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13as07 · 3 months

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Our #2

(Shikamaru Nara Smut)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to anandaneeg]

Requested by: Myself

Keys:

None

Word Count: 3,438

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Name Calling: Spoiled, Brat, Lair, Good Girl, Sir

Exhibitionism (public sex)

Biting (like twice)

Soft Domination (aka Shika's inability to not be in control but being too lazy to be rough)

Burn Marks/Temperature Play (aka getting brunt by Shikamaru's cigarettes (again))

Spanking

Creampie

Orgasm Denial (slightly)

Humiliation/Degrading/Begging

Praising

Choking

Smoking/Smoke Play (again, cause it's hot)

Cockwarming

Part 3? Probably because I like this story line and I’m a wh*re

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The second the door of the banquet hall clicks shut, Shikamaru's arms wrap around me, tugging me against him. "Hello pretty girl," he murmurs against my skin, his lips brushing against my throat. I soak in the feeling of my boy-fiancé, finally getting him alone now that the last partygoer is gone.

"Hello," I breathe out, my own hands clinging to his wrists.

One of his hands snakes up to my collarbone, his fingers pressing into the sensitive skin again and causing the familiar mix of pain and pleasure to coat my nerves. Shika's other hand rubs lazy circles into my hips, hiking up my dress as he does so. "Today was such a drag."

"It wasn't that bad," I whisper, squirming once the pads of his fingers come into contact with my now bare skin. Shikamaru hums in agreement, his nose nuzzling the sleeve of my clothing out of the way so he can litter my shoulder in kisses. "Shika?"

He hums again, his other hand dropping down to hike the other side of my dress up as well.

"Knock it off," I whine, trying to tug my clothing back down as my face heats up.

"Why?" He asks, his teeth grazing my shoulder as his fingers play with the band of my underwear.

"Someone could walk in."

"And yet that seems to excite you," Shikamaru teases, his fingers dipping into my panties and sliding through my folds. I can feel the smirk on his face as he kisses back up my neck.

"No," I fight back, the word coming out as a whine.

"Aw, so you're a lair now?" Shika continues teasing me, gently pushing me forward until we come into contact with the door. "Hands up, pretty girl."

"Yes sir," I murmur, laying my hands flat against the wooden door. My good behavior is rewarded with a couple of light circles pressed against my clit. "I don't want to get caught, Shika. It's too soon for us to cause a scandal."

A soft chuckle bubbles from the new chief pressed up behind me. "I just want a quickie, pretty girl," I whine at his answer, not because of disapproval but because of disappointment and he knows it. "What a spoiled brat," Shika groans, his hands working at pulling my underwear down to my knees.

"I'm spoiled because of you," I huff back, my knees clicking shut at the sudden chilliness. Shika hums in agreement, his hands clinging to my knees to pull them open again.

Shikamaru rubs himself against my ass, his pants still separating my bare pussy from his hard-on. His teeth graze my skin again, but this time it's followed by the soft sinking of his teeth into my neck. "Pretty girl," he purrs against my ear once he parts himself from me.

"Shika?" A disapproving hum escapes him, making me rethink my words. "Sir?"

"Good girl," his answer comes, sending a shiver down my spine. Shikamaru moves again, one of his hands moving behind me and the other one going back to my clit. His fingers work at rubbing circles into me, his touch being faster and heavier this time.

The sound of his belt clinking open causes me to clench around nothing in anticipation. The thought of me not being anywhere close to wet enough let alone stretched causes me to clench again.

"Stay still," Shika orders as he moves my body where he pleases. He shifts my hands further down the door before pressing me up against it, my burn marks from earlier sizzling again from the rough texture. His hand presses into my back for the millionth time today, making my back arch down, my ass arches up, and my marks grind against the door.

A whine of pain spills from me as the wood rubs against my sensitive skin. "Pretty girl," Shikamaru groans, "making those sounds are going to test my stamina." His words are followed by him moving my dress up again, leaving it and my new clan cloak to rest against the arching of my spine.

"This is supposed to be a quickie, right?" I tease, shifting my hips backward.

The tip of Shika's dick taps against my thigh before I'm pushed back against the door. "It won't be much of a quickie if you can't behave," he warns, "Stop being a brat."

Tap, tap, tap.

His orders are followed by soft taps to my hip, his soft way of redirecting me.

I give into what he wants, readjusting myself into place. Despite my compliance, I make a mental note to play hard to get when we get home. After all, Shikamaru can't get everything he wants so easily.

Shikamaru falls forward, his hands pressing mine into the door and his tip gently pressed against my opening. "Be a good girl and don't complain, yes? I know you can take it all." I nod my head yes in response.

Tap, tap, tap.

This round of redirecting is a little harsher, but not enough to sting; just enough for my body to notice the increase. "Use your words, pretty girl."

"Yes sir," I murmur, the sparks from the half-assed spanking making me clench again. Another approving hum is released, unwillingly filling me with pride. I hate how quickly I submit to him and how soft and easy it is for him. I'm definitely going to give him a run for his money when we get home.

Shikamaru tests the water, popping his head in and out of me a couple of times before sinking himself all the way in. A long, low groan is released, contracting the sudden stretch and slight burning from the lack of prep. "That's my good girl," he murmurs into my ear, his fingers lacing up with mine. "Who's my good girl?"

I whine, pushing myself further into the door before falling back into place. "Apparently not you," he huffs, his hips thrusting forward to keep me pressed up against the door. "Why can't you just behave? Behave."

"I'm sorry," I whimper, thrusting my hips backward again. "Please fuck me, sir."

Shika twitches in me, causing a smug smirk to cross my face. "Fuck," he says, a hiss of a breath following the word. The nickname gets me what I want. Shikamaru pulls himself out of me before bottoming out again. He puts himself to work, paces fast, and thrusts shallow as he moves in me. My slick starts to build up from the movements, quickly making up for the lack of prep.

The feeling of Shika's constant pace and his hands gripping mine like a lifeline fill my head with fog. "Pretty girl?" The words cut through the fog, pulling my attention back to him.

"Shika?"

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

His pace stutters as he taps my hip again, his hand moving fast with need but a lack of will to give into me. "Shikamaru?"

Tap. Tap. Tap.

My skin stings after this round of redirection, Shikamaru's patience running thin. "Sir," I murmur, shifting my hips back to match his thrusts.

"Yes," he breathes out, hands back to being wrapped up in mine. "I'm filling you up, pretty girl. Do you know how lucky that makes you?"

"Shika."

Tap, tap. Tap, tap. Tap, tap.

The sound of his hand connecting to me echoes through the empty room. The skin under his touch stings even more, making memories of getting my burn marks bubble into my mind.

"You should be thankful," he whispers into my ear, his tone lazy and harsh. "Tell me how thankful you are to be used by me."

I hum out a no, pairing it with a head shake. Instantly, Shika stops his thrusts, his dick pushed as far into me as allowed in our position. "Shikamaru," I whine, shifting my hips backward.

"No," he husks out, pushing me against the door with the whole of his body weight so I can't give myself any friction. "If you want to act like a fucking brat, I'll treat you like a brat. So, we will sit here until you do as you're told."

"Shikamaru," I whine, trying to wiggle under him with little success. "You said you'd be quick so we wouldn't get caught." My walls clench at my statement, making me cuss under my breath.

"Oh ya? You seem to like the idea of being caught. Is that what you want? To have someone walk in and see how easily you spread yourself for your Chief?"

"You're being mean," I whisper, trying to squirm around to get any kind of friction, the need for it quickly becoming intolerable.

"If you'd listen, I wouldn't have to be mean. Be a good girl for me, behave. Tell me how thankful you are."

I whine and whimper under him for a couple of seconds, only being met with stillness. "Shika!"

"Stop being a dumb little brat."

More disappointing noises fall from me, getting me a soft bite on my shoulder. "Shika." I prepare for the new round of spanking but don't get it. I'm enjoying it too much and Shikamaru knows it. "Sir," I try again, getting rewarded with a soft kiss on my shoulder. "I'm thankful to be used by you, to be used in any way you see fit."

Bingo. Shika's hip fall back into rhythm, this time with heavier thrusts. He tugs me back into position, my back aching from the constant arch. "Is it so hard for you to behave?" His breath is shaky as he pushes out the question, his climax crawling near as he tries to keep his composure.

"No sir."

"Than be a good girl," Shikamaru's words are sloppy, his thrusts matching the tone of his voice. His fingers cling to mine tighter, his ring digging into my hand as he holds on to me. "Be my pretty girl," the sentence is muffled by his head buried into my neck. As soon as the sentence is out, Shika stales in me, buried deep like before. It doesn't take long for warmth to fill my insides up, the promise of my walls being coated in his cum.

Shikamaru's breathing is heavy and hot as it collides with my skin. Despite his tiredness, I still whine and squirm from under him. "Hey," I whimper, shifting my shoulder to move his head around. "I didn't get to finish. Why didn't you pull out? Shika!"

"Whiney brats like you don't get to finish. Besides, I wouldn't want us getting caught," he teases, thrusting into me a few more times to push his cum deeper into me. "It was too much work to pull out. Your ungratefulness is a drag. I need to teach you to be grateful and less spoiled."

A whine spills over as I try to tug Shika's hand down to my pussy. He pulls it away from me and instead uses it for another light punishment.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

"Spoiled," he murmurs to himself, slowly sliding out of me. He rubs himself between my thighs, using me to clean the mess off his dick before tucking it away. "Spoiled, whiney, ungrateful brat." His degrading is followed by a hand being shoved into the roots of my hair. "Say it," Shikamaru orders, using his hold on my hair to tug my head backward, forcing me to look at him.

"I'm a spoiled, whiney, ungrateful brat," I whisper back, tugging my dress back into place.

"I can't hear you," he says, his grip tightening and shifting my head back further.

"I'm a spoiled, whiney, ungrateful brat," I groan, my volume louder this time.

My compliance is rewarded with a soft kiss and my hair being released. Once Shikamaru parts from me, I dip my hands down to pull my panties back up. "No," he murmurs, tugging my hand away. "Take them off."

"Shika-"

"Do not start with me again," he warns, "my patience are already thin. Keep acting up, I dare you." His warnings are paired with a sharp glare to solidify his words.

"Yes sir," I murmur, tugging my panties off before tucking them into the pocket of my cloak.

Once again I'm rewarded, this time with a string of kisses. "There's my good girl. You are so pretty when you behave." I can feel my headstrongness slip at his words. This is why I submit so easily, why I'm so eager to behave for him, all because of his stupid little praises.

Shika smiles to himself, his arm wrapping around my waist as he tugs the door up. "Good girl," he repeats, hand sliding under my cloak to rub along my aching spine and gently push me along the sidewalk.

"Shikamaru," I whine, clinging to his arm. I don't like the feeling of desperation that's causing my thighs to rub together as we walk. I don't like the chilled air stroking my pussy, highlighting my lack of finishing, the cum leaking out of me, and the wetness left between my legs.

He does though. Shikamaru is beaming with smugness as he ushers me down the street. "You're fine, pretty girl. Be good when we get home and I'll be nice."

Tap, tap, tap.

His ring pressing into my hip solidifying his direction. "Be good," he repeats.

The rest of the walk is filled with my whining and the feeling of Shika slowly leaking out of me, only emphasizing my neediness and his smugness.

I clench around nothing when the sight of our front door falls into view; a symbol of my promised finish to come. I go to dart inside and happily spread myself out, settling on the need to cum outweighs my want for Shikamaru to work for it, but I get stopped on my path. "Hold on, pretty girl. I want a smoke."

"Shika!"

"Ten minutes, spoiled brat. You can wait." I let a pout sit on my face, a soft kiss from Shikamaru trying - but failing - to chase it away.

I continue to pout, lip puffed out and arms crossed as he sits down on the porch. Watching his arms flex as he pulls out his pack and lights a cigarette doesn't help the burning need in my stomach. The sight of the grey smoke leaking from his mouth doesn't help either.

"Come here, pretty girl. Stop pouting." I - mostly - do as I'm told. I sulk over to him, sliding myself between his knees. They lock around me, squeezing me a bit when I'm in place. "You are spoiled, you know that?" He asks, resting his smoke between his lips before messing with his belt.

"I know," I whisper, a smile quickly replacing my previous pout. My hands slide over Shikamaru's hair, quickly finding the hair tie keeping it in place. I carefully work the elastic band off, his hair following down once it's let loose. He looks so pretty with his hair down, I wish he'd wear it loose more often.

Once his pants are undone, warm hands collide with my waist, pulling me into his lap. "Be good and sit still, okay?"

"What do I get if I do?" I ask, my fingers nimble as I pull him out of his boxers again.

"Can't you behave because I asked?"

"No," I answer back, the word coming out airy as I slide down onto him. My hands lace strands of his hair around my fingers before I shift myself into a comfortable spot. Once I'm comfortable, I settle down, making sure I do as I'm told. I can't survive being denied an orgasm again.

Shika's eyes are closed and his jaw is shut tight. A mix of still present sensitivity and his will to fight slipping being the cause of it. "Just... be good, be my pretty girl." Shivers slide down my spine. I don't know how after all these years being called his pretty girl still gets to me.

When his eyes snap open, they settle on me. Shikamaru's free hand wraps around my throat, squeezing it gently. My mouth parts, obeying my newest taught command. "At least you learn quickly," he murmurs, following his new routine. A long drag is inhaled from his cigarette before he exhales it into my mouth. "Hold it, pretty girl."

I reluctantly do as I'm told, snapping my mouth shut to try and hold the smoke in my lungs better. This is a test, a lose-lose situation so Shikamaru has an excuse to continue being mean. The want to squirm builds up with my need for oxygen, and he knows it. He knows I'll either squirm or exhale before being allowed to. Shika won't admit it but he likes me bratting just as much as I like doing it. It's not stimulating enough for him when I behave.

My lungs win out before my hips do, the smoke seeping out as I suck in a needy breath. "Why can't you just be good?"

Tap, tap, tap.

This time the redirection is emphasized by small sparks jumping from his cigarette, colliding with my dress before snuffing themselves out. This catches Shikamaru's attention, getting me a pushed-up dress with my thighs exposed. The spot of our connection catches in my view, tugging a soft moan from my throat.

The promise of getting burned again today drains more arousal into my stomach, causing me to pulse around Shika. His hand squeezes my throat again, but I waiver in my submission. "This isn't a fair game, sir."

"So? Whoever said I played fair? Don't squirm and don't exhale unless I say so. Just be a good girl." The smirk on his face makes me tingle more. This is the true punishment for being a brat earlier. I made him work to get off, so now he's going to be mean and unfair.

Two soft squeezes dip into my skin, and again I'm reluctant, but my mouth does fall open. Two deep drags are sucked into Shika's lungs, a promise of an even harder task to keep a hold of. The smoke is pushed into my lungs again, burning the whole way down.

A pout slides onto my face when I snap my mouth closed, but Shikamura doesn't care. He's going to win and we both know it. His fingers slide over my neck, tickling my skin to push my failure forward.

When that doesn't work, an unneeded flick of his cigarette happens, nicking my thighs with small sparks; that does work. My thighs jerk, closing around Shika's torso before falling up.

Tap, tap. Tap, tap.

The soft smacks cause more sparks to settle onto my skin, causing me to jerk again. The cycle repeats twice more before I'm given some relief. "Exhale, pretty girl." Once again I quickly push the smoke out and suck in a sharp breath.

I force my pout out deeper, adding a soft whine to it. "Stop whining. Spoiled brats whine. If you were less spoiled you wouldn't be in this position."

"It's your fault I'm spoiled," I huff, adding a soft tug to the strains of hair caught in my grasp.

"I know," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. "You still lost though," Shikamaru adds before taking a dying drag of his cigarette.

"Because you're being mean," I answer, tugging on his hair again.

"I know," he repeats, shoving the butt against the porch step before testing it against his finger. Once he's happy with the temperature, he pushes the dying stick into the side of my thigh, stamping small heated circles along my skin. The soft sizzling of my skin causes my leg to jerk away again.

Tap, tap.

Despite my misbehavior, the circles making my skin raw are followed by light kisses being pressed into my neck. "Do you promise to be my pretty girl now? Are you going to be good?"

"Yes sir," I answer, burying my head into the crook of his neck.

"I don't believe you," Shika says, the almost dead heat now being pressed into my hip. "Make me believe you and I'll spend the rest of the night making you feel good."

"Promise?"

"I promise, pretty girl."

"I'll be good, sir. I promise. I'll behave. I'll do everything you say."

"I still don't believe you." Yes, he does. I know he does cause his arms wrap around my back, and hold me closer to his chest. He wants me to beg, he wants to hear my desperation.

"Please Shikamaru? I want you to make me feel good. I need you to make me feel good. Pretty please?" He twitches in me, I win.

"You're spoiled," he reminds me once again tonight. Shika lifts me, keeping himself buried in me as he carries me inside. I am spoiled.

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#naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden oneshot #naruto shippuden x reader #shikamaru nara oneshot #shikamaru oneshot #shikamaru nara x reader #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru nara #shikamaru smut #shikamaru nara smut #naruto shippuden smut

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random-ln-stuff · 2 years

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The Pretender is a prisoner at the Nest just like the Craftsman and Butler.

In very little nightmares the main theme with the enemies are that they’re all trapped in the nest by some other person.

The Craftsman’s legs are broken and he’s restricted to a wheelchair, making it impossible for him to leave the Nest, and based on how his feet are literally facing the wrong way it’s obvious that someone else did that to him.

The Butler’s hands are locked behind his back, making it impossible for him to do things without his powers and most importantly, leave the Nest.

But I’ve never seen someone apply that theme to the Pretender. Because while the thought that they’re the one in charge of the Nest is nice, they’re a child. There’s a good chance they don’t even know where their dolls come from.

The Butler and Craftsman are obviously trapped in the Nest, but the Pretender is trapped in a more subtle way. It’s a gilded cage. The Pretender is spoiled beyond belief and has the Butler tending to their every need, but it’s all to distract them from the fact that they can’t leave the Nest.

Just consider this for a second. The Pretender may be a spoiled brat, but they’re still a child. They’re still a child in this world where the adults view children as pests to be exterminated at best, and food to be cooked at worst. The idea of a child in this world where children are universally hated being cared for with no strings attached sounds laughable at best. So surely the person that put them here, the same person that twisted the Craftsman’s feet backwards and locked up the hands of the Butler, has some sort of ulterior motive for caring for this child.

And I have one possible explanation for this whole thing.

The Pretender is a being like Mono.

Let me explain.

Mono is destined to become the Thin Man. Mono is a child with incredible power that’s destined to become an adult with incredible power that keeps the signal tower running until it’s their turn to die and be replaced by their past self.

The Pretender also has incredible power. They can literally disintegrate a person by touching them. So it would make sense for them to eventually grow up to become a being with incredible power.

Now I can’t go any further without talking about the Lady’s connection to the Nest and the Pretender.

First of all, the Nest is directly connected to the Maw because children are stored in the Nest (in the attic, as far away from the Pretender as possible, might I add) before they are taken to the Maw.

Secondly, the Nomes. Aka what is left of a child after the Lady consumes their souls. The presence of nomes usually means the presence of the Lady, and they’re everywhere in the Nest.

There’s also the fact that both the Pretender and the Lady have a connection to dolls, with the Pretender playing with them and the Lady being seen holding one like a child, brushing it and even humming what sounds like a lullaby to it…. …Wait a minute…. The Lady was acting motherly with that doll. In a world where that very act goes against how adults work. She even seemed to be experienced in doing so. So if anyone were going to actually care for a child in this world, it would be her.

Plus there’s the picture of the Pretender’s father in the Nest (or at least his legs) along with a picture of that same man now hanging from a noose in the Nest as well. And we see that man physically in the Maw, hanging from a noose in a faked suicide (it’s fake because the chair is directly below him and not kicked away, but he’s somehow still several feet off the ground.) So the Pretender’s father was definitely aboard the Maw, but what about her mother? To be honest, she’s probably the one who killed him and made it look like a suicide.

Plus someone pointed out that the Lady and the Pretender have similar hairstyles. The Pretender’s hair is just a bit longer. If her mother is the Lady, that would make sense. The Lady does her hair when she’s at the Nest and while she’s away, the Pretender’s hair grows longer because there’s no one in the Nest that’s able to cut it (The Butler can’t use his hands, remember?).

Plus, when RCG tries to sneak past the Pretender, it resembles the Runaway Kid trying to sneak past the Lady. Think about it. The main characters accidentally surprise them in a moment of vulnerability (the Lady viewing her face and the Pretender mourning her doll), the antagonists let out an ear-piercing shriek that affects their surroundings in some way (When the Pretender screams, RCG is frozen from pain/shock for a couple of seconds and the surroundings briefly distort and the when the Lady screams, the lights shatter and RK is left cold and in complete darkness) and then the main characters get chased.

There’s also the fact that the Lady is the owner of the Maw, a restaurant occupied by only the wealthiest of individuals. She could definitely afford the Nest and everything in it.

You can try and refute this by saying that the Pretender looks nothing like the Lady, with white hair instead of the Lady’s black hair, but the Pretender is most likely albino. Of course they don’t have the Lady’s black hair.

So the Pretender is most likely the Lady’s daughter, but what does that have to do with the Pretender being like Mono? Because if the Pretender is the Lady’s daughter, she’s most likely supposed to be the next Lady of the Maw. Six was never meant to be the Lady, and based on how the first thing they do upon gaining the Lady’s powers is leave the Maw, they most likely will never be.

The Pretender is destined to become the next Lady. The Pretender is a child with incredible power that’s destined to become an adult with incredible power that keeps the Maw running until they have a child of their own that will one day replace them.

Hell, the Pretender’s disintegration powers might be a variation of the Lady’s magic. What if the Pretender wasn’t actually disintegrating the people she touches, but rather turning them into nomes? It would certainly help explain why so many nomes can be found in the Nest.

But Mono had the time loop guaranteeing that he ends up in the signal tower and doesn’t die somewhere along the way, which is very easy to do when you are a child in a world where everything wants to kill you, but there’s no time loop involved with the Pretender or the Lady, so how do you make sure that your child, in a world where children are hunted for sport, survives to adulthood and still wants to run the Maw as an adult on top of that?

You keep them in the Nest, away from the chaos of the outside world and make sure that they’re kept happy and unaware of things like what this world is truly like, what exactly her mother does for a living, what happened to her father, where these perfectly lifelike dolls actually come from and what she will one day become.

#little nightmares #very little nightmares #analysis and theories #the pretender #the lady #mono #‘’the pretender is evil!’’ sir that’s a child #her role models are literally a man with psychic powers who’s first response to seeing a child is to hit it with a fucking chandelier #and the lady.#who twisted her own employees feet backwards and permanently disabled him to prevent him from leaving #consumes the souls of children and adults alike #and is a literal cannibal #i’d be a pretty violent child too if that’s who I’m learning my morals and behaviours from

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yvnaslut · 1 year

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ITZY CHECKMATE WORLD TOUR- part 1 (YUNA)

pairings : make reader-Yuna

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

It all started when you were hired as itzy’s new manager , just before the checkmate world tour.

“Hello I am y/n and I am your new manager ! I look forward to be working with you.”-you said. All of the itzy members completely ignored you , leaving you in an embarrassed situation. A very loud scream inturrepted the awkward silence “Ya!Ryujin unnie give it back!”

“Haha… what do we have here ? Yuna-ah taking pictures of the new manager! I think she has a little crush ..”

“No ,I don’t ! Now give it baaack!!”

While these two girls were fighting over yuna’s camera , the other three girls were whispering to eachother , luckily you could hear what they were saying:

“Chaeryeong don’t be shy, I am sure the new manager will talk to you”

“I bet he has a huge-“

“Unnie! He can hear you, you know?…”

The next few days were similar , Ryujin and yuna (aka the brats of the group) fought over little things that didn’t matter , and the other girls were in their own world , always whispering and of course not saying anything to you.

Until , one day you decided to finnaly break your silence and demand them an explanation. It was a very cold day and the girls were rehearsing at night , when they came back home , surprised that you were still awake :

“Listen , I can’t go on without saying anything so, either you guys start bonding with me on your free will , or I will force you into it”

“Ha ha… what will you do to force us then? “

Yuna gasped when just after a few seconds , you bent her over the table and started whispering :” Oh, you better be scared of me because I will be your manager , like it or not.” - fighting the urge to not spank her ass in front of her members.

All the girls were quiet and went into their rooms after that , and you just knew that things were about to change.

The next day , you heard a knock on the door- “Come in!”

“Hey… “- Your cock started twitching after you heard this simple word

“Hey , what’s up ?”

“Oppa I just came here to tell you that I am not afraid of you and to make a proposal for you”-the maknae said after lifting up her skirt , for you to see all her wetness. You got up your chair , not believing your eyes. “Is this really happening ?-“-you thought

“Well … you know that I hate spoiled brats, so I might have to fix you”- you said before you pushed her against the wall and inserted 2 fingers in her tight little cunt. She tried not to moan , but she couldn’t resist it. “So wet already?” You started moving your fingers and rubbing your cock against her ass, until she came all over your hands. You wasted no time and said “ Take off your clothes.”

“What if I don’t ?”

“I said , take. off. your. clothes”

“Make. Me”

You sat her in your lap and started spanking her .She suddenly turned around and started rubbing in your big hard cock. You took off your pants but instead of letting her satisfy herself , you put her on her knees and shoved your cock in her mouth , leaving tears in her eyes. You started moving and the sound of her gagging was enough fof you to cvm deep down her throat , not yet though…

You grabbed her hair and started moving faster and faster until you came all over her face.

Lastly , you violently pushed your cock on her tight little cunt and started pounding her. She was so turned on she could barely remember her name, she was close to cumming again , but you pulled off leaving her desesperate for your milk . She had a frown in her face and you said: “If you want to cum , you must ask for permission”

“Please…” she couldn’t bring herself to it, but she was so desesperate that she would even let you cum inside

“Say it with your words”

“Please master let me cum , cum inside me and make me yours , please please please !”

You started pounding her again and you came at the same time , you didn’t even bother to pull out , since you were so distracted.

You gave her one last spank , leaving her on the floor all wrecked and filled with cum.

#itzy yuna #male reader #itzy midzy

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natsukitakama · 3 years

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What kind of Yandere Floch is ?

Could I please get Yandere Floch since I’m really curious what type of yandere would he be but with a fem s/o who isn’t member of yeagarits and she’s with Hange and others instead, wanted to stop Eren. She’s also afraid of Floch since she can sense something odd about him

Hey I’m that anon who request yandere Floch with a reader who isn’t a yeagarist, well just so you know they’re not dating but perhaps they are friends and the reader is type of person who’s not ready to be in relationship even if she has a crush and Floch is aware of that. you could reply this ask at the same day when you post this request

Hey it’s me again, the same anon who request yandere Floch, there’s something I want to add more is that the reader figure it out that eren was using and manipulate Floch and the reader was telling Floch that he’s being used so really curious what would he tell her. Once again reply this ask until this request is posted which I know you’ll take long but I’m fine with it since I’m patience

Author note : Hi there, first of all thank you for being so patient with me ! I hope you’ll enjoy your request. It’s like a HS of my what kind of Yandere are they with two part : part 1 and part 2, the only difference is this headcanon got context

Before we started, let me reminds you those relationships are TOXIC please be careful. No one should treat you the way they did in this headcanon, you’re precious and deserve someone who’ll be able to take care of you properly.

Warning : violence / Mention of stress / Toxic relationship and behavior / slight nsfw / mention of violence / Spoiler from season 4/manga if you didn't catch up with the manga you might be spoil so be careful

-->if you don’t feel confortable wit those kinds of things don’t read, I want you to feel good on my blog this is a happy place.

Masterlist

We’re going to start with the basic, during a long time you guys got a hate/love relationship

None of you knew if you hate each other or if you were too into each other, like you were always teasing each other, always trying to get on the other’s nerve.

It was kinda cute until it became an obsession for Floch.

He didn’t notice it though. Not at first, he thought that he was genuinely crushing on you. I mean you were pretty hot, you got a big mouth not afraid to tell whatever you had in mind, you were even bold enough to argue with Floch with that damn smirk of yours.

Before he could acknowledge it he was already in his kneel for you (not literally not now though).

But to you, you were just friends. With your life and what was going own outside of the wall you knew it wasn’t the right time to get in a relationship, so even though you were in love with Floch you decided that it wasn’t appropriate to start dating.

But Floch disagreed with you. It was already too late, he was into you. He wanted to be by your side, he was craving for your attention whether it would be by arguing with him, fighting (not in a bad way you know just teasing each other) or even romantic attention.

He wanted to get everything that you might give him.

And he was ready to do everything in order to get what he was craving for.

At first you didn’t mind it, you didn’t even notice how bad the situation was. I mean, you were in love with him and as you got to know him you realized that he went through a lot of things. You were aware that the Shinganshima’s event left a huge mark on his soul and now he was dealing with a trauma that might stay forever.

It pained you to see him sometimes struggling with his dream because he was always dreaming about the death of his friends, the way he almost dies and for nothing. Yeah they got Shinganshima back but now they needed to be strong in order to fight the whole word outside the wall.

He needed to be strong so he wouldn’t live this again, he needed to be strong so no one would be able to touch you. He knew at this point he became addict to you and you were the only who can maintain a sort of serenity around him.

So yeah when it came to Floch you weren’t exactly unbiased, you cared a lot about him, so you couldn’t manage to just straight up and tell him to let go.

And he knows it oh boy he knows and he is not afraid to use it against you.

Especially when it was time to choose your side, would you be a yeagerist or would you stay with Hange ?

He expects you to make the right choice ( aka follows him in case you were wonderin)

But it was more complicated than that, of course you were afraid. Since you’ve realized that your nightmare started because some people outside of the wall (who used to be your boundaries) decided that you were monster who needed to be killed because some of your ancestor made war against them. You weren’t a fool, you were aware that talking won’t be enough, it’s been decades since the outside hated you, but you weren’t ready to use such a powerful and dangerous power (aka the rumbling) against people without being a hundred percent sure there weren’t a way out.

So for now you decided to follow Hange much to Floch’s dismay

Not gonna lie he was ready, I mean he knew everything about you so of course he kinda expected you to not follow him easily (where’s the fun then ?)

Even if he expected you to confront him and not follow him already, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. I mean why you wouldn’t follow him while all he was doing was fighting for a better word for both of you ? Why wouldn’t you agree with him when he was protecting his people ? Why would you disagree when he was obviously right

So yeah he felt bitterness against you, especially because since you’ve decided to join Hange’s side all you were doing was to confront him about his relationship with Eren. « He is obviously manipulating you ? » « Why are you following him ? I thought he was an ass ? » « We didn’t even try to talk to them how could you be so sure there is no other way ? »

Quickly you came to realize that you couldn’t change his mind which pains you, even though you weren’t ready to be in a relationship for now, you couldn’t help the feeling of emptiness each time you were thinking about him.

Yeah you were missing him, you missed the way you two used to tease each other, you missed his cocky smile each time he was showing off to own some of your precious praise.

But sometimes you swore this man was scaring you, the way his eyes was always on you no matter what (he could have been talking to some of his companion his eyes would remain on you)

Sometimes, you swore that he was following you even though you didn’t have any proof that he was doing it, you just felt it. He was here no matter where you were he was here looking at you from your usual spot to your training spot, you were even starting to think that he was here when you were showering or when you were sleeping.

This sensation was driving you crazy, everyone started to believe that you were a little bit paranoid (yes the man was always looking at you but he told you he was in love so it’s normal right ?)

The feeling became stronger after one of your last confrontation because his behavior (and himself) change brutally :

When you decided to follow Henge-San no matter what, you knew that it would affect your relationship with everyone especially the one you got with Floch. After all he decided to become a yeagarist and to betray everyone in order insure paradis’ safety. In his mind everything made sense, his trauma, all the things he had to go through was because of them, because some people behind the wall decided that paradis was the real danger and needed to be annihilated. What he couldn’t understand was why you hadn’t join him yet ? His goal was noble, he was doing everything to provide you safety. Why were you against him ? Why would you meddle into his plan ? At first, he thought you were playing hard just to amuse him, because you used to love teasing him and while he was enjoying a little opposition coming from you, now that he was about to betray everyone including his superior by changing them into titans he needed to have you by his side. He couldn’t wait anymore, the plan already begun so he needed to convince you to follow him.

That’s why you were here now, in jail behind the bar while Floch was looking at you a frown on his face. No, it was more than that, it was the face you made when you were about to scold your child from acting like a brat. He looked disappointed and quite angry, though you got some ideas why he might be angry you couldn’t however understand why he was so disappointed. After all, you told him that his plan was insane so why was he acting like this ? To be honest you should be the one being angry, he got the nerve to send some rookie from the survey corps find you to arrest you so they could bring you to your jail. You’ve been here since your last argument with Floch and it was like a week ago.

« You know I always knew you were a bad looser but I didn’t expect you to bring me into jail for not being cooperative. Don’t you think it’s a little bit excessive ? Like a LOT »

« Always sassy right Y/N »

« It’s not sassiness at this point it’s just being rational »

« Rational ? You are talking about being rational while being the one who claimed that my plan was full of shit ? »

« I didn’t really say that I just underlined the fact that we still got some cards to play before sending whatever Eren want to send »

« The rambling »

« Yeah whatever that’s not the point »

« It’s definitely the point »

« Absolutely not there is plenty of things to do before even consider sending them titans to kill a whole population »

« A WHOLE POPULATION ? Did you hear yourself y/n ? THEY kill us, THEY were the reason we don’t have a home anymore THEY are the reason so many people died and for what uh ? »

« Not because their government want us dead does it mean the people want our death most of them are probably innocent. There are other way Floch »

« There is no other way y/n the world has to be fix »

« Fix ? Now you are scarring me Floch »

« It doesn’t matter what you think y/n »

« May I ask you why ? »

« Because you’re not leaving this jail »

« I beg your pardon ? »

« Look, here you’re safe from both them and the yeagarist »

« I’m not afraid I’ll kick their ass »

« I won’t take the risk of losing you, so you’re going to stay here all you cute for me yeah ? I Wont be too long I need to work on a little problem then I would be back and you could yell at me as much as you want ok ? I’ll be back »

« No no no Floch look come back OI come back ! I’m not going to stay here you now I’ll find a way out »

« No you won’t nobodies know you’re here I told the yeagarist that you were dead. They won’t look for you, your friends believe you’re dead too. I’m the only person who knows where you are. But it’s okay, it was always about us right ? »

With that he just left your jail, without even a look, all he could was your scream but he didn’t care. The jail was hiding under the military court no one would even think about looking for you here. Besides the wall was thick enough so no one would hear you screaming, for now he decided that you will remain here until he was done saving paradis. But of course, he promised himself to take great care of you so don’t worry.

After this « incident » (aka his way to save you from the trouble outside according to him), his behavior change toward you. You noticed it, he became possessive and rather paranoid when it came to you.

So you might ask what kind of Yandere he is ?

Possessive : I mean he was already possessive before he became the Yandere that he now is, he just lost so many people that now he was afraid that you would be next. So yeah he always makes sure to have his hand on some part to your body mostly your hips or even better holding your hand, since you were attracted to him you let him do his things. But as he falls gradually into darkness, his touch which used to be light touch became more rough. Floch wasn’t holding you anymore he was grabbing you, as if to demonstrate to everyone that he owns you. It wasn’t a mark of affection, but a way for him to illustrate your affiliation to him (as if you were wearing a leash). Speaking of leash, he started to think about it when he notices way too many people was looking at you as if they didn’t understand that you belong to him. And when you two started to be intimate, he was more than ready to mark each inch of your body whether from his teeth, mouth or even from the way he is grabbing at your thigh. It quickly became a habit of him to ask who you belong to especially each time he was giving a rather hard slap from his hips or his hands (because if you think he wouldn’t spank you for being naughty or a brat you’re wrong he loves that) and even though at first you didn’t like the idea of moaning your belonging you quickly discover that it was better for you to just do as he said.

Paranoid : It might because of his trauma from the mission in Shinganshima or because he was more aware about the fact that everyone outside the wall want to erase paradis from the world but he was afraid to loose you. I mean since he joined the survey corps all he has do was losing someone, he lost Erwin, he lost his friends, he lost a part of his mind, he almost lost his life. There is no way he was about to lose you. So yeah as you may notice before, he started by locking you from the world in a jail under the military court after claiming to everyone who wanted to hear it that you were dead. One night he woke up after dreaming that one of the yeagarist would discover you in jail after bringing another prisoner, what if they unlock you ? So after multiple days in jail, without any light, he decided that he couldn’t let you here it was too dangerous, although he claimed to you that he did because he noticed your unhealthy body cause of the lack of light. But since he wasn’t sure if he could trust you enough, he took some handcuff with him so he could link you and him, which made him laugh cause it was as if he put a ring on you. That day he locked you into a house secluded from the world, meaning that you couldn’t reach any city without a horse, it was safe for him and for you and here he was sure no one would ever notice you.

Threatening : Of course, you wouldn’t let him do as he pleased, so some times you tried to kick his ass to steal his horse, or to climb into a tree to help you finding the closest city. You even tried to make him believe you kill yourself so he went completely crazy, screaming, crying so you could knock him you. Unfortunately it never works, and after your failed attempt to leave him he started to threaten you. At first he uses light poison, like he gave you a poison that he mixed on your meal or your drink without you noticing so you were ill during the whole day and you needed to wait like a good s/o that your lovely husband as he calls himself, so he could give you the medicine. Sometimes he even let you believe that he might give you something that will change you into titan like : Do you remember all your officer ? Yeah ? They all drink that famous spinal liquid that change everyone into titan, what if you drank it by accident mh ? Maybe when he gave you food he already mixes your drink with that poison ? Whether it was true or not no one will know, but it works you never attempt to leave him after that.

Violent : I hate to say it, but at some point when dark would entirely cover his mind, he would start being violent against you. Though he would never be something that could kill you, he wanted you to remember that you were living a peaceful live because of him, you were safe because of him. To him you got no reason of being such a brat to him, not when he was giving you everything you wanted. He took care of you, you had no right to be mad at him. So yeah sometimes he had to break your ankle, or maybe your leg so you won’t escape. Sometimes he would strangle you slightly just enough to knock you out. It barely happens because to act like this he needed to be really really angry, like loosing every common sense you know ? So it barely happens but it happens. Your body still have so marks as proof that you shouldn’t get on Floch’s nerve. Despite his physical violence, he tends to be quite violent with his word too so it wouldn’t be a surprise that you’ll break. The emotional amusement in addition with the physical violence would be enough to break anyone so you shouldn’t be ashamed. After all maybe he has been looking for this since the beginning ? Who knows ?

#Attack on titans #aot #aot floch #Shingeki no kyojin #snk #snk Floch #floch forster #Floch x reader #Floch Forster x reader #Yandere Floch x reader #attack on titans x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #Shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk Floch x reader #aot Floch x reader

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 3 years

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you got a fetish for my love, i push you out and you come right back

summary: the softest man in the world is in love

warnings: nick is a warning. how dare he. smut. smoking (but we’re trying to get him to stop). some of that daddy shit bc ugh, that beard.

word count: around 5,320

pairing: nick vaughan x reader

a/n: let me tell you, it is weird writing nick one second, the softest, sweetest man, and then switching over to ransom, aka satan.

“You shouldn’t be smoking.”

The man with his back to you turned around, arching an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

You brought your hands up to your waist, looking as confident as you could possibly make yourself look. You didn’t have a mirror on you, but you would bet it wasn’t very convincing. “Um, second-hand smoke. Third-hand smoke. Not to mention what it could do to you.”

Moving closer, he took another brief drag. “And what’s that?”

You huffed. Really? You were going to reach way back into your 8th-grade health class memories for that. “Lung disease, it can cause cancer, like, everywhere, heart disease—”

“But you’re already taking care of my heart, angel.”

You fell silent at that, frowning.

He continued to close the gap between you. “What else?”

“It’s bad for your skin,” you asserted, tone firm despite how close he was getting. “Causes wrinkles.”

“That so?”

You nodded, refusing to step back as he stopped mere inches before you. “We wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re my father.”

He smirked, dropping his cigarette on the floor and stepping on it with the toe of his boot. Boots that were far too expensive to be stepping on cigarettes with. Hell, he shouldn’t even have been outside with them. “No, we wouldn’t want that.”

Your gaze moved off to the side and finally, you stepped away to create some distance. ‘You said you were going to stop, Nick.”

“I know, I’m trying.”

“Try harder. I’m being serious, okay? People die—”

He moved back in front of you and took your chin in his hand, forcing your gaze up to his. “I’m working on it.”

“If you really care about me, you’ll stop.”

“I’m gonna stop,” he promised. “Soon. Come on, don’t give me those eyes.”

He loved your eyes. He had to have told you about a hundred times by now, claimed he liked the innocence in them that never seemed to die out. No matter how many times he took you up to his hotel room and fucked you in every filthy way he could think of. Sure, it was pretty sick sometimes, but he always touched you so softly, whispered the sweetest things to you, and held you afterward.

Your eyes could make him do just about anything, he would often declare. Except, apparently, stop smoking.

“Come on, I’m sorry.”

You crossed your arms, pulling out of his hold. “You’re only sorry you got caught.”

“No, I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“And don’t be sorry to just me, be sorry to yourself. I think you need healthy lungs for your music career, right?”

He lifted his eyebrows, still amused at how serious you were being. No one in New York took smoking seriously.

“Also, you ever stop and think about what would happen to me if you weren’t here?” That was a little on the sneaky side. You knew that there was the overall scenario of you being lonely, but he would soon start to think about how that would mean you would be with other people.

He scoffed, feigning calmness. “No, I don’t. I don’t want you to, either.”

You didn’t need to hear it, you knew he could connect the dots. “You are forcing me to.”

“Angel, what’s all this about?” he wondered. “Why are you being such a brat?”

“I’m not being a brat,” you immediately protested. Even though you knew he didn’t mind, there was just something in you that twisted at the thought of being bratty. You were not trying to be argumentative even, you were just worried.

“You want daddy to spank you?”

You looked around with wide eyes. Not that anyone in New York had the time or interest to listen to anyone else’s conversations, but still, this was private. “Nick.”

He tsked. “Nick?”

You sighed, casting a look around. “There are too many people here.”

He chuckled. “No one’s listening, angel.”

“I’m not being bratty,” you muttered. “I’m just concerned about you. Since when is that a crime?”

He smiled, reaching his hand out for you. You didn’t waste any time nearly wrapping your entire body around his arm. “What do you want?”

You were not getting away this time, he was also in a mood. Evidently, since he usually spoiled you to the point of letting you get away with “misbehaving” if you apologized or feigned discomfort.

“Take me upstairs, daddy.” It was hardly above a whisper, but it thrilled him to no end that he’d managed to get you to call him that outside of the absolute comfort of the bedroom.

Nick liked you feeling safe with him. He’d never met a more trusting soul, someone almost naive. However, it had taken him a long fucking time to get that sincere trust from you. He picked up on the body language, the things you wouldn’t say. That was why he could give the date for the night you finally let him fuck you with the lights on, the night you finally stayed with him until morning, the night you finally gave him your number because he had convinced you to sneak away from your dad to meet him at the hotel and you had to get back home but you still wanted to talk to him. He could give the date for the first morning you woke up and put on one of his shirts, the morning you let him eat you out for the first time, the morning you let him fuck you against the hotel window.

He wrapped his arms around you and started to lead you inside. It had been almost a year now and you were obsessed with Nick. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and he was kind and gentle, but also passionate and sometimes a little rough when he knew you wanted him to be. It was never mindless, hard fucking. Even when he made it hurt, he held you so close, so tight, his eyes would remain on yours the whole time. He would wipe away your tears and continue bucking his hips. He would whisper to you, coo at you, and make you fall apart until you were so exhausted you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

You were pretty sure you were in love with him. He would be the first. Sure, there was your first boyfriend who you had wanted to be your first for everything. He’d given you a promise ring and told you that he wanted to wait until you were his wife. That one didn’t end well. Your third boyfriend, you thought that one was real. You’d had sex with him, and then he completely disappeared. To this day, you had no idea where he was. But you knew now, those things you’d felt for them, they were so small, so weak. What you felt for Nick was consuming, you felt like every inch of you belonged to him, like you were made for him.

In the elevator, with an elderly couple, an older man, and a party of four younger women that looked like they were on their way to a club, Nick had his lips to your ear. “Angel, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re crying. You know I love those sounds you make and the look you give me when you just can’t take anymore. When your beautiful, little cunt is used and aching and dripping with my cum. But that’s only after I have you on the bed, wet, squirming, begging daddy to make you feel good.”

You felt like you were on fire. If anyone heard, you would be mortified, you would never be able to leave your house again. Things like this were supposed to be private, between the people who were doing it. Nick had the audacity to make some of it almost public. You would admit that there was the tiniest bit of thrill, but most of it was fear and panic.

He touched the side of your face and you startled a little, one of your hands coming up to settle over his forearm. “Jesus, you’re beautiful and so fucking…innocent.”

You were not innocent. You weren’t even sure what he meant by that. Ever. When he said it, you were confused each time.

“The thought of your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock, trying to take all you can because you’re so good to me, those eyes staring up at me…”

You swallowed thickly, eyes moving to the elevator buttons. How many more god damn floors were there? The elevator stopped again seconds later, and the elderly couple got out. Fewer people but you still didn’t feel any less nervous.

“Afterward, your sweet, tight pussy will be dripping. You know how wet you get after you suck my cock.”

Embarrassingly wet. He was fascinated the first time you’d done it, then he laid you out on the bed and when he made the discovery, he ate you out until you could barely remember what year it was.

“Then I’m gonna have you on top of me, angel. You’re so good at it, I swear you were made just to ride my cock. Remember what you were begging me for last time?”

You remembered and instantly felt your skin burning all over again.

“Maybe I’ll fuck your—”

The elevator stopped on your floor and you rushed out. The group of girls was also getting out, creating some time for you to get away from Nick and breathe. He was always intense, and he never stopped pushing you. You didn’t necessarily hate it. Really, you knew you liked it, but you could never admit that to him, his behavior would just get worse.

He found you with your back pressed against the door, waiting patiently for him. He’d been staying here for several months; he had the same room because he’d wanted to give you a key. For emergencies, he claimed. If you ever needed a place to get away, even if he wasn’t home. It had only happened a few times, he wouldn’t say a word when he would find you bundled up in his bed. He would just join you under the sheets and make you come several times, at least.

He set his hands on your hips and you looked up to him. “What’s on your mind tonight?”

You woke up that morning just knowing. You were in love with Nick and you were terrified. You didn’t want to be in love, not with him. With his music career taking off, he couldn’t want something serious. You figured this was just him wasting time. When he was an established name, he would go out and find himself a proper partner. It wasn’t you, this shy, small thing with no backbone, terrible parents, and no solid plans for your future.

But why ruin a good thing? You wanted to let it last while you could. You smiled at him and shook your head. “Nothing, really. I missed you.”

He smiled back. “I missed you, too.”

You didn’t live in New York with your father, but you had been visiting a lot more frequently. Your father was thrilled about it, thrilled enough not to want to question it. Your mother took it as an insult and didn’t ask a single question about why. It was honestly the perfect crime.

It had only been three weeks since you’d last been with Nick, you were allowing for less time to pass in between the nights you spent with him. You once went a month and a half, how unimaginable that felt—you knew you wouldn’t be able to do that anymore. You would go crazy without him being able to touch you for six weeks.

“You could stay,” he pointed out. “Here. With me.”

You scoffed. “No, I can’t.”

“You could apply to NYU, I’m sure you’ll get in. You could start building your life over here. If not with me, why not live with your dad?”

This was getting serious and you were worried this conversation would wreck everything. Nick thought he wanted something, but only because he was scared. You didn’t want to uproot your entire life for something fleeting.

“I don’t want to talk about this tonight,” you said quietly.

“Okay. But we will. Later.”

You nodded—a lie. You wouldn’t even be with him much longer. You had breakfast you’re your dad and then you would be on a flight back to your mother’s. “Yeah.”

Smiling, he asked, “Well, what do you want to talk about?”

You shrugged. “I don’t want to talk.”

He hummed. “No? You don’t have more scolding to do?”

“I can wait,” you teased. Your eyes flit to either side just to make sure no one was around. “But right now, I just want you to touch me.”

He bent down just slightly to pick you up by your thighs. You eagerly wrapped yourself around him and pressed your lips to his, kissing him like it’d been years.

He struggled to open the door, but you didn’t seem to mind that you could get caught at any moment, you seemed completely distracted by him. That was his goal, make your time here so good that eventually, you just wouldn’t be able to leave him.

Finally, he managed to get you inside the room. You had it all memorized, even with your eyes closed you knew exactly where he always was. He was leading you down the hallway, past the kitchen and the living area, to the door at the end of the walkway. Past the bathroom, past the dresser full of sheet music and records.

He laid you out on the bed delicately, pulling away so he could stare at you. You moved to pull your skirt up, but he caught your hands in his. “Not yet.”

He started at your feet. He pulled off your shoes and began kissing your calves, a touch that felt so distant through your tights.

You whined. “Daddy.”

“You’re going to be patient, angel.”

And that was that. You never argued with him, rarely disobeyed. You were perfect, you were good. You were, as he so fondly called you, an angel that did everything she was supposed to do. Not just for him, but for everyone. He knew that about you, knew that you never liked to make trouble for anyone. Even your dad, who had been almost completely absent during your childhood, off chasing his current wife. Even your mother, who was mean, unsupportive, and childish. You were sweet as could be, well-behaved, soft-spoken, bright-eyed, and glowing. He thought you were perfect.

Biting your lip, paying close attention to how much you were moving, you watched in near silence as he continued to press his lips up your legs. As soon as his eyes flickered up to yours, your heart was pounding. There was a lot about Nick that you just didn’t understand.

You could look at yourself in the mirror and understand why people thought you were pretty, but of course, you did not think as highly of yourself as Nick thought of you. Alternatively, he could not do the same. He could not understand why you liked looking at him in the mornings, why you liked to trace his features with your fingers, why you spent so much time just kissing his face whenever you got the chance. You were baffled that he could look like that and not know what he did to people.

He blushed a lot. When you accidentally told him, the first time, that you thought he was beautiful—never again would you drink wine with him—and now, all the deliberate times after that. Because unintentional or not, you meant it and you wanted him to know. When you would take him in your mouth and he had his hands at his sides, leaving you to control everything, and when you took so much of him that you would gag and choke, he was permanently flushed. When he played for you, forget it.

He was at the hemline of your skirt and started pushing it up, kissing at the insides of your thighs. You bit down harder on your lip as he continued up, up, up until he kissed your pussy. Over tights and your panties, it was still good enough that you shuddered. You could feel his beard, some random hairs managing to poke into the open spots of your tights. It was a feeling that reminded you of being home, not with either of your parents now, but when they were still together in your first home. Nick was comfort and security, he was warmth and so much raw emotion.

You brought one hand up to press your fingers to your lips. You were so wet that you could feel the material against you was damp. He always knew how to do that to you, how to get you so wanting. And the neighbors always knew when you were there, they would play music because you were so embarrassingly loud, not that he was ever considerate about that. You just wanted to pretend you had some dignity, at least for a while.

He kissed across your thigh and up the side of your hip, back across until he could kiss down the opposite side. You remembered you used to hate when he would do this, when there wasn’t a part of you that he wouldn’t at least devote a moment of attention to. You didn’t hate it now, you noticed it made you a lot more confident. You didn’t care how tight a skirt was around your hips or that a skirt was so short that everyone could see your thighs touching. It wasn’t even his goal and it wasn’t dependent on his interest in you at all, but you knew he was the cause.

You often wondered if he looked at everyone like this. It really hadn’t been long, but sometimes you swore he might feel the same about you. You’d always wrote it off as your age, but how would someone his age honestly fall in love with you? And if he wasn’t, why the hell did he look at you the way he did?

“How many lives have you ruined?”

His eyebrows rose and he pulled his mouth away from you. “I’m sorry?”

“You look at me like that, you kiss me like that—”

“Like what?”

You rolled your eyes. Honestly, you weren’t sure how to put it into words. The last thing you wanted to do was accuse him of acting or pretending. That was one of the few boundary lines with Nick that was quickly established—he didn’t like analysis of his emotions. They were his own and he didn’t want anyone to presume that they knew them better than him. You truly didn’t mind. You’d come from a toxic environment of men who would sooner die than cry and couldn’t healthily express their anger if the world depended on it. “You know like what.”

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.” He leaned back down, kissing either knee once. “But I won’t make you, I want you to want to say it.”

First time he’d ever taken that route. He teased you a lot, like challenging your views. And he liked those rare times you could challenge his. You’d both talked and talked until you managed to get to this place where you were both completely comfortable with what you were. He had to compromise on how casual this could seem at times, and you had to compromise on how obscenely intimate it was to you sometimes. And though you both compromised, it was still hard to see the other’s point of view. What was he so scared of with ‘casual’? You, on the other hand, dreaded falling for someone who couldn’t reciprocate.

He reached for your tights and slowly pulled them down. Again, he moved to where he was exposing skin and scattered kisses all over you. He deliberately got as close to your pussy as he could without ever touching you, several times, and enjoyed that you gasped and shivered each time.

He didn’t pull your underwear out of his way before he finally kissed you there. He went on like this, curious to see just how much you could take. You tried not to ask for more, to feed into his ego, and you succeeded for several minutes. You could feel his tongue and his lips, the texture of your panties was slight stimulation, but as time went on, you craved him more.

When you finally broke, your eyes were filled with tears, your hands were shaking as you reached for him, and you couldn’t form a single coherent word. Instead of pulling your panties down and eating your pussy, he moved up your body and removed your sweater and your bra. Again, he was kissing you all over, but you could hardly focus on anything other than your throbbing pussy.

“Daddy, please,” you whimpered.

He moved his mouth up until he could kiss your lips. He settled down on the bed beside you and pulled away, sitting you up a little. You took his cue and shifted up on the bed until you could rest on the headboard.

You watched as his hand reached for you, holding your breath until he was sliding one finger into you. “Fuck, daddy.” Your hips bucked almost immediately, silently begging for more. He added a second finger and you turned to hide your face against his chest.

He curled his fingers slowly, focusing on the sounds you made, the way your body would tense and shudder, and soon enough, he’d found that blissful spot that he knew made you see stars.

You clumsily reached for his pants, taking far too long to get your hands on his thick cock. You felt yourself get so much wetter, remembering just how big he felt inside you. Not that you were experienced when he’d found you, but taking his cock had been so delightfully painful and you kind of liked that he was the first man really stretching you out like that.

“Fuck,” he breathed against the side of your face. “Watch my fingers, angel, watch me fuck you with them.”

You turned down, paying attention to how they moved, and the wet sounds from your pussy. You slowly moved your hand along his cock, wanting—but too shy to ask for—him to cover your body with his cum. He preferred finishing inside you, he liked letting it drip out of you and then filling you back up all over again.

When your breaths turned shorter and your moans became louder, he knew you were so close. He moved his fingers faster, brought his thumb down to your clit. Your whole body was shaking, and he could feel how desperate you were because your hand around him tightened.

“You wanna come, angel?”

“Please, daddy,” you blurted out. “Please, please make me come.”

He pulled your hand off his cock and kissed you when you made a noise of protest. His opposite hand never even faltered as he explained, “Daddy’s coming inside you. Keep begging.”

“Please, I want to come, daddy. I want to come on your fingers, I want you to get me wet enough so my tight, little pussy can take your huge cock.”

“What a filthy mouth, angel. Where’d you learn to talk like that? Been watching the videos I’ve been sending you?”

“Yes, daddy. I watch every single one and I touch myself, thinking about how much I miss you inside me.”

“You have no idea how much I miss having your pussy wrapped around me when you’re gone.”

You finished with a sharp cry, using your free hand to try to push his touch away, but he was so much stronger than you. Add to the fact that you really didn’t want him to stop, if you could stay there in bed with him, feeling that for the rest of your life, you would.

You almost instantly rolled over on top of him, kissing him as you moved up his body until you were straddling him. He set his hands on your hips, holding you steady as you slid down on him. As you adjusted, he let his hands wander to your breasts. You were still shaking, panting, trying to come down from your high but you were addicted to pleasing Nick.

You rolled your hips, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. You needed to see him naked, coming here without seeing all of him would be an absolute waste. He helped you get the shirt off after a moment and your hands roamed all over his torso.

He took your hips again, using his hold on you to pick up the pace just a little. You let your head fall back, he would want to watch your body anyway. You brought your arms back and rested your hands on the mattress around his legs. He had to fuck you just a little harder from this angle to see your breasts move with every thrust, but you were okay with that.

You always knew when he was close because his fingers would dig into your skin and he always did everything he could to get as close to you as he possibly could. This time, he sat up and pulled you up so your chest was flush against his. You continued bouncing up and down on his cock, mewling and whimpering because you knew he loved those sounds.

“Are you close, daddy?”

“Yeah, angel, keep going just like that.”

“Tell me when you’re really close.”

He faltered for just a second, processing your odd request, but did not argue.

You set your hands to his face, dragging him in for a kiss, open-mouthed, tongues, moaning obscenely for one another. As he was distracted, you unwound his arms from your back and held them flat on the mattress by his forearms.

“I’m close,” he informed after turning his head just slightly, breathing heavily on your skin. “I’m so fucking close.”

You started moving quickly, pulling off of him and crawling back down the bed. He was stunned silent until you bent down and took his wet cock, messy from your pussy, in your mouth. You’d only just closed your lips around him when both of his hands settled on the back of your head to hold you down. He only needed to jerk his hips up a few times before he was filling your mouth.

He kept you there until his high had drifted away, and you never once complained. You swallowed the cum that you could, but some of his had slipped out of your mouth, and sucked softly until he let you up.

As soon as you were sitting up, he was wrapping his arms around you and pulling you on top of him. Still trying to catch his breath, it was clear that he wasn’t letting you go for quite some time. Because no one would expect Nick to want to cuddle after sex.

And because his brain was not functioning at its best, he was simultaneously attempting to kick off his pants and pull the sheets over the two of you. But you weren’t there to be unsupportive, you simply laid on his chest and tried not to laugh.

After he’d managed it, which had to have taken about five minutes, he turned off the lamp on the bedside table and stretched over to do the same on the other side. He once again wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. “Fuck, I love you.”

You weren’t sure how to respond, so all you did was lay there. He didn’t miss a beat, he just started running one of his hands through your hair and then nothing. Not another word.

Fuck.

You only woke up because Nick was moving around so much. As quiet as he tried to be and as softly as he tried to move out from under you, he always failed at it. When he realized he’d woken you up again, he froze.

You grabbed one of the pillows and yanked it over his face as you climbed out of bed. You didn’t want to have to get up because that meant that you would soon have to leave. You grabbed your phone out of your bag on the way to the bathroom, not bothering to get dressed. Nick loved seeing you walk around the room naked, and that was why you always ignored that nervous nagging feeling that told you to cover up.

“Sorry,” he called out.

You didn’t respond.

After you brushed your teeth, you opened the door. You heard him moving around the bedroom as you were performing your simple morning skincare routine. He always did that, just waited until you were done so he could get in. He liked making you watch in the mirror.

And right on cue, Nick entered the bathroom, stopping just inches behind you. You didn’t turn, you merely watched him in the mirror and waited. He wrapped his arms around you, and you noticed the single red rose he was holding. He started at your lips, letting the flower trail down, then over your nipples, and down just above your navel.

You shivered when he pulled it away, offering it to you. With a smile you were looking down to hide, you took the rose from him.

He kissed the side of your face, arms wrapping loosely around your waist He pressed one hand to your stomach, and you were reminded of how much you loved his stupid hands. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I’m sorry about what I said last night. I know it was…a lot.”

Yeah, it was. You’d built it up in your mind as some terrifying thing that you would never want to hear, especially from him, but when he said it, it just wasn’t like that. When he said it, it made you feel safe. It made you feel loved. “But did you mean it?”

“Only if you’re not going to run away.”

You finally looked up in the mirror, meeting his gaze. “Maybe I won’t.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“And maybe I love you back.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe,” you confirmed. “And maybe I’m even considering staying.”

He perked up at that, turning you around quickly to face him. “Tell me what I need to do or say and I will.”

You brought the rose up and set it to his lips, smirking again.

He narrowed his eyes.

All you did was shrug. “Not sure yet, but you have all day to convince me.”

“I thought you were leaving today.”

You set the rose down on the counter. “Changed my mind.”

He was beaming as he picked you up and sat you on the counter. “That means you’ve already decided to stay.”

“I never said that.”

“I’m not letting you leave. Ever.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop your smile. “I have to go home, you know…and pack.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you smiled. “Probably a good idea to let my mom meet my daddy.”

“Please don’t make those jokes in front of your parents.”

You snorted. “Oh, now you want to be a gentleman?”

“Always am, angel. Open your legs and I’ll prove it.” He spread your thighs wider as he got down to his knees. He pulled you to the edge of the counter and with his eyes on yours, he took your pussy with his mouth.

“Fuck,” you gasped. “But this means you have to stop smoking.”

He pulled back, narrowing his eyes at you. “Now, seriously?”

You buried both hands in his hair and pulled him back in.

chris tags:

@onetwo3000 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @donutloverxo @kleohoneyao3 @cevans-fics @gotnofucks

#nick vaughan x reader #my writing

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cottoncandyjester · 3 years

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Let’s talk yandere kids again, this time the most mentally disturbed

Shiro aka red

Shiro is definitely unstable..like he’s one breakdown away from going on a spree

Warning this contains: talk of blood, Hikaru going all protective dad mode(which is kinda hot)

“He’s sick..”

“His genes are ruined”

“His life will be one of many illnesses”

Every doctor said the same thing over and over, Hikaru was tired of it. He hated that word ‘sick’. Shiro wasn’t like normal kids but Hikaru pretended not to notice.

Hikaru sighs as he stepped into the office, pulling his sunglasses up seeing shiro sitting in a chair. Hikaru ignored the other parent with their traumatized child his main focus on shiro. He rushed over kneeling infront of his son cupping his cheek wiping blood off him.

“You’re a mess, what happened? Are you okay? This isn’t yours right?” Hikaru asked out softly. Shiro shook his head with a chuckle as he started to lick the blood with a low chuckling, you were better at dealing with shiro than Hikaru ever was.

“Where’s mom..is she coming or…?” The principal stated making Hikaru scoff before sitting next to shiro “my partner is the way, what exactly did my son do?” He said softly as he felt shiro leaned against him before he ran his fingers through his hair relaxing the boy.

It wasn’t long before you came bursting through the door “is shiro okay? Is he hurt?” Your worried tone made shiro perk up now rushing to you for comfort as he hugged you tightly nuzzling his blood stained face against your clothes.

“Shiro got into a fight, no big deal” Hikaru said softly. “No big deal!? Your child bit mine? What kind of feral beast are you raising? Look at my kid’s neck! They are bleeding!” The loud frantic yelling of the other parent made Hikaru sigh, shiro was a weird kid but he would never attack someone for no reason.

“And what did your kid to provoke my kid? Shiro is an eye for an eye type person, if you mess with him he’ll most likely mess with you back only ten times harder” Hikaru explained before leaning in close to the already nervous parent and child.

“So what did you do to my son?”

“My child-” Hikaru scoffs cutting them off “I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to them.” Hikaru snapped out eyes now on the shaking kid.

“W-well, he was biting his pencils and stuff and he was being really annoying..so I told him to stop.” They said softly now looking down “how?” Hikaru rebutted back tone growing colder.

“H-huh?”

“How did you tell him to stop? Did you touch him? Did you simply tell him? How did you tell him to stop” Hikaru said firmly now glancing your way as he hugged shiro close, starting to clean his face off with a loving touch.

“I-I took his mask, and threw it on the floor”

Hikaru remained silent now leaning back in his chair, sunglasses returning to his face. “So you pissed him off and is upset that he defended himself?” He said softly “and I thought I was a spoiled brat growing up” he added out before standing up.

“I don’t see any issue here, shiro did nothing wrong” Hikaru said firmly. “W-well he harmed a student severely so the punishment would be expulsion and-” the principal started out but Hikaru slammed his hands on the desk a scowl on his face.

“I could sue, at the beginning of the year I sent a very specific email about shiro and his condition. His mask isn’t to be removed or touched in any way. The fact that his teacher allowed such a thing to occur is ridiculous, my lawyers would absolutely rip you a new one” Hikaru said lowly.

“I think shiro should be moved to a different class with a more understanding teacher, yeah?” Hikaru said softly with a smile “I-I’ll get right on that” the principal said softly making Hikaru pull back as he started to walk towards you.

“Is he okay?” He asked you softly. “Just shaken up, but perfectly fine” you cooed out, making Hikaru relax as he reached down softly ruffling shiro’s hair “let’s get you cleaned up yeah? Who knows where that kid might have been, you really shouldn’t just bite people they could have germs” Hikaru scolded lightly.

As you three walked out the office, shiro twitched with joy eyes landing on a certain girl that made his heart soar “freya!” He cheered out as he rushed over hugging the girl who sat outside the office.

“A-ah! Red, stop it you’re messy” she hissed out nervously. Hikaru shuddered “h-huh they aren’t dating right? Isn’t that prince’s daughter? Y/n? They aren’t dating right?” Hikaru panicked out as he watched shiro craddle the girl close nuzzling against her like some cat.

“As far as I know they are just friends, but I think shiro has a crush” you teased, making Hikaru nearly gag “oh I can not have prince in my life anymore than mandatory, no way! Shiro come on we are going home” Hikaru hissed out.

Shiro huffed but let go now skipping over back to you and Hikaru “call me!” He cheered out as you three walked out.

Shiro was weird alright, but that just made him way more special.

#yandere imagine #yandere kids #shiro

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thelovelyghostwriter · 3 years

Text

Neon Nostrade ABC NS/FW Headcanons

Okay. I’m gonna do this for our baby girl because well, she has a different set of kinks altogether.

By the way, I will be referring to KuroNeon and KuroNeon when I’m doing this headcanon.

Rated R Warning: Lots of vulgar terms. Don't like don't read. Don't go inside a cave and complain it's dark. I will block anyone who complains.

Let’s go for the ABC Headcanons of this brat:

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

She’s two moods: either really drowsy after a good fuck or talkative. If she’s worn out good, she will be very sleepy and just want to lie on her partner’s chest.

If she still has energy left, she likes to have a pillow talk with her partner.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Girlie is proud of her curves and face. She knows she’s cute and she has the curves. She’s not afraid to dress up for her man and drive them absolutely crazy.

She likes her partner’s biceps and back. She likes to scratch and caress them when they are in a missionary position.

If she's with Kurapika and knows his Kurta identity, she worships his eyes (kinda fucked up but yes!). She likes how it turns scarlet because of his deep intense lust (and maybe hatred) while they’re having sex. She finds it alluring, like a moth to a flame. For Chrollo, it's his spider tattoo.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This girl swallows. Nuff’ said. She likes to be milked too. She's submissive and breedable.

She also likes having her partner's fingers stuffed into her mouth after they finger her. A little taste on how wet she is.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She has a bunch of lingerie shoots that doesn’t show her face. She then post it on OnlyFans to gain extra income. Just lingerie pics because she enjoys modelling for it. However, she won't show her pussy or boobs. Those are VIP access only.

She also fucks her new head bodyguard aka Kurapika and had a one time fling with Chrollo. Papa must never know this.

Good girls are just bad girls who haven't been caught.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not so much. She isn't a virgin per se (really think one of her clients or Chrollo took her virginity), but she also hasn't gotten around much due to her father having people to guard her 24/7. She usually doesn’t take the lead so most of the time she just goes with the flow.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything to do with her partner dominating her. Girlie likes to get dicked down hard. So think of missionary, doggy and all sorts of variations that goes deep.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

She is very childish and teasing alright. She's not serious about it. To her, sex is for fun. She wants to enjoy it. She giggles a lot whenever she gets a pleasant reaction from her partner.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yeah. She goes to those high-end bikini waxing services to get her pussy groomed once ever three months. She may show her lingerie to others but she only shows her lady parts to someone special and she has to make herself look presentable.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Uhhh... she is playful. She usually relies on the non-sexual dating part that her partner does for the romance.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This girl likes to read smuts or listen to audios to get herself wet. If she really wants to get down on it, she uses a good ol' vibrator to buzz herself. She has to do it in a room though, where no one is around.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

*clears throat* This girl makes the best porn to write LMAO. I can think of a few kinks when it comes to her (and her r/s with Chrollo or Kurapika).

With Kurapika:

Discipline and Bondage: Her bratty attitude pisses off his stern no-bullshit personality. Sometimes she does it on purpose to egg him to punish and fuck her. She secretly enjoys it when he spanks her, be it using his hand or his belt. She realises that he might be into bondage based on the chains on his hand so she suggested tying her up. They used ropes, clothes, handcuffs and of course (actual, not his Nen) chains. He sometimes chains her up Shibari style and likes to see her pussy drool over the chains. This starts whenever she acts up, throws a tantrum and Kurapika has to deal with her bs. It's not easy disciplining this naughty brat but he likes the challenge until she's an obedient brat begging to be his cumslut. When she's being a good girl, he'll reward her with a good fucking and another present (e.g. jewellery or handbag or whatever she wants).

Degrading and Humiliation: This comes with the disciplining part. Whenever he disciplines her, it comes with degrading her. Neon loves to be called all sorts of degrading terms: slut, whore, brat. He's usually very uptight so it turns her on when he gets vulgar during sex. It gets even more intense when it's hate-fucking. He's supposed to dislike flesh collectors but here he is enjoying the flesh of a pretty collector, and so they engage in hate-sex filled with degrading her and Neon loves every filthy second of it.

Breeding: Yes, I know I said Kurapika ain't gonna want kids, based on my analysis of him and it makes sense. Only after he accidentally knocks her up, then he'll realise "hey, this ain't bad". So when Kurapika realises that perhaps repopulating the clan isn't that bad, Neon is more than happy to produce kids with him and be the freakin Kurta baby factory. The whole baby-making process is fun, they will make sure they won't waste a single cum drop. Neon also loves to address Kurapika as "Daddy" because she knows it makes him feel powerful and it represents fathering her children. Sorry Light Nostrade, Neon has another daddy now.

With Chrollo:

DD/LG: Their age gap and height difference screams sugar dating. He loves to indulge in her materialism and spoils her like a brat she is (he just steals those items and gives it to her). Chrollo is one freaky mf who calls her princess, kitten, baby girl and all sorts of really cute nicknames. Chrollo isn't like Kurapika who would degrade her. He likes to praise his little sex bunny because positive reinforcement works. He wants her to dress up in all those frizzy lingerie costumes and roleplay in DD/LG.

Toys: [See the T for Toys for this one]

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

One word: power.

That is in the form of money and dominance in her partner. She loves it when they give her what she wants materially, be it that nice taxidermy butterfly necklace or that designer brand clothes and accessories. She doesn't care how you get it, but if you give it to her, she's sure to reward you.

Another thing that for sure turns them on is being dominated. Be it with Kurapika, Chrollo or anyone else, Neon loves to be dominated and fucked. Hold her by the neck. Let her know who is in charge. Make her beg to be fucked. A little possessive dirty talk will get her wet. Anything to do with establishing ownership of her.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Neon likes having sex in the bedroom or in the guy's office. She likes to disturb her partner while he's working so they end up doing it in the office. Or some luxurious hotel. A bathtub will be good too.

There's a very specific location I want to write her having sex with Kurapika. A location so messed up yet so angsty but I will keep quiet about it for now. You would need to be one creative sicko like me to guess this one. Heh. 😶😶

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

A big no is her being 100% dom. Neon is kinda lazy in that aspect. She doesn't like to do all the work and wants the pleasure/pain handed to her. At most, she'll ride the guy while she's on top but she's going to be a real tease about it, hoping that they would get impatient and flip her over. When they do, she'll be more excited because that's what baby girl wants.

Stuff like pee or anything to do with that is something that she'll never do.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

She likes to have her pussy eaten out of course. And how they make her come through oral sex. However, she prefers to give SLIGHTLY more. Just slightly. She likes to get her hair grabbed and face-fucked. Sometimes she engages in cock worship.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually, she says things like "fuck me harder", "don't stop" etc. to encourage getting fucked at a faster and rougher pace. Especially when they hit her G-spot. That sends her crazy. She does appreciate the slow and sensual but only at the beginning or near the end. Depending on the context of the sex session.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yeah. She likes quickies. This has something to do with disturbing and teasing her partner while he's at work. Yes, I'm talking about Kurapika. So a little quickie just for him to relax and catch a break is Neon's favour for him for working so hard.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes. She's game on taking risks. She's actually the one who will initiate and explore with kinks she finds on the net. Heck, she once proposed getting fucked against the window and in the balcony, risking the fact that someone might see them (Papa absolutely must never know what his daughter has been doing). The fear and thrill of getting caught arouses her.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I think at most two rounds. The sex can be really intense and this girl lacks stamina. She didn't go through formal Nen training (remember that she got hers without training), and her partners are Nen users and physically fit so they wear her out.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

She owns them alright. She uses a vibe to pleasure herself. It comes in handy when she gets horny during ovulation and there's no one to dick her down.

As for using them with a partner, she uses a lot of toys with Chrollo. Whether it's the anal beads when Chrollo wants to get her ass fucked while he rams the front or making her wear vibrating panties in public, she's sure down for it. She also will wear a tail butt plug to complement her kitty outfit that Chrollo instructed her to wear. She'd gladly follow whatever freaky fantasy he wants.

With Kurapika, they don't use toys except for bondage items. If Neon were to sleep with a woman, she'll prefer to get fucked with a strap on.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Neon is the queen of teases. Especially if her lover seems uptight. (Yes, Pika boy, that's you).

She'll randomly sends him nudes while he's working. She'll touch his lap/balls lightly when they're eating side by side. She'll say stuff that sounds suggestive in inappropriate timings. She'll wink. She'll roll her tongue while eating and making eye contact. Just to initiate sex.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Neon has a high-pitched voice. She's very vocal during sex. She can't help it. Honestly, she sounds like those girls in hentai porn but more genuine lmaoo. She'll moan, squeal, whine, squeak and pant with the occasional "yes", "fuck me", "harder" and all the short needy dirty talk to push them to do her rougher.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

She likes to shop for her outfits. It excites her thinking what type of kinky outfit she should buy to make her partner horny. Be it another lacy lingerie, bunny outfit, kitty outfit, she'll be sure to look delectable in her man's eyes.

She looks REAL good in pink or white. Most of her outfits are in that colour. 💖💖

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Neon has a B cup. She doesn't have those giant breasticles like Pakunoda or Shizuku. But that's understandable. I once estimated her height based on Chrollo's height and the manga panel where her head is at his shoulder. She's about 150cm, maybe even shorter. She's a petite girl. She has curves in proportion (she's not a loli, she's just small in height). But that's her charm. She's cute. Easily carried to be fucked.

Side note: The height difference between her and Kurapika (171cm)/Chrollo (177cm) is so good in this aspect (if you guys know what I mean) hehehe kekekek.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Hmm... I think Neon is mid. She does likes sex but she isn't a sex addict. She gets in the mood easily, especially when she's horny during ovulation. She won't be in the mood when she's angry or upset at not getting what she wants.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

She's exhausted after it happens. Definitely be sleeping like a baby. She'll lay on her partner's chest and doze off comfortably. If she still has the energy, she'll demand for round two or just pillow talk. Chatter her way until she falls asleep.

To end it off, I would like to give you guys some links to fanart where Neon is being hot, art by @anotherworldash :

Cat Outfit

Cat Outfit with Buttplug

Bunny Outfit Regina George reference

Neon in Shibari ropes

Chrollo and Neon

Kurapika and Neon

Neon sucking Kurapika off [Yes, you read this right]

Neon in pink lingerie

#neon nostrade #kuroneo #kuraneo #kuroneon

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avintagekiss24 · 4 years

Text

The Mansion Maid > Ransom Drysdale

PAIRING; Ransom Drysdale x black!reader

WORD COUNT; 3,503

WARNINGS; dub-con, mutual masturbation, hand job, vaginal fingering, Ransom being an asshole, swearing

REQUEST; Meg’s best friend from college needs a job, so she ends up being one of Harlan’s new maids and Ransom takes an interest in her. Face claim Kat Graham.

NOTE; Please heed the warnings, guys. You are responsible for what you consume. I’ve done my part, please do yours. Ransom is a douche in this one, but, what else is new! Hope you enjoy :)

“Meg, seriously, thank you so much.” You say as you hug her tightly, “This means so much.”

She scoffs, “Don’t worry about it. Granddad has always loved having pretty, young girls around the house. He’s the one that should be thanking me.” She laughs.

You smile and stare up at the old, beautiful mansion sprawled out before you. You blink slowly as Meg pulls your bags from the car, chatting all the while, but you don’t really hear anything she says. You’ve never seen a house like this - in the movies, yeah - but never in real life. You couldn’t even really quantify just how rich Meg’s family was until this moment as you stand in the driveway. The Thrombey family is filthy, stinkin’ rich.

“Uh, hello? You still with me?” Meg laughs as she slams the door to her Audi.

You cover your face with your hands, giggling a little as you shake your head, “Sorry. I’m nervous.”

She loops her arm within yours and pulls you into her side, “Don’t be. We don’t bite, promise.”

She starts to pull you towards the front door, passing by an older model BMW. You scrunch your face a little as you pass by it, the age of it taking you by surprise. It looks to be in good shape - sparkling a little in the sunlight - not that you know anything about cars to be honest. Maybe it’s the old mans’, you think to yourself as you take the two steps onto the porch before following Meg into the lavish home.

“Granddad! Marta! We’re here!”

“Will you keep your voice down? Jesus.” A deep voice sounds from the study to your left, causing you both to snap your heads towards it.

Meg scoffs loudly, rolling her eyes as a tall, dark haired man emerges from the room. Your lips part a little as he moves right up to the two of you, completely invading your personal space. You glance up at him as he towers over you but immediately avert your eyes when you find his intense gaze already on you. You swallow harder than usual, shrinking into yourself a bit, as you feel his eyes roam up and down your body.

“Fuck off Ransom. Where’s granddad?”

He shrugs, backing up to lean against the door frame. You glance back up at him just as he pops a small, round cookie into his mouth and chews it slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

He nods in your direction before skipping his eyes over to Meg’s quickly, “Who’s this?”

“None of your business. Where are Marta and granddad?” She asks again, more stern this time.

“Did you not see me shrug? I don’t fuckin’ know, he’s out with the help I’m sure.”

“Her name is Marta, you prick.” Meg rolls her eyes again and grabs you by the arm, pulling you up the stairs, “You’re such an asshole.”

“I asked you a question, Megan. I expect an answer.”

You stop at the sound of his voice. You watch as Megan turns slightly and leans against the banister.

“And I answered you, dickwad.” He continues to stare at her, popping another cookie into his mouth. She relents, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “This is my friend from school. She’s gonna be helping around here for the summer for some cash. I didn’t know I had to get your approval as well, you know, since you don’t live here.”

He chuckles as he chews and slides his eyes over to you once again. You swallow hard as he looks you over slowly, taking his time with taking you in, “More help, huh? You speak English?”

Meg groans loudly, grabbing your arm again, “Don’t pay him any mind. Come on.”

Ransom. You jog up the stairs behind Meg, turning slightly to glance at him over your shoulder. He stares at you as you move, smirking slightly as he pops yet another cookie into his mouth. He lifts his hand and wiggles his fingers at you before pushing away from the door frame to disappear back into the study.

You follow Meg into her room and close the door behind you before plopping down on the bed beside her, “Who was that?”

She rolls her eyes deeply again, waving you off, “Don’t worry about it, he’s a fucking tool.”

“Who is it? Your brother or?”

“Oh, God no. He’s my cousin. My aunt Linda’s son.”

“Oh,” you answer, not able to get those blue eyes out of your mind, “What um, what does he do?”

She laughs a little as she stands and starts unpacking her bag, “You mean besides being the resident asshole? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. He’s a spoiled ass brat, who lives off my aunt Linda and granddad.”

You nod slowly, “So, he lives here, then?” You swallow again, not really sure if you could deal with this feeling all day, every day for three and a half months.

Meg picks up on your uneasiness and stops moving around the room. She walks over to you and takes your hand in hers, a bright smile on her face, “Do not let him scare you off. He lives like a half hour away. He comes over long enough to beg for money and then he fucks off again.”

You let out a breath and smile back at her, “Okay. Sorry, he’s just kinda… I don’t know.”

She kisses your cheek and goes back to her dresser, “For the third time, he’s an asshole. Don’t let him intimidate you, okay? You just wait until you meet granddad. He’s going to love you and between him and I, we won’t let Ransom pick on you.”

You nod your head quickly as you tuck some hair behind your ear. You take another breath and push it out quickly before you flash another wide smile, “Cool.”

--------

A few weeks have passed and they’ve been a blur, but you’re settling in quite nicely. Harlan is a delightful old man; funny and smart - and still as sharp as a tack. Marta and Fran are both kind and warm, taking you under their collective wing and showing you the ropes of the routines that flow through the mansion. You’ve met most of the family by now, each one just as opposite as the other, leaving you to wonder how they’ve all existed this long without killing each other. You like them all though, each for a different reason, except for Adolf Jr. aka Jacob, who’s questioned your citizenship more than once because “you look too exotic to be American”, and of course -

“Ransom,” You sigh loudly as he shoulder checks you in the hallway, knocking you back a few steps, “Jesus.”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” He says, cutting his eyes back towards you, “You call me Hugh. Only my family calls me Ransom.”

You flip him off and roll your eyes as you continue down the hallway in the opposite direction, mumbling a fuck you under your breath. You head up the stairs with a pile of sheets and an assortment of cleaning supplies in your hands and move into the Harlan’s bedroom. You toss the supplies on the bed, before retreating to the hallway closet to fetch some fresh towels. You move back into the room and shut the door behind you before shoving your airpods into your ears, letting Doja Cat distract you as you start to strip the bed.

You hum as you move around the large mattress, tossing the used sheets to the floor as you sway to and fro to Say So.Your thoughts soon turn back to the brief encounter you had with Hugh just minutes before. Prick. He’s gone out of his way to make you down right uncomfortable since the moment you stepped foot in the house.

He stops by just to fuck with you it seems. He’ll suck down those disgusting cookies and throw the empty bag to the floor, because he knows you have to pick it up. He’ll knock magazines off the coffee table, track mud through the kitchen, leave random plates and drinking glasses all over the house - only to lean against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, with that stupid smirk on his face as you pick up after him.

That’s another thing he likes to do - watch you. You feel his slimy gaze on you for hours out of each day, just following you around as you move throughout the house. At first it bothered you, but now? You just glare back at him and scrunch your face in disgust before you carry on with your work. Harlan, and recently Walt, have chewed his ass a few times for messing with you. You’re not intimidated anymore, you’ve got back up.

His gaze has seemed to change over the past few days though. It’s less I’m watching you to make sure you don’t steal anything, to I’m watching you just to watch you - like you’re his prey. You’ve caught him staring at your legs on the days you’ve opted to wear shorts. You narrow your eyes at him as he ogles you, but he doesn’t care. He just keeps right on staring at your long limbs, his breaths deep and steady, sometimes dragging his tongue across his bottom lip or even sinking his teeth into it.

The family has a weekly Sunday dinner, which you’ve been happily invited to each time. It’s a chance for you to wind down, actually be a person around them and not just another one of the staff. At the last one, just a few nights ago, you were exhausted. Meg had you out on the town until after dawn before letting you have only a few hours of sleep before she pulled you off to another adventure. For dinner, you slipped into a tank top, a loose, thin zip up hoodie, and pajama shorts. Your hair was loose, falling into your face as Richard went on and on about politics. Your hoodie kept slipping off of your shoulder, exposing your skin and cleavage.

You shifted in your seat, swiping at the hair in your face before you randomly threw your eyes at Ransom quickly. You had to do a double take. You squinted at him in disgust as you caught his wandering gaze on your chest, like he was transfixed - hypnotized by the slit of your breasts. He cut his eyes up to yours seconds later and cocked his head in defiance as the two of you stared at each other. You lifted your hand and extended your middle finger again, drawing a quick, low chuckle out of him before he dipped his eyes back to your cleavage. You rolled your eyes and zipped your hoodie all the way up before letting out a huff and focusing back on Richard.

You had trouble sleeping that night. There was a battle brewing inside of you. You couldn’t stand him, but something in you, dare you say, liked having his attention. Whenever you caught his eyes on you, you’d get all warm - tingly. Sure, you’d flip him off and rush off in a huff but sooner or later, a sly smile would spread on your lips. You liked teasing this disgusting man. It felt… good - but of course, that is what bothered you. You shouldn’t be flustered or flattered by his behavior, you should be outraged, but yet you never say a word to anyone.

A piece of you likes the fact that you are the one thing that he can’t buy and maybe, that’s why you enjoy this little game so much. He’s a bastard, but he’s a rich bastard who can have whatever his selfish ass wants - except for you. That’s your little contribution to the working class people, denying a rich asshole an unearned pleasure.

You finish making the bed and move into the bathroom where you squirt a healthy amount of Windex onto the large mirror. You wipe it away and move to the sink and counter, then the shower, and finally the toilet. You flush it once you’re finished and stand, wiping your forehead with the back of your gloved hand. You let out a breath and turn to exit, but scream when you’re surprised by someone in the doorway.

“Fuck, Ransom!” You scream as you clutch your chest, slamming your eyes shut.

He laughs before tilting his head, “Hugh.”

“Fuck you.” You bite back at him, pulling the gloves off your hands and tossing them into the trash before you push past him aggressively.

You grab the pile of dirty sheets from the floor and turn to leave the room when he stops you, grabbing you by your arm. You shrug out of his grasp roughly as your eyes bounce back and forth wildly between his.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks calmly.

You rip your airpods out of our ears and shove them into your pocket, “I’m working, okay? I don’t have time for this.”

He chuckles again as his eyes wander around your face and then dip down to your chest, “You’re a little fuckin’ cock tease, aren’t you?”

You scoff and try to move around him but he grabs your arm again and whips you around his body, “What the fuck is your problem? Huh?” You shout, dropping the sheets back to the floor, “Why do you have to fuck with me all the time?”

He shrugs, “I don’t have a problem.”

“Then why won’t you leave me alone?” You ask angrily, your eyes squinted as your chest starts to heave, “I don’t bother you one bit.”

“Oh, you bother me,” He starts slowly, “Like I said, you’re a cock tease baby.”

He takes a step towards you, and then another until he’s towering over you. You stare up at him, your chest bumping into his as you breathe deeply. You keep your jaw tight as he lifts his finger and drops it on your chin. You swallow hard as he starts to drag it down your neck and to your chest. Your lips part as you stare up at him. You blink furiously as his finger slips down to your breasts.

You snap to your senses within seconds and slap his hand away, but his quick reflexes have you caught in his arms before you know it. You squirm in his grasp, desperately trying to free yourself but with each pull and tug, he seems to grasp you tighter and tighter. You push on his chest with your small hands as you plead for him to let you go. He drops a hand to your jeans and pulls at the button to pop it open. He unzips them quickly and before you can stop him, he shoves his hand into your panties.

You tense as you feel the flesh of his fingers against the flesh of your sex. Your eyes go wide as you ball his tattered, white sweater in your hands as his fingers push through your folds to tease your slit. You watch him as he watches you, his eyes searching yours as his lips part. He smirks at you after a moment or two passes, and then chuckles again.

“Fighting turns you on?” He asks softly, noting the wetness that covers his fingers, “Me too baby girl.”

You grab his wrist with both of your hands and pull his hand from your body but your strength is no match for his. He shoves his large hand back into the front of your jeans, his fingers pushing through your lips, circling your clit before pressing against it. You tense at the pressure. Your eyes flutter as a flash of arousal ripples through you. You tighten your grip on his sweater as your heart beats against your chest.

He rubs your clit in slow circles at first, but then quickens them out of nowhere. It starts to feel good - it’s been too long since you’ve been touched like this. You widen your stance, allowing him a little more access to your cunt. Your hips start to roll against his fingers as your throat goes dry. You bite down into your bottom lip as you pump your hips forward, small moans and whimpers falling from your lips. You feel his eyes on you as he fingers you - feel his warm breath on your face.

You gasp suddenly as he thrusts two fingers into your cunt without so much of a warning. You wrap your fingers around his biceps, squeezing them tightly as he starts to pump his digits in and out of you. Your moans grow louder as he gets rougher, slamming his fingers into you with force as his palm caresses your swollen, tingly clit.

“Fuck, Ransom,” you hiss as you rock your hips into his palm.

“Hugh,” he says gruffly.

“Hugh,” you breathe, your voice shaking with each thrust of his fingers, “Hugh, Hugh, Hugh.” You repeat in ecstasy.

“That’s right baby,” he groans, grabbing a handful of your left breast with his free hand, “Say my name girl.”

You throw your head back as you continue to push your hips forward, “Oh, Hugh. Yes.”

You let your head roll forward again as you drop your hands to his pants. You fumble with the button, and then the zipper, but soon push your hands into the front of his boxers to grab his cock. He hisses at the contact and the warmth of your hands, and his fingers falter for just a second. You start to stroke him, teasing his slick slit with the tips of your fingers before you slide them back down his shaft.

You stand mere inches from each other, fucking one another with your hands while Harlan and Marta are just a few rooms away. You can feel your climax building as Hugh pushes his free hand up into your shirt. He pulls your breast free of your bra and starts to play with your nipple, rolling it between his fingers before he pulls and tweaks it, arousing you further.

You pump him hard and fast, feeling the warm dribbles of precum on your fingers. Your hips thrash against his hand, desperate for a release. Shivers begin to run up and down your spine as your body begins to jerk and tense. The small grunts and moans from Ransom only add to your arousal and soon, you are overcome with your orgasm.

Ransom has to clasp his hand over your mouth as you cum around his fingers. You shriek into his palm as the waves of your climax wash over you, each crash stronger than the last. You bite down on the palm over your mouth as your hips continue to work against his other hand and fingers.

Ransom soon follows at the sight of you cumming before him. You feel the warmth of his spunk in your hand and on your fingers as he spurts over and over again. You hum as you continue to work your hand up and down his throbbing, jumping shaft. In an act of quick weakness, he rests his forehead to yours as his body works through his own release. The two of you stand there, chests heaving, breaths heavy as you recover from your devious deed.

He pulls his hand out of your pants, leaving you empty and slightly sore. You remove your hands from his cock and take a step back. You watch as he lifts his pruney fingers to his mouth before he licks them clean, humming lightly as your tangy juices excite his taste buds.

“That cunt might be my new favorite snack.” He offers, before sucking on his digits again. You watch as he moves away from you and heads for the door, “Clean yourself up and get back to work, maid.” He says gruffly again, cutting his eyes back at you.

“Yes Hugh.” You say sweetly, offering a small smile.

He rewards you with a smile of his own, “Good girl.” He opens the door and takes a step before turning back to you again, “You’re here until when again?”

“End of August.”

He raises his eyebrows as his lips quirk into a smirk, “Lovely. I’ll be back for you.”

“Will you now?” You ask seductively, tilting your head.

He smiles again, “You’re mine now. I take what’s mine.

He slams the door behind him.

You move into the bathroom and wash your hands slowly, unable to wipe the stupid smile off of your face. You redo your short ponytail and wipe at your forehead with your wet finger tips, ridding your skin of the small beads of sweat. You button and zip your jeans before smoothing your hands down the front of your shirt. You shove your airpods back into your ears as Saweetie fills your head. You move back into the room and collect the dirty sheets in your hands again before getting back to work.

This job ain’t so bad.

#Ransom Drysdale #Ransom Thrombey #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x black!reader #ransom thrombey x black!reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom thrombey smut #knives out fanfic #knives out reader #knives out smut #ransom x you #you x ransom #you x ransom drysdale #you x ransom thrombey #ransom drysdale x you #ransom thrombey x you #knives out #knives out x reader #avintagekiss24

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vanchlo · 4 years

Text

The Firsts / #1 “The First Time Meeting The Family”

ABOUT: A blurb series retelling the important firsts in the first year or so in Becks and Harry’s relationship, covering the gap between the end of The Assistant, and the beginning of its sequel, The Partner.

---> NEXT BLURB: I hope that I can put it out on October 4th, following the every other week rule, but I’m not sure with my busy schedule. Keep an eye out for updates on the series masterlist!

READ THE ASSISTANT, AKA WHAT CAME FIRST

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

READ ON WATTPAD

LEGEND:

+ : a break in the story; a time jump.

italics : a flashback in the story.

++ : a point of view change in the story.

WARNINGS: Some mild language, and a small incidence of physical assault

WORD COUNT: 10.9k words (!!!)

SONG: A Love Like This by Ben Rector (CLICK TO LISTEN AND I KNOW I USE TOO MANY OF HIS SONGS BUT THEYRE SOOO ROMANTIC)

* SNEAK PEEK, DUH BC ALWAYS *

“Always, baby - protect you, save you- you name it and ‘ll be there,” Harry coos with the softest of smiles, tracing with his thumb the new red lines that litter my face in places. “Always,” he whispers, leaning forward to kiss the place under my eye where my birthmark sits, and beside it a new scar that he’s kissed more times than I could count.

I could never keep track of how many times I’ve looked at him and silently said those three words that once itched to jump off of my tongue and into his ears. The very three that sit in his eyes, just for me.

“No matter how much it hurts, no matter how hard it gets, you gotta keep grinding. And that’s how we’re gonna win. We’re gonna win and anyone that gets in our way? Well, God help them.” - Dean Winchester, Supernatural

The phone rang with a shrill bringggggg!, yanking a sigh from my lips.

Another one.

Another sigh.

Another call.

It’s just another normal day for me.

After sliding back on the mask that I so often wear within these walls, I at last leave my office and the phone that tends to keep ringing off the hook. Ignoring it and letting the answering machine take it this time, my heels click-clack on the dark tiled floor, a sound I had long ago become accustomed to.

Yet another sound is that of the hot coffee churning into my mug from the Keurig in the break room, and the splash of the creamer I pour in next.

A sound that I don’t think I could ever get used to, nor would I want to become mundane, is that of the breathy giggle trickling out from my open office when I return. He doesn’t see me yet, but I see him as I take a page from his book and lean in the doorway to watch him. Steam wafts across my smiling lips before the coffee meets them, my eyes fixed on the back of his tousled curls.

“It’s about time your meeting finished,” I announce, returning to my stride as I close the door. Setting down the hot mug on the corner of my desk, I tread over to my chair and let my arms wind around his neck from behind.

“Yer tellin’ me,” he nearly scoffs, switching apps on his phone quickly.

“What are you being secretive about, hmm, Harry?” I tease with a peck to his satiny smooth cheek.

“Oh, nuthin’, I jus’ wanted t’ check tha weather. Reckon we’re in fer some sun this weekend, yet anotha thing that’s overdue. We should go on a hike or sumthin’ Sunday, but we might need our Wellies.”

“You say that I’m a bad liar, but you should know that so are you,” I huff against his cheek, catching a whiff of his aftershave’s notes of cucumber and aloe vera.

“I dunno what yer talkin’ ‘bout, Becks,” he insists with a measly shrug of his shoulders, but he tries to act like I can’t hear the slight snicker in his voice, or see the red appearing in his cheeks.

“Fine, I give up . . We should get cracking on those testimonies already, seeing as now I’m done waiting on you.”

“Agreed. ‘m gonna go grab a cuppa, and ‘ll meet you in me office. ‘Kay?” Harry responds, standing to his feet, and turning around to face me. The smile falling into my cheeks is instantaneous at the mere sight of him, making me realize that I somehow missed him for the last three hours he was in his meeting. Well, I wouldn’t be wrong to say that I’m most definitely spoiled getting to work with my boyfriend for nearly every second for five days a week. My dream at last came true. “Wait, I thought you were gettin’ sick o’ me earlier? ‘sn’t that right, bug?” he poses with a perfect raise of his eyebrows, taking a step towards me.

“I uh, dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Yer a bloody terrible liar, still dunno why ya think I can’t sniff ‘em out on you,” he smirks, clicking his tongue in disappointment as he taps my nose. The tall white roses on his baby pink slacks billow with every step of his, only worsening my giggle. “Becks, Becks, Becks,” he tuts with a shake of his growing curls. My lips sparking with a happy nervousness bring out the dimples in his cheeks.

“What, Harold?”

“Dunno how many times ‘ve told ya not t’ call me that,” he exhales with a wag of his finger, only a few steps between myself and the door now.

“But Rory gets to call you that!”

“He doesn’t get t’ call me anythin’, bug. Rory doesn’t listen t’ a fookin’ word I say, so he’s not goin’ t’ start callin’ me by me real name fer tha first time in eight years, I don’t think,” he chuckles, and I let an eye roll slip, but not quick enough. “Ya betta watch it now, and my bloody God, Rebecca Holte, you best put that pout away befo’ I-.”

“Before you what, Harry?” I tease with a cock of my head.

“Y’know yer pushin’ me buttons, right? Oh wait, yer fully aware o’ that, arentcha, Becks? I can see tha look on yer face right now, y’know yer diggin’ yerself a hole here, babe,” Harry tuts, continuing to wag that finger at me until my back meets the door and he lays his hands above my head to steady himself. “And, t’ answer yer question - reckon ya won’t get any kisses fer tha rest o’ tha day if yer gonna be a brat,” he shrugs with full composure, sliding a hand to my back that he presses on to come closer to him. “Make this one last,” he whispers, leaving a kiss on my forehead before opening the door.

“Harry!” I exclaim, whirling around to find him already escaping down the hallway.

His hearty laugh wanders down to grace my ears, and then, he turns around with that smart grin on his face, “‘m jus’ grabbin’ a new cup o’ coffee, ‘ll meet you in me office, love,” he calls back ever so innocently, almost running into one of Asher’s blokes from IT. Groaning, I imitate his typical stance of leaning against the doorway with crossed arms, watching his figure become all the smaller as he stops to talk with Amelia and then to Jennings with an always cheerful smile.

At times, it still boggles me how different things are, although it’s difficult to remember how things were before. How they were when my view every day was this very hallway from my measly desk sat at the end of it. It makes it all the harder to remember how much I longed for, how it tore me apart, and not just that, but how different of a person he was. I wasn’t the same either - I started off cold and brash with him, as did he, and I could never entertain the thought of what things would be like if he hadn’t warmed up to me, as well.

Memories flash in front of me as the sofa molds to my body, like all of the other times, followed by the thud of my heels falling to the floor. With a blink, I’m propelled back to the days when I’d be scared to set foot in this office, his. Now, I can’t imagine feeling anything other than safe to be in here. Despite the traumas that took place inside of these four walls, my lips curl up at the thought of the lovely things that were born in here as well. The hidden kisses. The beginning of our friendship. Our first hug. My beginnings as a lawyer, and so much more that warms me from the inside.

My, all of the firsts that we have had.

Pulling my cardigan around me tighter, I round a corner and then another, hoping I’m at least going in the right direction. The images keep flashing before my eyes - the silence that fell over the room when he entered it, a completely different person than the one that I know. A pride that I want to deny and forget still clings to my body and every thought that I have. So often, I find myself hating him, and yet I couldn’t have been more proud sitting in that room and watching him do what he does best, argue.

Coming to a halt, I look around for a sign to tell me where I’m going, in the hopes that the front doors are somewhere near. Shaking my head, I take another left on a whim, and regret it within a matter of moments.

“Holte?” comes a voice from ahead of me. Glancing up, I freeze in my place before my feet try to scurry away. “What tha bloody hell are you doin’ here, and where are you goin’ so fast?” they say, almost making a sound. A laugh, perhaps?

“I was just uh, meeting a friend.”

“Since when do friends meet at a courthouse?” he asks with skewed eyebrows, his steps ending in front of me. His hand full of rings cards through his long curls, and my, they only look better up close.

“My friend . . works here.”

“Oh ‘s that so? What department do they work in?” he continues, the dimples slowly finding their place in his cheeks, especially as the words fleet me. “Yer lyin’ t’ me arentcha, Holte?”

“Fine, I wanted to come and watch you argue your case, since you were making a big deal out of how important it is,” I sigh, turning around and placing my back to him.

“Hey, you. Wait!” he calls, and I soon feel his rings against the flesh of my bicep. “What’s tha rush?” he titters, and when I turn around, this all only gets all the more weird.

“What, is it a crime to come and watch you in action?”

“No, so why’re you actin’ like yer doin’ sumthin’ yer not s’posed t’ do?” he smirks. “Huh, Holte?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Styles,” I sigh, wishing I could sneak a look at his fingers gentle around my arm to prove that it’s real, but . . that would give it away and perhaps make him stop. That’s the last thing I want, even though two seconds ago, I thought that running into him here was the last thing I wanted. Now, I’m not so sure. I should have known that this would happen, though. “You were great, you know,” I say slowly, a smile mirrored on his reddening face.

“Thank you,” he responds quietly, looking away and regrettably, letting his hand fall from my arm. “I didn’t know you were there . . watchin’ me.”

“I wasn’t planning on it . . but I’m glad that I came and spent my lunch break watching you.”

“Me too,” he replies softly, his bottom lip escaping to between his teeth.

“Well, good luck and I’ll see you at work, I guess.”

“Ya, you too, Holte. Thanks,” Harry says, and I find it painful to walk away from him now, and awkward. Sighing, I find a hallway in each direction when I reach the corner, and take one at random.

“Tha main entrance ‘s tha other direction, Holte,” Harry giggles, and I stop in my tracks, hearing his familiar Saint Laurent boots click-clack on the tiled floor. “Here, I was jus’ goin’ t’ lunch, I can show you tha way.”

“No, I’m okay.”

“No, please. Let me,” he insists, and when I steal a glance at him he’s pushing back the dark sleeve of his smooth black blazer to look at his watch. I’m left wondering which was more expensive, the suit or the watch. “I was jus’ poppin’ ova t’ a restaurant down tha street fer lunch, if ya’d like t’ join me, yer welcome t’.”

Gulping, I quickly look away and to the ground where he can’t see my eyes threaten to pop out of my skull. Did he really just ask me to get lunch with him? What should I say? Wouldn’t it be awkward? What would we even talk about? I should say no, he’s probably just being nice.

“I um . . “

“‘ll take that as a yes then,” he pipes up eagerly, accompanied by the sound of his booming steps. “Hurry up, Holte, time’s a tickin.’ I reckon this ‘s tha only time you’ve been in these walls, so ‘ll be kind enough t’ show ya t’ tha front doors, even tho’ me car ‘s on tha otha side.”

Because of course he would say that, Mr. Hotshot Lawyer who is cocky, annoying, frustrating, full of himself, bossy, rude-

“Thank you,” I say, interrupting my thoughts and taking a plunge, right into those deep green eyes that land on me, and to my surprise, with a smile.

“Welcome, Holte.”

“Thank you,” he says with a rose colored smile to the server, plucking the black book from the middle of the table before I could even think to grab it first. With a quiet sigh, I watch him fish out his wallet and slide a sleek credit card out from a sleeve, stuffing it into the small pocket inside the book, without even a glance inside. “What’s yer problem?” he huffs, chewing on the mint-flavored toothpick and pointing his eyes at me. His eyebrows do all of the talking that stops me from refusing.

“You don’t have to pay for me, I can pay for my own meal,” I insist firmly, touching my wallet that I had pulled out and placed next to my dwindling glass of water.

“I know that,” he begins with strength in his voice, and I worry that I just offended him. I’m afraid it could erase the memorable first meal we just had together of brunch, talking about his case and actually finding out things that he likes and enjoys. “But I would like t’ treat you, and I did invite you after all,” he finishes, smiling briefly when the server returns the book. Sliding out his credit card, he replaces it in his wallet and instead grabs a few bills that he tucks into the black book. “Goin’ t’ argue with me some mo’, are we?”

“No.”

“Good choice,” Harry replies, and when he meets my eyes across the round wooden table, I think that I may see him smile at me.

“But-.”

“And what tha bloody hell d’ya want now?” he grins, propping his chin on his upheld fist, his cheeks round from his smile.

“Maybe I wanted to pay for your meal too.”

“You can tha next time, love. Alright?” he replies softly. When he tears his eyes away to glance at his dinging phone, something stirs inside of me and I wish I could make him look at me like that again. I wish I could create another moment where it feels like he actually likes me.

“On one condition.”

“What’s that, love?” he asks with that breathy laugh of his I’ve only heard a few times now, and never has it been because of me.

“You go back to calling me Becks . . no more ‘Holte,’” I announce slowly and carefully, because if I said them too fast or not just right, I’m afraid that they may break altogether and ruin it. One corner of his mouth reaches higher up his cheek, and I think that for the first time, I’ve made him smile all on my own. “I like it when you call me that.”

“I like it too, darlin’. Reckon ya could be a good lawyer, y’know, with that convincin’ face o’ yers, yer hard t’ say no t’,” he answers, standing to his feet and sliding on his coat, waiting for me to do the same. Does that mean my puppy dog eyes worked on him, fucking finally?

“Thank you, Mr. Styles.”

“Yer not allowed t’ call me that anymo’ then,” Harry says, looking back over his shoulder at me, a few steps ahead of me now.

“Okay,” I agree softly, and the breath hitches in my throat when his eyebrows raise at me with the smallest of smirks. “Harry.”

“Good, I like tha sound o’ that betta.”

“Me too,” I echo ever so quietly, stepping out into the fall air as he holds the door open for me, dreading the strange friendship of ours that will end in the next few moments. A friendship that I wish could live within the walls of the firm, and inside of my heart as something more.

“Ya, that all sounds great. I can’t wait fer this weekend . . Ya, ‘ll ask her soon and let y’know . . Alright, bye,” I hear from down the hall in a happy lilt. Within moments, the smile I hear in his voice appears before my eyes, and somehow only grows brighter.

“What are you smiling about? Oh, and what’s this you’re going to ask me?”

“I neva said I had sumthin’ t’ ask you,” he shrugs with a rosiness to his round cheeks, gliding into his office with his bottom lip held between his teeth.

“Don’t be rude.”

“‘m not,” he giggles softly, stopping at his desk to grab his dark gray Macbook.

“You don’t have me convinced, Mr. Styles,” I sigh, letting my chin fall into my hand as I open up my Google Docs.

“Ah, I rememba when ya used t’ call me that, ‘s been awhile.”

“You can say that again, and God, don’t get too big of a head about it,” I huff with an ironic laugh, feeling myself pulled down memory lane regrettably. “I was just thinking about that, and how much things have changed.”

“Too true,” Harry hums, getting comfy beside me on the sofa while his Macbook blankets his face in a soft glow. “You were Holte and I was Mr. Styles or sir sumtimes. Talk ‘bout a bloody blast from tha past,” he tsks and I find myself nodding along with him. Glancing over to him, my eyebrows fall as my cheeks deceive me with a balmy warmth filling them.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” I wheeze, my fingers drifting to my hair nervously. After all of this time, he can still make me blush like there’s no tomorrow.

“What, I can’t admire me pretty girlfriend?” he scoffs with a shake of his head, booping my nose with his finger. Sometimes, I really still can’t believe that I get to be called that by him.

“I guess you can.”

“Reckon ya should be nicer t’ yer boss, miss. ‘m tha person who signs yer checks,” he tuts while I admire the beauty of his side profile, still trying to get used to how he looks without a beard. Give him back his long hair and it would be like the beginning all over again, although I’m not sure why I keep thinking back to then. I’m not even positive if it’s a good or bad nostalgia.

“Hey!”

“Hey!” he returns in a high pitched voice, imitating me, I suppose. His bubbly laugh soon follows and so do those olive greens that return to me, quite possibly my favourite color in all of existence. “Look at us, bug, back where it all started, aren’t we?” he coos, pulling me into his side and pressing his lips to my head in a loud smooch.

“Mmmhmm, better than ever.”

“Yes, we are. A new beginnin’ o’ sorts, Becks. I dunno how I got so lucky with you,” he winks and thumbs at my chin, his lips only a breath away.

“I think I’m the lucky one.”

“No, that’s me,” he argues with his trademark breathy laugh, and before I get two words out, my comeback is smothered with a kiss. I really did get lucky, luckier than little old me ever thought I would, or could.

God, I’m so proud of her - the old Becks. Him, too. The new us, and especially the old us. We earned this.

“Woman, I swear t’ bloody God if ya send me one mo’ bleedin’ photo o’ a puppy ‘stead o’ writin’ yer brief, imma boot you outta me office and yer not allowed back.”

“Harry!” I scoff after a sound of disbelief, my eyes tearing away from the Google search and to him. His chin is held in his palm while he taps his temple with his pointer finger, eyebrows raised in a silent question at me. “You wouldn’t!”

“Oh, you wanna try me, Holte?” he returns with his eyes narrowed at me, giving me a nod.

Huffing, I look away and back to my laptop, to a screen filled with photos of golden retriever puppies. “Y’know, you’ll seal yer fate if ya roll those pretty eyes at me.”

“I won’t,” I grumble softly, closing out of the tab sadly.

“Good girl,” he hums, tapping the corner of my laptop from above. Looking up, his green eyes draw me over, but I don’t let them pull me in. “Good girl listenin’ t’ yer boss, bug,” he finishes with a wink.

“Don’t call me that, you know I don’t like it,” I retort curtly, switching tabs to my brief where the cursor stares back at me, daring me to try my hand at it.

“But ’s cute, brings back good memories. I like tha name, ’s yer last name. Rebecca Holte,” he teases, nosing at my cheek that grows warmer with every word he speaks.

“For you it does, not me, Harry,” I almost snap, closing the laptop with a sudden clap! He clears his throat and the sound is followed by that of his velvet black Chelsea boots backing up. Spiegel im Spiegel floats from his iMac across the room, a black folder sitting in front of it with now forgotten documents.

“‘m sorry, Becks, it wasn’t tha best o’ times fer me either . . ,” Harry says softly. I wouldn’t have to even look and I know that his lip is held between his teeth like a vice. At my eye level, he twirls a red gemstone ring around a finger, much like I do when something is itching at my insides annoyingly.

“It was the best of times and the worst of times, somewhat minus the best part,” I mumble, picking at the Coldplay sticker already peeling from the lilac case of my laptop.

“Hey, it wasn’t all that bad when ya think o’ tha good parts, babe. Tacos at Pedro’s, stayin’ late drinkin’ wine coolers togetha, tha Halloween party, all o’ our games o’ Scrabble, takin’ you t’ that charity ball with the masquerade theme, and meeting me best friend in tha whole entire world.”

“You know how to work the floor, you know that?” I say gently, smoothing down the sticker with the back of my fingernail.

“Looks like we need anotha night at mine, paintin’ our nails togetha,” he pipes up, but when I remain silent, he returns to my comment that he so easily ignored. “Well yes, yer datin’ a lawyer here, bug. That’s how I swept you off yer feet, dontcha rememba?”

“I dunno about that,” I giggle, ever so slightly, distracted by his hands that come into view and his rings that I bother with. At last, I find those green eyes waiting for me, just as they always do.

“Hey, why tha long face, my love?” he coos sadly, eyebrows bent beneath the weight of his words. “‘m sorry t’ upset you, ‘m not gonna kick you outta me office, y’know I couldn’t handle you bein’ gone eitha.”

“I know,” I titter softly, sliding off his silver ring dotted with little figures and placing it on my thumb where it still hangs loose.

“I like tha name, maybe even fer a boy one day . . Holte,” he muses happily, but I can’t find any words that I’d be willing to say. Instead, I pry the jewelry from my hand and swiftly glide it back onto his. “Altho’ I reckon I treated you like shit when I called you that.”

“Just a bit.”

“‘m sorry t’ drudge tha memory up like I did,” he whispers, only feeding the awkward tension waiting in the air. His lanky figure leaves its place in front of me, reminding me of the money tree sitting across me by the window, an ironic gift from Myles last month. “Can I help you with yer brief, li’l one?” Harry continues, the cushion underneath me dipping with his weight. I nod before I even feel his hand squeeze my adjacent shoulder and pull me into his side with a lasting kiss to my forehead. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” I echo, tipping my head to his shoulder as he lifts the closed laptop from my lap. Laying back, he props it on his spread lap as I snuggle into his side.

“I like what ya have so far, I think yer inna good spot. How ‘bout this, next we . . . . ,” Harry says after reading the document, but with his greens back in sight and that dimple threatening to pop loose, I find it hard to listen to a word he says while staring up at him. My boyfriend. Can you believe it, Becky? “You even listenin’ t’ me there?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just hard to when you’re so cute.”

“Bloody hell,” he chuckles with rosy cheeks, the dimples loud and proud at the helm of his smile. “Alright, let’s take a break from goo-goo-gaga land for a few, Ms. Holte, and work on yer brief fer yer case that’s bein’ heard next week. Alright?”

“Alright,” I sigh with a slight pout that he sees instantaneously with a shake of his head.

“Shall I entice you? Dunno why I should hafta, but I guess we all need a li’l bit o’ bribery e’ry now and then,” he smirks, finishing his words with a wink. “My Becks likes bribes.”

“Oh and what, you don’t, Ha-,” the giggle flows from my lips, and is yanked in by his that silence my words. Sometimes, I really do wish that I could tell The Old Me about how good it gets, and to hold on, because it may be a bumpy ride, Old Becky, but it’s going to all pay off in the end.

“Bloody hell, no wonder ya’ve had t’ pee ten times t’day. Chill on tha caffeine, would ya?” somebody gripes from behind me, but it falls away when their arms come around my middle, soon nosing at my neck.

“Hey, I gave into coffee long ago. It owns me by now,” I return, closing the top to the Keurig. After pressing a few buttons, the machine begins to whir and spit out the dark liquid. My neck tickles from his warm breaths behind me, and the feeling of his lips.

“Becks?”

“Yeah, Harry?” I respond, my hands finding their way to surround his that lay clasped over my belly. The tip of his middle finger ghosts over my several inch scar, making me wonder when he had memorized it in his mind.

“My mum ‘s comin’ t’ visit this weekend, t’ see Gemma and tha kids, and me. She’s comin’ over t’ mine Saturday mornin’ fer brekky . . and I was uh, wonderin’ if ya’d like t’ join us? If ya’d like t’ meet me mum at last? She hasn’t stopped askin’ t’ meet you fer tha last two months.” the words leave his lips in an announcement, taking away all else and no longer do I feel his hands on my stomach or hear the churning of the coffee. Turning around, his dimples live far away and so does his bottom lip that’s trapped between his teeth, telling me that I’m not the only one being consumed by my nervousness. “I reckon she’s mo’ excited t’ see you than she ‘s t’ see me,” Harry chuckles but the light on his lips sputters out when I tear my eyes away from his hopeful ones.

“Harry, I . . “

“What ‘s it, Becks?” he whispers. My eyes close when he noses against my cheek, his next words crawling along my neck. “Y’know she’ll love you, ‘ssa given, babe.”

“How can she love me when she hasn’t even met me?”

“‘Cuz yer so lovable, that’s why,” he insists from below my ear, mouthing at the hollow that lives there. “Why’re ya so nervous, babe? I reckon this ‘s a piece o’ cake compared t’ how I met yer bloody parents, in hospitals o’ all places.”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t complain,” I respond quietly, but that’s all that I can think of when we pull apart at the sound of a voice from behind the break room door. Clearing my throat, I turn back to my mug of coffee where the last few drops plop into the steaming liquid.

“Promise you it’ll be okay. There’s nuthin’ t’ be nervous ‘bout, she’s tha sweetest woman ‘ve ever met- well, besides you that ‘s,” Harry says quietly, eyes wandering between our guest and me. “‘s jus’ brekky and if ya like, dinner at me sista’s that night too.”

“Two in one?” I exclaim, setting down my coffee and turning to face him where he leans against the counter. The smirk painted across his face spreads to his shoulders that he shrugs ever so smugly. “God, Harry, bombard me much?” I sigh sarcastically with a shake of my head, turning away from him and watching how the coffee does somersaults when I pour creamer into it.

“Well? Ya aren’t jus’ gonna leave me hangin’ there, Becks, are you?” he plods on, pulling at the cuff of my blazer impatiently while one of the blokes from IT rummages through the refrigerator.

“I dunno, Harry, meeting two family members in one day is a lot to ask of me,” I tut jokingly with my lips pressed into an uncertain line. The disappointment on his face melts away when I find his greens with my own again. “Of course I’ll meet your mum, but I’m supposed to have dinner with Skye and her parents Saturday night, so I can’t make it to your sister’s, I’m sorry. It seems to be a popular weekend for parents to come into town.”

“Oh, I rememba you mentionin’ that now. ‘m sorry, I forgot. No worries on meetin’ me sista, she lives in town y’know, so we’ll jus’ find anotha day,” he agrees in a soft voice, brushing it off expertly. “Yer not gettin’ outta that one that easily, Becks,” he teases, pointing a finger at me that I push away.

“If you meet Skye’s mum, I’ll meet your sister. Sound like a deal?”

“Skye’s mum?” he questions, crossing his arms over his chest with knotted brows. I almost giggle at the confusion swept over his face until the bulging of his muscles beneath the arms of his button up pulls me in and far away. Once again, this man really does know what he’s doing to me, even when he’s not exactly aware of it.

“Yes,” I exhale, dragging my eyes back to my tan colored coffee. Finished with the creamer, it closes with an excited snap! “I was nervous for you to meet my mum, although I never thought it’d happen, but I’m more about you meeting Eliza, Skye’s mum. She’s more of a mum to me than mine ever was, always letting me sleep over when things got bad with mine, and Robbie too. I’d really like for you to meet her, maybe lunch or something while she’s in town the next few days.”

His eyes are soft and light dances within them, just for me. “‘Course, bug, ‘d love t’ meet her. She sounds lovely, and so would lunch with her and Skye. Altho’ ‘m not sure how somebody who birthed Skye could be lovely,” he jokes and quickly laughs when my jaw slackens. “‘m bloody jokin’ and whateva ya do, don’t tell her I said that,” he chuckles, enjoying this far too much than he should be.

“You’re really going to be in for it with Skye now,” I giggle with a dismissive shake of my head as I lift the mug to my lips.

“What’s new?” he asks with his hands held out in front of him, leaving my side to grab a Styles and Lawson mug from the cabinet, identical to my own. “I thought you and Rose didn’t like our mugs, so why d’ya keep usin’ ‘em, hmm?”

“I dunno, they have . . good handles.”

“Sureeeee, Becks,” he tuts as the K-Cup falls into the holder with a signifying pop! “So, Saturday then?” he says nonchalantly while placing the mug under the impending stream of caffeine. He continues his trained practice of his voice dipping when the bloke gets too close to us- Brian, I think it is, I can’t remember. He really does know what he’s doing, this man of mine.

My name on his lips rouses me from my overactive thoughts and pulls my eyes over to his and his already five o’clock shadow, distracting me from the clang! of the door closing. “What should I wear?” I wonder aloud with placid lips that only move to imitate the emotion yanking his towards the heavens.

“You’ll look gorgeous in absolutely anythin’, bug, and ‘s jus’ brekky. Please, ya don’t hafta worry ‘bout meetin’ her, she’s so easy t’ get on with. ‘s like she already knows you from everythin’ ‘ve told her ‘bout you over tha years.”

“Wow, no pressure or anything,” I exhale loudly, glad to have the room back to ourselves, and for the way his arms lull the monsters away. “Do I even want to know what you’ve told her?”

“I dunno, sumthin’ along tha lines o’ how ‘m in love with this girl, and have been fer awhile now,” he coos into my ear, zings sent down my spine when his lips brush my earlobe. The next words stop in their tracks on my tongue and my arms stop halfway to wrapping around him.

“Wait,” I begin lightly, taking a step back and wishing I could in this conversation. “You’re in love with me?” I say tentatively, the front of his blazer grounding me to this moment when my fingers grab onto it.

“I thought that you knew . . that it went without sayin’,” he giggles with cheeks resembling apples, both by shape and color. “I couldn’t be anythin’ other than that, Becks.”

“Huh,” I hum absently, admiring the threads of each white flower that climb from the sides of his slacks and all the way up to his lapels between my fingers.

I think I lose my grasp on them when his lips attach themselves to my forehead, and I just hope that he can’t feel the racing of my pulse all the way up there. That may not be possible, but to feel the way his lips curl against my skin is, and a whisper of a laugh.

“Reckon ‘s time we have a li’l argument over who’s been in love with tha other fer longer, innit?” Harry begins before a kiss brings an end to his words, their sound whisked away by a long silence that I fear. “Ya don’t hafta say it back y’know, I won’t-.”

“It’s not you,” I interrupt, my fear quickly being allotted to the same emotion that wipes his face clean. “The winner, I mean. I’ve been in love with you far longer, that’s for sure.”

“Can ya maybe not gi’mme a bloody heart attack there?” he giggles, clutching at his chest.

“What, I rarely get the chance to one up you, so I have to take it!” I exclaim and my eyes grow wide when I see the look on his face. One of his signature looks. A squeal tickles the air when he lifts me off of my feet and into the air. “Harry Styles!”

“What, Rebecca Ann?” he titters after a few spins, soon setting me down on my feet. My lips have only parted when he silences them with his, and I wonder how I went from dreaming a dream that I knew could never exist and now, getting to live it every second of every day.

“I think I fell in love with you when I saw you get off that lift,” I begin, looking away shyly, but he doesn’t let me get away with it, lifting my chin with his finger. He may let me get away with loads of shit, but no, not this time. “That night in Madley, at the hospital . . . but I think I had fallen in love with you a little bit loads of other times before, and not known it.”

“I swear, woman, tha amount o’ times ya make me fall fer you all over ‘gain,” Harry wheezes with damp eyes, shaking his head with the largest contradicting smile. “C’mere, my love . . Bloody hell, I think ya win this one, ‘cuz I can’t even rememba tha moment I fell fer you, ‘s been so many times fer me as well. Reckon I prolly told me mum each time they happened too.”

“Saturday should be fun then,” I joke from the corner of his neck, relaxing with my exhale against him.

“Yes, it shall. Until then, let’s get goin.’”

“What, where?” I giggle, finding the glitter in his eye that I have a hard time remembering them being without.

“‘s Tuesday, silly,” he titters with dimples shining, and face skewed into a confused question. “Let’s go get our tacos. ‘ll even buy ya extra churros.”

“That’s the only reason I’m going,” I joke, feeling him squeeze my hand. When I look over to him, I find those warm greens painting their happiness all over me.

“Don’t be bloody rude,” he chuckles with a shake of his head, holding the door open for me.

Although this impromptu ‘meeting the parents’ gig is eating away at my nerves, I can’t help but grow in excitement at the idea of meeting the very person I have to thank for him.

My God, I have my whole world to thank her for.

We had fallen into our own routine at work and quickly, but that was due to ‘push came to shove’ and there was no real way around it. Much to my mortification, Harry had told me that while in the hospital Myles had informed the rest of the legal team at the firm that we were dating, and so they knew. There wasn’t any way around it really, trying to explain why Harry was also gone for the same length I was from work, and suddenly. Regardless, Harry and I still avoided acting like we were dating, and at times I let it get to me, dwelling over the fact that everybody knew our secret. It was fun at first to keep, but it grew out of hand swiftly. It frustrated me often and I think it did the same for Harry, refraining from hugging when a team meeting went well or we won a case. The rules of the courtroom were far stricter, but it still upset me at times.

Like now, seeing how Amelia’s substitute was flirting it up with Harry, unbeknownst to him. It’s not like I could exactly walk up to them and tell her to stop, although it bothers me how her flirting goes through one of his ears and out the other while he shows her how to do something at the front desk.

“Fuck me,” I groan, giving up on waiting for him and going ahead with what I was doing. Blinking hard and filling my lungs with air, my opal necklace dances below my collarbones with every step.

I find that I have the room to myself, and as the copier beeps with each button that I press, I hum a song to myself. The documents sitting in my hands are whisked away by the large machine, a newer and larger one since my first time here. Thank God, because that thing was always having problems.

“I think somebody’s got a little crush on our boss out there,” somebody snickers from the doorway. My eyes flit over to find Jennings waltzing into the copier room, his horn rims perched on his long nose. Awkwardly, I look away and answer with a soft ‘mmhmm.’ I occupy myself with watching the machine spit out new sheets onto its bottom tray. “I hope you’re not too jealous,” he jokes with a loud laugh, but I don’t echo it. Why would I? Could you bring up anything more awkward or inappropriate to say to me, Jennings?

“I’m fine,” I answer gently, picking up the stack after the whirring sound finishes. Stepping to the side, I tap the stack against the black counter and slide open a drawer.

“Figure I owe you a congrats on your Employee of the Month recognition, that’s a rather big deal,” he continues, meandering through the wire shelves of supplies across the room from me.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I return with emphasis in my voice, feeling out the lack of compassion in his. Clearing my throat, I dig around in the plastic tray set in the drawer until I grab a few large binder clips.

“I’ve worked here for years, and haven’t had the luck of getting it since they started it this year,” he remarks, shaking a box of pens that he plucked from the shelf.

“It’s only April, I’m sure you’ll have your chance,” I say slowly, separating my piles and tapping them against the counter until they’re neat and tidy.

“I dunno about that, I haven’t even made bloody partner yet here. You’ll probably make it before me, seeing as how you have an in with the boss,” Jennings nearly retorts, and I gulp hard, suddenly reminded of the iffy feeling I’ve always had about him. I can’t place the blame on myself though, because he’s given me good reason for it, and I hope that he isn’t about to give me more. “It’s a shame you lost your case last week though, I hope Harry wasn’t too upset with you, but I’m sure he couldn’t be mad at his little girlfriend. He would’ve been mad at Rose, or even me, but no, not you. Isn’t that right?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” I begin, the papers threatened between my suddenly clammy fingers.

“Excuse me? I’d say it is, I don’t want you giving the firm a bad name now, but it looks like your boyfriend can’t save you from everything.”

“What are you implying?” I demand curtly, turning around swiftly just in time to watch him slip a Macbook charger into his pocket.

“I thought you were supposed to be a brilliant lawyer from what I hear, Becky, so I’ll leave that one up to you, wouldn’t you say?” Jennings poses with a dark glint in his eye, raising one thick eyebrow at me. “Oh wait, maybe I’ll give you a little help, seeing as how you couldn’t even win the case of that ex-wife racking up debt in her ex-husband’s name . . How do I say it? Well, I find it rather unfair the special treatment you receive, wouldn’t you agree? No, I guess you wouldn’t, would you?” he snickers, the swing and fall of his shoulders and eyebrows being more than enough for me to see.

Turning back around, I hastily fasten the clips onto the stacks of documents for Harry’s new case, and well, mine too, much to somebody’s dissatisfaction. Excerpts from legal books, testimonies, and rough drafts of the argument. The tapping of a pen against the wire shelf gnaws at my ears, and accelerates the time bomb inside of me.

“I don’t receive any special treatment, because of Harry or from him,” I mutter through gritted teeth, gathering the stacks all into one final pile. “I’d say that you’re being out of line and that you need to stop while you’re ahead.”

“Or what, you’ll tell your big, bad, boss boyfriend? Nobody likes snitches, you should know that. Plus, I’m his friend and I’ve known him longer than you, so who would he believe?” he chuckles darkly, igniting the hairs on the back of my neck with his impending footsteps. “Don’t deny it, you do receive special treatment. You get out of meetings and trainings even, the firm pays for your lunch several times a week I’m sure, you get overtime when you want it, you got a free thousand-dollar laptop again, and I’m sure your reviews will come out just sparkling. Not to mention, still having a job after being gone all that time after your accident. Did I miss anything there, Becky?” he finishes, his snarky words slithering along my back and into my ears where his breath wafts over me.

“‘s everythin’ alright in here?” comes a voice from out of the blue. The three-level paper organizer sat in front of me blurs as my eyes widen. The ball in my throat is met with an unsuccessful gulp when I feel a hand on my arm. I shrink away from the touch before he can squeeze it.

“Oh yes, I was just congratulating Becky on her Employee of the Month recognition. She deserves it,” Jennings answers for us, voice boisterous with faux cheer.

“Becks?” Harry murmurs, cautiously touching my arm again and this time, I don’t run away from his touch. “Alright?” he whispers questioningly, the gentleness of his voice wills my eyes over to him. There’s a pang in my gut when I watch the emotion mirrored on his face - alarmed with fear and confusion. “Hey, what’s tha matter?” he probes, the warmth of his rings seeping through the thin fabric of my long sleeved blouse.

“H-He . . was saying this stuff to me- awful stuff, and . . ,” I trail off quietly, my eyes flitting to the sandy brown hair I see from behind Harry, watching and listening as well.

“What tha hell did ya say t’ her, Pete?” Harry questions, turning to face his colleague as he holds my elbow firmly.

“Nothing,” he almost laughs, and then he makes a sound as if something came to mind. “Okay, okay. I guess I upset her when I told her that I saw her nick one of the Macbook chargers the other day. I approached the subject gently, just letting her know that they’re eighty bucks a pop, and she can only have one here at-.”

“What, I did not! You’re the one who just stuffed one down your pants, you liar!” I scoff, spinning to face them both. “You did it when you were accusing me of getting special treatment from Harry!” I exclaim with my voice breaking in mid-sentence, the explanation soon growing wet.

“What?!” Harry breathes, shock coating his every syllable. “Pete, what in tha bloody fuck ‘s tha matter with you? Becks would never steal and- wait, yer accusin’ her o’ gettin’ treated special jus’ ‘cuz she’s datin’ me? Have ya fell off yer fookin’ rocker, mate? I don’t treat Myles any bleedin’ different fer bein’ me best friend all me life, I treat e’rybody here tha fookin’ same, if ya hadn’t noticed. I reckon ‘s none o’ yer damn business how I mentor her, and don’t forget who fookin’ hired you as well, mate, and who can fire you.”

“I just dunno why I’ve been here for how many bloody years as only a senior associate, mind you, and in walks her and-.”

“I don’t care what yer fookin’ problem ‘s, Pete, but maybe I would’ve if ya’d bloody brought it t’ me instead o’ takin’ it out on her. ‘m yer boss, mate, I coulda helped you, so what good was it t’ cuss her out ‘cuz ya feel like shit?” Harry interrupts defensively, and with a blink, I see the redness rising in their faces.

“Harry, please, let’s just go. I’m fine,” I beg, taking his hand and pulling on it. He doesn’t move an inch, and neither do his eyes from Jennings.

“I tried, if you hadn’t noticed, but you were always too fucking busy for me, weren’t you? ‘Cause apparently, the only people who can get your bleeding attention as of late are those who are sucking your prick,” Jennings shrugs matter of factly. The surprise morphing my features and shaking my body is nothing compared to the shift in Harry’s demeanor.

“Harry,” I begin when his fingers slip from mine. “No, don’t!” I exclaim, stepping forward and grabbing onto his arm, but my fingers only grasp at air.

“A li’l fookin’ jealous, are we? Would ya rather it be you suckin’ me dick?” he jests at Jennings who steps closer to him.

“Jealous of that? Fucking, hell no. I can’t believe you even call her a lawyer,” Jennings retorts, pushing his glasses off his nose and into his hair. “I see now why you hired her, she must be pretty fucking good at giving head and-.”

“Harry!” I almost shout, wanting to step forward and instead backing up when I watch his fist fly. A wrenched sound escapes my lips when I see it connect with Jennings’ face, but it shrinks in comparison to the tear that splits my heart when Harry’s knocked back by Jennings’ swing. “Stop it! Now!” I nearly scream through a curtain of tears, my throat burning. Only then, does Harry lift his head of messy curls to look at me, wiping his fist against his nose that comes back red.

Muttered curses fall from Jennings as he leaves hastily clutching his cheek, and I remain frozen until I see the blood gush from his nose.

“You idiot! What were you thinking?” I cry, rushing forward and surrounding his face with my hands.

“What was I thinkin’? I was thinkin’ I was standin’ up fer you, I wasn’t gonna let him say one mo’ nasty word ‘bout you, Becks. I could do with a thank you, y’know,” he sighs, eyeing the scarlet plummeting to the marbled floor with silent plops.

“Harry,” I sob with a dismissive shake of my head, brushing back his hair to find the shock of red skin surrounding his nose below his eye.

“Oh, baby, ‘m so sorry,” he huffs, grabbing a handful of tissues from a shelf and shoving them against his nose. At last, he yanks me into his arms and there I shed my tears into his cream button down that’s already marred by his sudden bloody nose. “I didn’t mean t’ frighten you, it jus’ happened so fast . . But I don’t regret it, standin’ up fer you . . I can’t believe tha mouth on him . . ‘m so sorry he said those things t’ you, none o’ them are true, I hope y’know.”

Sniffling, I move away and find his eyes that beg for me, “Don’t let what he said get t’ you fer one second, e’rythin’ he said was lies, Becks. Every li’l thing, I promise you that,” he says firmly, pulling away a strand of hair that sticks to my cheek slick with tears. “‘d never let sumbody hurt you like that . . never ever.”

“I haven’t even sucked your dick yet,” I giggle from beneath him, and then, can I start to relax when his giggle graces the air.

“Ya, ‘d rather we keep that info’ t’ ourselves, wouldn’t you?” he snickers with that breathy laugh I love so dearly. “Don’t need tha whole bloody firm knowin’ I haven’t even gotten me dicked properly sucked yet.”

“Hey!” I shoot back, slapping at his chest ever so faintly.

“‘m kiddin’, bug. Y’know I don’t care it hasn’t happened yet, e’rythin’ in good time,” he insists, pulling me back against his front. I relent, but remain with my eyes pointed skywards. “I mean it, don’t worry yer pretty li’l head ‘bout inconsequential shit like that, or what he said.”

“You’re still an idiot,” I sigh, caressing his cheek that tickles my hand with its stubble.

“Why, ‘cuz ‘ll have a bruised up face fer our lunch with Skye and her mum t’day, or fer brekky with mine?” he jokes with a grin half hidden by his handful of Kleenex.

“Yes, and no. Wait- you will. Harry!” I whine, only making him laugh against my hair when he kisses the top of my head. “No, you idiot, you’re not going to get it to stop bleeding like that. Sit down.”

“Yes, m’am. I always knew I had a thing fer in charge women,” he snickers with a click of his tongue, stealing a kiss from my cheek before dragging over a chair against the wall.

“Okay, give me the tissues. Thanks, now- No, you’ll only swallow blood that way. What, are you stupid?” I instruct, leaving him one to manage the nosebleed by himself as I fold up the rest. “Here, you need to hold them against your nose and with your other hand, pinch the bridge of your nose as you look down. Do that for, I dunno, five or ten minutes until it stops bleeding. Let me go and get you some ice for that shiner of yours.”

“‘m fine, Becks. Really. All I want ‘s fer you t’ stay,” he says, grabbing hold of my hand when I turn away to leave. His expressive eyebrows near his hairline when he raises them at me in a near dare, but all I can see is the man I love and those eyelashes I’m so jealous of. “And t’ apologize, even tho’ ‘m not even really sorry for what I did.”

“Apology accepted,” I concur sarcastically, stepping back to lean against the counter. “I’ll let you be an idiot this one time.”

“Hey, don’t get yer hopes up too high now,” the sound of his giggle floats away and then my eyes are lulled to our hands that he laces together with a squeeze.

“Thank you, Harry,” I tell him sincerely, finding those greens hidden amongst his obnoxious curls.

“You’re sure?” she asks in between the noises that sound like bubbles trickling from her lips.

“Yes, ‘m sure. Dunno how many times I hafta tell ya.”

“You know it’ll never be enough,” she giggles below me, her face screwed up in absolute happiness. “Harry!” she yelps, shoving at my chest weakly.

“I know it won’t, yer stubborn as a bloody bull, you are,” I tsk with a click of my tongue, her body jolting with every stroke of my fingers across her ribs. Chuckling, I back up and watch how the laughs still peel off of her lips. “What’re you laughin’ at now, hmm? ‘m not even ticklin’ you anymo’ and yer still laughin’, li’l one.”

The crinkles around her eyes remain and so does the divot in her left cheek that I love almost as much as her eyes, but not quite. Speaking of, those very blues open up and land on me with a glitter to them, only to flee when the chime of the doorbell rings throughout the house. I watch how the skin of her throat is disrupted by a nervous swallow, followed by the automatic twirling of her ring around her pointer finger.

“Coming!” I call behind me, glancing to the door and then her. The way her dark waves are splayed across the sofa cushions. The glittery opal that sits perfectly above the scoop of her maroon blouse. The pink seeping through in her cheeks that I could kiss until I taste their sweetness.

“You’re really sure, Harry?” Becks asks softly, her eyes wandering nervously to the front door and then me.

“Yes, ‘m absolutely positive she’ll love you. Now, take a deep breath and let’s go answer tha door.”

A small ‘okay’ greets the air as her fingers fall between mine that I reassuringly squeeze. My steps come to a halt in front of the cherry oak, but I’m not quite there. Looking up, my thoughts are confirmed when I see my arm outstretched holding onto her where she stands, much too far away.

“C’mere,” I laugh in a whisper, tugging on her arm until she arrives at my side. The smell of orange blossoms and vanilla flood my senses as I pull away from the forehead kiss.

“You know, she’s going to be mad, don’t you?” I pose, ghosting my thumb over the concoction of purple and blue painted below his eye.

“Hush, li’l one, I already have one mum. I don’t need anotha,” he chirps with a teasing wink, twisting open the door.

“What is this I’m going to be mad about?” a voice pipes up with a curious accusatory sound to their voice. “Harry Edward!” she exclaims, not even one foot in the door. “What’d you do to your beautiful face?”

“I uh, ran into a door. Y’know, my sunglasses were really dark and-,” he begins, but much to my surprise and happiness, his mother doesn’t let him get away with the terrible lie. I’m liking her already.

“Don’t lie to your mother, son,” she tuts with a shake of her head, lightly smacking the back of his head that he mutters an ‘ow!’ at. The oddly cold Spring day rushes in with her first steps, but my insides warm at the sigh she shares with me when our eyes meet. “I thought you were old enough to know better to avoid fist fights.”

“Pete started it, not me!”

“I don’t care who started it, you’re a grown man, Harry.”

“That’s what I tried to tell him,” I groan, watching him take her coat to hang in the closet beside the stairs.

“Bloody hell, I see you two are gettin’ on already. Who’s side are you on, anyways?” Harry scoffs, closing the dark cherry wood door.

“Yes, I see we are. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you, Becky. I’ll just blame it on me son keeping you away from me,” Harry’s mum croons, her lips painted with lipstick spreading into a cheery smile. Chuckling, I ignore Harry’s arguing ‘hey!’ as I step forward into her outreached arms. “I think I have a bone to pick with him, you’re prettier than he ever said you were.”

“So are you,” I chortle, picking up on the geranium and amber notes of her perfume before I step away to find her cobalt blue eyes smiling at me.

“I do like her!” she chuckles to Harry, squeezing my opposite arm that she still holds onto.

“What’d I tell ya?” Harry pipes up, nodding at me. “Two peas inna pod already, you lot are. Talkin’ shit ‘bout me and motherin’ me togetha in tha first bleedin’ minute ya’ve met,” he sighs, taking down three white plates from the cabinets that he reaches easily with his height.

“That’s good, I need somebody else here to mother you while ‘m away. I reckon it doesn’t help much when you’re too stubborn to avoid boyish fist fights,” she returns, turning to me with a joking look in her eyes. Our laughs echo the others as she leads me over to the oval wooden table on the other side of the kitchen island, against the sliding patio door. “Who better than your girlfriend and colleague?”

“I guess so,” Harry groans, pulling back a chair for her to sit, soon falling into the chair across from me. “Neither o’ you even let me get t’ tha introductions, you women and yer talkin,’” he grunts, pulling himself closer to the table. With a calming breath, he runs a hand through his hair and pushes up the sleeves of his olive green knitted jumper. “Mum, this ‘s me girlfriend, Becky, but I like t’ call her Becks. And bug, this ‘s me mum, Anne. Shall we finally have that brekky togetha we’ve been talkin’ ‘bout fer months?”

“Yes, let’s dig in,” Anne chuckles, a sliver of Harry’s song heard in her voice. “Oooo, ‘s this apple bread by the famous chef I’ve heard so much about?”

“Yes, she doesn’t disappoint, never ever,” Harry winks, licking a crumb off of his thumb after grabbing a slice of the bread. A pink sits in his cheeks that I’m sure is mirrored in my own, and perhaps greater. I look away with a small smile, shoveling the egg bake onto my plate. “Not in tha court room, with baking, or with how good o’ job she does takin’ care o’ me,” he muses with a glint in his eye and cheeks rounder than I’ve ever seen.

I go on and listen to the stories, I even help tell some of them. Some of them make me tear up, whether it be from laughing, the wetness in Harry’s, or the love shining through in his and in hers.

“I told ya so.”

“Yeah, when don’t you?” I bite back, and immediately regret it when I feel his fingers along my ribs, eliciting laughs from my lips.

“Hey, watch it, li’l one. I have you inna compromisin’ situation here, so ya betta watch yerself,” Harry giggles, the words tickling my ear. The sounds continue from my lips and I hear them shadowed in his, and how they play off of each other while his hands keep my stomach warm. “I told ya she’d love you, and she did. Couldn’t shutup ‘bout you at Gemma’s last night, ‘specially tha fact you gave her a whole loaf o’ yer apple bread. You made her bloody day, ‘m sure. Speakin’ of, ya ready t’ meet me sista properly fer lunch t’morrow?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I groan, the words whisked away with a sound that my lips, I sometimes think, hold just for him. His stubbly face is itchy against my temple, but he remedies it with soft pecks to the skin.

“You guess?!” he exclaims, squeezing me around the middle. My head knocks against his, and he keeps my fingers secure between his while the smells of greasy pizza and floor cleaner lull me with their familiarity. His argument dissolves into a soft chuckle muffled against my hair where he mouths kisses.

“You know who I wish you could meet?”

“Hmmm, who’s that, bug?” Harry replies. Gulping, my eyes fall away from the crowds of people mingling around at the their tables, sucking the last few drops from their soda or guzzling pints. The answer flees from my lips, but after I twirl it around my finger a few times, I think he knows after he nuzzles his head against mine. “I wish I coulda meet yer gran,’ too, y’know. I wish you coulda met my granddad as well. ‘m sad I didn’t get t’ meet yers eitha . . . You’ll have t’ come home t’ Cheshire one o’ these weekends and meet me Gran’ Clara- Claire, she likes t’ go by. She’s a real hoot and already knows ‘bout you, naturally. She reminds me loads o’ Skye’s mum- bloody hell, I see where Skye gets tha crazies from now.”

“I agree with you on that one,” I titter and he nods into my neck, but the sounds fall when he spins the ring around my finger before folding my hands inside of his own.

In a whisper against my cheek, he whispers words that take away the breath I didn’t know that I had left. “‘m so bloody glad that I met you, Becks, and that we’re here . . finally. Met me mum, met Skye’s tha other day, and meetin’ me sista t’morrow. Harper will be delighted t’ see you, I know, and tha baby ‘s gettin’ bigger e’ryday.”

I nod and any words I had wanted to say escape me with the squeal garnered by his fingers digging into my tummy, remedied by a kiss below my ear.

“You lot are fucking disgusting, y’know that, don’t you?” comes a voice with a disdainful scoff. “It’s been your turn for a good thirty seconds now, Ree. Get going, would you?!”

“I know, ‘s great, innit? Go on, babe. Show me how t’ get a strike,” Harry teases with a loud kiss to my cheek to annoy Robbie, pushing me off of his lap where his arms wrapped around me kept us arm. It’s drowned out by the sound of surprise I utter when he slaps my ass with his hand.

“My fricken God, you two are embarrassing me,” Robbie groans, walking past me to pick up his pint from the table, and taking a seat beside his muddy Wellies. Turning around in shock, I find Harry’s greens lit with a smirk that shines on his face. “C’mon, Ree, bowl already! You’re shit half of the time anyways, what’s the difference now?” he jokes and a loud scoff graces the air, much to Harry’s amusement.

Sighing, I step up to the little contraption that wheels forward Robbie’s glittery navy blue bowling ball. I lean over to grab my electric yellow one etched with a white ‘7’ and widen my eyes at Harry’s green ‘10.’ Threading my fingers into the three holes, my clown like shoes step onto the polished wood, and I try to remain cool and calm. Closing my eyes, I grimace at their teasing of me from behind, but Harry’s contagious breathy laugh propels me forward.

“Ya, that’s me girl! Three pins down, woohoo!” he shouts loudly in a squeaky and sarcastic voice, holding up his beer in a fake cheer. Shaking my head with red cheeks, I wait for my ball to return and to try again.

Slowly, I realize with the ball heavy in my hands and my score falling far behind theirs on the tv above, that just like any other time, I don’t care if I win or lose. This time is different, listening to how my boyfriend and my twin brother joke from behind me and laugh, their conversation quickly turning to football and then music.

Sometimes, I have a hard time believing this is a day in my life after everything, and it’s only one of the firsts.

A/N: Hello, friends! Thank you SO MUCH to those still reading, and also to new readers! Welcome, and I’m so glad you’re here! I’m so sorry that this blurb took awhile than I originally planned . . it boggles me how I spend basically every minute I’m not working and shadowing doing homework :/ I hope to have the next blurb out in two weeks, so I’ll keep you all posted! Enjoy and let me know what you think, please! I love you all and good luck with everything!

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whatisthiscontentyouspeakof · 4 years

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Guardian of Light

Being anxious about post the last chapter and how well you guys would receive it has resulted in me not looking at any of the notes this account has gotten because anxiety, so if you asked to be tagged, I haven’t see it yet and thus you haven’t been added to the tag list. I promise to have you added for the next post though.

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Chapter 3: Friends

(Age 12)

Marinette looked at the girl in front of her. She was pale, caucasian, with blond hair and bright blue eyes. Her hair was straight with a slight wave to the ends of it, with half of it pulled up in a ponytail with the rest staying down along with two strands at the front to frame her face. She wore a canary yellow aline dress with a black bow along the waist seam, with black cuban heeled boots and a black wide brim hat. And most importantly, she was staring at Marinette as if she was looking at an alien.

“Can I help you?” she asked the blond politely.

“Marinette,” her birth name came out of the girls mouth like a whimper, as if saying the name pained her.

“Yes?” she said.

Tears formed in the girl's eyes and she brought one of her hands up to cover her mouth, revealing her french manicure. “I-” the girl had to stop as her voice cracked. She took a few calming breaths before speaking again. “I’m sure you don’t remember me, god we were so young. We used to be in the same class back before you were taken. If I hadn’t been such a brat back then, maybe you never would have gone missing.”

That clicked something in her mind as she flashed back to one of the few memories she had before becoming Niu. “You’re the girl in the park.” She whispered. “The one throwing a tantrum.”

That didn’t seem like the best thing to say as the girl full on started to cry, not the kind of crying that came with sobs and screams but the kind where tears leaked from your eyes uncontrollably. After a moment of silence the girl laughed. “I'm sorry, I’m such a mess. I’m Chloe by the way, not sure if you remember that much.”

“I would say I’m Marinette, but I think you already know that,” Marinette said, not sure how to continue. Was she supposed to get angry at the girl since she obviously blamed herself or was she supposed to say it was nothing and the past is in the past. When in doubt, go with nice. “Hey, it’s fine, okay. I really don’t remember much about that day. We were three, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault I was taken. And it’s not like you were the one who took me.”

“I know I’m being ridiculous just so you know,” The girl, Chloe said. “It’s just, I was such a brat and I threw the fit and that’s why none of the teachers were watching when you were grabbed. It was a bit of a wake up call for me, that not everything revolved around me and I spent all this time thinking I got you killed, that you were dead in a forest somewhere but then I heard you’d been found and I couldn’t believe it.”

Marinette studied the girl before coming up with an idea. She took a step back and turned her back to the girl. She could feel the girls confusion as her crying slowed down. Once she was sure the girl was calm she turned back around. “Hello,” she said with a wide smile. “My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. When I was three I was forced to live with some people who weren’t the nicest; I don’t want to talk about it so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t ask any questions. I’ve been living with my parents again for the last two months after being in a year long coma. I’m going to be going into Sixieme at College Francoise Dupont. And you are?”

The girl hesitated for a moment before wiping her tears away. “I am Chloe Bourgeois. I used to be a spoiled brat, having two rich parents can do that to a kid but when a kid in my class disappeared I got realized that other people mattered and tried my hardest to do better. I still have my moments in which I’m a bitch and materialistic but that’s not all I am. My mom is Style Queen Audrey Bourgeois and my dad is the current Mayor of Paris Andre Bourgeois. I’m also about to enter Sixieme at College Francoise Dupont, and I’d like to be the first to offer to show you around Paris again since you’ve been gone for so long.”

Marinette smiled. “Why not.”

Afterall, if she was going to be in Paris for a while, who better to have as a friend then a socialite and daughter of the mayor?

Marinette followed Chloe up to her bedroom, having an off feeling about the blond. So far she’d been nothing but nice to Marinette, showing her all the ‘hip’ hang outs and catching her up on all the students that would be in their year, all useful information, but the girl had something planned and it was putting Marinette on edge. She doubted it was anything to cause her harm, the blond had yet to give off any signals to suggest such, but her training refused to allow her to let her guard down. You never knew who was just pretending to be your friend after all and who knew, maybe Chloe had been trained by someone similar to how Marinette had been with the Order.

Chloe showed her around the room when suddenly three people walked into the room, one was a blond boy, another was a stern looking woman with black hair that had some bits dyed red, and the last was a large, buff man who stood looming over the boy with a protective air about him. She’d seen enough bodyguards and personal guards in her life to know what one looked like. The question was why did the boy need one.

“Ms. Bourgeois, I thought Mr. Agreste made it quite clear that Adrien was to spend today hanging out with you, per your request, and no one else.” The stern woman said when she caught sight of Marinette. She seemed like a personal assistant or other hired worker of whoever this ‘Mr. Agreste was’.

“I can leave if you want,” Marinette said, not wanting to step on any toes quite yet. She needed a better understanding of Paris, and who would be useful and not useful to play nice with, and pissing off someone who obviously had money and potentially influence, would go against that.

“That’s ridiculous. You’re my friend Marinette and so is Adrien. If I want to hang out with both of you then I should be able to. Tell Mr. Agreste to shove his over protectiveness . Marinette isn’t going to hurt Adrien and my floor is one of the safest places in Paris.” Chloe snapped. “Adrien is going to grow up and become an adult eventually. Mr. Agreste should be careful not to push and push until Adrien resents him.”

“Chloe,” the blond boy, Adrien, said He looked more and more uncomfortable the longer she spoke.

“Chloe, it’s fine. Mr. Agreste obviously has certain rules in place and I would hate to break them.” Marinette said, her voice firm. She turned to the assistant. “I’m sorry for any trouble I may have caused. While it would be nice to make more friends here in Paris, I can understand a parent not wanting their child to hang out with someone they do not know. I am however friends with Chloe,” something she wouldn’t have personally called them, especially not so soon, but Marinette was willing to go along with it, “and as such, there could be more situations in which she tries to hang out with both of us. As such I’d be willing to meet with Mr. Agreste so he could decide for himself whether I am someone he wants around his son, and I am sure my parents would agree with a meeting as well.”

The assistant looked at her, trying to see if she meant what she said, before nodding. “If you wish to give me your number I can talk with Mr. Agreste and see what he has to say. I will call if he is willing to have a meeting with you and your parents. Until then, I ask that you stay away from Adrien and leave if Chloe tries getting the three of you to hang out together.”

“Of course,” Marinette said.

A week later Marinette found herself with her parents, that was still a weird word to her, sitting in an office waiting for Mr. Agreste to arrive. Her parents seem impressed by the Agreste Mansion though Marinette found it to be an arbitrary display of wealth. The rooms were too large, the white and black theme of everything in the house was old and overused. The giant portrait of Agreste’s wife was an obvious rip off of the Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I, commonly known as The Women (or Lady) in Gold, which was just weird. At least be original with your art instead of ripping off a piece of stolen Jewish art.

From her research Gabriel Agreste was a famous fashion designer of the brand Gabriel in which his son, Adrien, was the main model and face for. Mr. Agreste had been a fashion designer since high school, designing and making clothing for his schools theater program. He eventually studied at the Royal College of Art in London where he graduated top of the class and worked for Alexander McQueen in London. He met his wife a few months before graduation, probably one of the reasons he stayed in London instead of moving back to Paris. He stayed with McQueen for a year before leaving to head back to Paris to start his own fashion company, with his now wife, then girlfriend, Emilie following. Around a year or two later he caught the attention of Chloe’s mother, Audrey Bourgeois, aka The Style Queen, skyrocketing him to fame. Within another year he was the Paris designer to watch, married and expecting a child. When his son was five, someone attacked him and his mother to try and ramson them for Gabriel's wealth. Since then the man has been quite the recluse.

Emilie Graham de Vanily grew up with money and wealth in London. Unlike her sister Amelie, it appeared from school reports and interviews that her upbringing didn’t go to her head, keeping a kind and compassionate heart even while surrounded by greed and vanity. She found a love of acting while in College. It was during a dress rehearsal for a small time play she was in that she met the designer behind the costumes, Gabriel Agreste and quickly fell in love. She supported his passion for fashion, encouraging him to start his own fashion house, resulting with her moving to his hometown of Paris. Once his career picked up, following the praise of Audrey Bourgeois, Emilie found herself agreeing to marry the man who had stolen her heart, the two starting a family not long after. During this time Emilie continued to act, mostly in smaller productions, happy to be the supporting partner in her relationship. Not long after giving birth to her son, she starred in the movie Solitude which became the film she was most well known for. When she and her son were attacked, she agreed with her husband to take a step out of the limelight, and while she was seen more than her husband, she still got the title of recluse added to her.

Marinette sat up straighter as she heard approaching footsteps. She gave her parents a pointed look causing the two to stop their conversation as they became aware of the approaching footsteps. They all stood as Gabriel and Emilie Agreste entered the room, Nathalie Sancoeur, who was Gabriel's personal assistant, followed a few steps behind them, staying by the exit, an ipad in her hand.

Her parents politely shook the other two parents hands, introducing themselves and Marinette before any of them sat again. Marinette took note of the fact that Emilie stayed standing behind her husband's chair, suggesting a submissive nature and that she was fine with following Gabriels lead. Her parents on the other hand, generally stood side by side unless one was better equipped to handle a topic, suggesting an equality between them. That did not suggest that there was anything wrong with having a more submissive and dominant relationship, it could offer just as much balance as an equal one giving the right conditions and a respect for all parties involved.

“I understand you wish to interact with my son.” Gabriel Agreste said, skipping over the niceties.

“Yes sir.” Marinette spoke before her parents could try and speak for her. “I befriended Chloe Bourgeois not that long ago and she is insisting that she spends time both with me and Adrien. I will be honest, I don’t mind the idea of making more friends,” it would help her fit in more, “but I understand that you have rules and I’ll understand if you don’t want me hanging out with Adrien after this meeting is over. I’ll even make sure Chloe doesn’t try to set anything up like she had tried to do last week.”

Mr. Agreste studied her, as if trying to see if she was lying. As if he’d be able to tell even if she had been. “I am glad you understand Ms. Dupain-Cheng. I take Adrien’s safety very seriously and do not wish to have any bad influences getting him in dangerous situations.”

Marinette smiled up at the man softly. “I understand. The world is a dangerous place. I have to say, I don’t know what I could say that would make you trust me.”

“I’m surprised to hear you admit that the world is a dangerous place.” Mr. Agreste told her. “Most children your age, my son included, seem to think themselves invincible.”

Marinette allowed her smile to become more rueful, “I’m can assure you Mr. Agreste, I am not ‘most child’.”

“What our Marinette means to say,” Tom Dupain spoke up. “She has had a bit of a rough childhood, and knows better than most that the world can be dangerous.”

“I assume you're alluding to the fact that she had been kidnapped as a young child.” Mr. Agreste said boldly. Someone wasn’t worried about upsetting people's feelings. He smiled at her parents' surprise. “I do background checks on every person my son comes into contact with. Marinette’s missing person file is the top result upon looking up her name. I assume congratulations are in order, since, while there are no news articles speaking of her miraculous return, that return still seems to be recent.”

“I was found collapsed in a park over a year ago,” Marinette explained to him. “I was rushed to a hospital where I was checked over and the doctors realized I had fallen into a coma. When I eventually awoke it was to discover that I was in my hometown, which I had no true memory of, and was reunited with my parents. I am still settling in, but it’s one of the reasons I wouldn’t mind more friends. I’ve never really had the chance to make some before.”

“That still doesn’t explain where you’ve been all this time.” Mr. Agreste pointed out.

Her mom spoke up for her when she refused to answer. “Marinette refuses to speak of her time away. The therapist that the police directed up to said it is likely the trauma she faced that makes her refuse to say anything and that we shouldn’t push her. I ask that you don’t either.”

Mr. Agreste looked at her curiously. “Don’t you wish to put the people who took you behind bars.”

Marinette kept with her act of saying nothing, refusing to react to what Mr. Agreste said to her. Not that she had one, no police force in the world would be able to take the Temple or the Order down, especially not with the League of Shadows hadding their own protection.

“As we said, Marinette does not speak of what happened to her.” Sabine repeated. “The police believe, after hearing everything the therapist got from reading Marinette’s body language and listening to what she would speak of, that the people who took her are the type of people who kidnap young children to raise as their own only to get rid of them once they start to get too old. That they likely abandoned her where they found her and left her to survive on her own. That she wouldn’t actually know any real facts or details that could help the police find them since they likely lived under fake names in a different part of France if not in a different country.”

“Do you agree with what your therapist and the police believe?” Mr. Agreste asked her.

She just continued to look at him. While having a friend and making a larger friend group in general would help her fit in more, she wasn’t about to tell them what actually happened or confirm any speculation when it could get any one of them killed and bring her unwanted attention.

Mr. Agreste just gave a little nod of his head. “That will be all. My assistant, Nathalie, will escort you out. You’ll be informed of our decision soon.”

The dismissal was clear. The trio left the house behind, her parents insuring her that Mr. Agreste was a [asshole] (not their words) and that she would make other friends in time. To not let that get her down.

Marinette just sighed internally, a part of her wishing she could go back to being Min, being Tianshi, encased in darkness with Nuri as her only company. At least then everything around her made sense.

Three days later, Marinette was once again in Chloe’s room when Adrien bust through the door, his bodyguard behind him.

“Chloe,” Marinette chided.

“I didn’t invite him,” Chloe insisted.

Adrien smiled widely at her as he handed her a note.

She opened it to see a note, typed not handwritten, stating:

Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I have come to a decision.

You shall be allowed to hand out with Adrien from this point forward.

Gabriel Agreste

Marinette looked back up to see a hand in front of her. Adrien was smiling widely at her, his hand stuck out for her to shake. She slowly reached her hand out and placed it in his.

“Hi!” he said excitedly. “My name is Adrien Agreste. I can’t wait for us to become friends.”

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desiraypark · 4 years

Text

When the Sun Sleeps in Canto Bight [10]

Previous Entire Series CHAPTER PLAYERS Ruby Girard Solo, The Beautiful Singer and Wife of Kylo Ren Leia Organa Solo, Kylo's Mother Kylo Ren aka Ben Solo, Leader of the Knights of Ren Sanya Solo, Kylo and Ruby’s Daughter (5) Ben “Little” Solo, Kylo and Ruby’s Son (4) Aida Solo, Kylo and Ruby’s Daughter (2) CHAPTER CONTENT (PLEASE READ, PLEASE HEED) Angst; depression (mother overwhelmed); couple’s argument. Domestic abuse TW (Spouse yanking spouse by their clothing; spouse talking down to spouse)

“Good evening, dear,” Leia said, opening the door. It was rare that she opened the door for herself. Ruby smiled at the sight--her regal, rich mother-in-law with her hair down, a mug of tea in her hand, and wearing a cashmere robe and slippers.

“Hi, Leia,” Ruby said, stepping inside.

“The children are asleep,” Leia said, suddenly whispered while closing the door. “I had to give them a little chamomile tea because I let them have a lot of cookies, I’m sorry.”

Ruby giggled. “What else are grandmas for?”

Leia led her into the study and turned back to Ruby on the way. “Exactly. Exactly.”

Sanya and Little were sprawled across Leia’s bearskin rug, and Aida was sleeping peacefully on the sofa. Big band music hummed from the large radio console. Ruby looked over each of them--reveling in their quiet and comfort, and sighed.

“Are you alright, Ruby?” Leia asked, slowly sitting on the sofa.

Ruby sighed again. “Yes, I’m fi--”

Leia shook her head profusely, slid to the middle of the sofa, and patted the end. Ruby tip-toed across the wooden floor and sat down.

“What’s wrong?”

Ruby took in a deep breath. “Why are they here?”

“Ben had something come up at work. As he calls it. He brought them here.”

Ruby nodded. “I’m with them all day, every day. I wake them up and most nights I put them to sleep. He finally gets a night with them and tosses them to the side because somebody forgot to pay somebody, or this, that, or the other…”

Ruby was more so speaking out loud, emptying her thoughts.

“Well, in his defense he did spend time with them. He took them for burgers and shakes. He didn’t just drop them off on me for no good reason...”

“He said he didn’t feel comfortable with me going back to the stage,” Ruby continued, barely hearing Leia. “Said he didn’t want to watch other men looking at me. But he’d love to stay home and spend time with the kids.”

Her eyes welled. “And he still dumped them off on someone else…”

Ruby buried her face in her hands and Leia wrapped her arms around.

“Hey, hey there.”

“I’m sorry,” Ruby sniffled. “I don’t know why I’m so emotional.”

“No need to apologize, dear. I understand,” Leia said, rubbing Ruby’s back. “Look. If you ever need to get away, you know where to come.”

Ruby continued sniffling.

“Don’t let that spoiled brat of mine make you feel caged in,” Leia said. Ruby chuckled. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Ruby answered, nodding against Leia’s chest.

____________________

Click.

The lamp on Kylo’s side of the bed flicked on. Ruby listened to him peel out of his clothing and shoes. The floorboards creaked and she opened her eyes, watching his large form tip-toe out of the room. She heard the water running in the bathroom and the soft sound of a cloth rubbing against skin and body hair.

About five minutes later, the water stopped, and Kylo walked back into the room. His eyes fell on Ruby’s and he jumped. “Fuckin’ hell,” he mumbled. He laughed to himself, walked over to the bed, and kissed Ruby on the forehead.

“How was the show?” He walked over to the other side of the bed but there was no response. “Ruby?”

“It was nice.”

The room went dark with another click and the mattress dipped behind Ruby. The scent of soap neared her nostrils and she felt his warmth on her back. Kylo kissed her on the cheek.

“Thanks for picking the kids up,” he said.

“What was so important that you needed to drop them off at your mother’s?” Ruby asked.

Kylo fell on his back and sighed, still oblivious to Ruby’s frustration. “A big fight broke out in one of the clubs. Police had to come and break it up. Then, they started sniffin’ around…”

“So you dumped your children off at your mother’s for a club fight?” Ruby asked. She sat up and looked down at Kylo--what she could see of him in the dark. “And you were there all night long?”

“First of all, I wasn’t there all night long, and yes I dropped them off at my mom’s. You thought I was gonna take them to the fuckin’ lounge?”

“If I’d have told you I dumped the kids off somewhere to go record a song or do a show you’d fucking curse me out,” Ruby growled.

Kylo sat up. “Can you stop sayin’ “dump” like I just fuckin’ threw the kids on my mom’s porch and left? I ain’t out here singin’ songs. I’ve got real business shit I need to take care to keep you in this nice house and decked out in your custom dresses.”

“There we go,” Ruby mumbled, turning on her lamp.

“There we go, what?”

“Every time I question you about anything, you’ve gotta throw what you do for me back in my face. I can do well for my damn self, Kylo.”

Kylo slid back down in the bed. “Yeah, okay. Sure, Doll.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ruby asked.

Kylo turned his back to her. “Nothin’. Go to sleep.”

Ruby chuckled.

“You just can’t take it. It’s not the men you’re worried about. I can do very well for myself and you can’t take it. You thought you were gonna keep me barefoot and pregnant, and that my career was gonna fade--and yet, I’m still doing well for myself. And you hate it.”

“Okay, Ruby.”

“Every time I have a baby, I get right back to where I started and it kills you. You didn’t think people were gonna want to see me back on stage. You didn’t think my music was gonna be all over the radio. You didn’t think--”

Kylo sat up, grabbed the bust of Ruby’s nightgown, and yanked her close. She yelped and tried to push away, but Kylo yanked her close.

“Your music is on the radio because Sheev makes them play it. He pulls the strings at Sidious Records,” he said through clenched teeth. “You got that gig tonight because I told the promoter to reach out to you.”

Kylo saw the fear and hurt fill Ruby’s eyes, and he let her go. She shook her head and cried.

“That’s not true,” she whimpered.

“I wish I was lyin’, Babydoll,” he said, yanking the covers back. He stood up and grabbed his pillows. “The only people who’ve been payin’ and requestin’ to hear music about bein’ depressed and poor and fucked up, are depressed, poor, and fucked up people.”

Ruby’s vision became blurry as more tears filled her eyes and Kylo walked to the door. He stopped and turned around.

“Oh, but they’re buying it up now, Doll. With the credit depression and all. Me and Sheev may not have to keep lying to you after all,” he said, pressing the knife in further with an artificial smile on his face.

Ruby sniffled and wiped her eyes. Then, Kylo stepped back into the room with a finger pointed to her.

“Don’t you ever accuse me of bein’ fuckin’ jealous of you when every fuckin’ thing I do is for you and those kids.”

Kylo stormed out of the bedroom and slammed the door behind him, leaving Ruby heartbroken and alone--her face hot and prickled by the sting of her salty tears.

#when the sun sleeps in canto bight

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ofcecilia · 4 years

Photo

⌠ DAISY EDGAR-JONES, 20, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, CECILIA CASIRAGHI! according to their records, they’re a FIRST year, specializing in SEDUCTION & FLIRTATION + LINGUISTICS, CULTURE & ASSIMILATION; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (pink satin sheets, the warm glow of a sunrise, the first pour of a bottle of red wine, unflinching doe eyes). when it’s the (capricorn)’s birthday on 1/13/01, they always request CANNOLIS from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ deanna, 25, she/her, est ⍀

NAME: Cecilia Anastasia Casiraghi

KNOWN AS: Cecilia, Celia, Cissy

BIRTHDATE: January 13, 2001

ASTROLOGY: Capricorn sun / Virgo moon / Pisces rising

HOMETOWN: Tuscania, Italy

RESIDENCE: London, England

GENDER: Cis female ( she/her )

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

HEIGHT: 5'7"

HAIR COLOR: Dark Brown

EYE COLOR: Dark Brown

TATTOOS: None

KNOWN LANGUAGES: English, Italian, Russian, French, Spanish

IMMEDIATE FAMILY:

Allegra Casiraghi: Mother, currently in jail

Federico Casiraghi: Father, currently in jail

Salvatore Casiraghi: Eldest brother

Niccolo Casiraghi: Second eldest brother

Anya Casiraghi: Elder sister

ABOUT:

Born Cecilia Anastasia Casiraghi, the baby of the Casiraghi family. You know them and you hate them, real asshat parents who value money and prestige over actually being nice to their kids. It's hard not to grow up despising your parents in that setting, though Cecilia would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the being rich part of it all. Still, it wasn't worth the pressure and scrutiny she received from her parents.

She grew up in a giant castle in Italy where she liked to pretend she was a princess trapped in the highest tower waiting to be rescued. Cecilia watched her older siblings seem so put together and polished, exactly what their parents wanted them to be, and couldn't help but feel isolated from the rest of her family ( though her older brother Nico was her fave ) . The older she got, the longer she waited for things to snap into place, only to be met with disappointment.

She got more rebellious as she got older, which didn't bode well in the Casiraghi household. Her father tried to break her spirit, which in turn only made her angier, causing her to run away when she was sixteen. She didn't leave so much of a note to her family, but she knew if they wanted to find her, they'd have the resources to do so. They didn't.

She struggled once moving to London, because a rich girl isn't exactly great at not being rich, but she had been saving up stolen money from her parents for a few months before leaving, so she had enough to find herself a place to live while she worked odd jobs here and there. She wanted to focus on art, her passion, the one thing her family had always told her she was good at ( though they also said it wasn't practical ) . But, surprise surprise, art is NOT practical, and nobody wanted to buy paintings from an actual nobody.

The story goes that she struggled for about a year before making connections with a local art gallery to hold a week-long exhibit of her work. There she made a few sales on her art, though the most noteworthy one had been selling a self-portrait to a wealthy older man who took a liking to Cecilia and decided to fund her art career, and her lifestyle. From then on she lived the glamorous city life she had been destined for, only realizing recently that art and partying can only get her so far. She had begun to miss the world she had been born into, even if she didn't miss the family that came with it. So Celia reached out to a few old contacts, and was able to secure herself a spot at Gallagher Academy in the fall. Despite the drama of her parents being arrested for tax evasion and fraud, she found that the name Casiraghi still holds some weight in the spy world.

WARNING: TOP SECRET INFORMATION

The reality of the situation is that even with the money Celia had stolen from her parents, her life was nowhere close to the one she used to live, and being poor kind of got old. Plus she still had this BURNING anger towards her parents, partly for letting her leave so easily.

She had been living on her own for almost a year, and what little money she had left was slowly depleting. She had been one level above rock bottom when a faculty member of Caledonia Institute found her. Though she had no interest in returning to the spy world, they had fed into her ego that her being a part of their team was IMPERATIVE, and in return they would give her back the life she once had, while making her parents suffer. How could she say no to that?

At only seventeen she was one of the youngest to enroll in Caledonia, and she became a professional spy in the process. She'd have to sit through two years of training and schooling before getting an active mission, but training at Caledonia -- while strict -- was unlike the harsh treatments she was used to from training with her family. With a new outlook on the spy world, Cecilia began to enjoy it once more, and it helped that she was good at it.

Mr. Stewart of Caledonia had promised her that her parents would pay for their sins, and in the spring he had upheld his end of the bargain. Her parents were caught and tried for tax evasion and fraud, and she heard through the grapevine that they'll be going to jail for a long time. Though she wasn't sure what this means for her siblings, Celia was just glad karma finally bit them in the ass.

Conveniently after they're arrested, Mr. Stewart gave Cecilia an assignment for the fall : everyone knows about Cole Conner's Gallagher Academy assignment from last fall, and how he's garnered less-than-stellar results. So she’s been enrolled as an incoming first year, returning to the spy world with a story weaved of her glamorous life in London, ready to pay off her debts to Caledonia without hesitation.

PERSONALITY:

Celia is a total chameleon, able to morph her image and personality when needed in social situations. It's how she makes herself easily likable and gets people to let her in easily, though her doe eyes certainly don't hurt. She makes it easy for people to get wrapped up in her storytelling and the lies she spins for the sake of getting on other's good sides. Not only is she good at it, but she gets off on the thrill of it, because it's fun pretending to be someone you're not ! Whatever you want her to be, she can be it.

Underneath the surface, Cecilia is truly a spoiled brat who likes getting her way and winning, and once in a while parts of that haughtiness will break through the cracks of her facade. Caledonia had worked hard to take the rebel out of the girl, but parts of it still appear on occasion, though never against her agency.

Above everything, she's trying not to make waves while in Gallagher, to go by undetected, so the easiest way to describe her would be Nice. ( This might change while I play her so we’ll see welp. )

TL;DR: She's Nico's younger sister ! But ran away from her family when she was sixteen because she hates them, and at her lowest point Caledonia Institute swooped in and saved her ( and also got her parents arrested and made them lose their money whomp whomp ) and now she's a double agent working for them. She’s looking to make friends with everyone who’s anyone at Gallagher. Two-faced bitch but ya gotta love her ? Or don't, you probably shouldn't.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

She’s going to be meticulously crafting her own inner circle of friends for her own enjoyment at Gallagher, a mix of people from influential families and those who are deemed “popular” or worth having around, please send headshots and a resume if ur interested xoxo

Family friends of the Casiraghi family, who she hasn’t seen in at least three years.

Other students who trained with her siblings in the super super exclusive training program her parents ran.

Those she's crossed paths with living in London for a year: friends, flings, fellow artists, coworkers at her crappy jobs, etc.

Fellow first years she can glom onto for automatic friendships right off the bat, regardless of who they are

Legacy family students she can cozy up to for the sake of her job

Someone who is reluctant to trust her, despite her attempts to befriend them/get on their good side

Someone with a crush on her that can sorta see how malleable her personality and is like? But show me the real you?

A no-strings relationship that’s purely physical

Someone she’s stringing along for the sake of getting close and getting information out of them

An upperclassman mentor figure to show her the ropes of Gallagher and help her acclimate

A ride or die that she feels a kinship with, where they click enough that she can be more like herself ( aka a little bitchy )

Someone with a really optimistic/romantic outlook on life that truly tests Cecilia’s efforts to match their enthusiasm

Fellow artists she can spend her free time painting in the gardens with and help her get back into it

Fellow LCA + S&F majors who she’ll either have in her classes or that can give her some class pointers or offer their old notes to her

Someone she got drunk with and maybe let something slip that she shouldn’t have and now it’s awk

Someone weak-willed that she can easily take advantage of/manipulate into doing things for her

Fellow smokers even though I don’t condone the habit!

I have some things on her pinterest page here for inspo, also this tag

Lit rally anything please hmu !

#gallagher:intro #sorry this is the worlds longest intro #there's a tl;dr at the end that's worth it i promise #leaving this here xx

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x-spooks · 3 years

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Just Right. (Got7 AU) Ep. 1

This is going to be a tugboat of a love storyline. Your name is Inez-Mi. Your stage name is Nyx. You’re the newest member of an existing K-Pop girl group, Goddess, who happens to be under JYP. You’re replacing the leader who left abruptly and under shh, shh, circumstances. This is my first post so if you have questions/concerns/comments please fell free.

Sweat ran trails down the curvature of your neck, disappearing under the collar of your plain black T. It clung to your tacky skin leaving nothing to the imagination. Your chest heaved as your lungs were forced to take sharp scorching breaths. You were definitely questioning your sanity as you stared at your reflection and those of your fellow members. You weren't Asian slim. You weren't build for show. You weren't quite athletic either. Nope. You were comparing yourself to the 4'10" to 5'5", 90 to 100lbs, flawless Koreans, Chinese, and Japanese dolls. The instructor snapped his fingers. "Nyx, you're delayed half a step." He voiced annoyed in Hangul. "I'll improve." You breathed. Your smoky gray eyes met his black ones. You lowered your gaze and bowed deeply. He narrowed his eyes while a hiss of disbelief left his thin lips. Mister Cho had made his disapproval painfully clear. Specially in front of your fellow members and the big wigs. If it wasn't for your father's reputation and name you would've bounced after two days. But you were a Moon. A daughter of an Idol turned famous producer/Actor who gave his free time to excel a company he was a board member to, JYP Entertainment. You rose from your bow. "Again." Mister Cho demanded. Over dramatized groans filled the practice room. A Korean member, Song-I, mouthed a few curses about you being a foreigner and something about choking you to death. A laugh busted from your pouters lip. You weren't one to flex, but you wouldn't take anything physical from anyone specially Song-I dramatic whiny no having ass. "Moon Inez-Mi!" Mister Cho yelled. "Are you wasting all of our time?" Your laugh died in the back of your throat at hearing your full name, "No, Sir." You military straightened your spine. "Everyone dismissed expect Nyx." He growled with impatience, "You stay here until you get it right." You nodded refusing to get upset. You bit hard on your inner lip until you tasted iron. You waited until everyone was long gone before you let your frustration leave you. Your lungs took in a long stinging pull of air. Instead of trying to break your knuckles against the wall of mirrors, You counted backwards from hundred letting your breath leave your chest slowly. After a good five minutes, You walked over to the sound system and snatched up the remote. You stabbed the play button. Music pumped out of the giant speakers arranged in the far corners. You started to do the mind numbingly simple steps. You felt like such a sale out to your gender. Women in history fought tooth and nail to not be seen as walking sex and how you were flushing their progress down the toilet. With every movement your voluminous curves gave way more than your full Asian members. You needed to talk to your Dad. You shoved all those thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. Listening closely to the music you continued to dance. You sighed at your reflection after dancing to the same track fifteen times. But You finally got the timing right. Your hands found your slim waist. You did a side turn. You stared at your side profile through the mirrors. Your butt and bust were big even with the tight sports wear. You kinda wished you took after your dad more. But your mom's Mesoamerican/north-western European genes were definitely dominate at least in you. Your eyes were large, circular with smoky gray iris and a deep double lid. Your skin tone was pale with pink undertones. A body that definitely had a Mexican flare. You did have your dad's full pouty lips, delicate nose and his cheek bones. You shook your head. "Fuck this." You sighed in English. You weren't ever going to be one of them. Movement caught your attention. You assumed it was your Dad checking in. He did it from time to time making all the other girls swoon. You let out another sigh, before masking your frustration. "Dad, your avid admirer are not here." Your perfect pitched Hangul voice was stinky with sweet sarcasm. "Dad?" Through the mirror, your eyes settled on a much younger man. He was handsome in a classic Korean drama way. It was then you noticed a few other guys staring in at you over his broad shoulders. They were all handsome in their own right. Your face went from white to scarlet in your embarrassment. You bowed deeply as you turned to face them. You tried to recall their names. "Please. Forgive my tone." You rose as she spoke in Hangul. K-Drama onyx eyes were cold as he took you in. You forced your expression to stay neutral. "I did not mean to be disrespectful." You tacked on. "Moon's daughter?" The tallest one asked not to you, but to K-Drama who had casually leaned in the door jam. He nodded slowly with a blank expression, but his eyes were steady and unyielding. Had you pissed him off before? "You must need the room." You forced yourself to blink so you wouldn't be staring at their stunning faces. GOT7, you suddenly remembered. "Please excuse me. I will leave you be." You rushed over to the equipment stand and set the remote back. "I heard you can do gymnastics?" One asked in perfect English. You glanced over your shoulder and nodded slightly, "I did participate when I was younger." You confessed in Hangul as you turned towards the sound of a masculine voice. Mark. Of course, you would remember the only American other than yourself. Well that was a lie you had a duel citizenship. He slipped past K-Drama and did a front aerial like it was as easy as touching his toes. He landed a few feet away from you. A smile took over your features as you gently clapped. Your embarrassment started to melt away. You took a good four steps forward and force your body to preform a back flip. You landed it out of pure muscle memory. You even did the proper posture for sticking it. You shook her head at your silliness. "I am Goddess's Nyx." You bowed again. A few loose strands of navy blue hair fell into your eyes and framed your face. You rose to see the members who were in the hall were now in the dance studio. K-drama didn't budge. He was still leaning against the width of the door observing.

Mark's smile could be heard in his voice as he introduced the members that were present. "The one still in the doorway is Jinyoung. Yugyeom is the tall one. That's Jackson."

You slightly bowed your head to Jinyoung and Yugyeom.

When your eyes moved to Jackson, he did a front flip so strong he landed in the super hero pose.

A genuine laugh left you as you slow clapped, "I wager your admirers appreciate it extremely." She teased in Hangul.

"You know it." He smiled as he rose from his stance.

K-drama aka Jinyoung voice killed the mood, "Mark."

"Hmm?" Mark glanced over to the door.

Jinyoung made the slightest motions that you barely see out from the corner of your eye.

"Are you following me?" You were suddenly distracted by the sting of annoyance in your older brother and New Manager of Goddess, voice as it seeped into the dance studio from the hall. "Why would I follow you?" A deep male voice countered with venom sharpening his every syllable. "I belong here. You. You're just the spoiled brat to a withered idol who hasn't got it through his thick skull his time has long since past." Jinyoung slammed the door. Not only shutting himself out into the hall, but also silencing the argument. "I don't know who that is, but they're in for a rude awakening." You dropped your beyond proper Hangul and picked up your American English. You started for the door. "That's our leader." Mark offered slightly annoyed himself. You stopped in mid-step. "What?" You glanced over to him. "Let me apology for him. JB and your Father aren't fans of each other." He offered hesitantly. "It boiled over today." Jackson offered. Your eyes went to Jackson then to the door while you wondered what had happened between JB and your dad. Everyone loved your dad or so you thought. A sharp clap gathered all of their attention, "While they finish their yelling contest let's see who can land the most moves." Yugyeom suggested in Hangul, "I'll keep score." "I'm in." Jackson and Mark said in unison. Their attention moved to you once you didn’t say anything. Jackson started to do a pleading puppy dog thing with his face. Mark smiled the sweetest smile and Yugyeom was laying the aegyo on thick. You playfully rolled your eyes while shaking your head. "The one with the least amounts of completions must purchase ice cream." You challenged in Hangul as you walked to the far side of the room. Sounds of agreement shot into the air. "Are we to perform the exact combination or a particular combination we have the most success with?" You called over your shoulder. "Best at." They agreed. "No simple combinations." You shot out in a playfully stern tone. You turned your back to the wall. You only had to wait a few seconds for Jackson and Mark to be next to you. "Ladies before gentlemen." You smiled. You took in a deep breath and made your Nikes do a few quick steps to get momentum. You forced your body to do a roundoff back tuck. You stuck it only to be abruptly face to face with a man who was beyond pissed. Your light eyes quickly took in his features. Two beauty marks above his left eye. His handsome features were set in a brooding expression. You would bet he always looked slightly intimidating. The little girl in you was instantly attracted. Like how you would fall for the rich bad boy in all those mangas you read in your pre-teens. You saw your brother was shoulder to shoulder with him from your peripheral. Well, as close as a 6'3" could be to a 5'11". You smiled a polite smile, but blatantly ignoring their combined attitude and turned on the heels of your Nikes. "Who proceeding?" "Inez-Mi." Your brothers voice was firm. "Il-Gun." You turned to face him but continued walking backwards towards Mark and Jackson. "Its time to go." He spoke in Hangul through clenched teeth. You didn't stop walking, "Sweet, smooth, satisfying ice cream is the reward." You voiced in Hangul as you felt the wall at your back. You leaned against it in a relaxed pose. You looked to Mark and Jackson then simply motioned for the next one to go. They didnt budge. You looked to the man next to your brother. You tried to keep your face neutral. His dark gaze locked onto her gray ones. If looks could kill. His kicked out chin and grimacing lips would make anyone with sense scurry. But did you have any? Nope. Your American arrogance kicked in. "Most honorable Lim Jae-Beom," You said in your sweetest Hangul tone, "you're going to receive lock jaw if you keep clenching your teeth and pushing out your chin like such." Your foreigner feature were set in a concerned expression. Mark, Jackson, and Yugyeom burst out laughing but quickly zipped their lips under JBs murderous stare. Jinyoung disguised his laugh as an awkward cough somewhere out of sight. "Now!" Gun snapped. You leaned off the wall unfazed by his anger and started towards them. You turned on your heels but continued to walk backwards "Forfeit means you owe me bubble tea." You smiled speaking English to Mark, Jackson and Yugyeom. Jackson confirmed with a kind expression. Mark flashed his famous smile and nodded. Yugyeom was red from trying to hold in his laughter. You turned and stopped in your steps. You were a few feet from the brooding twins. You bowed to JB and Gun, "It was a honor to meet you and please excuse my disobedience I did not mean to be disrespectful," You slowly rose with a soft demeanor. You turned at the waist slightly and waved goodbye at the guys. You even made a point to wave to Jinyoung who was casually sitting on the couch behind JB and Gun. His view point was perfect, you thought. He could watch everything unfold without being in the line of fire. You went out into the hall but before Gun shut the door behind him. You heard JB’s deep voice ask, "Why is she speaking like she's a descendant of royalty?" He was definitely angry. You laughed walking ahead of your brother. "Inez," Guns voice filled the hall, "this isn't funny." He growled, "Pissing off JB isn't worth the headache nor the ear full you're going to get from Dad. You need to learn your place." You rolled your eyes hard. "I can't comprehend the reason why?" Your voice caught some of his sassy tone. "Your my Guardian when father is not hovering. So would it not be you who receives father's wrath for not keeping me in my quote unquote place." The squeaking of his teeth grinding meant you had gone too far. "It's on Goddess' schedule for you to get ready for a radio interview." He talked through his teeth. You stopped in your steps until Gun was beside you, "I’m sorry." Your dared a glance up to Guns’ profile. "I did not intend to shove back so hard." An angry smile took hold of his intimidation features. "Dad didn't risk his neck and name for you to fuck this up. You are now the newest member and Leader of Goddess." He started walking so fast that you could barely keep up. "Start acting like it." You wanted to lash out. To scream at him that you had avoided the Idol path with college and spending time in the state's with our mom. But it wouldn't help you. You would come across as whiney, pathetic, and unmanageable. Gun was right, anyways. Their dad found a way to make lemonade out of a scandalous situation. A situation that was being covered up even within JYP Entertainment. Only the higher ups knew what happened and they weren't talking. All you were privy to was you were Goddess' Hail Mary pass. JYP Entertainment was going to drop the girl group, when your dad made the move to drag his 'multi-talented' daughter into the mix. You rolled your eyes hard as you remembered the press release. You were so lost in thought, you bashed into a slim, tall figure as you rounded the corner, "Excuse me," you bowed your head. "My apologies." Your embarrassment was written on your face as your eyes gazed up to a pair of grey, blue irises. "No," The well dressed man paused once he saw Gun. He sized him up with a cold expression, "Excuse me. I'm late and wasn't paying attention." His voice was lighter than You would have guessed. He bowed while side stepping. "Its all for show." An amused smile tugged on your lips as you spoke English. Your eyes settled on his handsome face as he rose. "Nyx?" He asked with a spark of recognition in his eye and finger gun pointing at you. You nodded with a kind smile. You thought of Got7 and remembered Mark and Jackson weren’t the only regular English speaker. "Bam Bam?" You countered. You definitely liked how his expression reflect his mood. There was no way he was Korean. A cocky smirk took over his full lips. "You might want to count to ten and mentally prepare yourself." You commented with some regret lingering in your voice. He arched a well manicured brow in confusion while losing his smile. "I might've," you paused thinking of a nice way to say you straight out disrespected his leader, "danced on JB’s last nerve." His full lips broke into a grin, "No worries." He laughed, "we do it all the time-" "BamBam." Gun voiced annoyed clearly ready to get out of here. He bowed his head in the slightest way. You sighed under your breath, "Gun-Hulk Smash." You felt Guns grip on your wrist. You had to resist ripping it out of his hand. You glanced down at your combined flesh. You were unimpressed. You softened your expression when your eyes found BamBam. "I am behind in my schedule as well it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance," you spoke in Hangul as you bowed again. "Good luck." Gun started walking while pulling you with him. "You too," BamBam smiled a kind smile that reached his eyes. His expression soured at Gun as you was tugged away. Once you two made it to the elevator, you tore your wrist from his grasp. Your light eyes narrowed as you stabbed your index finger into the up arrow. You wanted to say something, anything clever to make it clear he wasn't your guys Father, but nothing came to mind. The elevator dinged open. You got in after Gun. You went to the buttons and poked the floor you needed. While the doors were shutting you saw BamBam watching you two. You smiled a polite smile and waved.

#got7 au #got7 fanfic #got7fanfiction #jb #mark #jackson #park jinyoung #youngjea #bambam #yugyeom #kpop fanfic #got7 #lovestory

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missjosie27 · 4 years

Text

Character Profile: David Grant

Decided to update formally David’s info. Thank you @hogwartsmysterystory for the template. Actual pic of MC to follow!

HPHM Profile

Age 17

Identity

Name: David John Grant

Gender: Male

Age: 11-17 throughout the series

Birth Date: January 16th, 1973

Species: Human

Blood Status: Pure-Blood

Sexuality: Straight

Alignment: Neutral Good

Ethnicity: Caucasian (white)

Nationality: British

Residence: Bath, England (U.K.)

Myer Briggs Personality Type: ESFP

The Mage

1st Wand: Blackthorn, 10 inches, unicorn hair

2nd Wand: Ebony, 11 ¾ inches, dragon heartstring

Animagus: N/A

Misc Magical Abilities: Legilimens, Occlumens, Expert Dueler, Master of Transfiguration

Boggart Form: Voldemort standing over the dead body of his brother

Riddikulus Form: Overweight Voldemort slipping on a banana peel and falling on his ass

Amortentia: Fresh laundry, morning dew, citrus shampoo

Amortentia: nail polish, cloves, a British garden, something elusive (aka Merula)

Patronus: A Grizzly Bear (will sometimes appear as a blackbird when alongside his wife)

Patronus Memory: A memory of Jacob expressing brotherly love and will always be there for him

Mirror of Erised: His family whole and happy again, later on this includes Merula by his side holding his hand

Specialized/Favourite Spells: Reducto, Melofors Jinx (pumpkin head), Protegus Maximus (will stop most dark curses except the Unforgivables),

Appearance

Faceclaim: young Tom Delonge from blink-182

Height: 6’1

Weight: 170 pounds

Physique: lean

Eye Colour: hazel-blue

Hair Colour: dark brown

Skin Tone: fair

Body Modifications: none

Scarring: plenty when he’s an auror but none while at Hogwarts

Inventory: wand, guitar pick, picture of Merula, holster, pack of gum, and a watch

Allegiances

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Ilvermorny House: Wampus

Affiliations/Organizations: Hogwarts Alumni, Auror Office, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Official Guns N’ Roses fan club, ally of the Order of the Phoenix, The British Commonwealth

Professions: Auror, vigilante

Hogwarts Information

Class Proficiencies:

· Astronomy: 4/10 (P)

· Charms: 5/10 (A)

· DADA: 9/10 (O)

· Flying: 7/10 (E)

· Herbology: 8/10 (E)

· History of Magic: 3/10 (D)

· Potions: 7/10 (E)

· Transfiguration: 10/10 (O)

Electives: Care of Magical Creatures (later switches to Divination), Ancient Runes

Quidditch: Plays beater during years 6 and 7 at the behest of Charlie Weasley

Extra Curricular: Gryffindor Quidditch Team , Weird Sisters Fan Club, Dueling Club

Favorite Professors: Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, Bill Weasley (temporary fill in)

Least Favorite Professors: Professor Binns

Relationships

Brother: Jacob Elias Grant

-Three years older than David (b. late 1969)

-Fair complexion

-medium brown hair

-Blue eyes

-Also a legilimens

-5’9 in height

-Jacob Grant is a brave, bold, but extraordinarily reckless wizard who let his obsession with finding the cursed vaults cost him his education and family. As a youth, he was fun loving and often played with his young brother three years, teaching him many things. His disappearance was felt severely by the Grant family, especially after it was rumored Jacob went mad and joined Voldemort. This latter accusation proved to be untrue, but when he is released from the portrait vault, he is severely changed by the experience and slightly unhinged, dead set in seeking revenge on Rakepick and R.

Father: John Grant

-b. 1945 at the end of WW2

-sons inherited his very dark brown hair

-slightly ruddy faced

-hazel eyes

-six feet tall, well built

-works in the Department of Magical Cooperation, one of the envoys to the United States

-John Grant is a competent, reasonable wizard of fair judgement and sound mind. One of the reasons he was chosen to become an envoy was due to his exceptional ability to reason with people and engage them in compromise or mutually beneficial deals. Relations with the United States have improved remarkably under his tenure after tensions during the first British Civil War. However, in the absence of his eldest son he has become somewhat withdrawn and tired, speaking very little on anything besides work or sports. Currently in a strained marriage, John knows his wife is slowly getting worse but he does not have the means to calm or assuage her, causing further stress on him.

Mother: Elizabeth Grant (nee MacMillan)

-b. 1947

-blonde hair

-blue eyes (Jacob inherited this)

-considered one of the most attractive witches during her time at Hogwarts

-5’5 and thin

-runs her own tea shop in London

-Elizabeth Grant was once a good natured, enthusiastic, driven young witch who loved her sons and her family. Originally hailing from the Macmillan clan, her stable upbringing did not spoil her as it did with other wealthy families such as the Malfoys. She possesses a high energy and entrepreneurial spirit when at her best and combined with her natural maternal instincts made for a very fine tea shop which she runs in the heart of London, serving wizard and muggle alike. Losing Jacob, however, caused Elizabeth to turn for the worse. Blaming herself for the incident that led to him disappearing, she raised David in a far stricter environment, never allowing him twenty feet outside the house unless it was a family gathering. Over the years, she has become more high strung and controlling due to her fear, something that David comes to heavily resent and even despise as he grows into his teen years.

Love Interest: Merula Snyde

-In the beginning to mention the name ‘David Grant’ around Merula would usually result in the nearest object being thrown at your head. As a complicated, angry child of locked up Death Eaters, she saw David as a target to try and torment, but when he wouldn’t back down or take her seriously, it only served to infuriate her more.

-From then on, Merula would always try to sabotage David’s efforts to find the vaults (or do anything to make his life difficult), seeking to find their power for herself. But time and again she was thwarted by him and his growing group of friends while she found herself increasingly alone. Her incessant need for attention yet unwillingness to treat anyone with kindness wore thin on the rest of her peers very quickly. For his part, David thought nothing of Merula, dismissing her as a power-hungry, petulant brat who he wanted as far away as possible.

-This didn’t change until year 4, when Merula first starts to make an effort to alter her previous ways, beginning to question what her parents had taught her.

-In a strange way, they begin to challenge each other. David assists her in learning the Patronus Charm while she helps him in facing off against an angry Centaur. When spooked and tricked by a mysterious hooded figure, Merula tells him not to give up his search and to keep going. The true turning point is when they go to the ball together, which is where the seed of true feelings starts to blossom. By the end of the semester both develop crushes on the other.

-The begin to informally, then formally date during Year 5. After the events of the portrait vault, Merula becomes withdrawn and angry once more and David, emotionally unstable himself, can’t handle it causing them to break up. However, after some serious soul searching, David is able to convince her to try again and this time they both make concerted efforts to be more communicative and supportive.

-By the end of Hogwarts, they are happily in love and end up marrying in 1996.

Best Friends: Charlie Weasley, Penny Haywood

Rival: Merula Snyde (formerly), Ismelda Murk

Enemy: Patricia Rakepick, R, Death Eaters

Dormmates: Rowan Khanna, Ben Copper, Charlie Weasley, Jae Kim

Pets: None

Closest Canon Friends: Charlie Weasley, Penny Haywood, Rowan Khanna, Ben Copper, Tulip Karasu, Nymphadora Tonks, Barnaby Lee, Andre Egwu

Closest MC Friends: None yet but hoping to make some!

Background/History

· David lived a rather blissful existence in his first eight years of life. His parents were happily married, lived comfortably and he idolized his brother beyond measure. However, that changed dramatically after Jacob’s disappearance and unable to understand what had happened, David felt it was somehow his fault that he no longer saw his older brother. Unbeknownst to him, both his mother and father blamed themselves as well, causing a strain in their marriage and his next three years before Hogwarts to become bleak and uneventful.

· Upon arrival at the famed school of witchcraft and wizardry, David developed a wisecracking, sarcastic, yet talented reputation as a wizard full of precociousness and intelligence. He saw Hogwarts as an opportunity to see something new and different. Though he had been warned not to try and find Jacob or resume his mission to find the vaults, David, through events outside of his control was slowly drawn into the search himself, the aching to see his brother too strong to ignore.

· As more curses are broken and his reputation increases, David begrudgingly accepts his resident position of ‘curse-breaker’, something he sees as insignificant compared to finding his brother. However, as his curse breaking becomes more prominent, so do other aspects of his personality- his cockiness, vanity, wit, and his overall skill as a wizard. He joins the dueling club and quickly establishes himself as one of the best in the school.

· Through it all, David also continues to harbor a guilt complex regarding his brother which turns to anger and frustration after he finds Jacob in the portrait vault only to witness just how unstable he is. This, along with numerous events in Year 6 lead David to reevaluate and later reinvent himself, defeating R and later helping his broken family to become whole again.

· David becomes an Auror after graduation, being formally inducted in 1994 along with Tonks. He later marries Merula Snyde two years later. Though he does not join the Order, he is willing to look the other way and even assist Moody and Tonks in order to help their cause.

· The second British Civil War is a tumultuous, traumatic period for David. Merula is kidnapped by her parents (recently released from Azkaban) and he has no idea where to find her. When the Ministry falls, David immediately resigns from his job and becomes an international vigilante/bounty hunter, scrapping a living off hits and capturing wanted witches and wizards. His travels take him to New York, Normandy, Berlin, and even Russia, but each target he seeks bears his mission in mind: to find his wife.

· David locates Merula and manages to set her free during the Battle of Hogwarts. As it turned out, she was gang pressed into servicing Voldemort and though she is forced to do his bidding, secretly undermines the Death Eaters in small pivotal ways that ended up being crucial for the light side. As a favor to David and due to testimony from Lucius Malfoy, Merula is spared Azkaban by Minister Shacklebolt. Both of their internal wounds take time to heal, so they end up renewing their vows and resume building their life together.

· By the year 2005, he and his wife are happily married once more and have three small children.

Personality

· David is a wisecracking, sarcastic, witty person who uses humor as a defense mechanism in his early days at Hogwarts but later takes on a life of its own. He is openly friendly and outgoing, enjoying the company of people he considers to be his friends, though he will turn serious when needed.

· He is a bold person who has perfected the art of setting aside fear in favor of decisive, even spontaneous action as needed. He is not a glory seeker like some in his house, but he has no trouble showing bravery and even a defiance of the rules when deemed necessary.

· David has a naturally caring side and is often a good listener when one of his friends has a problem that needs to be talked out or solved. He is slow to anger and though he gives little regard to subjects he hates, succeeds academically in his strong areas.

· On the flip side, David has a vain, cocky streak, especially when it comes to his natural talents. Due to lack of warmth at home and from Merula, he can become quite lustful when it comes to girls.

· David’s temper is a combination of his parents. It’s difficult to provoke him, but if one does, his anger locks him into steely-eyed, cold blooded rage that is not pleasant to witness.

· Finally, David harbors a guilt complex and will gladly focus and deflect to something else when pressed about his personal problems. It is partially for this reason he is such a good listener to his friends, as it distracts him from inner feelings of shame, hurt, and anger.

Misc (will be continually updated)

· During Frog Choir auditions, Tulip encouraged him to sing a muggle rock song to impress Flitwick and it was ‘Every Rose Has Its Thorn’ by Poison. After the Weird Sisters cover it during the Celestial Ball, combined with Merula’s newfound love for muggle music, David becomes an enthusiastic lover of all things rock and roll. Tonks even lends him a few CDs to listen to in his spare time and he buys more than a few on his own time.

· David and Merula become so enamored with rock music, one of their favorite pastimes is going to concerts together. His favorite band is Guns N’ Roses while hers is Motley Crue (Merula’s favorite song is ‘Girls, Girls, Girls’).

· David is ticklish underneath the armpits and hates it when people do so.

· Though not close, Talbot and David have a mutual understanding where they assist each other from time to time.

· Jae once switched his pumpkin juice for one filled with belch powder and caused such a ruckus that Filch thought he had set off a dungbomb.

· Believe it or not, Merula was not David’s first. That honor belongs to Tulip, who became his ‘friends with benefits’ buddy for a period of time.

· Penny Haywood was technically his first crush and kissed her once, though the stars never aligned for them to date.

· David is a good singer but Merula in his opinion, has the voice of an angel.

· He is not bad on a broom and becomes much better at flying with his ascension to beater.

· Fred and George Weasley can alternate between fun and a huge thorn in his side. There constant pranking and mischief gives him headaches, as he is supposed to be their prefect. They make up for it, however, by showing him secret passageways they find and tip him off to what they know. David never figures out how they seem to avoid trouble all the time.

· He develops a fondness for a pint during his later Hogwarts years and Aberforth will sometimes comp him.

· During year 5, Tonks and Tulip decide to throw a raging party before the OWLs which brings some….interesting results.

· Saw his first concert- Aerosmith when he was 16 years old and caught a pick flung into the crowd by Joe Perry (he cheated by using a silent ‘accio’)

· David is an avid Quidditch fan and loves rooting for the English national team during the World Cup.

· During third year, David once helped the Weird Sisters put on a secret concert in the middle of the training grounds. However, some of the magical enhanced effects and fireworks got out of hand, resulting in the Professors finding out and punishment for the band.

· Once blew the biggest bubble with droobles gum (Fred Weasley later popped it).

· During his third year, David’s pants somehow caught fire from a Fire Crab, and ever since will not even so much as touch a magical creature. Merula also never fails to remind him about it.

· Merula will wear a bow for David when the two are out on private dates together as she secretly likes them but hates the idea of anyone making fun of her for it.

#mc info #david grant #hphm #bio #mc x merula

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