan on doing once you meet him?”

“Leave the rest to me. Just don’t let Jinyoung know. He would be pissed if I meddled with his affairs,” you said before walking out of his office.

You and Jaebum sat patiently in the VIP room for Mr. Choi. He was 30 minutes late and you were getting anxious.

“Relax Y/N,” Jaebum tells you as you looked at your watch for the sixth time.

“I’d be more relax if Uncle Choi showed up on time.”

“He has a right to be late,” he reminded. Of course he did. Especially after Jinyoung fooled around with his woman.

Just as you were about to speak again, Mr. Choi walks in. “Uncle Choi,” the both of you called.

“I know why you’re here and I don’t care,” he says right away as he sat down across from you both.

“Uncle Choi, I know what Jinyoung did was wrong. We’re here to show you how sorry we are.”

“Sorry? Where is he then?” he scoffed. “He should be here apologizing if he was sorry.”

You smiled subtly, “Uncle Choi, you have four wives. I’m sure they’ll do exactly what I’m doing if you were in this situation.”

Mr. Choi chuckles, “If they were as forgiving as you, I wouldn’t have four wives.”

This time it was your turn to chuckle. “So what do you say Uncle Choi? What can we do to get you to forget about this? You can get any women you’d like - no need to ruin our relationship over one woman,” you pointed out.

“I don’t like to share,” he tells you.

“No need to share when there’s plenty to go around,” you smirked. You clapped your hands signaling the women outside to come in. “You can have anyone you’d like.”

Mr. Choi laughs out loud. “Y/N, I didn’t expect this from you. You must really love our Jinyoungie.” You smiled subtly again. “Our collaboration agreements, raise my share from 50% to 70%.”

“We can’t do that Uncle Choi,” Jaebum immediately shuts down.

“That is my offer if you want to keep working together - including Jinyoung’s new project,” he said firmly.

“We can agree to 70% -” Jaebum quickly turns to you, attempting to stop you from making any rash decisions. You grabbed Jaebum’s hand, giving it a small squeeze. You looked directly into his eyes - sending him a mental note to trust you. “We can agree to 70% but with conditions,” you requested. “We will stick with our agreed upon advertisements in your magazine as well as 10 billboards around your most popular locations in the mall; free of charge.”

“Fine. I always appreciate doing business with a beautiful lady,” he smirked. “Mistress #5 was supposed to be my lucky charm tonight. Why don’t you take her spot tonight?” he asked rhetorically as he hands you a red dress. You knew you couldn’t reject it. If you wanted him to forgive Jinyoung and accept your conditions, you had to do this. You had to be his lucky charm tonight.

“Y/N...” Jaebum whispers. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I’ve always been lucky,” you tell the both of them as you grabbed the red dress from him. The dress was tight and small. It was obvious what his intentions were tonight.

"My my my, Y/N. You look marvelous in that dress,” Mr. Choi smirked, licking his lips. Although you were disgusted by his words, you still had to fake a smile. “Look who I invited.”

You turned around to see Jinyoung standing there. Once he laid eyes on you and your short dress, his blood began to boil. “Jinyoung...” you called out.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked pissed off.

231 notes · View notes

sixtyeightdays · 4 years

Text

you reap what you sow

prompt from @mialuvscats : i hope this meets your expectations ! im sorry this took so long, i tried uploading it from my phone but it glitched and i could only get my hands on the computer today

i’d like to say that i think if sabine and mari are there, damian and talia willl be relatively looser and not as uptight . mari and sabine are cold but loving and sunshiney. they keep talia and damian in check, essentially. which is why i wrote them in to be loose and free but able to be openly happy when they want to be, even if they are only happy around each other.

with sabine here i also thinkt hat talia will be slightly easier on damian, which also ties to the fact that he will not be as cold and uptight.

talia will be a good mother in this fic bc i want her to be and itll be ooc but its okay its my fic anyway

and the timeline is kinda messed up and all over the place sorry

that aside, have fun reading and i hope you enjoy!

talia and sabine are best friends, and before most of the class joins francois, marinette ruled the school after coming to paris with sabine. mari and damian are betrothed and the two are best friends. they can be icy one minute and sunshiney the next, although the sunshiney part is more mari than damian.

maybe the waynes come to paris, bc if theyre in gotham the others wont really know if the queen is back, and theyre kinda unsure why marinette is being timid and very unlike her ice queen demeanor she sometimes uses. mari is closest to jason in terms of batfam because firstly maybe she cleanses jason of the lazarus pit after helping damian using tikki's creation magic to counteract plagg's destruction one. since the waynes are here theres no point in mari hiding her queen status anymore and queue lila reveal

Talia al Ghul and Sabine Cheng were an unlikely combination, but worked perfectly well.

The two women were extremely close. Sabine was almost as deadly as Talia, but she made up for it with her devious mindset. She was the one who steered Talia away from doing anything wrong --well more wrong than usual-- and the one who was assigned to dish out punishments to usurpers.

The two could read each other like open books, and hence, when both Talia and Sabine became pregnant, Talia one month before Sabine, the two knew immediately.

They had debated whether or not to have their kids be betrothed, and eventually decided to let their children make the final call when their kids were old enough to understand.

Nine months later, Marinette and Damian were born. In the League infirmary, an hour after the two were cleaned and left there to rest while their mothers did the same, the two had already grown rather close.

Their baby cribs were next to each other, and somehow they were staring at each other through the walls of the crib, and were making small grabby hands to the other.

When Talia and Sabine were sufficiently rested and came to pick up their children, they were slightly shocked, yet gratified by their children. Sabine smiled and draped an arm around Talia’s shoulder, smiling lazily.

“I guess they’ll be as close as their mothers, non?”

Talia smirked, and the two walked forwards, lifting their respective children in their arms and walking to their quarters.

The two mothers did not regret it. Their kids were enamoured with each other, practically joined at the hip.

By the time Marinette and Damian were 5, they had a very extensive vocabulary, since they had learned to speak Arabic, French and English. They were also extremely smart and skilled with weapons.

Marinette was extremely adept at using a yoyo. It seemed weird, I know. But when the League was stormed when she was 3, she had taken out 4 men with her yoyo alone. Since then, she had been teaching herself how to use the yoyo effectively.

Damian preferred to use a katana. He looked much scarier than Marinette, even if the two were the same age. He had found a natural talent in using blades, knives, katanas and daggers included.

Marinette was the Rain to Damian’s Fire.

She was the only one who could calm Damian down when he was mad, mad.

But make no mistake, Marinette could switch personalities in a heartbeat. She was one of the League’s most skilled interrogators at the age of 5.

After all, who would suspect a pigtailed 5 year old in pink to be scary?

Damian much preferred his stoic and icy attitude. The only people he ever let loose around was Marinette, Sabine, and Talia.

Talia and Sabine loved the children to an almost deadly extent, and the four were extremely overprotective of each other.

Marinette had taken to magic as well. She had been trained by many people in the League about sensing magic. Damian did not have the patience for magic and rituals.

Marinette knew Damian was more of a ‘attack first ask questions later’ type of fighter, a stark contrast to Marinette’s ‘i will curse you and you will suffer in agonising pain for the rest of your life’ preferred type of fighting.

She’d never really liked getting her hands dirty, hence the magic. Killing people with magic was so much cleaner.

Sabine and Marinette had to leave for Paris when she was 9. For what, she wasn’t sure, but regardless of the distance, she and Damian constantly traded calls and letters. They would never go even a day without contact.

They were staying with one of Sabine’s old friends. His name was Tom Dupain, and he was an old wrestler and had worked with the League before. He and Sabine pretended to be married and Marinette’s name had hence became Marinette Dupain Cheng.

Damian and Talia stayed at the League, although all of them knew that Damian was to meet his birth father when he turned 10.

Marinette adapted her icy demeanor in Paris, never wanting anyone to get as close as she was with Damian.

A few hours in, walking around Paris, she had met an elderly man in a red Hawaiian shirt, emitting the aura of magic. She had confronted him, and eventually, he opened up to her about the Miraculous. Tikki, the Ladybug kwami, and Plagg, the Black Cat kwami had taken a liking to her.

Marinette was apparently something called a True User, a reincarnation of the first Ladybug miraculous wielder. Plagg just rather liked the aura of death and chaos she apparently gave off, from the League.

She and the other Kwamis also had a rather amicable relationship, and she’d go to the ends of the Earth for the tiny gods, and vice versa.

The elderly man, named Fu, had also started to train her into becoming the new Guardian of the Miraculous.

Before, Marinette had been planning on laying low and not drawing atention to herself, but once she had beaten up two upperclassmen for bullying her classmate and somewhat accquaintance Nino, she had been fiercely regarded by both the students and faculty.

As a result, she eventually grew close to Nino, and his friends, Kim, Alix and Chloe. She only ever let down her icy demeanour around them, showing the bright and bubbly girl persona she kept hidden. She wasn’t as close to them as she was to Damian, but they were all still quite close friends.

It wasn’t long after that Marinette became the queen of her school, at the tender age of 10, earning her title as the Ladybug. Or, as Chloe liked to put it, the Lady, because she was lucky enough to ‘get a friend like her’.

Marinette didn’t protest. She rather liked Ladybugs, and besides, it was ironic and it reminded her a little of Damian, who sometimes liked to call her his Maribug. Because she was sometimes a pest, he deadpanned. Marinette had whacked him with a pillow.

Everyone in the school feared the Ladybug. No one knew anything of her past. She was a mystery, an enigma that no one could solve. When new students came in after Marinette turned 14, everyone was slightly shocked to see their Lady change.

She was much more bubbly and approachable. Word had spread around that Marinette, the Lady, was trying a clean slate for the new kids. After all, not everyone should fear her.

Probably.

School eventually returned to what it was like before Marinette became the Lady, although she did still rule the school, she did it much more subtly, with more restraint and secrecy.

One of the new kids, Alya, had taken a liking to her. Marinette did not like her very much, she was loud and clingy and drew a lot of unwanted attention.

Marinette and her old crew, who had playfully called themselves her Consorts before the name stuck, had split up temporarily, to cover more ground and spread their branches.

Chloe was to pretend to be Marinette’s bully, Kim and Alix rivals, and Nino a shy recluse. They had had a good laugh about it beforehand, before watching Moana, because Kim wanted to compare the size of his muscles to Maui’s.

None of them had accounted for Adrien Agreste, who had tried to get the gum off Marinette’s seat like the naive, sheltered boy he was. Marinette had admittedly gotten mad at him for screwing up a perfectly good plan, before ramping up her ice persona to like, a 2/10, to get the newbies off her scent and scare Adrien away.

It hadn’t worked, because the boy was apparently as stubborn as he was naive. But besides that, Alya had been really grating on Marinette’s nerves, especially since she was convinced that Marinette had a crush on the model. It was not true, of course.

Honestly, Marinette thought dryly, as Alya dragged her all over the place to.. somewhere, she wasn’t even sure anymore. But frankly, she didn’t particularly care. Honestly, the only boy she’d probably ever have a crush on would be Damian.

Not that she’d ever admit it.

When Marinette and Damian turned 10, she and Sabine had taken a plane to Gotham to meet up with Damian.

Damian had not been having a good time. He was very much unwanted here, that was clear.

Grayson seemed to be the only one trying to interact with him. His father, had been trying his best to stay out of Damian’s way, which he reciprocated. Todd was flat out ignoring him and Drake just seemed to be busy all the time.

After all, who would want to interact with a grumpy 10 year old assassin?

He missed Marinette.

It was the day Todd finally tried to open up to Damian, that Marinette had arrived. No one had told him that she was finally meeting him again for the first time in a year. Sabine had left Marinette to figure out where Damian was on her own. She was more than capable of it.

With a quick scrying spell, she found him, and Kaalki opened a portal headed in the direction of Wayne Manor.

Meanwhile, Damian just appreciated the fact that Todd was finally extending an olive branch. He was lonely.

It hurt seeing his father care for everyone in the manor apart from him.

He had been walking along the gardens in the manor. Todd had joined him.

“Listen, I know it’s hard to feel accepted here. Sometimes, I do.” Jason gazed wistfully at the sky above him.

Damian was unsure of where the ex-Robin was getting at, so he just kept quiet. It wasn’t as if Damian didn’t know who Jason Todd was. Before he had come to the manor with Talia, he had read the Waynes’ files. In addition, Damian had known of Jason while he was affiliated with the League. They had never talked, or interacted, but he had known of the elder boy.

“I just, uh, wanted you to know that if you ever need anything, you can come to me.” He finished lamely, running a hand in his hair.

Damian opened his mouth, then closed it, hesitating. “Thank you, Ja--Todd. I will.” He settled on saying dryly.

Jason visibly relaxed and cracked a miniscule smile. There was a sudden ‘swoosh’ sound, and both Jason and Damian turned around, bodies automatically going on the defensive.

Stumbling out of Alfred’s rose bushes, trodding on a few accidentally, was Marinette.

“Angel!” Damian exclaimed, moving forwards to help her forwards.

She brushed her shoulders off, looking around before freezing, staring at something behind him.

“Jay?”

“Pixie?” He asked, sounding incredulous.

Marinette rushed forward and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Jason laughed and hugged her back, chuckling.

Damian quashed down the bubbling feeling of rage in the pit of his stomach and settled for casting a frosty glance in their direction. Not that they noticed, since they were too busy embracing each other, Damian thought scornfully.

The two pulled apart after too long in Damian’s opinion, laughing.

“Angel? How do you know Todd?” Damian asked coldly, ever so protective.

If Jason noticed the sudden reversion to his surname instead of his first, he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, he came to Paris with Lia once and I cleansed him of the Lazarus pit madness, like I did with you.” She replied.

“What are you doing here?” Jason asked. Damian had forgotten about that.

“Visiting, of course!” She winked. “Now, let’s give your old man a good scare.” She pecked Damian on the cheek before vanishing. (Thanks, Trixx.)

Jason and Damian looked to each other. “Did you know she could do that?” Jason questioned. Damian shook his head before pausing.

“Wait.. how did she get into the manor?”

The only response was the faint echo of a laugh.

It was time for dinner anyway, and only Damian, Jason, and Alfred knew of Marinette’s presence. Marinette had voluntary evelaed herself to the elderly butler after noticing his aura.

It was Miraculous tainted. If Marinette could guess, he had been either one of Duusu’s, Sass’s, or Nooroo’s.

When the butler had retired to the kitchen alone, Marinette had unraveled Trixx’s magic veiling her and waved at the butler.

To hi credit, he didn’t so much as bat an eye before his eyes widened as he took her in. Marinette cut to the chase.

“Who was your kwami?” Alfred had surveyed her for a second before seemingly trusting her.

“Duusu.” He answered.

Marinette smiled. “I’m Tikki’s.” From her perch in Marinette’s left pigtail, the red Kwami pried open the folds of her hair, waving once at Alfred before sinking back into the recesses of the bluenette’s locks.

Alfred blinked. Once. Twice. “I’m presuming you’re staying for dinner?”

Marinette beamed. “I’m gonna scare the big bat.” Alfred nodded, accepting this. Marinette clapped her hands and she disappeared again. Alfred shook his head, smiling faintly.

Conveniently, it was one of the times where everyone was there. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. Rare these days, what with Dick in Bludhaven, Tim at WE, and Jason off being Jason.

Bruce was currently on his way back from WE, although it would take around half an hour. He had told everyone to start eating first. Perfect.

After Marinette’s encounter with Alfred, she had reappeared in Damian’s room, where she and Damian caught up. Just like old times.

She had disappeared again once she left the room, and Damian wasn’t entirely sure where she went.

Alfred set the the table as per normal, which Damian and Jason noticed right away. They looked to Alfred, who merely winked before stepping back into the kitchen and laying out the food.

There was a screech of a chair as Marinette, disguised as Bruce (Trixx in her right pigtail and Tikki in the left) sat down. Dick looked startled.

“I thought you wouldn’t be back till later!” Dick exclaimed.

Mari-Bruce shrugged. “Faster than I’d expected.” She answered, securing the veil of Trixx’s magic around her vocal chords, making her voice sound exactly like Bruce’s.

Jason inched away slightly from Bruce, though she pretended not to notice.

Alfred nodded at her as he reentered the room.

Everyone dug in, occasionally talking. It had been about 25 minutes before the sound of the door opening could be heard. Damian and Jason’s head shot up, thinking it was Marinette.

Mari-Bruce smirked. Showtime.

Bruce entered the room, not noticing Mari at first. Until the batboys gaped at him. He looked confused. What--?

Mari-Bruce was a pretty great actress. “Who are you?” She thundered, internally laughing.

“Who are you? I’m Bruce Wayne.” He answered, looking befuddled and frustrated.

“Impostor.” Mari-Bruce accused.

Bruce spluttered. “No! I’m the real Bruce!”

Mari-Bruce scoffed. “That’s what an impostor would say.”

Damian and Jason seemed to figure it out, although they probably weren’t sure which Bruce was the real one yet.

Tim rubbed his eyes. “Am I seeing double, or?”

Bruce said, “Ask me something the real Bruce would know.”

Dick looked torn, but did as requested. “Who murdered your parents?”

“Joe Chill.” They both said at the same time. Mari-Bruce and Bruce winced, selling the act.

“When’s my birthday?” Tim asked.

“July 17th.” Both Bruces answered.

Tim looked surprised. “You actually know my birthday?”

“No shit, Tim.” Mari-Bruce said, rolling their eyes. She rather wanted to proceed to the next part of her plan.

“Would I say that to you, Tim?” Bruce asked slightly desperately.

“Maybe?”

Bruce facepalmed. In the confusion, Mari took the chance to slink into the shadows where she rewrapped Trixx’s invisible magic around her.

Only Damian noticed. He smirked. “Where did he go?” He asked, placing a hand on the hilt of his katana for emphasis. He didn’t see Marinette smile at him.

Everyone looked panicked. “Search the manor.” Bruce ordered.

Jason still looked slightly skeptical but did as he said. Damian drew his katanas and tilted it in the direction he was going.

Amongst everyone, Bruce was the most attacked. While Jason and Damian paired off, Tim and Dick did as well, ("Don’t go alone!” Was Bruce’s admonished cry), Bruce had gone alone.

If she were being honest, Marinette had always had a grudge against the billionaire. He hadn’t saved his son, he had tried to kill his son, even though he had a no killing rule --which Marinette thought was plain stupid--, and he had left Damian to suffer at the hands of Ra’s Al Ghul.

Talia could only do so much to save her son.

Yes, Marinette was aware that Bruce hadn’t know Damian existed, but now he was still treating Damian as if he didn’t exist. Marinette knew how much Damian craved affection, even if he never admitted it.

Yes, maybe Bruce was getting better, but maybe she could.. spur the process.

So Marinette retaliated in one of the many ways she knew how.

Messing with them.

So when the Waynes regrouped in the dining room, Jason, Damian, Dick and Tim came back unharmed, and Jason had been filled in by Damian of his suspicions. But Bruce?

He came back covered in honey and feathers, drenched with water and covered in pink slime.

“Why is he going after me?” Bruce had questioned in that annoying voice of his, after looking over his spotless sons.

Jason shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t like you. God knows he’s not the only one.”

Bruce looked slightly hurt but Jason didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Maybe this person is infatuated with you and is vying for your attention.” Damian deadpanned dryly. Marinette had smacked him on the back of his head, still invisible.

But the damage had been done.

Bruce snapped his fingers and ‘aha!’-ed at Damian. “That must be it!” Bruce crowed.

“Are you that narcissistic, you arrogant plebeian?” Marinette’s normally cheery voice was dry and dripping with distaste as she unwrapped her magic.

Bruce, Dick and Tim immediately went on the defensive, shifting into a battle stance. Marinette only scoffed.

“If I wanted to harm you, I would have already done so.” Marinette waved a hand in their direction dismissively.

Dick looked confused. “You’re like, ten.” He pointed out.

Damian glared. “I am ten as well, Grayson.”

Tim butted in. “Are we not going to acknowledge the fact that this tiny ten year old broke into the manor unnoticed?”

That brought everyone to their senses.

They were suddenly surprised by Marinette running at Jason, full speed. They expected him to duck or whip out a weapon, but all he did was stand still as she flipped in midair to land on his shoulders.

To their utter shock, Jason grinned, even as she fisted her hands in his hair for a better grip.

Damian only smiled fondly at his Angel. She was as short as he remembered, Damian noted.

He missed her. More than anything.

Marinette beamed, and slid off Jason’s shoulders.

“Why did you attack me?” Bruce asked. “Isn’t it obvious, fool?” Marinette revamped her icy demeanor and glared at the civilian Batman. “I despise you.”

Bruce looked very affronted. But Mariinette ignored him, even as he continued talking and made her way over to Damian.

“Damibear!” Marinette sang, as if she hadn’t seen him less than an hour ago.

The Waynes looked as if they expected Damian to attack her just for calling him that. They were not expecting him to grin and say, “Angel.”

Mari jumped on his back, and Damian merely repositioned himself accordingly, used to this from all her previous piggybacks.

“Okay so Jason and Damian helped her get into the manor.” Tim deduced, only to notice Jason and Damian shaking their heads.

“All by herself.” Damian and Jason chorused. Marinette made bunny ears on top of Damian’s head.

She kissed Damian’s forehead lovingly, replying to his ‘i am older than you’ with a ‘yeah by like a week’, and looked to his family.

She winked.

Then disappeared.

There was silence, and then, “Wait, we didn’t even get her name!” From Dick.

Damian and Jason were interrogated that night, and they refused to tell them anything related to Marinette.

Marinette smiled from where she had hidden in the shadows, and made her way back to Damian’s room. She curled up in Damian’s bed, drifting into sleep. She was almost asleep when Damian returned.

And when Damian pressed his lips to her forehead and whispered, “Goodnight, Angel”, a smile made her way onto her lips.

By the time Damian had slipped into bed with her, her head leaning comfortably on his chest, she had fallen asleep.

When the two turned 15, Talia and Sabine sat them down and told them about the betrothal. Damian had been visiting with Talia.

It had been almost two months since Lila had turned her classmates against her, not that she cared, of course. She still had her Consorts after all.

“Marinette, Damian, we’d like to tell you something. An offer? Of sorts. I’m relatively sure you will accept, however.”

Talia smiled as Marinette dragged a grumpy Damian over to them by the head, beaming brightly.

“Oh come on, Mian! Don’t be such a grumpy banana.” Marinette reprimanded the older boy who was rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

The boy only smiled lazily, and ran another hand through his best friend’s hair, the girl making a small noise of protest. “Thats what you get for calling me a noodle, Angel.” (if you didn’t know miàn means noodle in chinese)

Sabine cleared her throat but looked at the two with amusement clear in her eyes.

They straightened. “Sorry, maman,” Mari muttered.

“Now, before you two were born, Sabine and I had an agreement. We are perfectly fine with this and the implications of it, so it is up to you to whether to accept or not.” Talia got straight to the point.

The two children looked to each other curiously before turning back to their parents. Damian nodded in acknowledgment and Sabine picked up where Talia left off.

“How do you feel about each other?” Sabine asked, watching the two closely for their reactions.

“If that’s your way of asking us if we’re okay to be siblings, since you and Lia are dating, Maman--” Marinette started but was quickly interrupted by a barely noticeably flushed Talia.

“No, not that, and we aren’t dating, Nette.” Talia aimed a playful glare at the girl, who grinned and blew a raspberry at her.

“How would you and Damian like to be betrothed?” Sabine asked, smiling at her friend and daughter fondly.

Marinette spluttered and Damian coughed.

Talia and Sabine burst out into laughter.

After the adults got their laughter under control and after a few glares from their kids, Damian spoke up.

“Marinette is my best friend. If I had to be betrothed to anyone, I’m glad it’s her.” Damian looked away and Marinette coughed awkwardly into her elbow.

“You misunderstand us. You don’t have to be betrothed. The choice is yours.”

Damian felt slightly attacked. He really did like Marinette, and the betrothal was an easy excuse to ask her out (even if he was a 15 year old). He didn’t know if Marinette felt the same way, and he didn’t want to impose that on her, so he kept quiet.

Marinette, who was looking deep in thought, answered.

“Can I talk to Damian for a while, privately?”

Damian, despite his better judgement, winced. This was probably the first time in a really long time that Marinette called him by his full name. It was normally Dami, Damibear to annoy him, or some other weird nickname like Mr Grumpy Banana this morning.

Regardless, the bluenette hadn’t called him “Damian” for a very long time. Two years, maybe.

She walked out of the room, Damian trailing slightly behind, before stopping a few feet outside the room.

Marinette slid down onto the floor, her back pressed against it and head in her hands. Damian frowned. He didn’t want his best friend looking so.. dejected. He ignored the slight pang of hurt that the thought of being with him could get this kind of reaction out of her.

He sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder like he always did when any of them felt upset. He was happy to feel her lean into his side like she always did.

She turned her head and buried it in Damian’s side, breathing in his comforting scent of paints and nature. He tightened his hold on her ever so slightly and she almost burst into tears.

It wasn’t that she was opposed to being in an engagement with Damian, it was just that she didn’t particularly want to be with anyone or love anyone, especially after her father died and Damian’s father abandoned him.

Her mother and aunt didn’t show it, but they were sad about their fathers. She had heard Talia interacting with her ‘beloved’ before, and it almost always ended up in tears or frustration. (Not that Mari blamed her, Bruce was kind of an asshole.)

She felt Damian’s chin press into her scalp and a hint of a smile grazed her lips. But this was Damian. Damian who was her best friend. Damian who supported her no matter what. Damian who comforted her and was there for her whenever she needed it.

Damian would never hurt her. And she was determined never to hurt him, ever, if she could help it.

She looked up and smiled at Damian. The smile he loved so much, the smile she always had on whenever she saw him, the smile that would unconsciously fly to her lips whenever she heard his voice.

Maybe it was then that Marinette should’ve known that she loved her best friend, but then again, she was only fifteen. She didn’t know what love was. But she would. Very soon.

“We accept.” Damian told Sabine and Talia when they reentered the room.

“We thought you would.” Talia replied.

When Marinette turned 16, her last year at Francois Dupont, six months since she’d made Lila’s time a living hell with her Ladybug (both in suit and in school), and fashion clients connections, the Waynes had visited.

Turns out, Damian and Jason got caught trying to sneak onto the Wayne private jet but instead of stopping them, they insisted they came along too, having pieced together that Damian and Jason were going to visit the mysterious tiny girl they couldn’t find the name of.

So they had no choice.

And os that leads to now, with the Waynes standing in the courtyard, elicting a growing crowd as they waited for Marinette, looking the part of scary rich people that can end your life without a problem.

Damian suddenly started running, and he hugged a girl. No one could see who the girl was because her head was buried in Damian’s chest and his body was shielding hers.

Not many people in the courtyard was surprised when they pulled away and standing there was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. After all, she was one of the most successful students in class that didn’t get fame from famous relatives. No, al her fame was hers alone.

In fact, the only people surprised were Marinette’s class, not-so-fondly referred to as the Akuma Class. Her Consorts were the only one who knew of her betrothed, Damian. Other than that, Marinette had never been willing to share.

When Marinette saw the other Waynes however, after hugging Jason, she rolled her eyes. Bruce, Dick and Tim stalked forwards, looking every inch the scary billionaires they were.

It was broken by Dick hugging the girl and gushing over how cool she was. Tim smiled at her and she had smiled back. Marinette flipped Bruce the bird.

“Why are you... so sunny? You definitely weren’t like that when you threatened us in Gotham. You were such an ice queen.” Tim mentioned, failing to keep the amusement out of his tone.

“What do you mean? Marinette’s always been like that, even if she is a bitch now. There’s no way she can be cold.” Alya remarked snidely.

Alix and Chloe stalked forward, raising thier fists threatningly. But Marinette only laughed coldly.

“You wanna see cold, Cesaire?” Marinette snarled, dropping all acts of being nice.

The Lady was back. Publicly.

The silence was interrupted by Rose, who asked, "But Lila, don't you know the Waynes?"

Said Lila had been trying to slink away unnoticed, but when her name was mentioned, all attention diverted back to her, effectively keeping her in place. Her pale face and scared eyes were enough to tell that she had indeed been lying.

Yells and screams broke out across the courtyard as the Akuma Class berated Lila for lying to them all this while. Until, Marinette interrupted, face set in a ice cold, stony position

"Okay, blame her for lying." She started. "But why did you believe her?"

The Akuma Class drew a blank and didn't respond. Partially because they didn't know what to say, and partially because Marinette's mere presence was overwhelmingly intimidating. Marinette sighed and pressed on.

"Everything the Liar has said can be found faulty by a simple internet search." It was true, and the class knew it. When no one replied, Marinette shook her head sardonically. "You reap what you sow."

She turned to her betrothed. In an instant, her icy mood was gone, replaced with the sunshiney-ness the Akuma Class had grown used to.

"C'mon, Dami!" She gave him a quick peck on the lips, hoisting herself up on Damian's back. Damian grasped her legs tightly, as she continued to be piggybacked by him.

"Onward!" She cried out dramatically, pointing to the school exit.

Damian only rolled his eyes fondly at his beloved, steering themselves out, her Consorts and his family behind them.

None of them looked back.

If they did, they would've seen the expressions of disbelief and regret etched onto every one of her old classmates' faces.

Not that they would care.

5k words yay

also uh yeah again, sorry this took so long, i kept hitting a mental block while writing this and it didnt manage to upload from my phone for no good reason :(

but anyway its up now, i hope u find this acceptable! :)

#maribat #mari is raised by the league #talia is actl a good parent in this fic bc i can #sabine is a queen as always #marinette is a godess #she is an icy queen #yes ik i spelled goddess wrong #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #ml x dc #dc x ml #betrothed #daminette #okay i think im done #i dont really know what else to tag

469 notes · View notes

7wanderingpaws · 3 years

Text

Always, yours (2)

(gif not mine) - THIS Baek tho..... ㅠ

Warnings: none

Word count: 6.5K

Tags: @geniusloey (please let me know if you want to be un/tagged!)

❤ Enjoy! Please let me know your thoughts! ^^ Have a good start of the week!❤

Also, the new apartment!

Masterlist / story masterlist

<-- Previous - Next -->

Second - My name is Lee Junho and I will be your trainer

You stood at the entrance of the gym, your palms somehow clammy. You didn’t realize putting on leggings would look this bad. Tears welled up in your eyes when Sukyeong took your hand to yank you inside.

“C’mon, don’t be ridiculous,” she whispered to you and when she managed to pull you inside, she pressed her fisted hand against your back, making you walk ahead. “You look great! You don’t even look like you’ve been pregnant,” she hissed in your ear.

Arguable, you thought right away but decided not to be any more negative. The only good point was you were able to leave home without the triplets. Baekhyun, just as promised, was home by six so you didn’t have to worry about leaving them at the baby corner (it was baby safe, you went to check the place out).

Slightly bowing to the other girls as you walked past, most of them your age or older, you decided to be in the back, far away from the teaching lady. You imagined her being young, and very fit. Her black hair would be shiny and she would have make-up to look perfect. A great way to ruin one’s self-esteem such as yours.

However, a single nudge from Sukyeong and your non-existent self-esteem basically vanished into thin air. Instead, anxiety with a sprinkle of bewitchedness, hit you for in walked a handsome male, around Baekhyun's age, with eyes like that of a cat's; narrow and sharp, his features leveled, nose straight with a pair of plump lips. He had longer dark hair that fell over his forehead in fluffy waves.

“Good evening, ladies!” he announced himself, clapping twice to gain everyone's attention. He didn't have to do it though; more than half of the ladies were already salivating over him, including your best friend. When the trainer saw wide eyes on him, he let out a boyish chuckle and this time, you couldn't escape the charm either. He was incredibly handsome. “My name is Lee Junho and I will be your trainer! I have some experience with working out,” he joked and, of course, everyone laughed louder than it was necessary. His toned chest and arms spoke volumes about his experience. “Please, let me know in advance if there are any injuries you have so that I can adjust the exercises to you accordingly. Do you have any questions?” He looked around with interest, his eyes skimming through any possible curious hand.

“Should I tell him that I'm…. you know,” you mumbled to Sukyeong but before you could finish your sentence, you shook your head, stopping yourself. It will be alright, you thought. As always, you made sure to feed the triplets properly and pump your breasts, so you expected no problems with the excessive breast milk leaking over your t-shirt this time.

Just like that, you found yourself jumping up and down as the exercise started. Lee Junho seemed to be a great professional, always adjusting everyone's postures to ensure full effectiveness. With the help of the deafening pop music, everything seemed suddenly possible. Until it came to you and until he lingered more by your side than the rest of the girls.

It was to be expected, but you still felt stupid. You couldn't do the push-ups like all the other girls who already had a great body. Meanwhile, hidden under Baekhyun's huge black shirt that you stole, was your still-fading baby bump. It was difficult to even try to get your shoulders off the mat as you did sit-ups; you were heaving loudly, sweat dripping down your face.

“Push just a little bit more,” murmured Junho with an encouraging smile as he put his hand between your shoulder blades, helping you sit up higher. It was a good support, but your abs were on fire, numbing everything that was made out of your core. “That's right, keep doing it like that.”

You hummed, and tried a few more times before giving up. Sukyeong wasn't that much better than you, but she still could sit up. She flashed you a small smile and mouthed: “Are you okay?”

You nodded, resting your head on the mat, trying to breathe through the workout.

As you moved through various core strengthening exercises, you started to feel it. The hurting in your breasts, the kind of feeling that you tried to prevent from happening at all costs. The closest you could compare it to was rocks.

You felt yourself panicking when you looked at Junho who was paying attention to someone else. If you wouldn't leave now, it would be too late.

“I'll be back in a minute,” you told Sukyeong, scrambling up to shaky legs. Baekhyun's shirt was getting wet now, your sports bra quickly becoming a bucket full of milk. Making few quick steps, you walked over to the door when Junho spoke up:

“Oi, are you okay? Are you sick?” He came running to you by the entrance door.

You shook your head with a polite smile. “I really need to use the bathroom.”

“Oh, we will be finishing up soon,” he said, giving you a look. Right, kids in kindergarten were learning how to hold their pee in, not how to hold back the breast milk.

You were embarrassed, but you still said: “Well, I ate something bad and this won't wait any longer-” you pushed the door open and jogged for the toilets, already pushing up the soaked shirt. Once safely inside, you yanked down the sports bra and let the milk out. You exhaled a loud sigh of relief. You knew this would cause a little mess as it was several streaks that were leaking, the milk staining everything around.

Chewing your lips, you strained your ears when you heard commotion outside, the class most probably finished. You'd been in the toilets for at least ten minutes now, so you expected Sukyeong to come search for you soon.

There was a hasty knock on the door and you were fast to hide your chest back under the shirt. Then you heard your best friend's whisper: “It's just me! Can I come in?”

You were fast to give her the permission. She closed the door behind her and you took out your breasts again, the milk once again spraying everywhere. Sukyeong scratched her head, clueless. “I have a spare shirt. Here,” she handed you the white thermal-shirt.

You shook your head. “No, I cannot wear this. It'll stain and I bet the shirt was expensive,” you bit your lip. Before she could protest with a conflicted gaze, you just waved your hand nonchalantly. “I'll be done soon. It's already much better. Besides, I don't think I could push it over my chest. I'm huge,” you admitted quietly, a little embarrassed. You trusted Sukyeong and she would never joke or judge but it was still an uncomfortable situation only Baekhyun was allowed to witness. When you saw she wasn't convinced, you added with a smile: “Baekhyun gave me a sweater before coming here, so I will wear that. Go and get our stuff? I'll be out in a minute.”

“Will you be fine?” she said, her eyes widening in small fear at the sight of the milk.

“Of course,” you winked. She gave you a look over and when she was convinced, she turned, leaving you in the toilets alone.

Just a few minutes later and the flow finally calmed down. You took some toilet paper, wiping yourself up before cleaning up the surroundings. You were drained and you didn't even finish the workout.

When you were sure everything looked decent, you finally walked back to the gym. It was empty; only some distant sounds of chattering coming your way. Sukyeong was in the corner, entertaining the trainer.

“Are you okay?” he asked you when you walked over to them, taking your bag and your phone along the way. Junho didn't look necessarily worried, but he seemed to care enough about his clients which you found good enough.

“Yes,” you smiled half-heartedly. “Thank you.”

Sukyeong bowed to Junho. “Then we will take our leave!”

“Alright, it was nice meeting you. I will see you on Thursday, ladies,” he pressed a smile, bowing politely. He kept following you with his sharp eyes and, unconsciously, you became shy under his scrutiny. There was something happening whenever your eyes met and you weren't sure what it was. Maybe you were just making it up because he was handsome and you wanted to believe he had an eye for you. It would make you feel like you could have been special.

“Goodness, what a hotshot,” murmured Sukyeong to you as the both of you left the premises of the gym. “He is so smart!”

You sighed, quickly putting on the sweater Baekhyun pushed into your hand before leaving the apartment. You will be sweaty, make sure to wear this once you're done, he would tell you. “You managed to get something out of him?”

“Doesn't seem to be here just to eye the girls,”she informed you proudly as she slugged her bag over her shoulder. “So that is a plus point!”

She led the both of you to the carpark, her shiny small Kia awaiting you near the exit. It was a good idea to park it nearby as you didn't have to walk more on your wobbly legs. Once seated inside, you threw your bag on the backseat and sighed, leaning your head back against the headrest.

“Are you alright?” asked Sukyeong, uncertainty evident in her eyes as she placed her bag behind her seat and turned back front, pressing the button to bring the car to life.

You nodded, though she couldn't see you. “I'm okay, thank you.” You hesitated. “Maybe a little embarrassed,” you finally admitted, staring out of your window to see other women entering their cars. Many of them owned Mercedes' or BMWs and you instantly wondered how they were able to afford such a car at such a young age.

“Oh, dear, no.” Sukyeong was fast to turn to grab your thigh, trying to bring your diverted attention to her. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I literally told him if I don't leave I will poo myself,” you whined and turned to her dramatically.

Sukyeong was about to refute but she stopped, surprised at your words. “Wait, you told him that?”

You nodded, exasperated. “I told the handsome dude I can't keep it in if he won't let me leave. I couldn't possibly tell him: yo, move or else I'll shoot you down with my breastmilk now, could I?”

She burst out into a huge laughter, her nose scrunching up in the process. “Well, if you say it like that!”

Both of you were now laughing, though you were more on the desperate side. You really made an idiot out of yourself while still having the issue of controlling your milk.

“You know, I think it would be good to tease Baekhyun a little bit. I told you that you shouldn’t let him prioritize his job. If he does it you need to show him you aren’t someone he can take for granted.”

Your joyful smile slowly melted into a frown. “Baekhyun never took me for granted and you also know it.”

“Of course I know it! I’d trust Baekhyun with my life,” she insisted quickly and started driving out of the car park and out to the busy Seoul traffic. It was incredible how this city never slept. “I’m just trying to say that a little bit of teasing never hurt anyone. You’re now a mother and you have three kids together.”

Small silence took over the car. You were looking out of the window, enjoying the unusual luxury of being in a car instead of a packed bus while your mind was roaming over what your friend said. “So, you say our relationship can become rusty? He would lose interest after some time now that I’m not so... fresh?”

Sukyeong breathed out a small laugh at the choice of your words. “I doubt Baekhyun would get tired of you. Ever. It is true that men see their women differently after birthing their children.” She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, thinking over what to tell you. “You’re only twenty-three —you’re too young, so make sure to let him know you’re still full of life and can become hard to tie down.”

You let out a doubtful snort but you felt uneasy at the topic. It never occurred to you that one day you and Baekhyun wouldn’t be together. It never occurred to you that you could lose love for each other because both of your interests would change and he would seek consolation from another partner and maybe you would stay alone. This wasn’t a new thought to you; Jiyoung, Baekhyun’s ex colleague, was challenging you more than enough in the past but even then you knew Baekhyun wasn’t interested in her. What if he found someone that actually piqued his interest?

You shook your head quickly, rejecting the ugly idea. “You city girls have a very interesting way of thinking.”

“Just do it.” Sukyeong looked at you with excited eyes when she stopped at another red light. “Mention a hot trainer and see what’ll happen,” she told you wickedly, giggling.

Upon arriving at home, you were met with Baekhyun's high-pitched talk. It calmed you down right away, and you felt like in safe haven after the small fight in the gym.

“I'm home,” you sing-sang, dropping the bag down by the entrance and taking off the sweater.

Baekhyun faked a gasp. “Who is it, Jun? Is it mummy? Let's check it out quickly!” And within a second, he appeared with Jun hanging off his connected arms, pretending he was on an airplane. Even though you trusted Baekhyun with keeping the baby safe in his arms, it gave you a little heart attack. Besides, triplets were still too small for that. “Look, Jun, it's mummy!” he exclaimed while looking over his shoulder, most probably checking Juna and Junhee. “Welcome home, babe,” he told you with a leveled voice, looking at you now. He adjusted Jun in his arms, having his head on his shoulder while you took off your shoes, watching him.

Your husband looked so incredibly soft. His hair was now covering his forehead, somehow making his eyes look much more puppy-eyed, just like the baby he was holding. Despite being so wide and incredibly manly, you had the urge to squeeze his cheeks like you would do to your triplets, because he was so adorable, so loveable. He was wearing his huge white T-shirt and black pants and no socks; the typical look when he was home, but for some reason, after going through challenges in the gym, you felt like he was much more inviting and cuddly, providing you comfort by simply being him, by simply staring at you with those soft eyes. He was so Baekhyun.

“I see you are having a good time,” you noted with a smile and stood on your tiptoes when Baekhyun demanded a kiss with puckered lips like a little duck. You made sure to cradle Jun’s tiny butt, your expert hand immediately knowing he had a change of the nappy recently.

“Now it's much better,” he muttered, kissing you with a loud smooch. “How was the work-out?” he asked when he straightened up, rocking Jun exaggeratedly in his arms. Just then, his eyes dropped to your chest, the white stains very much obvious on the black textile. “Shit, did you leak?”

You shrugged, not wanting to talk about it as you walked past him to greet your daughters that were on the playmat with their little toys. “I should have known better.” Baekhyun followed you, watching as you sat down and kissed the two baby girls. “Time to change the nappies over here, hm?” Your voice was light as you touched the babies’ butts but you were surprised when they were all clean, too. Baekhyun must have worked hard during your absence.

“Sweetheart, we should go to the doctor's,” Baekhyun told you as he sat down on the couch in front of the play mat. Jun squirmed in his arms, whimpering, so he laid him gently on the blanket that was splayed next to him. “I don't like this and they could solve the issue.”

You took Junhee's tiny feet into your hands, massaging them, the skin incredibly smooth under your palm. “I'm scared they will do something that will prevent me from feeding them.”

“You know it doesn't matter whether you feed them breast milk or we give them formula. You breastfed long enough anyway. This is about your well-being, too.”

“I just want them to be close to me as much as possible,” you said, lowering your voice. It made you remember how you didn’t even think much about feeding your kids while being pregnant, and now here you were, reluctant to let go of breastfeeding. Three babies was a lot of hard work, but it was always your dream to be a mother. You wanted to make sure you really didn’t have a choice before you would make a decision. Baekhyun was correct, but you still believed the longer you were with the babies the stronger would be your bond with them. “It's a good way for them to be connected to me.”

Baekhyun observed you for a moment before checking Jun whose feet were up in the air, his tiny hands coming up to pat on them clumsily. He was a little baby ball discovering all the possible movements his body was slowly able to make. “I understand. I just want you to know that it isn't a bad thing if you stop doing it. Some women can't breastfeed at all.”

“Because they are unable to, Baekhyun.” The way your voice had an edge to it made you look up at him to catch a little panic in his eyes. He didn't want to make you upset and you felt guilty right away. “I am perfectly able to provide them with milk, but I overproduce and yes it makes my life a little more difficult but I don’t want to lose this opportunity. I'd rather not go.”

“Okay, as you wish,” he gave up quickly, not wanting to argue. He understood why you would be upset. And usually, he would try to be more persistent since he didn’t want you to suffer but he could sense your damp mood; the workout most probably gave you a harder time, he guessed. And, of course, he, as a man, couldn't comprehend completely what you were going through when your milk was flowing from you like an unstoppable mountain stream.

You hummed and stood up, your ankles sighing at the movement. “I'll go wash up.”

Baekhyun followed you with his gaze until you disappeared in the corridor that led towards your shared bedroom. He looked back down at Jun and then at the girls on the mat. “Well, what shall we do to make mummy feel better?” he pouted at them.

Small baby gurgles came back to him in response. “Right, I agree,” he replied thoughtfully. He was quiet for a moment, only hearing the distant sounds from the TV and your movements in the bedroom. Checking the clock on the opposite wall, he was fast to jump up. “Now, you naughty kids, it’s way past your bedtime and you still don’t sleep! Let’s get you all to the crib before mommy comes back!”

Since the triplets were calm, he knew they would fall asleep soon. He made sure their energy would be somehow drained while you were away although he was sure he used up more energy than they did. It was difficult to work with infants and he didn’t know how you managed it on a daily basis nonstop. Another reason for him to admire and respect you.

“I’ll see you whenever you wake us up,” he told them when he put Jun, the last baby, in the crib. He laughed gently to himself and observed his offsprings with a tender gaze. He had to admit that Jun looked like him when he was a baby. Junhee was definitely your splitting image while Juna seemed to be in the middle, though her eyes were Baekhyun’s, too. She was the perfect mix of you and him.

He wondered which one of them would love hapkido. He wondered which one of them would be smart in mathematics like you were. Which one of them would hate foreign languages and cucumbers? Which one of them would cry the most in the kindergarten and which one of them would always be the quiet one? Baekhyun hoped and wished that the triplets would have a special bond that would always protect them from getting hurt by other people. After all, the world kept getting harsher and harsher day by day.

“I’ll always be there for you,” he whispered just when Junhee’s eyes closed, her small mouth hanging open when she let go of the pacifier. “You’ll always have me and mummy to protect you. Always.”

You took your time in the bathroom. Muscles you didn't know existed were aching, so you took the luxury to let yourself be soaked in warm water a little bit longer. There was a soft knock on the door and you quickly let Baekhyun enter.

He was expressionless but when you locked eyes as he closed the door with his back, he pulled a smile meant only for you. “Do you feel better?” he asked quietly, setting the monitor on the sink before walking up to you. He leaned down, pecking you on the top of your head.

“Much better,” you sighed, closing your eyes when you felt his hand slide down your cheek and to your neck. Since he brought in the monitor with him, you took it he managed to put the babies to sleep. It only made you feel worse that you still could become irritated at such a good husband like Baekhyun. “Sorry I snapped at you.”

“No,” he was fast to mutter against your hair, his thumb grazing the skin on your jaw. “I understand. I am just worried, is all.”

“I know, and I don't appreciate it enough,” you replied and Baekhyun pulled away to look down at you with crinkled eyes.

“You do much more, sweetheart. Don't be so harsh on yourself, hm?” He let go of you and slid down next to the bathtub, his back against it. You had the urge to splash him with water but you decided you would have a water fight another day. “Besides, you went to work out after a full day of mothering. It's only natural you'd be frustrated.”

“If only you couldn't read me so well.”

Baekhyun smiled to himself. “How could I tease you if I wouldn't know my wife so well, hm?”

He heard you let out a small chuckle from behind him. “Life would be so much easier.”

Your husband laughed and turned his head to look at you over his shoulder. Water was just barely covering your chest, your cheeks were rosy from the heat and your baby hair was curled up from the humidity. Goodness, he couldn't stop staring. You looked like an angel.

“What?” you murmured, his intense gaze making you pink even more.

“Nothing,” was his breathy reply. “Just admiring my gorgeous little lady.”

With a shy smile, you sat up, causing small waves in the bathtub, and you pressed your lips to his pouty ones. His eyes widened playfully and when you wanted to pull back, he chased your lips, grounding you. You smiled, bringing your wet hand up to his cheek, but he didn't react to the wetness, simply prolonging the innocent kiss. “You know,” you told him when you separated, your noses still touching. Baekhyun hummed in interest, watching your lips before he flickered his orbs up to yours. “There was a really hot guy in the gym.”

Baekhyun blinked a couple of times, letting your words sink in and he was fast to withdraw from you. “What?”

You giggled, satisfied at his reaction. It wasn't that bad to listen to Sukyeong's offer after all. “Yes, he was the one leading the class today.”

“A hot guy leading a class for women?” he repeated, surprised.

Now then, why did he ever expect you to just not pay attention to other males? You never did, or so he thought, but he was still taken aback. The way your eyes sparkled in mischief was an obvious sign that you were just trying to rile him up for whatever reason, yet he still felt a little protective. Did that man look at you, too?!

“Why, you don't like it?” you quipped, poking your tongue out to him.

He observed you giggling, your eyes crinkled up when you took note of his disapproval. Something moved within him. “You want me to like it?”

You sighed lovingly and booped his nose. “I want you to like me, silly. I’m just playing around.”

Baekhyun huffed, offended, and spoke in a prominent pout: “I don't like it, young lady. You have me. You have triplets with me. I love you. And you love me.”

“That, I do.” Bringing up in the air your left hand, you looked how the band on your fourth finger caught the light in the bathroom. “And here is the proof.”

He was looking up at your hand and he joined it with his, his own ring shining just like yours. He enveloped his fingers around yours gently. “Why would you try to make oppa worried about such things?” murmured Baekhyun in wonder as he stood up and towered over you. He let go of your hand and leaned further down so his face was close to yours, his long neck chain swaying in the air between you. “Oppa doesn't like sharing, but you know that, right?”

You nodded, awaiting his next words. Except, it wasn't words. Baekhyun surprised you by swiftly lowering his hands into the warm water to grab a hold of you under your knees and waist. You squealed, suddenly scared you might slip out of his grip so you quickly circled your arms around his neck, water splashing everywhere. But seeing his biceps flexing you knew he was much better than Lee Junho or any other trainer there was.

“I'm naked and wet, Baekhyun!” you screamed and Baekhyun laughed loudly, enjoying your little panic as he moved you out of the bathtub, bringing you over where the sink was.

“Hmm, exactly,” he hummed in appreciation, his eyes twinkled and you quickly hid your face in his neck, embarrassed. “You don't get to play with oppa's heart like that and not get punished, baby girl.”

Despite the excitement, he put you down, more worried about you catching a cold than teasing the hell out of you. As soon as your legs were on the floor, you slapped his chest, making the male groan. “You silly! You could have dropped me!”

“I would never,” he denied quietly, pecking you sweetly and reaching for the towel that was hanging next to the bathtub. “And don't forget,” he reminded, wrapping the towel around your shoulders, making sure it was catching every drop of water, “that you still have a punishment list from when you were pregnant. Don't think I forgot.”

Your eyes widened in horror and you frowned at him like a little kid though secretly you really thought he had forgotten. “You are being so mean right now!”

Baekhyun only smirked and tapped your naked bum gently as he brought your body closer. “You asked for it. From now on, I won't hold back anymore,” he murmured, brushing your hair behind your ear. It tickled.

There were feelings of excitement, eagerness and curiosity bubbling in your tummy, or maybe those were just the butterflies Baekhyun awakened whenever he did something heart-fluttering and challenging to your relationship. It was a long time since you two had been together, but finding ways to ignite the passion and desire in the both of you was Baekhyun's specialty. And you would try to make it yours, now that you seemed to find a weak spot of his.

“You can start by kissing me as a thank you for bringing you out of the tub,” he said when you didn't reply.

You scoffed and re-adjusted the towel, bringing it around your body. It made you feel conscious that you were completely naked in front of him, although Baekhyun didn't even pay attention. His own clothes were wet since he brought you out of the water. The white tshirt was stuck to his stomach, perfectly outlining his muscles.

Baekhyun pursed his lips when you didn't listen. You turned to walk out of the bathroom but he was fast to grab your wrist, turning you back to him. “I said, give me a kiss.”

“No!” You shook your head resolutely, sticking your lower lip out as you frowned, hoping to make him agitated.

The excitement in you only doubled when Baekhyun quirked an eyebrow, leaning his head closer to yours and turning his smooth cheek towards you as he tapped his long index finger on it. “C’mon, a peck for oppa.”

His other hand sneakily wandered to your side to tickle you and you were fast to giggle crazily, pushing his hand away. “Okay, okay,” you said quickly and pressed your lips to his awaiting cheek. He hummed, feeling your mouth stretched in a smile and he turned his face, his lips colliding with yours.

You squealed, wanting to step back - because he was being unfair - but his hands sneaked around your waist, bringing you to him and therefore successfully caging you in. He urged your mouth open, slowly pushing his tongue into your cavern that became quickly eager to feel him. You sighed and slid your hands up his sturdy chest. You nibbled on his lip though he quickly stopped you when he sucked on your tongue hard, bringing out a small moan out of you. He made out with you sensually and you knew you were becoming giddy because of him.

He let his hands grope your bum, giving a good massage to your aching muscles and you moaned again, satisfied. “I guess I will have to show you a much better workout routine,” Baekhyun whispered when he let go of your lips with a smack.

Your heart skipped a beat when you realized there really wasn’t anything standing in your way. The triplets were asleep and Baekhyun riled you up so much it would be difficult to lie down next to him without touching him. “Then show me, oppa,” you made sure to emphasize the “p” sound, his twinkly eyes on your swollen lips.

He chuckled lovingly and kissed your forehead, his lips leaving a bit of moisture behind. Gently intertwining your hands, he led you out of the bathroom and straight to your bed.

“Lie down for me, sweetheart,” he told you quietly as he went to close the bedroom door. Once you got the needed privacy, he reached behind him, pulling on the shirt that he swiftly took off, your eyes appreciating the way his muscles flexed. He threw it on the floor and walked over to you, already lying on bed as he told you to. “Let me remind you that you’re oppa’s,” he mumbled with passion, already distracted by your body that was still covered with the towel.

His words ignited the desire in you and when he hovered over you with a focused gaze, you knew this would be a long night for the both of you.

On Thursday, you went to the gym with determination. The reason was simple: two babies hanging off you and one hanging off of Sukyeong. Baekhyun was running late from work so you had to bring them with you this time. Despite your huge worries, you had to drop them off at the baby corner. The kind, elderly lady showed you the young babysitter that would be in charge of your triplets (after everyone stopped ogling them and squealing about how cute they were). Her name was Sonhee and her smile was the purest you had ever laid eyes on. Her face was gentle and her eyes seemed to be telling a story of a difficult life. What was a little interesting was that you had a feeling you had seen her somewhere before and it wasn't in this gym.

“Do you have any license to prove that she is capable of taking care of three infants?” barged into the conversation Sukyeong, her eyes suspiciously looking over the girl. Even though you had the same question, you wouldn't have uttered it so bluntly. “She looks too young. Even younger than their mother,” she added with a huff.

The lady in charge, Mrs Lee, didn’t show her shock - that was if there was any. “She is the eldest sibling in her family. At home, she is taking care of five more siblings and she is a kindergarten teacher in practice during the school year.”

Your mouth shaped an “o”, nodding thoughtfully and you quickly nudged Sukyeong, catching her opening her mouth to rebut again. “Thank you. I know Sonhee won't do anything to undermine my trust.”

“I will do my best.” Sonhee bowed the perfect 90 degrees and you quickly lowered your head as well, accepting her respect. “I will make sure nothing bad will happen!”

You smiled and quickly looked over the triplets again. They were three months old and you would already let them be with a stranger. Were you still considered a responsible and good mother?

“All the rich mothers do it and they are considered great for doing it,” answered your question Sukyeong in a monotone as you were walking to the gym. “It is just sixty minutes - what can happen during such a short time?”

You frowned, pouting. “Oh, once you'll have kids, you will know, Sukyeong-ah,” you mumbled under your breath. With babies, things could go wrong within seconds. What made Sukyeong ever believe leaving babies alone for sixty minutes was safe?

“Well, it'll be fine!” she smiled brightly as you entered a still empty gym. You put your bag and phone down, and noticed the last message Baekhyun wrote:

sorry again baby enjoy your workout let me know if the munchkins were okay when you dropped them off love you baby ❤️

Your heart fluttered at the last sentence and you shot him a quick reply with an update when you heard the door of the gym opening, you trainer, Lee Junho, appearing.

He had a sleeveless sports shirt that showed his defined arms and boy, was he chunky in all the right ways. You were the first one his eyes fell on and his straight lips stretched into a delightful smile. To your surprise, he called your name: “Hello! You came already today! Ah, Sukyeong, too!”

You gave him a shy smile and caught him looking quickly over your outfit. The typical. Baekhyun's huge shirt with old pants that your legs could get lost in. You wouldn't be wearing leggins any time soon, you swore. All the ladies wore tight pilates clothing, so you were aware you looked like a trash bag but you never felt more comfortable. Just to see whether Junho let something on in his face, you watched him, but he only diverted his attention to Sukyeong who greeted him with a wide smile.

“Were you alright on Tuesday after the class?” asked Junho as he started to stretch on the floor.

Sukyeong, wanting to be a good student, followed him while you were still standing, the phone in your hands vibrating with most probably incoming messages from your husband. You pinked.

“Ye-yeah, I was … okay,” you mumbled. You already forgot about the stupid lie you made up so he would let you go to the troilets on Tuesday. Baekhyun made sure you forgot about every sane thought that night, so in conclusion, you were more than alright after class on Tuesday.

Junho nodded attentively. “Well, you can try to take it easier today, I won’t mind,” he winked with a grin.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Alright.”

“Is it exam season at uni that has you so stressed?” was his next question when he reached for his stretched out feet.

“Sorry?”

“Ah, right, well she could easily be a uni student,” giggled Sukyeong, looking at you. “My friend is still so young. She shouldn’t be so stressed, right, Junho?”

Junho watched your friend from the corner of his eye with amusement. “It would be great if no one had any stress in their lives.”

Deciding not to answer, you wanted to check your messages but the rest of the class started to arrive, so you joined Sukyeong instead. Stretching was always a good choice and Baekhyun told you about the importance of warming up properly.

“He seems to be interested in you,” whispered Sukyeong eagerly when Junho became busy replying to his fangirl students. “You piqued his curiosity!”

“Shh, stop that!” you winced, pushing her. She was spitting nonsense to tease you but- why was your heart skipping like that?!

After waiting for five more minutes, you started the workout. Even though you were already terrible, you had a weird anxiety from Junho. Maybe it was Sukyeong’s teasing that made you weirdly conscious of his gaze whenever he looked your way or looked directly at you.

You were sweating like a pig, your face shiny from the perspiration but you were determined not to give up. It was for your own benefit, your own health and if you worked on yourself, you could carry the triplets and carry the groceries - you could become a physically acclaimed superwoman!

“Make sure to straighten your back when you do the plank!” shouted Junho over the loud music just when he walked by you. Stopping, he crouched down and placed his hand first between your shoulder blades. “Keep it straight for me,” he told you and then both of his hands landed on your hips, making you go stiff under his touch. “Hips square to the mat. Make sure to squeeze your abs to keep your core strong and balanced,” he was telling in a hushed tone that felt weirdly intimate to you.

“I don’t have abs,” you heaved out, your arms shaking as you tried to keep the plank straight and correct. Junho huffed a laugh, standing up. “Well, you're doing great anyway!”

Feeling the relief when you saw him walk away, you heaved out a heavy sigh, focusing on being in the moment and imagining becoming strong; for yourself. For the babies. For Baekhyun. You could do it-

There was a distant shout calling out for your name. Recognizing the voice of Mrs Lee, you almost fell face-first on the ground from panic when you registered her words.

“Jun wouldn’t stop throwing up!”

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

A/N: Second chapter - done! But Jun :( What do you think about Junho? And Baek was busy, oh well...

Your feedback for the first part was SO NICE! Thank you to everyone who took the time to write me a comment in any form. Its so, so appreciated!

See you soon!

P.S. some people took notice AND pointed it out (which made me feel so happyyy!) that Baekhyun and OC seem to talk a lot in oppa/younger girl reference. That stems deeply from the prequel times when OC referred to him only as oppa (no, referring to Baekhyun - or any older male that is not too old, and the situation allows it - as oppa is not wrong as everyone is portraying it out in the "weirded out" culture. Baekhyun is older than OC and now it became a small game for him; after all, he loves that she is younger and he can take care of her and with the addition of triplets, he wants to embrace this a little more. Also, bear in mind they are both quite young!). So when I get to write the prequel, it will only be their oppa/younger-girl relationship! ^^ (which is why also in Captain Bucheon Lee Nari refers to Baekhyun’s character as oppa - same reason).

#baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun au #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun #exo fluff #exo angst #exo smut #exo fanfiction #mywritings #AY #pregnancy au #family au

111 notes · View notes

losingitinjersey · 3 years

Photo

To follow-up from my post this morning regarding the walking group fears/anxieties...

I leave my house at 8:13 a.m., giving me 9 minutes to get to the meeting spot (for a 4 minute walk). I arrive at the address and see no one around, so I sit at the empty bench thinking how this must be the right place since there’s a bench. At 8:21 a.m. (one minute before the start of the walk) I text the realtor lady to double check I’m in the right place since I see no one else. She responds asking if I’m in the back parking lot? Um, no, you never told me that’s where to meet the group, so of course that’s not where I am. I get up and start walking around the block to find the parking lot. She then texts and says that she isn’t going to make it this morning and she meant to text me. WHAT.

I get to the parking lot and see no one around and I instantly feel like sobbing and running away simultaneously. I’m texting with the realtor letting her know I don’t see anyone back here but it’s fine! It was a good opportunity to get up and out the door and I’ll go exploring on my own - already deciding that I want nothing to do with this group and I need to bolt immediately. The next text is her telling me that someone is coming to find me. NOoooo! I can’t leave now! I wait around and a woman comes out of the building asking if I’m here for the walking group and then we proceed to walk FAST to catch up with everyone else.

Turns out, the group that showed up today was five women all in their mid-late 70s! Ha! And they are MOVING. Definitely not a meandering pace here, but going every which way, up and over the curbs, in the middle of the streets, turning on a dime to try a different direction, going up and down trails and all over the place. Soooo glad I didn’t bring erp with me. Since there were five of them plus me we pretty much paired up into groups of two and walked, socially distanced. When I arrived in my mask the lady who found me asked if I was vaccinated, which hooray! I am!, and that the entire group is too, so no masks are required with the group so that was nice to know they took it seriously and were being careful. She said they never do the same route twice and that they go wherever their interests take them. Fun! But also, soooo not me who never once deviated from the path I plotted out back in my old neighborhood.

While it was an awkward beginning, and a super fast paced roughly 2 mile walk (I started my tracker late), I’m ultimately glad I didn’t run away like I wanted to. This was good for me. And while I 100% prefer to walk on my own so I can stop and take all the pictures, listen to my books and escape in my head, this is a good option and something I need to figure out if I want to commit to, especially since I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring erp. Although, I’m sure they would accommodate me if I did.

Before I left, I woke Kevin up to take over erp duty while I was gone and when I came back an hour later I found him sleeping on the couch with the house destroyed. I explained to him that I can’t go on these walks if this is what happens and he said that he wants me to keep going and he’ll make it work, he’ll not fall asleep again and will make sure this is something I can keep up with. I appreciated his insistence and commitment to be a more alert parent next time, but also - I’m only going to get more pregnant and slower! I’ll give it another go and see how it is once I get more practice in. I need to remind myself that I really haven’t done any exercise or gone on a walk in a few months so of course this winded me.

A few hours later we head out to the farmer’s market! Ever since moving to VA we’ve attempted several farmer’s markets and they’ve all sucked big time - being mostly craft based with not much produce or products. Thankfully, this one was more up to speed with what we’re familiar with and we had SUCH a great time walking around as a family! I had to get erp up from a nap to make it in time before the market closed an hour later, but she was so good just looking at everything from her stroller! This was, by far, the most people she’s ever been around. We did the first loop to check out what was there then during our second loop around we made all the purchases of all the things including some cold brew that so hit the spot.

Please keep in mind that my legs were already dead from this morning’s activities. Then I wore these sandals that, while cute and chosen specifically for their ability to support my feet better than flats or flip flops, weren’t nearly as supportive as tennis shoes. Pair those two aspects with the fact that the ground wasn’t flat and had either gravel, dirt, grass or uneven cobblestone and I was a slow, careful walker who was ready to sit at any moment but didn’t for the entire hour and a half we were out.

We walked around the market twice, then decided to stroll around the area since it looked so cute. And omg, it was SO CUTE. So many little shops and restaurants. There was even a dude with a mic singing songs on the street and people sitting at tables enjoying the day. Soooo many people were out but everyone (including us) were all masked up so it felt okay. Can’t wait to come back and take the in-laws to the area when they visit in a few weeks!

Such an active, fulfilling morning!! Now please excuse me while I sit and never get up again.

#please don't reblog #momblr #16 months #pregblr #23w6d #walkblr #farmers market #ootd #plus size pregnancy

45 notes · View notes

rextasywrites · 3 years

Text

Little Darling 8 - a Lady Dimitrescu x Mia Winters fanfiction

"Lady Dimitrescu closed her note book, putting the pen aside. It was three in the morning and the women had to prepare their journey to the lab. It would take them an hour maximum, but they needed knives and other weapons...just in case. Lady Dimitrescu left her studies, hearing faint snoring from Mia’s room. She decided to give the human some more rest as she needed it, especially after the devastating news. "

the attack is coming close. what is happening in the lab?

after a short break for this fanfic i am back with an update! don’t forget, i opened requests too! read my pinned post and feel free to send me your ideas!

Warnings: mentions of various life problems including having a mutant baby

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

“Pregnant? Me? How...how are you supposed to know?”, Mia frowned, not believing what Alcina was telling her. Alcina sighed as she wiped her mouth clean from the last bit of blood, looking at Mia. How could she explain this…

“Pregnant women have a different tasting blood. A bit sweeter than usual, not as sweet as diabetic person, but sweeter than the usual person’s. It is also a certain tingle on the tongue from all the different hormones mixed together. I have tasted enough pregnant women in my life to know that you are pregnant too.”

“...fuck.”, Mia sighed as she leaned back on the bed, her head against the wall. She lifted up her shirt, enough to expose her stomach. “Not again.”

“I…”, Alcina started, but Mia placed a finger on her lips, making the vampire shut up. “Don’t say anything right now Alcina. Please. I need a moment for myself. Please...just leave.”

Mia touched her throat as a lump started to foam, not knowing if it was because of anxiety or the overwhelming dread that she was pregnant with another mutant, or… Alcina had left the room to give Mia some air, something she desperately needed. She couldn’t be far along. Maybe a month and a half. When was the last time she slept with Ethan…?

As her fingers trailed over her belly and the minutes dripped down to Hour Zero, she knew she’d have to do something with this baby. She didn’t know what yet or how to handle the whole situation, but she couldn’t let it get kidnapped like Rosy. But Rosy had highest priority at this moment.

Alcina stayed in her studies, going over the plan of their attack again. Cassandra and Bela were great fighters, but Daniela was the best, only her bloodlust alone made her the greatest of the trio. Alcina was proud of all three and how they evolved from women left to die to fighting machines and grande A vampires.

Once they had Rosy, they’d take her to safety in the castle. The lycans were informed and ready to guard the castle in case shit would go down. But Lady Dimitrescu didn’t hope for this outcome.

Rosy would need to be nursed back to health after being away from her parents for so long, without any real human touch and contact. That’s a trauma that could change a child’s life forever, especially if it lived with a mutation like Rosy.

As soon as Rosy would be healthy enough, Lady Dimitrescu would take blood from her to develop her own ‘vaccine’. A vaccine that would make her even stronger than she already was, and no Umbrella or Redfield could stop her. Then, she would make Mia part of her coven. Rosy should be given time to grow up, but once she was old enough, Lady Dimitrescu would turn her too. Given her mutation, she would be the perfect vampire and ready to lead over the world. With another baby on the way, they could even make a double pack of the perfect vampires...and nothing and no one could stop her.

Lady Dimitrescu closed her note book, putting the pen aside. It was three in the morning and the women had to prepare their journey to the lab. It would take them an hour maximum, but they needed knives and other weapons...just in case. Lady Dimitrescu left her studies, hearing faint snoring from Mia’s room. She decided to give the human some more rest as she needed it, especially after the devastating news.

Chris stepped towards the cell, watching the child in there. She was currently occupied with some stuffed animals and a barbie, making the two talk to each other in different pitches of her voice. “Oh no, Mister Stuffles, we cannot get married! I love Richard and not you!” “Oh, why Jen? Is it because Richard has more money?” “He has the word rich in his name!”

“Have you given her the fish crackers she asked for?”, Chris leaned over to one of the scientists observing Rosy, his question being confirmed. A small bowl was next to the bed on a table. A tablet with a youtube video about some watermelon singing to children was playing.

Chris paced back and forth - he never expected the situation to escalate like this. The mutation passed down from Ethan was stronger than they had previously anticipated. Mixed together with the vaccine Mia received at the Baker’s house...what an explosive mixture they had created.

“When did she age up so quickly? When I left yesterday evening, she was nothing but a baby sucking on her thumb.”, Chris questioned the next scientist. “How is the vaccine going ahead?”

“Rather slow. It will take a few more days until her blood is completely identified and taking out the remaining D-series and E-series DNS.”

“D and E-series?”, Chris frowned at the mention of both types in Rosemary’s body.

“Yes, both types. D-series from the vaccine her mother received in 2017, E-series from her father who still deals with the mold infection.”

“But how...how did she age up so fast?”

“Mr. Redfield...I suppose the kidnapping triggered some kind of trauma in her system. Do you remember? E-001 aged up quickly too. The different types of serieses must be responsible for this, but we are not completely sure by now.”

Suddenly, a scream was heard from the cell Rosy was kept in, the one-way glass splitting due to its pitch and volume - like a jet was taking off. “I want my Mommy! I want my Daddy! Where are Mommy and Daddy?!?!”

#resident evil #lady dimitrescu #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #mia winters

32 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Text

Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3) - on tumblr: pt 1

- Chapter 2 -

It turned out that the party had been a meeting of important cultivators, sect leaders, and that meant, of course, that his father had been there.

His father. No wonder his mother had been so excited!

And even knowing that nothing had come of it, that his mother had returned empty-handed, despite himself, when he heard it, Meng Yao was excited, too, feeling a frisson of hope run down his spine. He regretted, now, that he hadn’t been able to go to the party as a server, thinking of the might-have-beens if he’d gone, if he’d done something to impress the man, if his father had finally decided to take them away from this place –

“He was too drunk to recognize me,” his mother said, sad and eyes distant. “And some of the younger girls had gotten to him first…I couldn’t catch his eye, and in the end they sent me away with one of the other sect leaders.”

As a joke, she didn’t say, an old whore with a man too drunk to tell the difference, but Meng Yao wouldn’t guess at that truth, the source of so much bitterness, until much later.

“Not Wen Ruohan, right?” Meng Yao asked, and breathed a sigh of relief when she shook her head.

“You shouldn’t refer to your elders by name, A-Yao,” she reminded him, always trying to teach him etiquette – though now that he thought about it, Nie Mingjue had used the man’s name directly, too. Maybe it was his way of trying to make the man seem less scary. “It would be ‘Sect Leader Wen’…and how do you know any of the sect leader’s names, anyway?”

“A cultivator came here last night,” Meng Yao explained. “He gave me a qiankun pouch, and some money –”

“In return for what?” His mother’s voice was sharp. “A-Yao, I told you, you’re not allowed to make deals with people –”

Meng Yao’s shoulders went up by his ears. He knew what she really meant, that he wasn’t allowed to sell himself or his body because it’d give him a bad reputation in the future; he wasn’t allowed even if it meant the difference between a hungry night and a full one, a freezing one and a warm one.

“I didn’t do that,” he muttered. “I just –”

“There’s no just. No deals at all, A-Yao; if you get into the habit of seeing everything as something you can buy or sell, then it’s only a matter of time before someone buys you.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Meng Yao protested. “He gave me a pouch, and he said –”

It was the wrong thing to say, especially after a disappointment like last night, and his mother started scolding him fiercely, alternating with tears, and in the end he decided it was better to say nothing.

Nie Mingjue would come back with the manual, the way he’d come back with the money, or else he wouldn’t, and either way there was nothing Meng Yao could do about it.

And anyway, after a few months, he realized he had bigger problems.

It started pretty unnoticeably: a tightness in his mother’s face, an unusual refusal to take on clients for the more lucrative type of engagements, spending more on food than usual…at first Meng Yao thought that it was only that she was happy to have money again, even if it spilled through their fingers like sand on getting her new clothing and better make-up, larger shoes for Meng Yao and a warm coat, only slightly torn from previous use.

He’d been worried, although not unduly so, when she’d started being sick sometimes – she’d claimed it was food poisoning, and they had been eating more meat than usual, so maybe…

Foolish.

One of the other ladies called it out one day in mockery, not a single doubt in her voice, and his mother didn’t deny it. Meng Yao’s stomach dropped, his heart frozen in terror.

Pregnant.

Again.

And she hadn’t taken any steps to get rid of it, the way she should have – whores had their ways, even if they weren’t perfect, and his mother knew enough of them. He knew that she would have been acting very differently if she intended to abort, would have been less cautious, less resistant, less –

She’d bedded a sect leader at that party, he remembered, doing the miserable math on his fingers. Not his father again, no, she wouldn’t make that mistake twice - would she? She’d gone there to see him, after all.

No, in the end, she was still counting on Meng Yao to earn his way into his father’s graces on his own, for the sake of both of them. But she had gone to bed with another one, and if it had taken…

Meng Yao knew his mother loved him, but for the first time in his life, he feared losing that love.

He tried to keep his fears to himself, tried not to burden her, but in the end he was a child and not yet good enough at hiding his expressions; she spotted him soon enough, took him into her arms and coaxed his fears from him.

“You silly goose, A-Yao. Don’t you know it’s for you?” she whispered in his ear, putting his hand on her belly. “I’m too old and sick to have a strong child, all the doctors said so; even if this one is born, he’ll be weak and sickly, likely to be swept away by the first chill of winter. I don’t need that sect leader to support me – we know already that they won’t do that. I just need him to feel guilty enough to take you with him back to his sect as recompense for having burdened me with a child that was lost.”

Meng Yao felt a touch of ice run down his spine. “But...what if the child lives through the winter?”

“There are many ways for a child to die,” his mother said, and her voice was calm and gentle, a pool undisturbed by the ripples beneath, just the way she’d always taught him. “Only some of them are winter.”

Meng Yao knew his mother loved him, but for the first time in his life, he feared what that love might mean.

His mother had grown cunning since his birth and more cynical since his father’s most recent rejection. She decided not to write to the sect leader with the news at once – that would be risking a rejection, a dismissal, an accusation that the child could be someone else’s son, or worst of all a blow to make her miscarry. She planned instead to wait until the child was almost here and only then she would summon him, knowing he would come to check just in case it was true. It was said that cultivators had a means of testing birthright, the way regular people didn’t, and that they were very cautious about such things.

That way, when the child died at birth or immediately thereafter, there would still be enough time for the sect leader to feel guilt and to be coaxed into taking Meng Yao in as a disciple, and once Meng Yao had learned the basics of cultivation, he could make his way to his father’s place to prove to him that he was worth taking in, that it was time to make good on all the old promises he’d made.

It was a good plan, if a cold one.

It would have worked, too, if Meng Yao hadn’t blundered his way into something better.

Perhaps that was giving him too much credit: he wasn’t the one who did the blundering. That was all Nie Mingjue, who six months after he’d made a crazy promise to return had actually gone and done it.

“You live in Qinghe,” Meng Yao said accusingly instead of greeting him, because he’d gone to listen to the gossips talk until he’d managed to figure out where the cultivation sect surnamed ‘Nie’ resided. “That’s not even in this part of the country; how can you be back so soon?”

“I promised you I would, didn’t I? I keep my word,” Nie Mingjue said with a smile, as if it was that easy – as if a child could make decisions like that, ones that involved crossing mountains and rivers and going deep into another sect’s territory, when Meng Yao couldn’t even walk too far down the street without the brothel owners cursing him out as a would-be runaway. “Don’t worry about it. The Jiang sect doesn’t really pay attention as a general rule, and even if they did their current leader’s too busy with his angry wife to care about who’s traveling through his domain.”

Meng Yao rolled his eyes - he’d heard that gossip, too. But he didn’t care, that wasn’t what mattered; there were more important things to focus on. “Did you bring it?”

Nie Mingjue produced a manual out of his sleeve. The quality of the paper was far better than any of the ones Meng Yao’s mother had bought for him, and he knew at once by looking at it that this was no fake. He tried to grab at it with both hands, but Nie Mingjue pulled it back.

“Cultivation is dangerous,” he warned. “You need a guide, at least at first, to make sure you don’t make any mistakes – it’s easy to make mistakes, especially at the beginning, and that can lay the groundwork for a qi deviation in the future. I’ll let you read it, but you have to promise that you’ll only practice with me for the first week or so, okay?”

“You’re staying a week?”

Nie Mingjue’s cheeks flushed red. “Uh, well – I was planning on two, if you don’t mind…”

“Of course I don’t mind! You can stay with me in my attic.”

“I brought enough money for a room at an inn –”

“We can use the extra to buy more meat,” Meng Yao told him, already pushing and shoving him, and Nie Mingjue was easily convinced.

He was easily convinced to follow him back to the brothel, too, which was a little frustrating: how could anyone be that naïve? If Meng Yao had wanted to sell Nie Mingjue, he probably could do it, cultivator or no; there were a hundred things to fear in a brothel, hidden in the tea or the incense or the smiles of seemingly friendly strangers.

Nie Mingjue was lucky that Meng Yao had longer-term goals in mind for him.

They passed the day quite pleasantly, eating meat skewers and dragon’s beard candy and discussing the basics of cultivation – Meng Yao read the book (his book!) and asked questions, and Nie Mingjue did his best to answer them – and then in the latter part of the afternoon the women at the brothel roused themselves, coming out to prepare for their nightly work, his mother included.

She was fairly heavily pregnant now, but there were men who liked that sort of thing, as long as there was something she could do for them, and the brothel owners wouldn’t waste their money by kicking her out no matter how annoyed they were at her for keeping the child. She wasn’t allowed to roam too far out of her room, being as she was a specialized service that might frighten regular customers, and so it wasn’t until she came to find Meng Yao to make sure he was all right that Nie Mingjue saw her for the first time.

“This is my mother,” Meng Yao said, his back stiff with expected insults even though Nie Mingjue hadn’t said a single word about Meng Yao living in a brothel so far.

Nie Mingjue stared at her with eyes so big and round and surprised that Meng Yao irritably wondered if he’d never seen a whore before, or perhaps it was the idea that one might be stupid enough to get pregnant and keep it. Maybe he would save his insults for that, instead, and Meng Yao would be forced to try to break his handsome face…

“You’re the lady they sent to my father’s room,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice faint and shaking with shock. “You’re – is that my brother?”

It turned out that the Nie sect, unlike the Jin sect, cared a great deal for matters of blood and children born of it; Nie Mingjue didn’t even demand a test or anything before he’d insisted that they come back to Qinghe with him, both of them, absolutely certain that his father would be overjoyed by the news.

Meng Yao and his mother exchanged looks, each of them skeptical and cynical to the core, and tried to convince him to slow down a little. To write a letter, perhaps –

“No! You have to come right away,” Nie Mingjue insisted, his cheeks pink with excitement. “We have doctors to care for you, and, oh, he’ll need a saber, someone will need to start on that right away – and anyway, a Nie should be born in Qinghe.”

“There’s still some months left to go,” Meng Shi said, though Meng Yao could see that she was a little amused by Nie Mingjue’s earnest enthusiasm. “Tell your father to come here and take me away, if you’re sure he’ll care so much.”

“I am sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “He’s just busy at the borders again, with Qishan Wen causing trouble all over; who knows how long it’d take for him to get word? Why do we have to wait for him to come in person anyway?”

“Because we can’t leave,” Meng Yao said, finally condescending to point out the obvious. “Mother belongs to the brothel, and we haven’t saved up enough to buy her freedom.”

Even an old whore was an expensive proposition, especially if she knew skills like singing and dancing and playing instruments the way Meng Shi did – and one with a burden like Meng Yao could be exploited to do all sorts of things that a normal woman might refuse. It would be costly to redeem her, more costly than anything a young sect heir might have expected to buy.

Meng Yao had expected that to be the end of it, but he’d apparently underestimated Nie Mingjue’s stubbornness: he went to the market and sold every last piece of metal he had on him, right down to the silver crown off his head, and was about to go try to barter away his clothing or sell his strength to a dockworker when Meng Yao shoved the money he’d so carefully saved up into his hands.

“With this it might be enough,” he said, biting his lip with guilt as his mother gaped at the glittering gold in his hand – he hadn’t dared tell her about it, about the fact that he’d been saving up again. She’d told him before that there was no point in buying her freedom, that she had no other skills to sell and a bad reputation to boot; they would live free for a single summer only to have to sell her back again in the winter, and the brothel owners wouldn’t be pleased at all by that.

“It will be,” Nie Mingjue said. “Even if I have to buy the rest on credit, it will be!”

“At least be clever about this,” Meng Shi sighed, giving in even though she clearly didn’t think it was a good idea. Meng Yao supposed she figured that if it came down to it, there were brothels in Qinghe, too, and at least she’d be something new there with her soft Yunping accent and manners. “If they think you’re desperate, they’ll raise the price – you should be more arrogant. Act as if you were doing them a favor by taking me off their hands.”

Nie Mingjue’s nose wrinkled.

“Pretend they’re surnamed Wen,” Meng Yao suggested, and that did the trick: Nie Mingjue’s lip curled at once, vicious and angry (and a little scared, but only deep down where most people wouldn’t see it easily). He marched right inside the brothel and demanded they sell Meng Shi to him, flaunting himself as the son of what he called a Great Sect.

It might not have worked except that he made such a fuss that people started to gather, including a passing cultivator and his wife – a much more respectable-looking pair than gawky too-tall-for-his-age Nie Mingjue with his hair now bound only by a ribbon, with a horsetail whip in the hands of the woman and swords on both of them – and the man’s eyebrows had gone up as high as his forehead. “Nie-gongzi,” he called, and even saluted properly and everything. “What are you doing so far from home?”

“Trying to complete a transaction,” Nie Mingjue growled, glaring at the brothel owner even as he saluted back. “I think he doesn’t think I’m good for it.”

The female cultivator snorted, shifting the baby she carried on her back from one side to the other. “That’s brave of him. Doesn’t your Nie sect like to break things that disagree with you and pay for the damages later?”

“He’s too young for that,” her husband told her. “Look, he’s not even carrying his saber yet.”

“I wasn’t talking about him,” she said. “I was talking about the retainers his father almost certainly sent to track him down – didn’t you say you saw some very angry-looking cultivators entering town not long ago? They looked fit to slaughter.”

Nie Mingjue blanched, suggesting that he hadn’t expected company quite this early – or perhaps hoping that he could hide away from them – but the cultivators’ words had made the brothel owner quite contemplative. He finally agreed to sell him Meng Shi’s contract for all the money Nie Mingjue had and a letter of promise for that amount a second time over, an outrageous price even after they’d used all of Meng Shi’s tricks on him, but Nie Mingjue had agreed to it in a heartbeat.

“Won’t your father be angry at your spending?” Meng Yao asked, wondering. It was so much money.

“I’ll make it up to him,” Nie Mingjue said dismissively. “As soon as I get my saber and start night-hunting, money flows free and easy. It’s hard to explain, but you’ll see what it’s like once you get there.”

Meng Yao blinked. “What?”

“Aren’t you going to be a cultivator?” Nie Mingjue asked, blinking at him. “You’ll be part of my Nie sect, of course, so the same rules that apply to me will apply to you.”

“No,” Meng Yao explained. “I’m going to be part of –”

His mother pressed down on his shoulder. “You’d be willing to accept A-Yao into your sect?” she asked, her gaze sharp and penetrating.

“Of course,” Nie Mingjue said, sounding puzzled. “I was willing to do it before, just for helping me out, and now, well – he’s the brother of my brother, isn’t he? That makes him all but family directly, especially if you marry in as a concubine.”

They both gaped at him.

“…do you not want to?” Nie Mingjue – hapless idiot, fulfiller of dreams – asked, actually sounding worried. “I just assumed you would, to make sure the child isn’t born a bastard…”

“I wouldn’t object,” Meng Shi said, her voice full of rich irony that only Meng Yao understood. “But I think your father might.”

“You don’t know my father,” Nie Mingjue said simply. As if it was simple, as if people were like that. “He’ll do the right thing.”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #meng yao #jin guangyao #nieyao #meng shi #my fic #my fics #three gates

160 notes · View notes

reh-sa · 4 years

Photo

A Moonlit Bath - A Captive Princess AU

TW: Mentions of forced marriage, including vague mentions of possible marital r*pe // Very vague mentions of suicide

The most desirable bachelorette in all of Vere is called Laurene.

She might be known to be a sullen princess, but as the only living child of former king Aleron, her beauty is only matched by her dowry and the man who will marry her will inherit it all. So naturally, when her uncle made his vows to her, no one was under the illusion it was out of love. He is ruling as the king de facto since, locking his niece tightly away, as he can only keep his position and wealth as long as he owns her. Laurene has been living a very secluded life since, miserably being a prisoner in her own home.

It is not until Damia, crown princess of Akielos, visits the Veretian court that Laurene realizes how truly miserable she is. Damia is so strong and free, and she walks so confidently among her lines. Laurene can do nothing but watch her from the shadows with envy.

Meanwhile, Damia is surprised by how little glimpses she catches of the mysterious Veretian princess. Dead-set on wanting to meet a great beauty like hers, she starts searching Arles for the hidden princess...

...but it turns out to be an arduous task. Damia is told the princess Laurene is locking herself up in her room all day, mad with grief for still not being with child, but Damia believes it is a lie. One day, she passes the doctor Paschal on his way to the princess’ chambers, delivering a fertility potion that oddly looks and smells like utterly unfertile moon tea.

“Dana,” Nikandros sighs. “I think you are reading too much into this. Don’t take this the wrong way, but did it occur to you they might keep you away from her because you have a reputation as a wife-stealer? The king would not be the first man to find his lady in your bed. Some may take offense in that. I’d like to remind you of that incident with Kyra.”

“The bigger offense is that these lords do not know how to please their ladies,” Damia shrugs. And then, after a moment: “Who was Kyra again?”

But eventually, fortune favors Damia one starry night.

She fantasized countless times about meeting the princess on a balcony, perfumed with the scent of the night flowers welling up in the air. But it turns out Damia would encounter Laurene in a place she did not think of yet: the baths.

Since there were no lights ignited inside, Damia believed herself alone for a moment upon entering, but her eyes quickly adjust to the moonlight, drawn to the silver figure in the glowing pool. Princess Laurene is even more ethereal than the rumours, wet hair clinging to a well-balanced face, her milky body disappearing into the scented water. Droplets are dancing over her curves, more beautiful and shinier than pearls. For a moment, the image in front of Damia’s eyes is one of utter serenity. But as sweet as the Veretian princess looks, she is quick to reach for a dagger hidden inside her pool when she hears Damia approaching.

“Like what you see?” she purrs with the voice of a siren.

“Very much,” Damia answers truthfully, “though the dagger is quite worrisome. Since I heard of the case of Queen Yseult, I get nervous when I see a melancholy princess alone at night in the baths with a dagger.”

That earns her a sheepish look, and Laurene genuinely blushes.

“I…I did not want to…Queen Yseult did it because she was about to birth a bastard. I’m not with child.”

“So I have heard. And I would express my sympathies, princess, if not for the moon tea you have been drinking,” Damia says.

The dagger Laurene throws cuts through the serenity in a swift motion, faintly striking Damia’s cheek until it comes to a rest in the wall behind her.

“What do you want from me?!” Laurene snaps. “If it was just to see my tits, you have seen them now. Your goal is accomplished and you can gloriously return to your chambers. I ensure you, there is no need to spy on me further.”

“Oh no, actually…” Damia says while wiping the blood from her cheek, “I came to take a bath.”

And with that, she unbuckles the pin on her chiton, the fabric slipping to the ground and revealing her naked body all at once, muscle upon muscle. As Damia walks down the steps into the water, she faintly notices from the corner of her eye that Laurene is staring at her, until the princess seems to remember in some charming display of Veretian modesty to look away. Her blush spreads even further, and Damia cannot help the bit of amusement she is feeling at that. Without a blade in her hand, Laurene seems to be much more tame.

“Also,” Damia continues, the tension in her limbs unwinding in the warm water, “I hoped to make a friend here. I am tired of having conversations with old men all day, and I think your husband does not like me. It is good to talk to another woman for once. Can I use your soap? I’ve left mine in my chambers”. “Have it,” Laurene nags, throwing the little piece of soap at her, and quickly averting her eyes again.

Veretian soaps are wonderful, made from rich and creamy almond milk with a hint of cinnamon, and so very different from the Akielon olive soaps. Even somebody like Damia can appreciate these Veretian niceties. She starts to lather herself until she is covered in luxurious foam, and for a moment there is no sound but the soft rippling of water. Eventually, it is the Veretian princess who breaks the silence.

“I have never seen a woman as muscular as you. If you didn’t have the tits, I would almost believe it was an oxen intruding my baths. Are all Akielon women build like that?” she asks, quite brazen. Damia cannot help but to grin at her rudeness. She loves that the princess has a mouth on her.

“No...I can assure you we too have some sweet, fickle maidens. But I like the competition.”

“The competition in sports, or in conquering fickle maidens?” Laurene asks.

“Both, sometimes,” Damia smiles. “I think wrestling is wonderful. Sports, I mean. It is easy to learn but hard to master. You don’t even have to have my physique, mind you, that is merely a preference. In summer, we host tournaments with challengers from all over the world. There are even women from the warrior clans of the mountains of Vask coming. And some challengers give themselves the most pretentious nicknames, you cannot imagine. Especially the men! The celebrations go on and on for days, there are competitions at day and food and drink at night. And I haven’t even started to tell you about the Okton, where we compete with different weapons on horseback-”

“Are you good with weapons? What kind of horses?” Laurene blurts. She likes to hear stories from the world outside, Damia thinks to herself.

“I shall explain it to you. But tell me first, princess, why is it you never seem to see the daylight? You would think a man with a wife looking like that would parade her through the city as if she was an expensive steed. No offense. Yet, I did not see you at the banquet, nor in the gardens or at the dance. Why is that?”

“Maybe I am simply not fond of company, princess Damia,” Laurene answers in a cutting tone.

“Oh, please call me Dana.”

“I call you however it pleases me. And for that sake, I am not fond of intruders into my baths either.”

“My apologies, princess,” Damia says. “I was not aware you would bathe at such late hour. And your baths are so lovely, I wanted to see them for myself. Those patterns are simply dazzling. Yours have depictions of naked women on the walls. In the other baths I have seen, there were nothing but cocks.”

That earns her a giggle from Laurene, as much as she tries to keep her sullen facade up. The Veretian princess might look like a shy nymph, but seems to be quite naughty. Damia decides that she likes that.

She wonders if she can go one step further.

“Princess Laurene. After showing me your baths, I wondered if you would be willing to show me the markets in the city as well. I’d love to get my hands on these colorful Veretian sweets you make from syrup and rosewater. How about tomorrow? You could dress up as a peasant girl and sneak out. Nobody will notice.”

“Lovely. Like in a fairytale,” Laurene says. “If I could overcome the minor inconvenience of not being able to leave the palace by dressing up as a peasant girl, I would use it to flee the country, not to buy candy on a market.”

That has Damia alerted.

“So much for the dislike of company. You are even willing to flee your own country?” she asks. “You can get a divorce, you know. I believe nobody likes being married to their own uncle, especially one that never lets you outside, and I don’t see the political gain for you either. So what is with that match?”

Laurene sighs. “If I didn’t know my uncle hated women so much, especially those in power, I would believe he had sent you to spy on me. But I am inclined to believe you are here out of your own free will and your raging pheromones, so I’m telling you. Yes, I could get a divorce, but there is one problem. The Veretians fear nothing as great as bastardy. If I happened to be with child at the time of the divorce, the curse still applies. I need to proof to the court I am not pregnant by being physically and geographically distant from him for…”

“...nine months?”

“Exactly. You are learning the Veretian customs fast. He knows this of course, which is why he is locking me up. Silly, isn’t it? I need to stay miles and miles away from my lord husband before they believe me I am not pregnant, as if breathing the very same air as a man’s could leave me with child. And as long as the gods and the moon tea do not fail me, that shall not happen,” Laurene explains bitterly.

“That is terrible,” Damia replies in all honesty.

“Don’t look so sad. I had a brother once, and he was very brave. I am brave, too. And I know there will be an opening for me, one day. If a foreign princess can stroll into my baths just like that, I shall be able to do the same but in reverse.” And then, in a whisper: “I’ve been even studying the sword.”

“You have?”, Damia hums, smiling at the thought of the princess strapped in a Veretian breastplate. Laurene nods, so proud that she is not able to suppress a smile herself, soft crimson coloring her cheeks. It was very charming.

“But it is difficult. There is a man from my Princess’ Guard I’ve been seeing- ...oh, don’t make that face, not like that. He teaches me. But I can only meet him in secret, since I must not be with a man alone and there is no woman here to teach me. I’ve wondered…” Laurene says, abruptly breaking off.

When she doesn’t continue speaking, Damia asks: “You’ve wondered?”

“Ah-...No, it’s nothing,” she blurts.

Suddenly, Laurene rises, water dripping from her golden hair, a view that is dazzling Damia once again.

“I’m sorry, but I have to retreat to my chambers now. I’ve been here for so long, they will wonder where I’ve been,” the princess says.

Damia simply nods, watching as Laurene emerges from the water and towels herself down in a very practical way, without a hint of sensuality. Just as she was about to leave through the door, she turns one last time.

“Dana,” Laurene says, a little shy, and Damia is dizzily struck by an emotion she cannot quite identify upon hearing her nickname from Laurene’s lips.

“You were right. It was pleasant to talk to another woman for once.” And then, a little hesitant: “I like to take baths at midnight. Goodnight.”

Damia nods, smiling at the hint.

“Goodnight, princess. Sleep well.”

And with that, the ornamental doors close and Damia is left alone in the pool.

She closes her eyes and lets herself float freely in the water, the moonlight casting patterns on her body. The baths feel so vast and empty suddenly, as if the princess herself was the one whose presence had lightened them up. Now, she was nothing but a faint dream. But Damia will meet her again at the next moon. She had said so.

In the silence of the night, a memory surfaced to her mind of what Nikandros had said earlier to her.

She was not called Damia wife-stealer for no reason.

#captive prince #laurianos #damen #laurent #captive princess #fanart #digital #art #hello I am alive and gay #if you are asking why the water is glowing in the 2nd pic #it is clearly from love #I'm not a good writer but by the gods I tried my best #the pancake wife steelestingray corrected my shitty English

1K notes · View notes

spooklore · 4 years

Text

Souls and Spirits - Reader x Spencer Reid

A/N: Welcome to my first publicly posted fanfiction in almost 6 years! I wrote this @imagining-in-the-margins ‘s Discord fic swap and it was so much fun to write. Thank you to everyone who helped :)

SUMMARY: The (season 7) BAU Team is out at a bar after a case rough case and the female bartender catches Spencer's eye and a little more.

CATEGORY: Fluff and soft smut

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

-------------------------------------------------

Spencer POV:

It was a long day, long case, long flight, and now I’m sitting through a long dinner.

I was reciting the words of one of our witnesses over, and over in my mind while the team chatted away. My thoughts were screaming the words of a young woman from our case who had just found out that her boyfriend had killed half a dozen women. While I stood on the other side of the interrogation room’s double sided glass the woman mumbled, “What do you say to someone you thought was your soulmate?” and for some reason it stuck with me more than the previous cases.

I partially snapped back to the table conversation so I could hear Garcia giggle and the rare, but welcome, Hotch laugh overlapping. I looked up to Morgan starting right at me, furrowing his eyebrows. I knew this damned look. He was about to call me out in front of the team. Usually I was good at picking up on the conversation and spitting out my own side of the conversation but I wasn’t quick enough.

“C’mon pretty boy, really? What planet are you on that you’re not even talking about Halloween. I’m the one who should be zoning out over here.” He jokingly scoffed at me, then took a drink from the scotch glass he was holding.

“Sorry, I got caught up in the case.” I laughed and shrugged it off. [elaborate]

Prentiss bumped her elbow into my shoulder since she was the one sitting closest to me. “Let me catch you up. The team. JJ and Hotch are bringing their boys, Sergio isn't invited-”

“Even though I bought him the sweetest pumpkin hat for his tiny little head!” Penelope exclaimed before Emily could finish her sentence. Everyone, including me, just stared at her until we all broke out in a contagious laughter.

“I think he would look quite snazzy, Emily.” I chimed in, flashing Emily a soft smirk. Emily sighed, “I promise I will send a picture to everyone then. I would say the party could be at my place but I’m sure the candy is much better in Rossi’s neighborhood!”

“I’m only giving out candy after everyone has had at least two drinks. It makes everything a little more interesting on the adult side while we admire the fine costumes that come across my porch.” Rossi inserted the plans.

I ran my fingers along the hem of the napkin sitting on my lap. “That sounds like a wonderful time…” I looked up and met eyes with JJ. “As long as Henry’s costume isn't too spooky.”

JJ’s face lit up and she reached her hand out to meet my left hand, which was resting next to my drink, and gave it a squeeze. “Prepare yourself, Spence. It’s going to be the scariest costume yet!”

I gave her a big smile in return before grabbing my drink and giving it a sip. Morgan started talking about some hockey team with Hotch and Garcia while I asked JJ about Will's new job.

We got all of our checks and started quieting down before Rossi announced to us, “I hope you all are able to take care of your checks. But maybe I can take care of your drinks as we migrate to the nearest bar?”

The team let out personal cheers and thank you’s. Once the waitress had brought back our cards and change we all stood and started making our way out of the restaurant.

“Maybe while Aaron and I make our way back home we will find a nice hole in the wall with quiet music and serves a good malt, oh wait. They’ve been run out by those techno and indie bars you all like.” Rossi rolled his eyes before exchanging kisses on the cheeks. Hotch and I exchanged a smile and the two men made their way back to their cars.

Garcia linked arms with Morgan and JJ and put her arm around Emily, leaving me to trail behind the group. They continued their chatter as I followed them down the street. The ladies continued dancing to whichever bar caught their eyes while Derek shot glances back at me to make sure I wasn’t too far behind.

Soon enough Penelope hollered at the group to corral us through the doors of a bustling, neon-lit club. Derek followed me in and placed his hand on my back before whispering in my ear, “You better find someone or else I will.” As if it were a threat.

I sat on a stool and ordered a club soda and lime from the bartender, everyone else chiming in with their orders after mine.

Garcia was settling in next to me while Prentiss, JJ, and Morgan stood with their drinks next to her. I slid in a few comments here and there to let the team know that I wasn’t still entirely thinking about what the victim had said to me earlier that day.

Before I could finish my thought; Garcia grabbed my wrist and used my hand to point in the direction of what could only be described, in her words, as ‘chocolate thunder striking down the dance floor’.

We shared a laugh at the sight of Morgan grinding against three women who were enjoying every moment. JJ and Emily audibly cringed.

“Spence, why don’t you follow him out there?” JJ joked as she nudged my shoulder. Emily giggled as she pushed on the other side of me as she loudly whispered in my ear, “Oh, come on! I need to live vicariously through the youthfulness of being single.”

“You’re not in a relationship, Emily.” I tried to banter but I had to speak over her defensive response, “Actually, Sergio is a cat. Nice try. Why don’t you give the floor a spin.”

“I think the floor is spinning already…” Penelope stuttered while gripping onto her barstool. Emily grabbed Garcia’s shoulders and shouted “Or you’ve been taking the shots that were meant for everybody!” Emily helped Penelope off the chair and started to guide her towards the bathroom.

JJ patted my back as she claimed Garcia’s seat and watched the two ladies stumble away. I sipped my drink, wishing for the bitterness of alcohol but in return feeling the tarte lime hit the back of my throat. I felt so alone in this club that trickled with my friends and coworkers.

There was a female bartender who was working at the other end of the bar who caught my eye. She was shaking a cocktail over her shoulder while laughing. I looked back down at my drink.

The silence I shared with JJ didn’t last long. Morgan was swaying back towards us, shaking the ladies off and leaving them in his wake. “Pretty boy or JJ. One of you better take my hand or I pick who’s dancing with me.” My eyes darted directly over to JJ, whose eyes never locked contact with the man who offered.

“I believe this little lady is long overdue from a night out,” Morgan whisked JJ off her barstool and she giggled and waved to me. I waved back to hear Morgan tell JJ, “Will doesn’t take you out enough does he?”

I stirred my drink as indeed, now I was truly alone. Emily was probably holding back Penelope’s hair and jewelry while JJ and Derek were losing themselves in the sea of bodies. It didn’t distract me from feeling the exhaustion wave over me. I stabbed at the ice and lime at the bottom of my glass with a small black straw.

I zoned in on the noise of the ice clinking against the glass over the irritating, base-heavy club music. The stirring grounded me from the stimulation all around me.

That's when I notice a hand with manicured nails tapping the bar top in front of me.

“Hey, you probably didn't hear me! Want another drink?” I looked up to see the female bartender from before standing right in front of me. She smiled big and shyly I returned it. “I-I’m sorry, yeah. Uh. Yes please. Virgin lime and tonic.” I managed to stutter.

“Are you pregnant? If so congrats! You’re glowing. Coming right up, dear.” The young woman danced around the other bartender to get rid of my old glass and grab a clean one.

I was confused why she thought I was a woman conceiving even though I was a man. I understand that ordering non-alcoholic drinks while at a club with friends seems off putting. Instead of worrying about the topic any longer I shook my head and looked back up at her.

She wiped the glass with the apron around her waist, before chatting up her coworker while building my drink. She had an infectious smile, I had to keep myself from being caught staring.

The bartender leaned over and placed my drink in front of me. “Here’s your drink! My name is Y/N so if you need anything-” Someone put their hand on my back which caused me to jump and spill my drink in front of me and onto the bartender.

JJ laughed and grabbed her drink from earlier and giggled while saying “Nice one, Spence.”

Reader POV:

The club soda and lime wedge had spilled onto my shirt, ice falling into my apron pockets.

“I’m so sorry!” The curly-haired man explained and grabbed the stack of napkins next to me to mop up the eight ounces of liquid.

“It’s okay, I’m always prepared for instances like these.” I joked while taking off my apron and dumping the ice out of the pockets. My mind flooded with emotions. I was frustrated. Why did I have to lean against the bar to get closer to this man I didn’t know. I was annoyed. Now my clothes are wet and I have to go change.

What clouded my mind the most was the image of the blonde woman who touched him so affectionately.

By the time I had set my apron on the table behind the bar I had looked back up at the man who locked eye contact with me. He had soft, hazel eyes that looked at me apologetically.

“I’m going to try to find Morgan again.” The blonde woman patted his shoulder and walked off to the floor.

I looked back down at the wad of sopping wet napkins and started throwing them away.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me. Is there any way I can help you?” He searched my eyes for an answer but something let me know he already knew what I wanted.

“I’m not… sure.” I touched my wet work jeans trying to figure out my plan. I had soaking wet pants, without my apron it looks like I had embarrassingly wet myself.

I caught the man in the corner of my eye glancing, scanning me up and down.

“Well, I could help you get out of those pants?” He stuttered while suggesting, a sly smirk growing on his face.

I tried to hide my blushed cheeks from him but I was intrigued. Anyways it was nearly the end of my shift and I couldn’t care less about this job. Part of me chimed in, the good and moral part of me. Why would you risk this fun and great paying job for a man you just met.

But I’ve never felt a stronger feeling of complete sureness about a person like this before.

I am sure he is my person.

I wiped up my hands and placed them on the bar table in front of me.

“Would you really? That would be great actually.” I looked up and smiled at him. All I saw was this shaggy-haired man with a goofy smile on his face staring straight back at me.

He started to stammer before saying, “Wait… really? I mean I would it’s just… aren't you working?”

I laughed and looked over my shoulder at my coworker and shouted at him. “Hey Mike! Is Peter here yet?” I saw him give me a strong nod. “Guess my cover-” By the time I looked back over at the man who was sitting across from me, the words fell out of my mouth.

He wasn’t there. In his place was left a napkin with writing on it. I grabbed the napkin that was slightly damp and scrawled in pen it read,

Check your apron pocket.

I fumbled for my apron that was hanging to dry over the bar rail. I dug my hands into what I thought were empty pockets and found a business card. It read:

SSA Dr. Spencer Reid - FBI BAU Profiler.

Oh my god, he’s a Fed. I’m guessing a really smart one too. Plus some sort of magician.

I flipped the business card over and there was more writing on it in the same pen.

Meet me out front when you’re done.

My mind was scrambling for how much I wanted to see him. Part of me tried to reason, why would I drop everything for someone's name I had to learn through their business card? The arguably better side of me screamed for him.

I ran to clock out and grab my bag. Mike stopped me as I saw Peter taking over my section of the bar in the corner of my eye.

“Hey, everything alright? If you’re in a hurry you can just grab your tips tomorrow. Text me if you need anything. Have fun out there, kid.” He patted my back and nudged me. “Go get him.”

“Thank you Mike! See ya!” I smiled and waved goodbye to them and started to push through the people. Usually I’d slip through the back door but pushing through people seemed safer than walking through a dark alley alone.

But with an FBI agent, I think I might be safe. I had a really great feeling about it anyways.

I pushed the door and felt the brisk fall wind hit my face as I walked outside. I didn’t care for how cold I was, I was looking for him.

I scanned the streets and saw him standing underneath a street lamp and he looked back at me with the biggest smile. I have to admit that it was quite contagious.

I walked up to him and shined under the street lamp with him. Before I could even say hello he started apologizing.

“I’m really sorry again. I see that you got my note, which is good. I was worried about the pen bleeding from the melting ice.” He chuckled.

“It’s okay! Please, it happens more often than I’d like to admit. I can say I’ve never had such a polite and attractive person spill a drink on me.” I looked down at my shoes in slight embarrassment for being so bold, but hey. When am I not.

“If it took me spilling a drink on you to meet then I’m sure it was worth it.” He caught my attention again, making me laugh.

“I would let you do it again, I mean. Only if I wasn’t wearing my favorite jeans.” I gestured to the slightly wet stain on my black jeans.

He shared my humor and laughed along with me. “I hope I can make it up to you. I’m sure you read the card, but my name is Spencer.”

“I did catch onto that! And my name is-” He cut in and said “Y/N.”

“You have quite the memory! Let me guess, it’s the reason you’re a doctor?” I giggled.

“Yes, but not really a doctor. I have three doctorates though.” He spoke with his hands, justifying his genius-ness.

I nodded and tried not to think about my bachelor’s degree that sat on a shelf collecting dust. “May I ask, were those other FBI agents with you earlier?’

“Yes. It was my team, they’re great. I told them I was leaving anyway.” He shuffled his feet.

Part of me sighed in relief knowing that the blonde woman was just a coworker. I watched him glance over at the door, I’m sure watching out to see if his team would come looking for him. “How about we get out of here?” I grabbed my keys out of my purse.

“I don’t really drive, but we can go back to my apartment if you would like?” He looked back at me with a soft smile.

I told him I would love to drive and we walked back to my car which was just around the block. We were laughing and chatting the entire time, he climbed into the passenger seat of my car and I started the car.

“You can put your address in the GPS.” I looked up at his puzzled face as he stared at the GPS navigation touch screen. “Or I can do it for you if you’re scared of it.”

We shared a laugh before I admitted, “Don’t worry. It kinda scares me too.”

The entirety of the twenty minute ride back to his place felt so… natural. Like we’ve done this a million times before.

He walked me upstairs to his apartment and unlocked the door, letting me in first. I took in the sight of his small library that had taken over his apartment. Before going any further I took my shoes off and placed them right by the door.

“Make yourself at home.” He smiled and walked over to a record player and picked out a vinyl with a worn cover, placed it on the turntable, and set the needle on the record.

I was looking at all of the beautiful books and art as the dulcet sounds of soft jazz filled the deep emerald green walls of his cozy home.

Spencer whisked me around and caught me in his arms. I looked back up into his eyes and adored how his eyes complimented the entirety of his aesthetic.

He moved one of his hands to my lower back as I kept my hands pressed against his chest. “You look beautiful.” He said softly.

“Who knew I’d land a date with a handsome man in my work clothes?” I pawed at the cuff of my t-shirt.

He looked down at his attire, “Well these are my work clothes too.” He gestured with his eyes towards his grey suit.

We laughed as we swayed slightly to the music. I playfully tugged on his tie and stared back into his soft eyes. “Remember how you promised you’d help me out of these?”

“Trust me, Y/N, I would never forget.” He grabbed the back of my head and leaned in.

Spencer’s lips locked onto mine and devolved into a small kiss. My heart was beating fast and before I could clear my head from the euphoria, he guided me towards his room.

His room was cozy and he directed me to lay out on his bed. I got onto his bed and laid out for him. Spencer couldn’t wait to get his hands on me and the feelings were mutual.

I undid my belt and he took over with his much larger hands, undoing the button and unzipping the zipper.

He leaned in and kissed me again as he started to shuffle my pants off. I arched my back to help with the process. He carefully set them on the ground and untied his tie and opened a button on his shirt.

I whined softly as he dragged his hands down my thighs, grabbing the back of his neck and bringing him for another kiss.

His kisses were insanely addictive, I was getting drunk off of his love.

He started to take off his vest and shirt as I took off my own. Spencer’s eyes never left mine or my body. As he pulled off his pants he took a moment to soak in what was laying on his bed.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He spoke in an almost gravely tone. I smiled as my entire body tingled while he climbed on top of me.

His lips dived towards mine and crashed together in a moment of complete unison. I ran my hands through the curls on the back of his head, feeling his hands creep up towards my chest.

Our tongues swirled in dopamine through our heavy breathing. Time felt like it was going by so fast as we discovered each other's bodies. He was thin and slightly sculpted but strong.

He grabbed my hips and brought me down further on the bed to be level with his face. Spencer stopped for a second and looked deep into my eyes. “Is this going too fast?”

I moved my hands from his back to grip the arms that were standing on either side of me. “Only if you think it's going too fast. We don't have to do this tonight.” I looked back into his eyes trying to understand what was going on in his brilliant mind.

“I hope it doesn't bother you, Y/N. You’re still more than welcome to stay.” He softly offered as he laid on the bed next to me.

I rolled over and stared right back into his soft hazel eyes. “Spencer, I hope I’m not speaking too quickly, but we have the rest of our lives to enjoy more moments like these.”

He cupped my face with his hands and kissed me on the forehead. I closed my eyes and heard him whisper,

What do I say to someone who is my soulmate?

------------

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #reader x character #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #soulmate #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid self insert #female reader #reader fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n

176 notes · View notes

acrossthewavesoftime · 3 years

Note

🔪 and 🗣 for Elizabeth Simcoe :-)

Thanks for the ask! :D

🔪 The absolute worst move she pulled I think is undermining her son's budding relationship. This requires some backstory, so bear with me please:

John Graves had a rather relaxed approach to the question of the gender of his children; as long as the baby was healthy, boy or girl didn't matter whereas Elizabeth really hoped for a son each time she was pregnant. There are implications suggesting Elizabeth felt that it was a personal biological 'shortcoming' of hers that she had evidently 'failed' five times in 'producing' an heir to the family name.

When finally, baby no. 6 was a boy, Elizabeth was delighted. Francis turned out to be particularly close with his mother, and seems to have struggled a little in his relationship with his father. John Graves didn't find the same easy connection with him as he had with his daughters and Francis appears to have suffered a great deal from comparisons with his father and the social pressure connected to them.

Letting Francis go and join the army (like his father) was hard for Elizabeth; and by the time he left for his first post in Ireland, he had found a sweetheart at home: Elizabeth's best friend since childhood had raised an orphaned cousin, Julia Valenza Somerville, and it sort of became obvious the two found each other rather... interesting. They were only one year apart, had essentially grown up together and their mum and guardian resepectively had been inseperable since they had been around 12/13- it couldn't get any better, right?

Apparently, Elizabeth was a little jealous of Francis' obvious affection for Julia. Francis, now stationed on the Iberian Peninsula with his regiment, sent a letter home, accompanied by a ring he had acquired, saying:

If you think Julia would like the ring I will find some-thing that shall please you just as well but my reason for not mentioning at first was that it was not so well set as it might be and I thought young Ladies were very particular about the setting.

Beacock Fryer, Mary (1989). Elizabeth Posthuma Simcoe 1762-1850. A Biography. Toronto: Dundurn Press. p 191.

Guess what Elizabeth did? Rather than being her love-struck, nervous son's 'wingwoman' and assuring him his choice was gorgeous, and that Julia would be delighted with the ring, she kept it, kind of inferring his choice wasn't a good one and obviously resenting the idea of sharing his affection with someone who wasn't her. Yuck.

Absolute Richard-move right there. The thing is, Francis couldn't have sent Julia the ring directly, as an unmarried young woman couldn't entertain a correspondence with an unmarried (young) man (except for extremely close family members, like a brother or cousin) for reasons of propriety. John Graves and Elizabeth had faced the same problem once, which had John Graves giving his love to Elizabeth as P.S.' in letters to his godfather and including the latter's much-loved ten-year-old grandniece in his greetings in order to make the fact he wanted to make sure Elizabeth knew he thought of her even when away in London less obvious. Only Samuel Graves was rather supportive and didn't consciously undermine the young relationship...

Francis died in battle at Badajoz, Spain in 1812, the second to die in the family after his father six years earlier. In a twist of fate, Julia married a man whose name was also Francis (Bond Head) and who would later become Lieutenant Governor of Upper Canada, like Francis Gwillim Simcoe's father.

🗣 Let's go with the nasty, nasty letters of Hannah Jarvis for this one.

Hannah was relatively high up in the social hierarchy of Upper Canada and took an immediate dislike to Elizabeth.

One wonders what happened between the two women; it appears that Elizabeth for her part tried to simply ignore and avoid Hannah, which the latter in turn misinterpreted as conceitedness and presuming Hannah to be socially beneath her.

My guess is that Hannah envied Elizabeth, as many of her criticisms of Mrs. Lieutenant Governor Simcoe are rooted in her close, rather equal relationship with her husband and the fact she had been born into wealth.

She for instance mused that "money is a god many worship" and that Elizabeth's husband had only married her for the latter, only to later discover he would forever live under "petticoat rule."

Hannah also liked to criticise Elizabeth's appearance, calling her a "little stuttering Vixon [sic.]" and a "walking skeleton". Another time, she commented on a chest of linen affected by mildew after a sea-voyage that "Mrs Simcoe's things escaped" or mused that a heavily pregnant Elizabeth, who had excused herself from a ball on account of being unwell, was only pretending to be sick.

Hannah also liked to rant about a host of other people and thus probably didn't quite endear herself to many people.

Hope these ramblings were somewhat interesting! :-)

#ask #reply #elizabeth posthuma simcoe #hannah jarvis #john graves simcoe #francis gwillim simcoe #mary anne burges #julia valenza somerville #francis bond head

7 notes · View notes

thecandywrites · 3 years

Text

Blood For Gold Chapter 22

Woo, let the healing begin matters to be set right!

Thanks to @kriskukko for again, letting me borrow her regency era orc art and her regency era troll art too! Let’s bring Count Javyn Jabire back in shall we? And see what he thinks about all of these changes and let Sierge reflect on his own behavior and not let him get off the hook so easily.

@punkhorse96 you’re gonna love it!

Blood For Gold

Chapter 22

“So what kind of wedding did you have in mind?” You asked Demsey at dinner.

“Whatever kind of wedding you want, if you want to go full Dorierran, I will happily comply and pay for whatever you want. I want you to be happy and satisfied with everything. I know the Morrigans tried to make you as “English” as possible. So especially since your family is here and your friends are here and even more are coming in, you make it however you want it to be. I’ll happily submit and concede to anything you want, as long as we get married, the when and how and other details don’t really matter to me. Your marriage to Edward was all about him, This is your wedding, it should please you above all else. To hell with everyone else and their expectations, if they don’t like any particular thing, they don’t need to come.” Demsey reassured you.

“Really?” You asked as your tears glassed over your eyes.

“You mean that? You’re not just saying that to…” You began, almost afraid to believe him.

“No I absolutely mean it, this is your wedding and you’re marrying me for love, it should be exactly how you want to be.” He insisted.

“Thank you.” You thanked him before you announced to the table of what Demsey just told you and how you wanted it to be as Dorierran as possible before you changed your plans, how you were going to use the moura temple in London, instead of the church of the Voyambi’s choice as Demsey had no qualms about informing and insisting to his parents that because your marriage to Edward had been “his way” how it was only right that your wedding to him be all yours and that it should embrace you and your family and heritage and asking you to sacrifice anything was completely out of the question which his mother took as a surprise but the more she thought about it, the more “right” that became.

“Oh Zax and Axal, invite the Raymonds, Axal, I want you to enjoy my wedding with Ramsey, Octavia and Drina by your side. Yalin and Charlotte have always been genuine and I know that Zax will want Charlotte to be there too. I think since they were generous and hospitable with us, that we should be the same with them.” You told Axal and Zax who both teared up but their smiles were beaming.

“Thank you, I didn’t know how you felt so I wasn’t even going to ask.” Axal admitted.

“Me either.” Zax added.

“Well they’re kind of like family at this point and I want this to be a small, private, family and very close friends kind of affair, so of course they should be invited. But that also goes for you Demesy, you should invite your friends too.” You urged him.

“I will, I plan on having Javyn Jabire be my best man, he’s been my closest friend since we were boys.” Demesy smiled.

“Well in that case, will any of you be willing to help Demsey with his wedding suit? It needs to be gold because my wedding dress is gold because in the Hanging Garden Quarter which used to include the Sultanate Quarter and the Shiek and Shah Quarter, the bride and groom wear matching color schemes, I got some fabrics in from Dorierra that should help because I don’t know if the unstitched suit that was already made to go with it will be big enough for him.” You asked hopefully.

“Oh absolutely, after dinner, we can go back to your house to get it all and then we can spend all day tomorrow making him a suit, no worries.” Leumeni reassured you as the other male members of your family eagerly agreed to help as well which made you practically glow with gratitude.

“Thank you.” You thanked them gratefully.

After dinner though you made a stop at the moura Masai Temple and inquired about using it for your wedding as you were happy to see the same people who had been at the Kamoba battle as the band and orchestra also played music here at Masai Temple as they were all happy to see you marry the man who had the balls to kiss you in front of not just Royalty but all of gentry as you immediately made plans and orders for a “Sirerinna Wedding” later in the week for when they had the availability which would be in only five days which they assured you was more than enough time to put that kind of wedding together, because sometimes they usually only had a few hours notice but they were impressed that you had enough self control to wait a whole five days for it which made you and your family laugh.

They assured and reassured you that a lot could get done in a matter of days and that they would take it as a privilege that you, the Violet Viper would be married from Masai Temple as they asked you what colors you would like as you happily told them gold, turquoise and purple which for them made a lot of sense as Demsey happily paid them their asking price for it all and then some to make it ‘extra special’ which they happily accepted as Demsey, just by the looks of the entryway of the temple, he was in awe of it’s splendor and he didn’t need to see the rest of it to know that he was in for a treat to be married from here and after that, you took note of the moura dress shop- Corasura, that had a whole back room full of moura wedding attire that could either be bought or rented but because it was so late, it was decided that if the party needed anything, they would come in the next day to pick what they wanted or needed from there.

Then you brought everyone back to your house and went through all your trunks and got all the supplies you wanted and all the other items had been put with your wedding things for your future groom, whoever he might be as you noticed that there was already so much in these trunks that your family had put in here when you had left home two years prior, they were basically a wedding in a box, or in this case, three boxes or trunks in total, one of items for the groom, one for the bride and the last for the couple and the ceremony. Even the powder for all the white and gold henna was in there, only needing a special water and oil mix to mix it up and set it up to paint you head to toe with it along with other members of your family along with a copy of a henna design book, the most illustrious and amazing copy of the book available.

But Demsey of course refused to actually see your wedding dress because he wanted to at least honor that tradition and not tempt fate and superstition by seeing the bride’s dress before the wedding itself and wanted to wait until he saw you in it walking down the aisle. Which you couldn’t blame him for, even though he was informed that you weren’t going to be walking, you were going to be dancing down the aisle, your whole bridal party would be because that was traditional for a Sirerinna Wedding.

But Leumeni, Coravien, Storren, Brima, Zax, Axal and Rian as well as your hier father’s sons all took notes about the shade of gold and the more intricate details of the dress so that when they helped make Demsey’s wedding suit as well as their own since you had dozens of bolts of yards and yards and yards of fabrics of all kinds, enough to make all the men in your family as well as Demsey’s proper Dorierran wedding suits. Your brothers wanted to make especially sure they would have the same details on Demsey’s clothes as well as their own so that he would match you in an exquisite manner as they took all they could and asked you about what traditions you wanted to keep as you repeated that you wanted the quintessential “Sirerinna Wedding” which in marinai and in Dorierran culture meant ‘true love match wedding’.

The Sirerinna Wedding was reserved for when a bride would settle down for good and it would hopefully be the last wedding of her life and it wasn’t just because you were already pregnant, but that you felt it in your bones that this is what it should be and you were so happy and relieved and thrilled that Demsey was ok with all of this and was essentially, just along for the ride of it all and was embracing all of you, including your family, your home and your traditional culture before all the men in your family and friends departed so they could get to work tonight at the Voyambi’s house which the whole Voyambi family were more than happy to have them although they did insist that all of the gentlemen uphold the rules of decorum and decency which they were all happy to agree to.

The next day the Bellafonts, the Raymonds and the Voyambis met your family back at the moura dress shop, Corasura as all the Bellafont, Voyambi and Raymond women along with Jane, were fitted with traditional Dorierran Hanging Garden wedding celebration dresses as they marveled at them and happily traded them for the bolts of fabrics from Dorierra and charged only a small fee for the actual seamstresses to sew them together and to tailor the other dresses to the ladies and especially once they saw the unstitched wedding suit and actually pinned it to Demsey, found that only needed just a few more inches on the sides as your brothers showed what notes they had taken of your wedding dress and repeated that the two match together before Count Javyn Jabire came into the shop at Demsey’s instructions in the letter Demsey had penned and sent to him the night before.

“Count.” You greeted happily, seeing him again, he had been there for the Kamoba battle and had of course bet on his friend and when Demsey had caught sight of him had talked with him during lunch while you and your family were talking with the Royal Family.

“You still sure about this?” Javyn questioned as he stood on the pedestal and got fitted for his own wedding suit.

“Absolutely, there is no doubt in my mind.” Demsey grinned.

“And this doesn’t seem too sudden for you?” Javyn questioned as the tailor made his measurements and walked away to write them down. .

“Nope, actually,” Demsey began as he gestured for Javyn to lean his way.

“She’s already with child, my child, time is of the essence.” Demsey revealed in a low whisper before putting his finger to his lips to keep that revelation a secret.

“Ah, I see, you celebrated her victory in style did you?” Javyn couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“Something like that, a gentlemen never…” Demsey began.

“Oh I know, I know, I would never say anything anyway. But congratulations on both counts then.” Javyn offered amiably as this suddenly made a lot more sense to him.

“Then I take it that the saying is true that ‘mouras have been bred to be irresistible’.” Javyn teased as Demsey made a series of noises and facial expressions of agreement.

“So this couldn’t be helped then?” Javyn noted.

“No it could not, thankfully.” Demsey beamed happily.

“Well I’m happy for you and I wish you the best.” Javyn offered.

“Oh just wait, Audra invited several of her friends who are flying in and will be here hopefully by tonight, I saw a troll or two that might catch your eye.” Demsey teased back.

“Don’t bring me into temptation, I can barely keep Lady Wollworth and Lady Castana at bay as it is. I take it Lady Whitesale is not taking this news well.” He furthered.

“No, I don’t suppose she is, that’s actually why you do not see Princess Benyana in the mix. Benny tried to betray Audra and myself to the Whitesales by making up the most egregious lies and did Sierge heinously wrong.” Demsey informed him before he told his best friend some of the more nasty particulars.

“So in my experience, Benny was the outlier, the other mouras are perfectly amiable, it’s individuals like her that give the whole lot a bad name. So I wouldn’t take her and her conduct as an indicator on mouras, if anything, take Audra or Calla as your cue onto the true moura’s disposition.” Demsey reassured his friend before a herd of other customers came into the shop, but they were all new faces to everyone except your family as you and they all hugged each other tightly and received them happily.

“Your housekeeper told us where to find you, here, as you asked.” Jenniverre offered you a fig as they were all still in their riding leathers as you started laughing as you hugged them all and thanked them for coming as they all handed you figs of all kinds as you happily took them and eagerly inhaled the figs in between introducing your friends to the Voyambis and Count Javyn Jabire who stared at the moura troll in front of him in awed wonder because she was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen.

Her name was Jenniverre Saphairines, she had the most gorgeous pastel indigo skin which matched with her gold moura marks was a heavenly contrast. Her hair was a gorgeous platinum blonde and the way that leather riding suit hugged her voluptuous body was threatening to send his body into a tizzy because he had never, in his life, looked at a more gorgeous creature in his life.

Meanwhile Sierge was in a similar state, staring at Adrilody. If Benny had been beautiful, Adrilody was exquisite. Where Benny felt like a force like a hurricane, all wild and alluring in her air of danger which had been exciting at first. But she was all together different. Like the calm and beautiful rainbow after the storm. All pleasant and calm and her energy was happy, upbeat and peaceful. She was just...darling and he could tell she was all sweet like honey without the sting of the bees.

“So where’s Benny?” Adrilody asked as she noticed her biggest rival and cousin was not in attendance.

“She left by train to go home last night, she was no longer welcome here.” Your mother informed her.

“Ah, I take it from your tone, she lived up to her reputation.” Adrilody gathered.

“What’s her reputation now?” You asked curiously.

“Oh she’s known as Benny the Bitch now, she’s gone to three different courts to try to court different bachelors just in the last year, and she’s all about the quick fix and the immediate payoff and she’ll burn any bridge if she thinks she can get a better greener pasture at the other end and benefit in any way. She has gotten banned from five different courts in total, she keeps having her grandmother do a purification spell on her so that she can regain her virginity over and over again, she’s lost it, I don’t know how many times now. She only took this invitation because it came with the promise that her rank would not suffer and the super high pay out, because before now, her rank has suffered, does anyone know what rank she has now?” Adrilody explained.

“She tried to manipulate Audra into getting a Dowager status.” Loreiris revealed as all the new comer’s eyes grew wide as they all grimaced.

“She didn’t get it.” You reassured them as they all blew out a breath of relief.

“Does anyone know what she did get?” Adrilody asked.

“Tavnit.” Leumeni revealed with a smug grin.

“Oh thank the gods! Finally!” They all exclaimed as you could only just shake your head.

“What does tavnit mean?” Sierge asked.

“It means “no master” it means that a bride is no longer allowed to be in the bride system because she will do more damage than good and that she is beyond her welcome in it. I know this because I have Tavnit, because of the mourkatili.” You answered as they all gasped, most of them in outrage.

“It’s ok, I’m relieved I have it honestly. It means I’m not a slave to the system. I mean I’m having a Sirerinna Wedding for crying out loud. Don’t feel sorry for me, I’m getting a happily ever after with the love of my life, the system can hang itself for all I care.” You insisted with a laugh.

“Don’t be offended, just be relieved that none of you have to contend with her anymore, but she did leave behind one last victim. Sierge.” You said as you gestured over to him.

“Oh I’m so sorry.” They all offered Sierge.

“Well, like the saying says, ‘when something seems too good to be true, it usually is’.” Sierge commented as he did his best to keep his composure as the others gave him apologetic looks before they went from the dress salon to the moura jewelry shop called Orianna, that was right next door to get jewelry and other accessories for their wedding suits, even though Demsey didn’t need much of anything because your trunk of goodies had already set him up really well for all he needed or even wanted.

“So once we are done here, we have a lot to do, we need to preserve all those figs and then we have henna to do, so much henna.” Your mother suggested once everyone got what they wanted and needed from both stores.

Javyn suddenly, uncharacteristically felt that his business didn’t need much of any attending to as Demsey did all he could from his home office as Javyn did the same, trying to do as much business as quickly as he could from Demsey’s office too, as Javyn asked to come and stay with Demsey for the week since once your henna was done and needed to set, the girls came to apply the henna mixture to the boys and the rest of the Voyambi family after doing Myra Bellafont’s family and Jane and the Raymonds of course.

“So why is it white? I thought henna was usually black or even dark red?” Sierge asked as Adrilody applied it to him as he was more than happy to be in a state of undress, in only his breeches that came down to his knees but was otherwise naked and only hoped she liked what she saw as he had gone through the book and picked the design that appealed to him the most. Of course having to be shaved clean and scrubbed so that the skin was clean and fresh also made a big difference too. He wasn’t wild about losing his chest hair but having Adrilody attend to him, he’d happily go bald head to toe if it meant she’d be the one to do it because having her near was sending him into a tizzy again.

“Because for millenia, purebred mouras could capture light into clouds, long before electricity. Well when mouras would do this in the light of the full moon, they created what’s called “black light clouds” and they’re this most unusual shade of indigo violet purple but more blueish. When all the lights are off but a black light cloud is turned on, everything white glows a light blue and other colors can glow too. The white will make your body glow in the light. Audra is covered from head to toe in it so her whole body will glow, even through her clothes if they are sheer enough. It’s a tradition in many cultures for the women having henna are exempt from any housework or chores or anything for as long as the henna lasts. But the moura twist on this is there’s an aphrodisiac in the henna and it’s a sign of very good fortune if she falls pregnant before it wears off. Like an ink stain on your hand. But since she is already pregnant, she’ll just enjoy all the extra sex regardless.” Adrilody grinned as she focused on her work and did her best to ignore the handsomeness of her subject.

“And why am I being painted in it then?” Sierge asked as he watched her work in awed wonder, she was clearly an artist and it was a great honor to have himself be her canvas.

“Well, that’s another tradition everyone in all the friends and families involved in the wedding party get it done on them, it’s seen as very good luck if a wedding plants seeds of metaphorical love in others who attended the wedding and are wearing the henna get married to others wearing the henna too, we just came from The Palace of Windsor and applied some to the Raymonds and Ramsey, Octavia, Axal and Drina all got matching henna so when the black light turns on, the four of them make up a romantic unit, which here might be untraditional but in Dorierra, it’s not unusual at all, and of course Charlotte got a specific pattern that I also applied to Zax so it’ll show up on them too and even Jane, I did her hands and feet cause that’s all she wanted but Rian got the same so that even they will show up as a couple too. So that part of the tradition is already being played out, so you’re off the hook in that respect, but you are part of the wedding party, closest brother to the groom, so of course you would have a fair amount.” Adrilody explained as she kept looking at the book and then back at her handiwork on his chest to make sure she was still applying this correctly, using the right technique and following the design because if she looked into his eyes too long, she felt like she could get lost in them but she had to bide her time because she had heard from Calla what Benny had put Sierge though and she knew she needed to give him time to heal from the hurt Benny caused and hoped that Sierge wouldn’t be against mouras all together because of Benny.

And Adrilody, believed that the design chosen was indicative of the person and had watched Sierge closely as he went through the book to find a design since Sierge could pick out any design he wanted while Demsey was getting the same exact designs from your mother and grandmother as they painted him with the henna too while also casting specific spells in a chant like song and poem while they did it to ensure that Demsey would never raise a hand to you in anger or say a mean hurtful, cutting remark or let his eyes wander from you and be faithful to you in all things and of course satisfy you in every way he could.

However the design that Sierge picked out was telling to Adrilody. In her experience, men who had been wounded but were trying to tough it out usually got this design. The proud lion’s head showed strength, bravery and regal confidence but betrayed hurt and battle scars.

“So do you want this exactly how it is in the books or do you want any kind of twist with it?” Adrilody asked.

“You know, I really like the design in the book but you’re the artist, take whatever liberties you want, I’m sure it’ll come out better than the book if you do.” Sierge answered as Adrilody smiled happily as she finished the lion’s head and began to work on the mane and no longer needed to look back at the book and went head first in her own unique design.

“So what design do you think you’ll get?” Sierge asked her.

“I don’t know, I haven’t decided yet, I usually do most of mine in a mirror except for my back which I can’t reach but Jenniverre, Calla and Audra are really good at this and Jodhaa and Loreiris are just as much masters at every art including henna as they are the art of wielding the blade. I’m sure Audra especially will give me something awesome, she’s like me, she takes the traditional and gives it a twist and a spin and makes it so much more and so much better than the original. That’s why she’s such a good fighter, she shows great creativity and ingenuity but never at the cost of her own integrity.” Adrilody answered.

“Whereas Benny doesn’t.” Sierge realized.

“Nope. But I hope you won’t use Benny to judge us all and think that because she’s that way, that all of us are, because that’s not true. I mean she’s my cousin for crying out loud and even I am ashamed of her behavior and usually avoid her at home and she may technically be family but she is far from being a friend and much closer to being a foe to me personally, she likes to say that family should stick together but she backstabbed her own brothers in the Kamoba but still demands their loyalty which is wrong. She’s tried to burn me a few times in every sense, that’s why I and everyone else steer clear of her. She’s the exception and nothing like what a good moura bride should be, she takes every bad trait and turns it up to its maximum, thinking she’s being original but sadly she’s just being cliche. She had promise in the beginning but her obsession at being the biggest baddest motherfucker in the room has obviously led to her downfall. Audra was the standard for many good reasons and Benny always resented that she couldn’t reach it and instead wanted to set her own standard. Too bad it was just in the wrong direction. I’m just sorry you got mauled in the process and I wish you were the first and last but sadly, Benny leaves a trail of carnage wherever she goes and I had hoped for Audra’s sake that this place would have been the exception that even Benny would have realized that betraying Audra when she was already being betrayed by everyone around her should have been a step too far, but unfortunately, no. Just be grateful she is now far away and hopefully you’ll never have to see her again, let alone deal with her. Honestly I don’t even want to go back home if she’s going to be there raising all kinds of hell and stirring up family drama and all kinds of trouble trying to put the blame for her own consequences on anyone but herself. Honestly, you dodged a bullet not being bonded to her as did every other guy who she did the same thing to. You deserve better.” Adrilody offered apologetically.

“Thank you.” Sierge thanked her as her words were like a healing balm for his heart that she was painting over.

“Why didn’t you accept the offer to come here?” Sierge asked.

“Because the royal family could only afford for two to come “officially”. Honestly with the communications cut between Audra and the rest of us back home, we didn’t know what to think. First she leaves, then a year later we hear that she’s widowed and has shakan status and then nothing again until only a few weeks ago when only her family was invited to see her but when they called back during the messengerari’s it was the most horrific news until only a couple of days ago when she contacted me directly. A lot can happen in two years. But the chance to come to her Sirerinna Wedding, which in marinai is a true love wedding, like you’re marrying your soulmate, till death do you part, grow old together, kind of wedding because moura brides in the system usually have three to four weddings in their lives and Sirerinna is supposed to be the last, the biggest, most important in her life, it’s the one that counts for everything, none of her real friends would ever turn that down, that’s why so many of us came as fast as we could get packed, we will happily pile onto a bed or sleep in a stall with our griffins for a chance to go to that if it’s for her because we know that she would do the same for us because she has always been the best of friends to all of us and for Benny to do her so wrong just shows how awful Benny is, not Audra. From what she’s been through, it’s the least we can do and to hear what she went through while we were painting her with henna this morning, to hear it directly from her, it was heartbreaking and it’s a miracle she’s alive and she deserves better than she’s gotten so now all of us are just hoping your brother does right by her and treats her lovingly from now on.” Adrilody revealed.

“So are you married?” Sierge asked.

“No, I’ve just entered the system and just got my own classification, I’m actually a few years younger than Benny, I haven’t even gotten any offers yet, let alone get seen by any potentials yet and even right now, my mother is negotiating my proper asking price with the stable masters. But with Benny getting a tavnit status from here and with how badly she did not just you but this whole court because the Raymonds related what she did to the Royal Family who were not pleased at all, they were quite angry actually and from what I heard from Mama Yalin when I was doing this to her this morning, they were talking with the stable masters and when Benny gets home, who knows what kind of punishment she will face. Because you have to understand that every bride who leaves Dorierra, everyone is looking to her to judge her and the whole system by her and her conduct and that’s usually why most brides have to behave in such a way that is above reproach, except for Benny apparently, and because she’s come here and made a muck of it, now any bride who comes through has to be her opposite, they have to be extra good to help overcome and overcorrect the damage she’s done to repair the damage to the moura brides system’s reputation. And those brides, oof, they’re a just a different kind of severe and they’re just on the opposite end of the spectrum and make us out to be perfect, innocent, guileless, nonthreatening saints who would never dream of being clever because clever and conniving are too similar to some and that’s not fair either, because I can tell you right now that if the masters implement that protocol, none of the brides you see now would be welcome back here because all of us are classified as Rissa, which is middle of the road- too clever for the innocents, too soft hearted for intrigue and not sharp enough in wit to survive the most extreme of attacks but too witty for the simple minded and easily offended, like that saying, ‘a jack of all trades is a master of none but better than a master of one’. But my parents have always encouraged me to just be the best version of myself that I can be and at this point I’m just hoping that the right suitor will look at me and just accept me as a I am and not cut off parts of me that are inconvenient or that he doesn’t like, like the way Edward did to Audra, taking a square peg and cutting it to try to force it into a round hole, but Demsey is doing his best to mend the damage and cuts and at least try to glue on all the cut off pieces to try to make it whole again, which helps quite a bit and reassures us a lot.” Adrilody mused as she finished up with the mane of the lion and continued to fill in as she went, letting her hands practically discover the pattern that seemed to bloom in her head as she did it.

Like a writer discovering a story as they write it or an artist or architect discovering a design as they work on it as she scooted closer and let her arm rest on the other half of his chest to help brace herself and her other hand as she seemed to hyperfocus on the task at hand and that was to make Sierge’s chest her own mural as Sierge reveled in the close contact and the feel of her breath on his chest as his imagination was sweetly torturing him of fantasies of either her over him or her under him and bringing her to ecstasy and fantasizing about how much sweeter she would taste.

“Ok, if you’ll excuse me I have to refill, I’m getting low.” She excused herself as she got up to refill her piping bag with more mix.

“So how’s it going?” Jenniverre asked Adrilody in Marinai as she was there at the bowl refilling her bag too.

“It’s going good, he chose the lion, so he’s obviously trying to play it tough, Benny hurt him something deep. To kill his unborn child like it was a weed in a flower garden. That has to hurt something awful, but he’s been giving me free rein so it’s turning out really nicely. I always do my best work when I’m given free rein.” Adrilody answered.

“Mine is half way to falling for me I think, he keeps asking me all these questions about myself and what quarter I’m from and what traditions and culture I’ve been brought up with. He told me I’m his first moura troll he’s ever seen before and I think this mix is a little too heavy on the aphrodisiac powder if he’s like this with just the base work on his skin.” Jenniverre revealed.

“Well if you want him, you better snatch him fast, because with Benny tearing through here and setting this court on fire, I doubt us rissa’s will get a chance to come back, it’ll probably go to the aquiras.” Adrilody reminded her friend.

“Ooh, I didn’t think of that.” Jenniverre realized before she added another spoonful of aphrodisiac powder to the mix both in the bag and in the bowl and another few drops of the liquid pheromones in the carrier oil and another spoonful of glitter and tried to casually stir it in to make it look like she was adding more glitter to the mix before she hastily refilled her piping bag and returned to Javyn as Adrilody had already filled her bag with the mix before Jenniverre “enhanced” it.

“So what do you think you own price will be?” Sierge asked Adrilody curiously as she came back over and settled back into her rhythm of her work.

“Psh, I have no idea. A lot of factors play into the price. But my advice to you is do not try to find another moura bride right now or right after your brother’s wedding, not until you fully heal from the damage of the last. And don’t try to find a better “nicer” version of what you just experienced, because that’s not fair to you or to her.” Adrilody advised him in all seriousness.

“And honestly, look at the service Benny did for you. What Benny excels at is finding someone’s weaknesses and exploiting them and working them like a horse to the plow without any reward of food or shelter or any other necessities but instead their wants in that moment but nothing else which in the grand scheme of things, usually is nothing of real lasting value or consequence. Now that you know your weaknesses as does anyone and everyone else. Work on yourself, build up those weaknesses so that they can never be your downfall again. Because even though your family isn’t saying so, there was still a breach of trust between you and your family. Especially Demsey and even your parents. You’re grown so your father isn’t really permitting your mother from really chastizing or disciplining you for even giving the smallest of half truths to Benny in the first place. You should start by re-earning every bit of trust and respect back from everyone in your friends and family and don’t let everyone put all the blame on Benny and make yourself out to be the biggest victim and shirk any responsibility or any guilt for whatever part you had to play in it. And don’t take your winnings in the Kamoba to do that for you, money can be won or lost as quickly as it rains then shines. And also realize that there was truth in Benny’s criticisms of you too. She wasn’t just saying whatever hurtful thing she could think of. The truth when not paired with tact can hurt someone’s feelings and someone’s sense of self just as much as a lie can. Benny doesn’t mince her words when she doesn’t need to. She can be very direct and brutal in her honesty. So maybe take that to heart too and use that as your stepping stone to rebuild whatever she damaged in you too and then refortify her damage and turn her truths into an inaccuracy. That’s always the best revenge is when a harsh criticism while rooted in the past reality- no longer holds true in the present. Use this to grow yourself and your personality. That would be my advice.” Adrilody suggested as Sierge was awestruck by how profound she was in bestowing such wisdom and realized, she was right, about everything.

He had a lot of work to do on himself to be worthy of a bride like her. If anyone deserved a dowager status, it was the woman in front of him now and while it was true, he was comparing her to Benny, she had a point, that wasn’t fair to her. He really just needed to look at her and see her, not anyone else. Not a fantasy, but the reality and he had a lot to make up for and needed to make this right, because everyone deserved better from him and he shouldn’t have been so caught up in his own sexual pleasure, that he traded in his own family’s trust and respect for it. No wonder Benny went after him first, because he made himself easy prey to her. He practically rolled over and put his own throat in her jaws and had the audacity to be surprised when she bit down.

Once she was done with his chest, she moved onto his back and started humming to herself as she continued to work, pulling elements from many of the designs in the book and blending them together beautifully as Sierge was just happy and content to be her canvas and welcomed the peace that her company brought him before your mother and your grandmother came over to check up on her handiwork.

“Wow, new design Lody?” Your mother appraised as she looked over Lody’s work on Sierge in awe and appreciation.

“Yup, he let me have free rein, so I’m taking advantage, come back here,” Adrilody invited as they came around and they all gasped when they saw the impressive design radiate from the center of his shoulder blades out, like a huge mandela as your mother and grandmother took keen notes of it and looked at each other while giving each other meaningful looks with scheming grins as they each praised Lody for each well executed element of the design as Lody had to refill her piping bag twice now. Although she tried to gather the mix from the outside of the bowl where Jenniverre hadn’t “enhanced” it too much.

“You are blessed to have such an artisan as her to do your henna such as this. It’s a one of a kind work of art.” Loreiris praised Sierge which made both Sierge and Lody smile happily.

“We will have to do the same on her.” Your grandmother whispered to your mother in marinai.

“Don’t you dare.” Lody practically sang out back in marinai, trying to keep her voice and tone pleasant so as not to raise Sierge’s suspicions.

“Why not?” Your mother asked curiously.

“Can you imagine what my mother would think? For me to receive Benny’s damaged leftovers? Benny mauled his heart, mind and soul, I don’t need him thinking I’m a nicer version of Benny and I have enough problems with people thinking that about me as it is. I do not wish to be in her shadow any more than she liked to be in Audra’s. I am my own unique person. And I need my mate, whoever he may be, to see that, not see me as another her or constantly compare me to her either for my elevation or decline. Plus I’m sure Benny was brutal in her truths of criticisms, and they are still truths and I would much rather have an honorable man who would not give his self respect, much less the faith and trust of his family over to an enemy parading around as his lover and confidant for his own sexual release and momentary happiness, I’m sure he had his own motives for doing it and until I know them, I can’t trust him and neither can anyone else, so don’t you dare match my henna with his.” Adrilody repeated with a smile like “fuck you” was written on her teeth and a determined look in her eyes.

“That is true, you’re right, I apologize.” Loreiris offered.

“Thank you.” Adrilody accepted.

“So...I feel like you’re talking about me.” Sierge murmured.

“We are, we are discussing the meaning of the henna you chose and what that means about you as a person. You chose a lion, a male lion specifically. It means regal dignity, power and strength.” Adrilody revealed as Sierge seemed to puff his chest out proudly.

“It also means, that you’ve been hurt and you’re making a show of strength and confidence in trying to remain composed as you conceal your real hurt and that the mane is a defense to keep you from garnering any more battle scars. You have gotten mauled by the wolf so the lion, is an appropriate reaction.” Loreiris deduced.

“Exactly.” Adrilody nodded in agreement.

“Wait, do all of these have meanings like that?” Sierge asked.

“Oh yes, mouras are bred to read into meanings behind preferences which there has been countless years of science and research behind it in Dorrierran custom. Red can mean passion, or rage, lust or danger, it is an extreme color, the color of war and death or carnage or the color of a blush. Depending on the shade or hue. Blue can mean peace, or inaction, even laziness, tranquility or depth. Like the ocean, peaceful one moment but can be caught up in a storm the next. Green can mean life, vibrance, or the other extreme, sickness or decay, like bread mold and gangrene, again, depending on the shade and hue. Black can be mysterious, or deadly, secretive yet seductive because it shows shape but hides intent. White can be lifeless, devoid of life and color just as much as it means innocence and a fresh new start, like a piece of white paper, just waiting to be turned into a piece of art that is the purpose of the white henna, to indicate a fresh new start, it is simply a thick liquid in the bowl, but when used with intent and intelligence, can create works of art, like what is on you right now. Gold can be opulence and all consuming greed. But greater meanings is the symbolism of the patterns and animals chosen as well. A panther is strength true, but lonesome, solitary. A tortoise is slow, but deliberate, and can endure. An elephant is large, with an exceptional memory and strong family ties, but like the tortoise is slower, much more deliberate and cautious but couragous enough to go into war just as much as it is willing to help it’s rider build, moving beams with it’s trunk. An eagle is proud but aloof, a hawk is a keen hunter with great speed, but not soft or comforting. An owl is wise and long living, but detached. A viper is deadly, yet protective and demands respect and will bluff before it bites, trying to warn anything that threatens it. You chose a lion, lions like to hunt in prides, be close to families, they are defensive of their territory and will die defending it. The lion in the artwork is strong, brave, courageous. Who’s strong clean lines invoke respect and admiration. But little creativity or a willingness to bend before they break. But you did not stick to the design in the book but in fact you are open to new designs and change and even now with the softer curves in the lines that Adriolody has given the design, shows she is encouraging you to bend your will and accept that your will has to bend before it’s broken completely. You must yield for now. But will gain your strength back and be stronger than you have ever been before, which is good, you are letting go of some old to embrace new, but you still have a long way to go.” Loreiris sagely explained before she and Jodhaa left to gather the remaining henna for their own designs.

“Holy shit, does she always hand everyone’s ass to them on a platter like that?” Sierge asked Adrilody over his shoulder which got her snicker laugh and nearly snot all over him.

“Yes, be grateful she went easy on you. She has this test, where she hands you a bunch of colored squares painted on thin pieces of wood and asks you to pick your favorites and your least favorites of all the colors. For every color you love yet hate has a meaning and she will outright fuck your mind up with how accurately she hands you your ass and shows you yourself in the most accurate mirror there is- that has nothing to do with your outward appearance. She has taught many this test and what each color means whether that person likes or hates it but once she teaches you the meanings of the colors, she will not read for you again because you’ll of course choose the colors based on their meanings, not on the colors themselves to try to throw the test off, trying to get the best result. She says the best and most honest results are when someone takes it for the first time, thinking it’s just a fun little game.” Adriolody murmured in a low whisper before she finished the design on his back and moved to his arms.

“Would you do the test on me?” Siege asked curiously.

“I didn’t bring it with me, and I doubt anyone else did either. But it’s usually a fun little “game” that is played with the groom before the wedding, and the positive is shared with the groom, but the negatives are shared with the bride so that she is given a heads up so to speak about what kind of man she is marrying and what she should look out for.” Adrilody revealed in a low murmur as his arm was up and she could get a whiff of his pheromones. The henna is supposed to be affecting him, not her. It wasn’t even on her but here she was, thirsting over him. Not only did he look good but smelled heavenly to her too, it was going to be hard for her to fight the attraction once she was painted with the henna too. If only she had met him before Benny mauled him and if only he had met her before Benny. Adrilody reminded herself that once again, it was not her job to heal her cousin’s hurt. And if there was ever going to be any hope for any kind of friendship, let alone a relationship between the two of them, there had to be no confusion, conflict or distraction in his mind or heart, and right now, there was much of all three.

Once she was done she had Sierge stand in front of a messengerari to capture her work, having him slowly turn since her mural in henna stretched all around him and down his arms and was made in such a way so that even when his arms were up or down, they added to it.

“This is your best work yet Lody.” Your mother and grandmother and all the others praised as they looked it over.

“Sometimes when you give a wild horse it’s rein, it’ll show you secret lakes in the mountains.” Jenniverre quoted from one of the holy books.

“So true, she has made you into something extraordinary Sierge. Part of me thinks you shouldn’t be in the bride system Lody, Dorierra needs a talent like you at home to do this to the other brides in the Hanging Garden Quarter if not many more.” Jodhaa complimented.

“Thank you, but now my hands are tired and sore, not to mention the rest of me. I should get back to Mirador with Audra and take a bath and rest. Audra’s henna should be dry and be ready to be washed off by now, I look forward to any art she decides to bestow upon me, Audra also does her best work with free rein.” Adrilody suggested before they left, all the guys trying to stay still while they waited for the henna to dry and to stain their skin and were told to leave it on for at least an hour or two. But Audra’s henna, was supposed to be stay on all day so that when it washed off, she would practically glow.

“That looks amazing Sierge.” Amara and Kiera praised since their henna had been done first upstairs in private and only had it on their hands, feet, legs and chest, so they could still walk around as usual as Callie had wanted practically her whole body done.

“Thanks, hey, can you get Ma’ma?” He requested before they nodded and informed their mother that Sierge wanted to see her.

“Hey, oh wow, Adrilody did an amazing job with this design! I didn’t see it in the book, if I had, I would have requested this one.” His mother Gwendolyn praised.

“Thanks, all I told Adrilody was that I wanted a lion but that she could have free reign on how she gave it to me. And she did a fantastic job. And we got to talk while she put it on me and she made some really good points as she did it. She told me what lions meant in her culture and what they symbolized and she was really accurate. And she made the point that even though I was “mauled” metaphorically speaking by that bitch wolf. It was partially my fault for willingly laying down and offering myself up to be her prey. And I never should have put my own pleasure at the cost of everyone’s confidence and trust in me. I’m sorry. I’ll happily submit to any discipline you see fit.” Sierge offered to his mother who almost burst into tears.

“You should definitely apologize to your brother. And whatever he decides, you should do, since your offense was against him and Audra. You can make it up to her by keeping her condition a secret and make whatever amends she wants.” Gwen advised before Sierge came over to Demsey and did just that, offering a sincere and heart felt apology.

“Honestly, it’s going to take time to learn to trust you with anything again, and the fact that you gave her even as much as you did, means that I now know your price for our brotherly bond, which should have been priceless and it should have been sacred enough for you to never breach it and the moment you had the inkling that she was trying to jeopardize that, you should have backed off and quit her and put as much distance between her and yourself as you could, she had you ignoring the head on your shoulders by squeezing the one between your legs. And now because of your conduct, that put this family’s loyalty and integrity into question, I had Audra’s mother and grandmother literally at my throat, questioning me and my own loyalty and integrity and faithfulness, you saw what happened with Benny’s own brothers, how the moment they knew she was working you, they distanced themselves from her as did Calla and her brothers and Audra. You should have picked up on all of their cues and don’t go running where everyone is fleeing from.” Demesy lectured.

“Yeah, I hear you. I agree. I should have been more careful and read the signs of fire, instead of being enchanted by the glow of the flame.” Sierge answered, quoting from a holy book himself.

“Exactly.” Demsey smiled in relief that Sierge seemed to get it.

“I like the alicorn though.” Sierge complimented, appreciating the art on his brother’s body in turn.

“Thanks, apparently, that’s what Audra got, she’s always been a unicorn in the wild, untamable sense, the Morrigans shot her down and broke her horn, but according to her mother and her grandmother, I helped her up and gave her wings so she can take to the skies and fly right along side me. Which I thought was really sweet.” Demsey grinned as he looked at it all.

“That’s interesting, Adrilody said that all the designs have meanings and Loreiris confirmed it. Loreiris said the lion meant that I’m making a show of strength to conceal my own hurt from the mauling Benny did and, she of course was right.” Sierge revealed.

“Well damn, I wonder what the alicorn means then?” Demsey asked as he looked at it in a handheld mirror since his chest hair and the chest hair of all the guys had to be shaved off and their skin scrubbed to make the skin ready to take on the henna.

“I think Audra will tell you when you see her on your wedding day.” Sierge ventured.

“I know I can’t wait to see Jenniverre, I imagine you’re anxious to see Adrilody too, I wonder if she’ll get anything that matches yours, because Jenniverre said that I picked what she always gets herself, the stingray and that they mean peace and elegance.” Javyn practically giggled excitedly as he appraised his own henna and was delighted that it was such a clean, crisp contrast on his dark midnight blue skin as he just couldn’t stop marveling at it.

“I hope so.” Sierge found himself grinning and quite liking the thought of that.

“So? How was it?” You asked once your family came back.

“Javyn got a stingray, so who wants to put a stingray on me?” Jenniverre squealed excitedly.

“She likes him a lot, she upped the dosage of the isla in the mix,” Lody murmured in your ear in marinai as your eyes grew wide and gave her a meaningful look that she returned.

“Mom, grandma, how about you two do Jenni, I’ll take care of Lody, on my own.” You suggested as you let them take the remainder of the mix to put on Jenniverre so you could mix up fresh henna for Lody.

“So what did Sierge get?” You asked as you mixed it together thoughtfully, making sure it was the correct and was in balance.

“A lion.” Lody answered as she undressed and got into the special henna seat.

“Oooh, yikes,” you sucked in a breath through your teeth with a grimace.

“I mean Benny mauled him bad.” Lody defended.

“True,” you had to admit as you poured the mix into the bag.

“But he did let me have free rein, so I made the most amazing kick ass lion I’ve ever made, I captured it and saved it to the messengerari, here, do you have a hand held one?” She said before you handed what looked like a special hand held mirror as she opened the handle and rolled out the special typer on it and keyed in the code to bring it up.

“Wow! That’s exquisite, I hope you can duplicate it for your book. If that were in the book, everyone would get it, that is amazing!” You marveled.

“Now, please, don’t match it.” Lody requested.

“The shadow?” You guessed cryptically because when reading the meaning of henna designs or colors and their meanings, there was “the light” meaning the positives, and then “the shadows” meaning what was hidden by the light shining upon the object, when one read into the meanings of the designs and one knew the lights as well as the shadows, it helped decipher the meaning and much more importantly the intent of the person you were working with.

“Yup, the shadow.” Lody nodded in confirmation.

“Well do you mind if I still use elements and hints of this? Because this is epic and I want to try to do this justice but I promise I won’t give you a lioness or copy it faithfully, still give you something unique and one of a kind, but can I do a jaguar or a leopard, tiger perhaps?” You asked hopefully.

“Tiger.” She decided.

“Yes! Tiger it is.” You said as you had her keep the picture up to draw from as you worked diligently, trying to copy the style and the details but not the overall design as her own pattern seemed to bloom on her skin as you discovered it just as she had done with Sierge, making her whole body a mural of greater beauty than what she had done, having to refill the piping bag several times over, careful not to make sure the mix was correct and not out of balance.

“So I have a theory.” Lody noted as you were doing her arms.

“I’m all ears.” You answered.

“Because of Benny, I think this court will go to the aquiras, the same way they did in the others she tore through.” Lody murmured quietly.

“And what are you? Did you get your classification?” You asked.

“Rissa,” She answered.

“Did Benny steal the nescia status because of the other maulings in the other courts?” You asked.

“I think so. The stable masters were hoping if the whole family had a disciplinary action, that the whole family would get after her, and we tried, but, like a wolf, she mauled us too and had every excuse in the book and then some to validate her actions. I’ve already seen others come and demand audiences and auditions with my other sisters and cousins, demanding a nicer version of Benny and retribution. Thankfully Mama Chikati saw that they all had revenge and retribution in their hearts and that they meant harm and would not allow us to go to them. She instead happily took the downgrade to keep us from ever being the prey to them, knowing that they were hungry lions, simply looking to devour a poor dog in place of the wolf that mauled them.” Lody confessed.

“Although I’m happy that Sierge chose a lion whose mouth was closed, it showed that he is not actively looking to devour, simply, trying to be stoic while his wounds heal.” Lody noted.

“Now I worry for when the winter comes, I worry he will be frozen in such a state and waste away. Some chill will calm the burn and the rage, but too much will freeze and then burn again. What he needs is the comfort of his familial pride, to heal to recover, but once he is healed, hunt again, but not for the closest, easiest prey. And not to become pray to anyone else. But hunt for a prize of his own. Once he realizes his own distaste for being in the shadows of others, coming into the light, will help, of course seeing you shine in the light, your stripes a sharp contrast to the solid black coat of that bitch wolf, the black will remind him that you are like her in a few ways, a capable hunter, cunning and clever, but never at the downfall of others but purely for the survival of yourself and your den, but that you stand out and don’t wait until dark to do anything, but instead can choose to move in broad daylight and still have stealth, you do as you please, independent from a pride.” You murmured as you continued to use a striped pattern on her skin with gorgeous mini patterns both in and out of the stripes.

“Only you would see the truth of the choice, both in the light and in the shadows.” Lody praised you.

“Well all big cats share similarities, at least you didn’t go full wild dog, or a shark, seagull even.” You laughed, teasing her.

“Oh my god, don’t you dare put any of that on me.” Adrilody cackled.

“People like to say pigeons are rats with wings, nothing compared to seagulls. Those things will bite your hand for the bread and then crap right in your hair.” You barked a deep belly laugh.

“True, although they have no fear, opportunistic as they are.” Lody noted.

“That’s what Benny should be, no black wolf, just a greedy gaul.” You teased which made both of you erupt into deep laughter as you smudged and smeared the henna as you tried to quickly wipe it up and clean it before it stained that way.

But you could see, even in this moment, that Lody was fighting as you couldn’t help but feel some sense of dejavu.

“I remember when I first met Demsey, and there was that first interaction and instant attraction. But being in such a polite society. These English men, they like to think they have such high manners, such polite society. It’s pretty words and a show of civility. But pretty words can hide a silver bladed tongue, it can be the same here as it is in the orientals, where your manners are judged just as harshly. But once you find a gentle man who is gentle in any light or shadow, then you have something special. That’s what Demsey has always been, the same man in every light and shadow, he has the same kindness and affection in his eyes and in his touch in private as he does in a ballroom and never once has his touch ever had any hint of harm. Desperation from passion? Absolutely. Love and tenderness? Always. Respect, admiration and adoration? From that first moment on. First impressions are the hardest to break. Please don’t judge Sierge too harshly. He’s suffered and he is not at his best, but I’d gather close to his worst and the fact that he’s persevering and trying to remain composed, says a lot about his character too and yet you are fighting your attraction because your own pride is incensed on Benny’s behalf. I think if your attraction to him stays with you after the henna wears off and if your attraction to him stays long after the henna because your attraction started before the henna was ever a component. Don’t let Benny put a distaste in your mouth for this place or of him, much less his family because you do not want the same from Benny.” You advised.

“Deal, if he will like me enough to approach me at the stables, and never bring up Benny, I’d consider it.” Lody decided.

“Good.” You grinned.

6 notes · View notes

spiltscribbles · 3 years

Note

Any chance you could give us some Arabic speaking Remus headcanons? Loved your latest fic ❤️ 📚

OMFG gorgeous sugarplum! I legit only just was reminded of this while scrolling through my inbox right now! But my heart is finna burst!!! Thank you SO SO much and yes I would love to give some Headcanons about this! Especially since the next long story I’m working on includes this dynamic, and I’m so excited about it!! However, common disclaimer that while I am Arab and culturally Muslim even if I don’t practice like the rest of my family lol, I am Palestinian and not Syrian. So with every identity there are different experiences and customs no matter how closely intertwined. So I apologize for any inconsistency that a Syrian may read and disagree with, and please feel free to correct me<3 <3

The FIC this HC is from

So first off some background on his mum in the story

I chose the name Vivian based off a friend of a friend who’s uncle married a woman by that name back in Palestine, so it’s definitely extremely uncommon, but a fully Arab lady was named it, so like it’s my defense bahaha. But it also means lively, and coupled with Hussein as her maiden name which means beautiful, it just fit her personality to a t!!

She was born into a pretty secular family in Syria in the late 1920s, so there was a lot going on in that time period. But her dad was pretty influential, working in the government and such. Vivian was also the youngest of four girls and three boys so she was pretty spoiled tbh

She attended a boarding school in France through out her adolescence and decided to go to university there too, so she’s fluent in both Arabic and French, with pretty great English as well. Though she wasn’t exactly white passing, even though like a bunch of Syrians/Palestinians/Lebanese folk she was somewhat fair, she had distinctly Arabian features, like the large almond shaped eyes and thick lashes and thicker brows, and a long, largeish nose, accented by full lips. So she experienced a good amount of jeers and discrimination, especially when folks found out her surname. So I think she’s able to relate to Remus in that sense of being a wolf at least, and later on when he comes out as gay.

It was 1950 when she and a few of her girlfriends went to Wales for holiday after completing university. The second Lyall first spotted her in the woods while she was trying to make it back to the cabin near the Irish Sea with her mates, it was something like love, because duh. She was a fucking knock out!! A babe and a baddy! Literally so far out of his league its ridiculous! But on Vivian’s side, she was mostly just amused and a bit enamored by this cocksure Welshman who had the most endearing of crooked smiles that their son would inherit a decade later. So obviously she didn’t make it easy on him, but eventually she let him take her out on the last night of her trip, and was pleased to find out that they had the same sort of humor and the same passion for their careers and even the same love for the outdoors too.

They had a long distance relationship for two years while she went to grad school so she could teach about classics while Lyall himself was rising the ranks in the Ministry for regulation and control of magical creatures— Unbeknownst to her, the Floo network was very helpful with the distance. Just thank God Lyall himself is a Muggle born because he really had to fake the hell out of it lol.

So just to speed things up they got married on a lovely June evening in 1955, subsequent to Vivian excepting a professorial job in Cardiff after Lyall told her about the Wizarding world. At first Vivian thought e was tripping on some subpar edibles until he proved it by transfiguring her snuff box into a lovely broach that she kept for the rest of her life, So after Vivian was convinced, she became absolutely enthralled by all of the magic so completely.

They were trying for a few years when she finally became pregnant with Remus in 1959, and they were both so over the moon (pun unintended).

So like I said above, Vivian’s family are pretty secular, so I see her mostly practicing the cultural aspects of Islam. For example, every Friday— which is the equivalent to Sundays being the holy day for Christians— she lights up the instance that she always keeps herself stocked up on after her annual trip to Syria, instead of the typical candles she ordinarily prefers. And Remus swears that for the rest of his life whenever he smells it, he’s back to being a baby, puttering around the house and watching her dusting the shelves while humming quietly an Arabic song that’ played out the gramophone by a man who’s music would soon become regarded as the song of the people. Or Remus would recall being snuggled into her lap while she read him a novel on the windowsill. Or he’d simply remember listening to his parents laughter fluttering in the air while he fell asleep by the fire, subconsciously making the flower buds closest to him bloom with his untapped magic.

Remus’s first clear memory— thanks to the endless pictures— is when he was around four years old, before the attack, and they were staying in Vivian’s home town in Damascus. While the men congregated out doors for cigars and cards and the women in the living room chatting while snacking on watermelon seeds, his older cousins— who were all girls— dragged him off to one of the bedrooms and doted on him because he was the baby of that side of the family. And he remembers walking out in a set of one of their heels and a headscarf wrapped around his head which made his Mama and Tata and Aumties laugh out loud and croon over him, and all his uncles and Sido call him Aumty Remus.

The attack by Greyback happened soon after they returned to Wales, and I’m not gonna touch on it becs I’ not finna depress myself. But it was a January morning after his first transformation and he remembers that when he woke up, he saw the cookies stuffed with dates resting on his bedside with a glass of milk that Lyall had put a cooling charm on. And they’re indulgent treats that Vivian makes for both Eids every year even though they don’t celebrate them in any other way lol. But the cookies always reminds him of family and of feeling safe in his mother’s arms, and they still work to make him feel better even after the worst thing he has ever experienced in his short life.

Remus’s love of poetry came from both sides of his parents, but it was listening to his mother recite the story of Majnun Layla in it’s original Arabic that really made him glow for the art form, and brought him to discovering his favorites like Auden and Neruda.

There’s a ornate, wooden prayer box that has been past down on the Hussein side of the family for five generations, it was originally meant to hold a Qran but for the past three it’s simply just been a beautiful piece of decoration. So when Vivian gave it to Remus when he was headed off to Hogwarts, little Remus asked McGonagall to help him with locking charms so it could become a safe place for him to keep his most cherished of nicknacks ant momentos, so obviously, she silently added a charm to keep the wood nearly unbreakable and the extension charm atop of that, like Hermione with her bag, so that he could keep as many happy memories as possible inside of it, and she prayed that there would be so many that it threatened to burst.

The last time Remus opened the box was in 1996, when he was putting away the ring Sirius gifted him as a match to his own in some feeble promise of forever only weeks before James and Lily’s own engagement.

Once during first year, he and the lads were staying up late, trading stories about how they got their most ridiculous scars— after seeing the one that scraped across Remus’s left shoulder blade— But it got to a point where they were all feeling a bit nippish, so they went down to the kitchens for some of the chocolate pudding that was served during dinner that night. And Remus idly asked the house elves if they could make him a batch of Kinafa because he was getting home sick and missed when he and his Mama would dash over to the city whenever they were feeling antsy, and she’d take him to their favorite hooka bar after buying a round of the dessert— which is basically sweetbread stuffed with cheese— from down the block. And they’d stay sitting beneath the starlight, and talking about her job and his lessons from school while she’d let him try a discrete puff or two and they’d laugh about everything and nothing at all.

The next time they stopped by the kitchens one of the younger house elves presented him with the snack gleefully, and it tasted fine, just not like how they do back home. So Remus smiled warmly at Tipsy, the house elf, and thanked her with real sincerity.

But his face must’ve betrayed him because after easter break, Sirius plops down a fresh batch of them on Remus’s bed before leaping into his own, casually mentioning that he saw how grossed out Remus looked when trying the one the house elves made, and it was from a restaurant close to Grimmauld so it’s not that big of a deal, and then he rushed to cursing at James for stealing his favorite pen and swearing that if he broke it he’s gonna have hell to pay. Remus had only blushed and chuckled with a small smile on his face when he cut himself a small piece and finished the half sheet off with the rest of their house later that night during an impromptu party that the Marauders would become infamous for in later years.

It was the summer after second year when all the marauders visited Remus back home in Wales and when they heard Vivian call him Qamar practically every other sentence, which of course lead to endless ribbing and eventually to his nickname of Moony— even though it’s so fucking obvious and Remus loves and hates it in equal parts. God his friends are so fucking stress inducing!

Remus teaches the other marauders funny Arabic curse words and they use them in class so that they can talk shit about particularly disgusting Slytherins without them being any of the wiser. (Yes I did do this with my friends, and I’d do it again! POW! POW! POW!)

It’s from Vivian that Remus has an affinity for coffee as strong as shit, but also prefers his tea weak— specifically two sugars and a dash of milk. But seriously, if you’ve ever tried Arabian coffee you’d understand, that shit is so fucking strong it’s literally a hate crime LMFAO. But yeah, this habit is definitely a point of contention between him and Sirius— who’s actually so fucking posh no matter how much he wants to be punk, and he stands by only drinking black tea— like Merlin intended— and saying bugger off to any and all coffees. “Leave that shite to the French and Americans.” And Remus would try to keep himself from making eyes at him from across the table, because God Sirius is hot when he’s all fiery and impassioned, even when it’s about the dumbest, most inconsequential shit.

Something that’s sort of funny is that Remus was the first among them to become a fucking pot head and could drink them all under the table even though Sirius himself has got two stone and three inches on him. But Remus still refuses to eat ham, purely because he never grew up eating it and doesn’t care too now. Sirius had to specifically ask Euphemia and Monty to make turkey for Christmas dinner their sixth year just because he knew that Remus’s head would probably implode with the decision between being rude and not eating it or forcing himself to gag down the unfamiliar meat.

When Remus is really, really fucking drunk he definitely spends the night only speaking in Arabic! (Don’t look at me I’m trash just because I stole this from my own life lmfao) But yeah, it’s really fucking hilarious and Sirius swears to God he’s so fucking in love with him while listening to Remus ranting in the unfamiliar language. And he’s like positive that half the time he’s actually just cursing Sirius out but he doesn’t even care because it’s SO! DAMN! CUTE! And sometimes Sirius decides to speak French at a drunk off his arse Moony, who occasionally replies back in a stiff staccato before returning back to the easy Arabic. And it’s just a mess.

Ok so sadness warning

In my head, Vivian loses her fight against breast cancer the July after the Marauders graduate from Hogwarts, and afterwords Remus gets a tattoo of her name in Arabic on his chest, and the word for soul on the nape of his neck. He locks away that battered copy of Magnun Layla in the wooden box she gave him years ago, along with a woolen scarf that smelt like her perfume.

It’s Sirius who buys a set of prayer beads to hang off her photo above the mantel in the flat he and Remus share, and when Remus sees it he literally feels like he might crack open with tears, but opts to kiss Sirius thank you instead, and they stay tangled on the sofa for the rest of the day in quiet contemplation.

One night, in late 1979, while the war was only getting worse and worse— Sirius was hit by a cutting curse to the ribs. And it was really fucking bad, but thankfully James got him to his house in time for Lily to help and heal. He slept for the most part for nearly an entire day, but remembers snippets. Like when Remus had sprinted into the room with fear painted all over his soft features, and when James put a cooling cloth to his head. But most distinctly, Sirius recalls Remus gingerly lying besides him and Sirius talking gibberish at his boyfriend while Remus plunged his entire face against his back, eyes wet with tears and body shuttering as he squeezed him softly, saying something quietly in Arabic. Sirius obviously didn’t understand like 99.9% of it, but he did catch the word “Habibi,” which he instantly remembers as an old pet name Vivian use to call Remus with so much love it made her entire countenance sparkle. It’s an endearment that means beloved, or darling, and it feels like Remus is begging Sirius to stay with him and Sirius’s throat is still raw from the screaming, so he can only reply by dragging Remus’s hand up to his mouth and kissing his knuckles tenderly. And he knows that whatever he does for the rest of his days, he loves Remus Lupin with every cell in his body.

Oof this got mad depressing…. Chow anyways, I can add a picture of the container you’re suppose to use for the instance if anyone wants that?

Thank you again dear Nonny!!!

Ask Me For Headcanons About A Story I’ve Written Or For One You Want To See Written

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #MARAUDERS #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #HEADCANONS #HEADCANONS BY LEN #FIC: MAMA LUPIN IS A BABE

32 notes · View notes