#Daniel le Domas fic

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Hi!! I wanted to start by saying your writing is so captivating and I’m just in love.

I’m not sure if you are still writing for him but can I request #40 Tentative kisses given in the dark or #50 A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck for Daniel le Domas? If you don’t write for him anymore, can I ask for Art instead? Thank you!

*I'm not currently taking any more requests from this list

Nonnie when I saw the name Daniel le Domas? The gasp I gasped. The scream I scrumpt.

"Take a break."

"I'm not due for a break."

"Take one anyway."

You shot Daniel a sidelong glance before returning your focus to the drink that you were making. You couldn't count how many times you'd bartended for a shindig at the le Domas home. The catering company that you worked for was one of their frequent picks and you were where you always wound up: behind the bar.

Daniel had always been a polite and frequent visitor, but the more often you were there, the more he spoke to you. He was about the only family member that bothered to.

You'd been warned going into that evening that you were supposed to keep your head down and your mouth shut. You just weren't able to warn Daniel. You didn't have his number, and from what you could find, the guy didn't have social media.

It was strange. His life was so glamorous, but seemed so...Contained.

"Come on, go on break," He urged again.

"Daniel, I'm working."

"I can see that. Looks awful."

You glanced toward where your manager was lingering in the doorway to the kitchen, watching you closely. You smoothed your smile away, topping off your glass and passing it to the gentleman that was waiting.

"C'mon, take your break," Daniel urged. "Take a walk with me."

"Not now, Daniel," You muttered.

"I know you get twenty minutes, we'll only take ten...Five?"

You jolted at the sound of your name, straightening up as your manager came over.

"Has she served you, Mr. Le Domas?" He asked.

"Yes, she has."

"Is there an issue with your order?"

"No," Daniel's eyes darted between you and your manager.

"Excellent. I will be taking over here," Your manager stepped in pointedly beside you. "Your help is needed in the kitchen."

You nodded your acquiescence, turning away and heading to the kitchen without another word. Damnit, you were worried that this would happen.

--

"C'mere."

"Jesus!" You hissed, whirling around at the sound of Daniel's voice. When you'd finally taken your break, you'd ducked out to the service entrance to get some air, but you hadn't expected for anyone to be waiting for you.

"C'mere," He urged again, taking hold of your hand.

"You're going to get me in trouble again!" You groaned, but you didn't bother to stay put or let go. You followed him unthinkingly, glancing back toward the door nervously to ensure that no one heard or saw you before you lost sight of it.

--

"You're not planning on murdering me out here, are you?" You asked, glancing around the stables.

"No."

"Helluva place to do it, you know, if you did. Use the hay to clean up some of the blood—You probably can't put a horse on trial. Probably."

"Are you trying to give me ideas?"

"I don't think you need 'em."

"I really get you in trouble?"

"A little."

"...What're they gonna do if they find you out here with me?"

"Fire me, probably. I don't know how they'd find us, though. This place is a fucking labyrinth."

You stopped looking around as you felt the heat of Daniel's body against your back. You bit your lip, fighting to keep yourself still as he stepped around you.

"Hey, but if you are gonna murder me, could you do it quickly? I'm not really into the whole edging thing with sex so I'm definitely not gonna find it hot with, like, death—"

You went still as he cupped your face, swiping his thumb across your cheekbone. You peered up at him, taking in the sweep of his lashes as his gaze lingered on your lips. You stepped a little closer, nudging your nose lightly against his before closing the gap between you. For all of his flirting and teasing at the bar, Daniel seemed almost as nervous as you felt. You slid your hand up into his hair, drawing him closer as he teased his tongue between your lips. His hands settled on your hips, steering you back against a beam. You tipped your head back as the kiss broke, sighing as his lips trailed along your jaw.

"Daniel..."

"Mm."

"I can't be late."

"I'll take care of it."

"But—"

Daniel grasped your jaw, turning your head toward his again, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

"I'll take care of you."

[criesinliess]

━JULY 2024; susan's recs

GRISHAVERSE

━━KAZ BREKKER

matching bracelets @happyyyandcrazyyy

MARAUDERS ERA

━━REGULUS BLACK

le coup de foudre @theostrophywife

━━JAMES POTTER

till forever falls apart; not mad anymore @priniya

HARRY POTTER

━━MATTHEO RIDDLE

heart on my sleeve @theostrophywife

━━THEODORE NOTT

flames on thin ice @sectumsempraaa

TEEN WOLF

━━STILES STILINSKI

to kiss a friend @writingsbychlo

PANIC

━━DODGE MANSON

lonely dancers @sunsburns

MAXTON HALL

━━JAMES BEAUFORT

grace and arrogance @sagewriting

the best friend; pt2; pt3 @uniquexusposts

READY OR NOT

━━DANIEL LE DOMAS

wicked game @youvebeenlivingfictional

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER

━━SPIKE

warmer than a comforter @evieelyzabethh

PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS

━━LUKE CASTELLAN

right by my violets @tangledinlove

proximity — masterlist @kestisvrse

ULTRAMAN: RISING

━━KENJI SATO

curtain calls and curveballs; pt2; pt3 @zaczenemiji

shattered pride @↑

STRANGER THINGS

━━EDDIE MUNSON

still live @caxde

unlovable @↑

━━STEVE HARRINGTON

gossip in town @eddiemunsonw

paint me red @↑

come home — season three @stevie-petey 

blurb @↑

episode nine: the good @↑

another blurb @↑

OUTER BANKS

━━RAFE CAMERON

illicit affairs @cherryobx

not your girl @giuliettagaltieri

[rhubarbdreams]

Word Count: 1,185, Daniel Le Domas/Grace Le Domas pre-Relationship, Teen and Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Daniel Le Domas Lives, Character Death Fix, Fix-It, Developing Relationship, Yuletide 2022

Summary:

"Funny story. Not really. But. Yeah. We were all adopted, Alex and Emilie and me, but I guess the old folks thought—rightly so—that baby me couldn't exactly play, uh, any board game. But Alex and Emilie were toddlers when their papers came through and they joined the family, so they did it, and I hadn't blown up yet by then, so. Yeah. Got left out of that one. A lot of goat sacrifices, though. To make up for it. Not fun. But, hey, I'm still in one piece. I guess."

"Great," is about all she can come up with. "I'm being asked some awkward questions, but glad I can blame it on your all being adopted and not on demons or whatever the fuck."

"Ah. The proper authorities." He grimaces.

"And hospital personnel, yeah." Her chair creaks. It's uncomfortable and noisy, and not making this conversation any easier.

[lakeglitter]

back on my bullshit (resurrecting my favourite character only to trap him in a seemingly infinite time loop and kill him again and again until he develops a more true understanding of himself and the people in his life)

[goddesspharo]

fic: held the hand of a devil (it was warm in the night) Ready or Not (Daniel Le Domas/Grace Le Domas)

"You know I've turned off notifications for anyone with the last name Le Domas." When Daniel asks if that's why she never responds to his text messages, Grace replies, "I can literally shout across the hall to respond to your texts. Besides, you're listed in my phone as Betty Ford."

[takusan-no-ai]

★·.·`¯´·.Daniel Le Domas.·`¯´·.·★

Fics (0)

Headcanons (0)

Oneshots (0)

Imagines (0)

[saintcarrionn]

ready or not (2019): a crazed sort of almost-review consisting mostly of screams

adam brody. as a point all on his own. if you need only one reason to watch this movie, adam brody is that reason. i have a whole new appreciation for bow ties.

fucked up sibling dynamics!!! you think you've figured them both out but you haven't!!! the wrong brother dies first!!! protective older sibling trying to shield his younger brother to the ultimate detriment of his own mental stability and health leading to him becoming an alcoholic with a gold digger wife

the gold digger wife!!! whose name is charity because of course it is

weird fucked up rituals stemming from a generations-old deal with the devil in return for wealth and prosperity

rich people getting systematically exploded

samara weaving in a ripped bloodstained wedding dress with a knife wound in her shoulder and a bullet through her hand walking out of a mansion whilst it burns behind her as a visual

the angst potential of daniel x grace - she thought alex was the good one!! he thought alex was the one with the soul!!! he only wanted to protect his brother!! he died to save her whilst alex tried to sacrifice her to survive!! ultimately it doesn't matter but she picked the wrong brother!!

classical music overlaying a scene of the butler getting kicked in the face over the back of a car seat

thank you that is all

[vinca-majors]

i don’t own a single gun (but if i did you’d be the one to make all of the bad men run) | grace x daniel

Grace says, “Will you marry me?” “Absolutely not,” says Daniel.

[mrs-steve-harrington]

It’s Okay Not to be Okay

Read on AO3

Rating: T

Relationships: Daniel Le Domas & Grace Le Domas

Characters: Grace Le Domas, Daniel Le Domas

Additional Tags: Post-Movie, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Resurrected Daniel Le Domas, Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, Crying, POV Grace Le Domas

Word Count: 1,186

Summary:

That damn box was still on her mantle. She considered covering it with something. Then she wouldn't have to see it every time she walked past. It stood as a reminder—only now it wasn't solely a reminder of the worst night of her life. It was a reminder that something else lay in her future, something she wasn't ready to think about.

In the end, she left it as it was. For now.

Notes: Sequel to A deal with Mr. Le Bail. Written for Comfortween Day Three

It's Not Just A River in Egypt: Comfort someone who's denying that anything is wrong

[fabricated-misslieness]

Daniel Le Domas x gender neutral reader

Yo I hate Alex that motherfucker but also I think it’d be easier if Daniel killed Tony in the forest and then ran away with Grace, but I guess it’d be safe to bet that others left for the forest when the car got flipped.

Also for some reason my gifs aren’t workin

Requested: No

Word Count: 2847

Warnings: suggested use of drugs because Emilie exists, mentions of hypothetical violence, some angst i think, mentions of a gun in a world war themed board game

Normal AU where Le Domas are a ‘normal’ rich family, still weird, but no deal with the devil.

Servants, lavish parties, gourmet food, expensive alcohol, this was the life you might be inheriting. You say ‘might’ because you’re not married, nor are you getting married. 

Your partner, Daniel Le Domas, was born to a rich family, so he was entitled to all these privileges, not that he seemed quite fond of them. Deep down you knew he was, but he for sure didn’t make it clear.

“Don’t worry,” Speak of the devil. He reassures you, squeezing your hand as you walk down the halls to the music room. A music room, for god’s sake! Not speakers, not a radio, but their butler playing the piano. At least they didn’t have a ballroom, that would just be way extra. “We’re a normal family, I promise.”

“Normal?” You raise an eyebrow, gesturing to a nearby seemingly ancient, though you exaggerated that, portrait of a newlywed couple. “All the portraits I’ve seen so far are newlywed couples.” 

“That’s normal for rich families.”

“Haha.” You say sarcastically. “But seriously, you can’t even paint them in normal clothes? Not even family pictures of one of your many vacations?”

“First of all, who said we even had vacations?” You assumed they did, seeing as they were wealthy. Doesn’t the average rich person go on vacation twice a year? Whatever, who were you to assume? Though the thought of it is still a little peculiar, so you decide to question it.

“You don’t? No little tour over Europe? No visiting the seven wonders in the span of a week?” You go on and on, suggesting outlandish places.

Daniel nudges your side playfully to get you to stop. “No, haven’t even toured the US.”

You laugh, nudging him back. “You’re no fun, for a board game family.” You pluck a nearby board game from it’s shelf, Yankee Bayonet. Initially, you’d been attracted because of the gun on the box. It's world war one or two themed. “Well, can’t blame you. Don’t know how this would seem fun. What’s it even about?” You put the box back on display before Daniel can scold you for touching it.

“Honestly, I don’t know. There’s so many games, and I’ve barely played a quarter of them. That one, however,” he points at a box further down the hallway, “that one I play-tested as a kid. It’s somewhat fun.”

“Somewhat.”

As you near the end of the hallway, your eyes land on a portrait of Charity. You stop, which makes Daniel stop too. For a second, he’s confused, until he looks up at the portrait. Immediately, he turns to survey you. Among every emotion dancing in your eyes, he catches disturbance, nervousness, and most importantly, a splash of disgust. “Charity.” You say a little bitterly.

“Charity.” He repeats. “That’s where our painting used to be.” He cups your cheek and pulls you to look at him, putting his other hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

You shake your head, putting one hand on his hip and the other on the hand resting on your cheek. “It’s nothing. If I’m going to be with you, I’m going to have to face your family.” Daniel smiles, giving you a quick peck on the nose. He’s glad you’re so willing to get to know them, especially with how much he’s down-talked them, to put it lightly. “The only thing that confuses me is why this is still here. She’s your ex-wife.”

“They took a liking to her.” The both of you grimace. “She was just as crazy as them. Honestly, I don’t see what they see in her. But,” He takes your hand and presses a kiss on it. “I won’t let her bother you. If you want, I’ll even flaunt our relationship more than I would’ve.”

You shake your head, turning towards the next corridor. “No need. I’ll be fine.”

Famous last words, “I’ll be fine.”

You were not fine, in fact, you were a fish out of water. Standing next to the family, you felt severely underdressed, even when you’d gone out your way to wear something fancy. Though that wasn’t the biggest problem. They were all very distinct, but they fit into the family. Of course, they were family, but it made you feel like an outcast.

“(y/n),” Becky greets you with a smile. You offer her a hand, but she gives you a hug instead. You barely manage to reciprocate it. “I’m delighted that you came for a visit."

You give her the best smile you can, hoping she doesn’t notice it’s fake. “I’m glad I’m here with you.” You’d really thought that meeting the family would go smooth, honestly though, how could you? These were rich people, your lifestyle, mannerisms, nothing was even remotely similar to theirs.

“Oh, thank you.” She hands you a glass of champagne which you gingerly take, just to be polite. “I hope you can bring my son back to his old self. He’s never been the same since the divorce!” Before she can take you off towards a couch somewhere, Daniel stops her. He’d excused himself for some whiskey when you made it to the entrance and promised he’d make it quick.

“Mom.” He scolds lightly. He takes the drink from your hands and leaves it on a servant’s tray, knowing you’re not one for fancy champagne.

“Daniel.” Her face lights up. She gives him a quick hug, which you notice Daniel is a bit uncomfortable in. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” She teases.

Daniel nods rather stiffly, moving to your side and taking your hand almost immediately. “Been busy.” The whole family knows that ‘busy’ meant being with you, yet he covers up for it anyway.

“I know, I know. They’re a nice catch, by the way.” Becky pats you on the shoulder, a gesture both you and Daniel seem to dislike. “Well, I better not keep you for any longer. I’m sure the rest of the family is eager to meet you.” For some reason, you highly doubt that. 

Becky leaves you for another glass of champagne. Daniel turns to you once she’s gone. “You okay?” He holds your hands in his in the hopes it’ll comfort you.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He can tell you’re lying, you’re not hiding it very well. He gives you a knowing look, pushing you to tell the truth. “Alright, I’m not okay. Charity and your aunt have been eyeing me up since we arrived, your dad looks way older than your mom, Emily and Finch seem too happy to be real, your nephews are creepy, and Alex and Grace both look like they want to leave. That’s not reassuring, now is it?” Your ever rising tone makes Daniel squeeze your hands to stop you.

“Honey, they’re harmless.” He knows that’s an awful way of reassuring someone, but he knows that no matter what he says, you’ll still be doubtful.

You frown, letting out a sigh through your nose. “I know they’re harmless, but..” You bite your lip, trying to find a way to sugar coat your words. “Charity looks like she wants to kill me and your aunt looks like she could skin me alive without even blinking.”

“Look,” He brings his hands to cup your cheeks. “there’s nothing to worry about. From now on, I won’t leave your side. And if I need a refill, I’ll bring you with me. I love you.”

You sigh again, closing your eyes. In the end, you nod, opening them back up to look at him. “I love you too.”

“Good,” He brings you in for a chaste kiss. “Let’s go fuck them, like mom says.”

"She really says that?"

Daniel was right, they were harmless. Well, you hadn’t talked to Charity, but at least you’d talked to the second person giving you a serial killer look, aunt Helene.

Turns out the stink eye was her resting face and that her husband had died tragically. It was the main reason she looked so miserable. She was most likely merely reminiscing about her husband while looking at you two, the newest couple in love. If anything, it made you feel bad for her.

"I'm pretty sure I saw her take a pill like a shot in the hallway." You side glance Emilie as Daniel pulls you off to the side. You were just done talking to her, and somehow, even with all that parental stress, her smile was genuine. She was happy and extremely friendly. Well, so was her husband, but even he had a bit of awkwardness in him. "She's not suffering from anything, is she?"

Daniel shrugs, "Not that I know of."

He sits the both of you down on a loveseat out of earshot from the rest. "Now, we only have to wait until dinner." You nod. "But I have something to tell you. When somebody marries into the family, they have to play a game. It's just tradition. Play the game and you're part of the family, but win it, and you'll gain respect. Might as well get some practice in, right?"

"Did you just propose to me?" You mean it as a joke, but Daniel shrugs and reaches into his pocket. It's a wonder how people aren't looking over right now, well, apart from Charity.

"This is a claddagh ring. It's been sitting in my pocket for ages." He says as he pulls it out of the box. The majority of the ring is normal, but in the middle is a heart with a crown on it. "But, it's up to you how you want to wear it."

"So is this a proposal or..?"

He gives you a quick rundown on the meanings. On the right hand crown pointing towards the fingerprints is single and looking, towards the wrist is taken, on the left ring finger crown pointing towards the fingertips is engaged, and pointing to the wrist is married. Obviously, you're not married or single, so that leaves taken or engaged; and he's giving you that decision.

"You want me to choose?"

Daniel looks like he's regretting his spontaneous and presumably drunken decision. But with a swig of his drink, he smiles again. "Yes. I mean, we've talked about marriage and all but I wasn't sure if you'd be ready. I'm still not sure, but now that you know about it, you might as well wear it."

You admire the ring as you weigh your options. Daniel takes your free hand, absentmindedly playing with your fingers, especially your ring finger.

Engagement is the brightest thing in your heart and mind, despite that, it still finds doubts. Your in-laws, they were weird. But they didn't have anything to hide, they were harmless. On the plus side, you loved Daniel.

That was the final push. You grab Daniel's left hand, sliding the ring down his ring finger with the crown pointing to the fingertips.

Daniel's left hand curls around your right, the metal feels cold against your skin, despite all your fiddling. You look up at him, seeing his brows furrowed with confusion. You speak up before he can, "I might as well be proposing to you, if you're giving me the decision."

Daniel laughs, giving you a kiss followed by an eskimo kiss. He isn't usually one for eskimo kisses, but you figure it's happiness. "Okay, but I'll buy you one."

"Deal." You give him a final kiss before pulling him off the seat. "What should we play?"

"Well, first we have to go to the game room."

"The game room?"

You were hoping the game room was the room with the double doors painted with the name 'Le Domas', seeing as they were a board game family, but apparently not. "It's reserved for family, so technically you're not allowed in. But, we have a game room for parties." Daniel explains on the way. Rich people and their special rooms…

Once inside, Becky plucks a family board game from the shelf, no doubt a Le Baile product. Before you can join them at the couch, however, Charity pulls you off to the side.

Daniel follows, putting his arm around your shoulder protectively. Charity glares at him for a second before turning back to you, it was clear she wanted you alone. "Care for a game of chess?"

"Usually, we play more traditional games, stuff that would be here during my great-great-grandfather's time. He founded the company but the family tradition comes from before most of the games they've created." He whispers quickly into your ear. Due to the quickness, you almost fail to comprehend his words, but luckily you understand them.

"Alright." You agree to the game. Charity leads you over to the chess table, where conveniently, the chess board is already set out.

Daniel pulls a chair from seemingly out of nowhere, setting it down to your side, much to Charity's distaste.

"I got chess when I married in." Somehow she manages to avoid bitterness in her tone. "You should go first."

God, you barely knew the basics.

"So tell me about yourself." Charity speaks up.

You give her a quick rundown, which hopefully doesn't reveal any information that she could use to her advantage. "Interesting." She takes your bishop. "From what I've heard Daniel say, I expected the worst." 

Daniel narrows his eyes at her as a warning, though Charity doesn't see. Her eyes are glued to the board.

"I don't know why he'd leave me for you."

"Charity." Daniel warns her.

Charity holds her hands up in mock surrender. "I'm only speaking my mind. But I'll stop now."

She does stop for the remainder of the game, nevertheless there's no doubt in your mind that she has a lot more to say. She beats you quite easily, though she seemed disappointed when the reward was not getting to remarry your new fiancé. It's either that or you'd read her wrong.

"You have much to practice." Becky remarks, taking a sip of her champagne before continuing. "But, you'll get there." She smiles.

You smile back, standing up from your chair. Daniel does so too, almost protectively. He stares ahead towards Charity. The two seem to be having a glaring contest. You decide to ignore them, "I don't know about that."

"Oh, sure you will." Her eyes trail towards your hands when you intertwine them.

"I didn't see that there before. Claddagh ring, left ring finger pointing up." She continues to stare, a little disrespectfully. She notices this before it becomes moderately disrespectful. "You're engaged." Her smile widens.

Her words catch everyone's attention. Almost immediately, Emilie runs over with the brightest smile you'd ever seen.

"Congrats!" She exclaims, reaching out to hold your hand but stopping when she sees it connected to Daniel's. "I can't wait to have you in the family!"

"Thanks."

"They're not normal." You remark as you sit next to Daniel on the bed. The family had insisted that you stay the night, and while that was quite sweet of them, you really wanted to get out of there. They were no longer creepy or ominous, but you want a break. You weren't feeling as social as you did when you came in.

"Can't judge what normal is when they're the only family I've met." Daniel brings the blanket over your legs. "Sorry, anyway."

You shrug, planting a kiss on his forehead. "It's alright. Though that proposal was a little spontaneous."

At the mention of the proposal, Daniel shifts his ring around on his finger. "I was drunk, still am. At least I got it out of my chest. Who knows how long I'd keep it in my pocket otherwise."

"Knowing you, it'd be months, maybe a year."

"Hey!" Daniel whines, nonetheless, it's followed up by a laugh.

You can't help but give him a kiss again, this time on his temple. Daniel moves closer afterwards, pulling you into a proper kiss on the lips.

"Did you like them?" He asks when you pull apart.

You shake your head side to side in a more or less motion. "Mostly. Charity is Charity, you know. Your dad seemed to only focus on the engagement, I think I saw Emilie snort something, I don't know what to feel. Well, your mom is nice, maybe a little too nice. She hopes that I make you behave like you, but I wouldn't know how that is."

"So that's what she was talking to you about." He bites his lip for a second. "Well, don't worry. I believe I behave the way 'I used to' around anybody that isn't them, apart from Alex and Grace."

"Reassuring." You say sarcastically, laying down.

"Seriously? Can't tell the difference?" He lays down, cupping your cheek and allowing you to wrap your arms around him.

"Honestly, yeah. It's a little concerning." You nuzzle into his hand.

"Well, don't be. We'll be back home in no time. After breakfast, though, they're going to insist on that." You groan at the thought. Daniel simply laughs in reply, turning off the lamp.

"Goodnight, sweet dreams. Love ya."

"Love you too."

[mrs-theirin]

hello again! tried to make this a weekly thing and that just didn’t work aslksfdhs but here we are again! enjoy <3

Other Stories | TrulyCertain - Dragon Age & FemHawke/Varric

She snorts. “It almost sounds like you’re in love with me."

After things finally crumble with Bianca, Hawke begins to understand why. (651 words)

short and sweet! nicely captures the vibes of hawke and varric and it made me super happy. i wish there was more to say but it’s really just that kadlshglksd

Trust Me: Just Follow The Blood | @queenofbaws / TheIcyQueen - Dragon Age & FemHawke/Varric

If there's one thing Varric's learned, it's that nothing is ever a coincidence when Hawke is involved. So when a group of Inquisition scouts goes missing after the destruction of Haven AND Hawke's letters stop coming AND she never arrives at Skyhold? Yeah, he knows something's up. Good thing there's a foolproof way to find her no matter how far she roams: Just follow the blood. Works every time. (5,225 words)

HELLOOOOOOOO i will literally never shut up about this fic. queenie writes the BEST shit out there it’s unreal. honestly at some point i’ll have to stop pointing out specific fics and just say “go read queenie’s stuff”. actually, that is what i’m saying. GO READ QUEENIE’S STUFF. her characterization is SPOT ON always and reading her work just feels like drinking a nice cup of hot chocolate (and occasionally choking on it because you’re laughing too hard). the humor, the romance, the banter, fear, anticipation, shock: you want it, it’s here folks. go read this right now!!!

one month to pluck your heartstrings | stargent - Ready Or Not (2019) & Daniel/Grace Le Domas

The rumor mill gets a few things wrong.

While Daniel may have appeared in her room that fateful day, it wasn’t to steal her away.

In actuality, it was she who seduced him; her arms winding like vines around his neck, lips tasting of ripe fruit, coaxing blooms from the beats of his heart.

A lipstick kiss the color of pomegranates on his skin. (4,291 words)

okay so i watched ready or not on tuesday at 3 in the morning and of course the next day i was like “oh well i have to look up fanfic” so here i am and BOY if this wasn’t the best idea i’ve ever had. this fic KILLED me. the prose was so absolutely beautiful it’s unreal, there were many times where i audibly said “wow” or gasped or covered my mouth or held my hand over my heart, i’m not even kidding. this fic was so fucking good it’s unreal. idk why i don’t read fic more often this shit is AMAZING. i definitely recommend giving this a read if you liked the movie!!! the characterization is amazing, and you can really feel the emotion!!

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Wicked Game

Pairing: Daniel Le Domas x Reader

Rating: Explicit- 18+ Only

Warnings: Angst; fluff; infidelity; explicit sexual content—vagina sex, oral sex. Not beta-read.

Notes: You can venmo me that soul whenever

Length: 6.9K

Summary: “Hey,” He murmurs, “You trust me?”

You shouldn’t. Daniel Le Domas has never given you a good reason to trust him. But you find yourself nodding. He gives your hand a squeeze, your arm a tug, and leads you into the trees. 

He thinks about it.

As the others stream into the room, chattering frenetically, he thinks about. He looks at the box, and he thinks about it. If he brought her home—if he brought her in—what would she draw?

Old Maid?

Chess?

Bridge?

Checkers?

Or…

Daniel winces at the thought, turning his head and raising his glass to his lips. He drains the contents, revels in the burn, and shakes his head a little, trying to knock the thoughts away. He’s already let this go on too long if he’s even worrying about this. She’d seemed so damn putout when he’d told her that he didn’t think it was a good idea for her to come home with her for Thanksgiving. 

He couldn’t blame her for her upset. Thanksgiving is no intimate affair for the Le Domas family—so few things are. And he hadn’t brought her home for it last year, either—or for Christmas, New Year’s, the Fourth of July, birthday parties, none of it. He’s been keeping her away from his world, tucked in their own private corner of his life.

His family knows that there’s someone, but they haven’t discovered her yet. He’s been careful. But she deserves to be with someone that can love her openly, not covet her in the shadows.

Maybe next Thanksgiving. 

-- 

You don’t recognize the house until it’s too late. You’d only been there once, three years ago, but it’s unmistakably the same house. A steady welling of dread is beginning to flood you. Your boyfriend, James, doesn’t notice—he’s still going on and on, reminding you of things about his business’ silent partner—topics to hit on, topics to avoid. You hadn’t taken a look at his business partner’s instagram, but now you’re wishing you had. 

Maybe your boyfriend’s business partner just knows the Le Domas family well enough to be invited to their annual Christmas party, and a brief stay at the gargantuan house. It’s a massive affair—well-to-do people, business moguls, politicians. It’s more a wander-around, eat-canapes, sip-champagne sort of thing. It was the most uncomfortable party you’d ever been to. You’d felt like an outsider, and like Daniel was ashamed to have you on his arm. 

You only half-hear James’ notes and order. You’re not really listening. You’re bracing for the inevitable flood of them out through the front door, the surprised smiles, the backhanded comments, the forced geniality—the sight of him. He’s married now. They’d made sure you’d known that. You’d even gotten an invitation to the wedding.

You’d coped by setting it on fire.

“...Babe?” James plies when you don’t answer him. “You alright?” 

“...Fine,” You manage. “Think I left the iron on.” 

“Can we call someone to go check? We’re gonna be here a couple’a days,” He reminds you. 

“Yeah,” You manage, “Yeah, I can…Actually, I think I ought to head home after the party tonight.” 

James sighs heavily, as if a child has left their toys strewn across the floor again. 

“Babe,” He presses, “We’ve talked about this. You know you need to stay through the weekend. Besides, it’s a three hour drive back home, and it’ll be late. We’ll go back on Sunday.” He reaches out, patting your thigh. “I know you wanna make this perfect for me, and I know that that’s why you’re so nervous, but you’ll do just fine. Okay?” 

Fine. 

You don’t tell James that it was like this the last time you were there. It had been different then—your third Christmas with Daniel, and your last. You hadn’t been the only trepidatious one in the car. Daniel had been just as nervous as you were—but he’d put his hand on your thigh and told you that it would be alright—even though he didn’t seem to believe it himself. 

--

You’re on tenterhooks. You can’t help it. In the sea of pristinely attired people, you find yourself looking around warily, fingers flexing in the bend of James’ elbow. The three champagne flutes you’ve downed on an empty stomach are beginning to bubble and make their way back up toward your head. 

You haven’t seen any of the family yet. You think that you may get out of this without seeing any of them, but—

“There he is—Daniel! Where have you been keeping yourself!” James crows, letting go of your hand to lightly and fleetingly embrace his business partner. 

The champagne is beginning to drop away from your head and back toward your stomach in the worst way. 

Then again, if you get sick, maybe James’ll concede that you heading home is for the best. 

Daniel is staring right at you, even as James extends his hearty thanks for the invitation, his admiration of the house, the hospitality. 

“Anytime, man,” Is Daniel’s flat, canned answer before he gives a nod toward you. “You gonna introduce me?” 

Your eyes narrow at the implication, anxiety turning to anger. Introduce—like you’re new to him, like he’s never seen you before. You can’t call him out on it now; you didn’t mention to James that you knew one another—how could you have? You didn’t know that his Daniel had once been your Daniel. James introduces you like it’s nothing. He curls his arm around your middle and draws you into his side the way he always has—like you fit, like you belong there. 

“How are you finding our little party?” Daniel asks you. You want to punch him in the face and pour your drink over him. In your mind, you’re doing much, much worse to him. But you force a straight face, and tell him, “Fine, thank you.” 

“Better than fine!” James hurries to correct. “It’s great.” 

“You two have a chance to look at your room yet?” Daniel presses. 

“Not yet.” 

“It’s a nice one. Big bed,” Daniel winks at James. Your stomach churns. 

“Excuse me,” You mumble, beginning to step away from James. 

“Where are you going?” James frowns. 

“You’re looking a little green around the gills,” Daniel tacks on. He’s goading you, and he’s enjoying it. He must be. 

“Where’s that wife of yours?” James adds, turning back to Daniel. “I’m sure these two will be fast friends.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Daniel chuckles. “This one seems nice, and, well. You’ve met Charity.” 

The two share a hearty laugh, complete with an arm slap; James tips his head back with the force of it. It’s too loud, too fake—just like this whole damn party. You mumble your excuse again, citing the need for a new drink. 

“Aw, thanks, babe, I’d love one!” James says, pressing his empty glass into your hand. So much for a clean escape. 

You dawdle at the bar, lingering behind a large group before stepping up. You request another champagne, and a scotch for James. Once you’ve got it, you direct a waiter over toward James with his fresh drink, and mumble your thanks before escaping outside. 

It’s chilly out, but you manage to draw in what feels like the first deep breath since you arrived at the house. You raise your glass to your lips, taking in a deep pull. When you lower it again, it’s half-empty. You sigh softly, looking down at the contents. You can’t just make a run for it—a hired car wouldn’t be there before James came looking for you. You lift your head, eyeing the lit pool and fountains. 

“Looks nice all lit up, doesn’t it?” 

The voice makes your stomach churn, your shoulders going tight. You can’t run; the shoes you’re wearing won’t allow it. You could throw your champagne in his face—but by god, would that be an awful waste of champagne. 

“Course, you’ve seen it like this before,” He goes on. His voice is drifting closer; you can hear his approaching footsteps. “Does it hold up to your memories? Better? Worse?” 

“...I don’t know,” You manage. “I blocked that night out.” 

“Pfft, what?” Daniel chuckles. “You said that was the best night of your life.” 

“I lied.” 

“Why would you lie about that?” 

“I had to put on a brave face after you’d spent the night pretending I didn’t exist.” 

You don’t turn to look at him, even as he comes to stand beside you. The sleeve of his suit jacket brushes your chilled bare arm. 

“...Your boyfriend’s a shithead,” He offers.

“I guess I have a type.” 

You hope it’ll sting him, but Daniel just laughs. 

“You invested with that shithead,” You remind him. 

“He’s a shithead with a good business model. Fingers in different pies.” 

“And you always were the type to prefer quantity over quality.” 

Daniel huffs another soft laugh, stepping up to the marble railing and leaning back against it and facing you. 

“You’re going to stretch a muscle, reaching for those insults.” 

He looks as smug as he sounds as you turn an irritated eye toward him. Something softens in his expression within a couple of blinks, his eyes wandering you. 

“You look good,” He murmurs. 

“I know.” 

“Cold, though.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“So you’re shivering for fun?” 

You say nothing. You just raise your glass to your lips and drain it. Then, unable to help yourself, you fling the glass over the side of the balcony. There’s something oddly gratifying about the sound of it crashing on the walkway below. Daniel’s smile widens, and you have to clench your jaw. You only just manage to halt your own smile, and you damn the fluttering in your stomach at the sight. 

You hate that you know it’s one of his rare, real smiles—one that you’d been privy to at the very start of the relationship. They’d dwindled as you’d grown more serious, and damn near disappeared by the time he’d finally brought you home for the holidays. Yours had disappeared, too. 

“...You look good,” he murmurs. 

“You said that.” 

“I mean it.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“You don’t think I think you look good?” 

“I don’t give a fuck what you think, Daniel, I really don’t.” 

“You never did lie well. It’s one of the reasons you didn’t fit in here.” 

“Oh one of the reasons,” You laugh a little hysterically. “My god, just list them all out now, why don’t you.” 

“Sure, I can do that—” 

“I’m being sarcastic, asshole.” 

“Well, there’s the fact that you don’t know how to have fun, your complete lack of skill at Jenga—”

“Oh, fuck you, I’m great at Jenga.” 

“You are not.” 

“I am!” 

“Your hands shake when you’re nervous.” 

“You were all staring at me!” 

“It was Jenga.”  

“Oh—For fuckssake, I could kick your ass at Jenga—I could kick anyone’s ass at Jenga.”

“We’ll pencil it in for tomorrow night, then.” 

Your fire is sapped at the reminder, and you glance away from him, arms folding across your chest. 

“I’m not sure I’ll be staying that long.” 

“Really.” 

Daniel’s tone is a touch too joyous. You want to punch him. You want to slap his gorgeous, vaguely sad face. You glance over as Daniel gets up, and you frown as he shrugs out of his jacket. 

“What are you doing?” You shake your head. 

“You’re shivering.” 

“I’m fine—”

“Sure.”

You open your mouth to argue, but fall silent as he wraps his warm jacket around your shoulders. You anger is sapped, replaced with surprise and nerves at his sudden closeness. You look at Daniel almost nervously, eyes wandering his face. He’s focused on tightening the jacket around your shoulders, but as his eyes catch yours, he goes still. His gaze searches yours as you watch one another. He’s so warm, and so close—and he smells so good. Daniel always smelled so good. You used to cuddle up with him and press your face into his shoulder, breathing in the warm, woodsy scent of him. You’d had a sweater of his after you’d broken up, and kept it long after the smell of his cologne had faded. 

Daniel takes a step closer, hands settling on your shoulder, the heat of him bleeding through the jacket. Your heart leaps into your throat as his gaze drifts, then lingers on your lips. 

And then the call of, “Honey?” Cuts over your head, and you take a large step back. Your gaze drops to his chest, arms tightening around your chest as the click of heels grows closer. You can feel Daniel watching you still before he finally tears his gaze from yours. 

“Sweetheart,” He bats back. “Come meet James’ girlfriend.” Then, “Remind me what your name is?” 

Your gaze shoots to him, your anger and fire burning any warm, cuddly feelings you had for him just moments ago. 

“I’m not sure that’s important to you,” You shrug the jacket off, flinging it back at him. He catches it without a flinch, without missing a beat. The woman that comes to stand beside him is frigid in her beauty, her eyes sweeping yours as Daniel wordlessly puts the jacket around her shoulders in turn. 

“This is my wife, Charity,” Daniel tacks on. 

“Nice to meet you,” She offers. She has that same veneer that other members of the Le Domas family had when you met them—shiny and bright, but hollow. 

“You, too,” You nod before taking a step back. “Excuse me—I should find James.” 

“Sure,” Charity nods, speaking over Daniel’s, “Great idea.” 

You turn from the two of them, gripping at your dress skirt and drawing it up from your shoes to avoid tripping up the scant steps to get inside. You move with careful determination, not wanting to trip in front of either of them. You have two more days worth of this mess—of needling teasing. It won’t do to fall apart now. 

--  

You manage to keep out of the family’s way for most of the following day. You hide out in the library for the most part. It had been your only safe haven the last time you were there, too. James has spent most of the day rubbing elbows with the Le Domas family. In truth, you’re already thinking of the best way to break up with him once you’re home—and Considering the frosty reception you’d gotten when you’d gone to bed, you’re certain that James is considering the same thing. For now, there’s a silent, knowing accord—grin and bear it. 

But you have been wrangled into going on a hike with the family and a few of the other guests that afternoon. 

Charity sidles up to you before you can say or do a thing. She has a glint in her eye that wasn’t there the night before—one that’s no doubt a result of Daniel filling her in on some particulars.

You think, maybe, that she won’t be like the others. 

You hope, truthfully, that when she persuades you to leave the group with her, to look at an old hiking trail Alex and Danny used to love, that she’s legitimately planning on showing you. 

And you realize, fully, when she ditches you, that she’s just as nasty as the rest of the fucking family. 

-- 

When she doesn’t come back with the others, Daniel’s hackles are raised. He asks James casually where his girlfriend’s gotten to, and the jackass simply says that he’s not sure—that she must be wandering somewhere, that she must be admiring nature. 

Daniel lets it go for a bit—and then it starts to get dark. He lingers by the windows, scotch in hand, eyeing the treeline. 

She’d never liked it out there. She’d told him last time that the grounds around the house gave her the willies. He couldn’t imagine that it was any different this time. He can’t shake the sinking feeling that something is deeply, worryingly wrong. It doesn’t help that Charity has a sinister little curl to her lips when she tells Daniel that it’s time for dinner—and that there’s no use waiting by the window. 

Daniel slams back the rest of his drink, setting it on the windowsill. His wife makes no effort to stop him, just watches as he grabs his coat and goes out into the night. 

-- 

He sees a panic in her eyes at the sight of him, one that he once had nervous nightmares of. He'd always been afraid of his family getting to her like this. Some nights, he dreamt of her stumbling into him, an arrow piercing her side, a growing stain of blood marring a white wedding dress.

Daniel can't speak for a moment, but he doesn't have to. She's darting to him and hooking her arms around his neck as she sobs into his chest. Her dirt-riddled fingers curl in the fabric of his pristine Armani jacket. He can barely make out the words she's spluttering—"Lost," and "Cold," and "Abandoned."

Daniel's body snaps into action. This hand holding the flashlight drops it automatically, plunging them into partial darkness as he hurries to wrap his arms tightly around her.

"It's okay," He soothes, pressing the promise against her temple. "You're alright. I've got you."

-- 

You’re freezing, irritated, tired. You don’t argue as Daniel bundles you into his jacket and guides you back, but you go still as you catch sight of the house. You tighten his jacket around you, anger and annoyance and fatigue beginning to well in you. Daniel glances between you and the house for a moment before he says, “Okay…Okay. Wait here.” 

You frown, brow furrowing as he jogs to the house. You move to cower by the treeline, keeping yourself out of sight. You jump whenever you hear a branch snap, heart rabbitting in your chest. It’s ten minutes before you see Daniel leaving the house, a dufflebag in hand. He glances back toward the door before he waves you closer, taking your hand and leading you away. 

“What’ve you got?” You ask. 

“You’ll see.” Daniel smiles back at you before he guides you toward the trees again. You freeze, nervously digging in your heels, and Daniel stops fully. 

“Hey,” He murmurs, “You trust me?” 

You shouldn’t. Daniel Le Domas has never given you a good reason to trust him. But you find yourself nodding. He gives your hand a squeeze, your arm a tug, and leads you into the trees. 

-- 

You’d never seen the two-floor pool house when you were on the property before. The house had seemed so damn expansive that you’d never thought to look elsewhere. Besides, anything beyond the treeline had given you the willies. 

“I couldn’t get to your stuff, so—You gonna be okay with these?” Daniel asks, lifting a pair of sweatpants and a henley of his out of the duffle bag. You glance down at yourself, eyeing your dirt-riddled clothing. 

“Do I have a choice?” You counter, taking hold of the clothes before nodding toward the duffle. “What else is in there?” 

“Go shower,” Daniel waves you off without answering. “You smell like sweat and mud.” 

You huff, turning and looking for the bathroom. 

“Upstairs,” He says, waving toward the staircase. “First door on the left.” 

“I bet your fucking garden shed has a wine cellar in it,” You grumble as you go. 

You take your damn time showering, washing off the outdoors, and the hours of frantic worry and searching. As you clean yourself up, the stress of the day, and the situation, finally take you over. You lower yourself to the tiled shower floor, letting the tears that you’ve been holding back since you first saw the house flow free. You press a hand back against your mouth, stifling your whimpers and sniffles as the warm spray mingles with your tears. 

When you finally pull yourself together and towel yourself dry, you reach for the clothing Daniel handed you. You can’t help the urge to raise the henley to your nose, taking a whiff. It’s that same warm, clean, woodsy scent. It makes your shoulders relax, though it shouldn’t. You draw in one more sniffle as you get dressed, buttoning up the henley and reveling in the comfort. 

When you open the bathroom door, you’re greeted with a surprising, delicious scent. You frown, taking slow, careful steps down the stairs, as if you’re wary of spooking someone. You can hear the odd clink of glasses, dishes, and plates. You pull the sleeves of the henley down over your hands as you spot two plates, two glasses, and a bottle of champagne on the kitchen counter. 

“What’s this?” You ask. 

Daniel glances back from the stove, then toward the stove again. 

“Grilled cheese.” 

You grin. You can’t help it. 

“That always was the only thing you could make,” You chuckle, walking closer to him. “Are these floors heated?” 

“Yep. We sold our souls for heated floors.” 

“Ha-ha. I’m opening the champagne.” 

“Knock yourself out.” 

“Nearly did when I fell out of the tree,” You mumble.

“You climbed a tree?” Daniel frowns, glancing back toward you again. 

“I was trying to see if I could spot the house.” You reach out, unwinding the foil and the muselet.

“Did you see it?” 

“I saw the sky, I saw some branches—” You twist the cork, wincing at the pop of the bottle. “And then I saw the ground.” You take up your glass, filling it, waiting for the foam to lessen, and then topping it up further. “You want one?” 

“You think I got that other glass down for you to double-fist?” 

“After the weekend I’ve had, I deserve it.” 

You push yourself up onto the wide marble counter, swinging your feet back and forth. You watch Daniel for a moment, taking him in. He’s so far from where he is around his family—around his wife. 

“Where’s the bitch think you are, anyway?” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop it, but you’ve had a long day. 

“Probably out drinking somewhere.” 

“Which isn’t untrue.”

“It is not.” 

“I want bacon on mine.” 

“It’s in the other pan.” 

“Good boy.” 

You raise your glass to your lips as Daniel throws a stunned, amused glance back at you. 

“What gives you license to talk to me like a dog?” 

“The fact that you’re acting like one.” 

Daniel’s smile wilts before he turns away from you. You resolve to not feel bad for the comment, or his reaction. 

“...I’ve been a shit, huh.” 

“You’ve been worse than a shit.” 

“But not worse than your boyfriend.” 

“The two of you are on par.” 

Daniel opens his mouth to argue, but you’re cut off by a pounding knock on the door. You nearly choke as you inhale your champagne. Daniel shuts up the oven off, taking the glass from your hand and gripping your wrist. You wobble as you’re tugged off of the counter and down the hall, into a back room. 

“Daniel, what are you—” 

“Ssssh!” He hisses, nudging you into a closet. He passes you the glass of champagne back,wide-eyed and harried. “Stay in here, and don’t—don’t move, don’t say a thing. Okay? Just keep quiet and hold still, no matter what.” 

“But—” 

Before you can argue, Daniel shoves the closet door shut, plunging you into darkness. You frown, pulling your phone out of your pocket and shining it up and around. You’re surrounded by designer gowns and coats—things that are surely worth more than you make in a year. You huff, shuffling to the back of the closet and carefully lowering yourself to sit on the floor. You shine the light up toward the nearest dress. You lean up, squinting at the still-attached tag and balking at the cost. Christ alive.

You lean back, raising the glass to your lips and draining it. You swallow roughly, clapping your hand over your mouth as you hear Charity’s voice grow louder. Her heels click along the pristine hall floor. Daniel’s just behind. You can hear them arguing; you can hear her opening and closing doors roughly. 

“What makes you think she’s here?” You hear Daniel snap. 

“So you haven’t seen her?” Charity’s tone is rife with disbelief. 

“By all accounts, you’re the last one to see her. Why don’t you tell me where she is.”

You hurriedly shove your phone under your thigh, hiding the shine of the flashlight before you tuck yourself up more tightly into the corner of the closet. Your heart thunders in your chest as you hear the floorboards outside of the closet creaking. 

“...You really think I’d shove her in a closet?” Daniel asks dryly. 

“Why are you out here instead of at the house, then?” Charity bats back. Through the slats in the door, you can see her turning back to Daniel, her hands planting on her slim hips. 

“I needed a break from the circlejerk of thankfulness.” 

You press your hand more tightly against your lips, shoulders shaking with a laugh. 

“Are you coming back?” Charity asks. 

“Eventually, yeah. Gonna have to. All of my shit’s over there, and I’ll never hear the end of it from dad.” 

Charity turns to look at the closet again, her eyes sweeping the doors. Your stomach churns with nerves as she raises a hand to the doorknob…

Then lowers it, and strides to the door.

“Come back soon, alright? That business partner of yours is a fucking creep.” 

“I only deal with creeps, darling. That’s how I met you, remember?” Daniel retorts dryly, shutting the door behind the two of them. You let out a slow, relieved breath, the panic beginning to trickle from you. You tip your head back against the wall, keeping yourself tucked tightly into the corner. You draw in deep, steady breaths, trying to calm your pounding heart as you wait.

You go stiff and nervous again as you hear the thudding of footsteps, then the closet door being thrown open. You bite your lip, watching as the dresses above you are shifted and tugged—and then Daniel comes into view, poking his head between and a Dior dress and a Chanel trenchcoat. 

“Jesus,” He holds a hand out to help you up. “Thought you’d moved somewhere else for a second there.” 

“Nah. Find a good place and stay there,” You wince as he pulls you to your feet. You breeze past him, tacking on, “First rule of hide and seek.”

--

All of the shades in the pool house have been closed, the curtains shut tightly around them. 

“They’re gonna be watching for you,” Daniel warns. He plucks your empty champagne flute out of your hand, heading back for the kitchen. 

“How are we gonna get out of here?”

“Don’t worry about that. I know a way.” 

You follow him back to the kitchen, watching him fling the unfinished grilled cheese into the trash. 

“Dude!”

“We’ve got more,” He waves you off. You shake your head, looking around for the dishes. 

“What’d you do with the—?” 

“The plates? Stashed ‘em in the oven.”

“Wow,” You mutter. “You work fast.”

--

“Want another one?”

“No, god. I’ll burst,” You mumble, still chewing the crust of your second grilled cheese. Daniel takes up your plates, walking over to the sink. You watch him for a moment before you reach out, taking up the champagne. It’s the second bottle—the two of you practically decimated the first one before you’d even started eating. Your head is beginning to feel a little fuzzy, and heavy from fatigue. 

“Daniel?”

“Mm.”

“Why’d you come looking for me?” 

Daniel doesn’t answer right away. He just focuses fastidiously on getting the pans and cooking utensils into the sink. 

“I may not have a soul, but I still have a heart.”

You grunt, topping up both glasses before setting the bottle aside. 

“News to me.” 

He turns to face you slowly, hands braced on the edge of the sink. He’s looking toward you, but not really looking at you. 

“Would you rather I left you out there?” He asks. 

“You sure as hell left me out to dry at the party last night.” 

“Well, you weren’t at risk of dying of exposure at the party.” 

“...What’d you tell Charity about me?”

“Just that we were together for a while. Mom and dad corroborated.” 

“A while,” You repeat with a scoffing laugh. “Three years is more than a while, Daniel.”

“You know what I mean.” 

“That’s all you told her? That made her lead me into the middle of the fucking woods?”

Daniel’s lips press into a thin line, his gaze dropping to the floor as he seems to consider his answer.

“You’re the only other woman I’ve ever brought home, and she’s…She’s accustomed to a certain standard of living. Guess she felt threatened.”

“There’s no way a woman like that could feel threatened by me.” 

Daniel smiles a little bit, shaking his head and turning back to the sink. 

“Oh—don’t pretend you’re gonna do the dishes, Daniel Le Domas. You’re not fooling anyone.” 

Daniel chuckles, turning from the sink and nodding, “Yeah, alright. What do you wanna do?”

“...Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“I just wanna go to bed.” 

Daniel nods, hands tapping on the counter. 

“Alright. Let’s go over how to set the security system, and then you can just sleep in whatever bedroom you want.”

“You’re not staying?” The question leaves you with a nervous tone. Daniel’s mouth moves wordlessly for a second before he admits,

“Uh…Wasn’t planning on it.” Then, after a moment of apprehensive silence between the two of you, “Do you want me to?” 

– 

He sets the alarm ahead of the two of you going upstairs. You find yourself lingering in the stairway, watching him. Some nervous little part of you is terrified that he’ll simply leave, that he’ll raise the alarm to his family that he’s found you. But he comes to join you at the stairs and sets a hand on your lower back, guiding you upstairs. He leads you to the master bedroom, and lingers in the doorway. 

You think for another panicked moment that he may not join you, but he walks the rest of the way inside, shutting and locking the door behind the two of you. 

“Don’t turn the light on,” He urges as you reach for a lamp. 

“You think they’re watching that closely?” 

“Who fucking knows with them.”

You lower yourself onto the side of the bed. 

“What exactly do you think they’ll do if they find us?” You frown.

“Make us go back. What, you dying to see James right now?”

“We’re adults. We can do whatever the fuck we want.” 

“Sure.”

“...Daniel.” 

He doesn’t answer you this time. He just sits on the edge of the bed and tugs his shoes off. You sigh, pushing yourself back against the headboard. 

“You never could stand up to them. That was the problem.”

“That was half the problem,” He argues. 

“Oh yeah? What was the other half?” 

“Don’t. Don’t start.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“You really wanna do this now?” 

“Can’t think of a better time.”

Daniel hops up from the bed, beginning to pace irritatedly. You watch him as he goes, back and forth, back and forth. 

“What was the other half?” You press.

“You’re not like us!” 

It leaves him in a manic burst, and it sucks the air out of your lungs. You know that you’re not like them. 

“No, I’m not,” You agree, irritation surging through you. “I’m not rich, I’m not from a fucking legacy, I’m not—”

“That’s what you think this is about?” Daniel laughs a little hysterically. He whirls toward you, crossing the room in quick, steady strides. You’re stunned as he sits beside you and takes your hands in his. 

“You’re not ruthless,” He swears, eyes wide. His hands begin to shake around yours. “You’re not self-involved, you’re not…You’re not hollow.”

Your eyes search his palid, stricken face. 

“Daniel,” You breathe, drawing a hand from his and cupping his cheek. “Neither are you.”

Daniel doesn’t answer. He just tips his head forward, resting his forehead against your shoulder. You can feel him pulling in deep breaths, trying to steady himself as his hands tighten around yours. You slide your hand to rest on the nape of his neck, smoothing your thumb up and down. 

You should be more irate. Your welcome during the weekend has been less than hospitable. Daniel has been an asshole—an aloof shithead, and a complete moron.

But he came looking for you. 

James would never come looking for you. 

You dip your head, nuzzling his dark curls gently. You suck in a stunned breath as his arms curl around your middle, drawing you closer. You feel Daniel tip his chin up, feeling his nose brush your jaw. A familiar anticipatory tingle makes its way through your belly. You turn your head down toward him, intent on saying that you ought to go to bed—but Daniel’s nose brushes yours. You hold one another’s gazes with steady, nervous care. Daniel’s fingers curl in the fabric of the shirt you’re wearing. 

This is a bad idea. You’re technically still dating James, though he’s got a sense of inflated ego, and an absolute disregard for you. Daniel is married. 

Daniel’s eyelids flutter slightly as you nuzzle your nose against his. His hand slides down, fingers skimming tantalizingly along the bare skin exposed between the henley and the sweatpants. 

“I always liked you in my shirts,” He mumbles, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Daniel—” 

“Loved it when I could see that you were mine.” His teeth graze your jaw, making your shoulders tighten, your stomach churning with surprise. 

“Daniel,” You repeat weakly. “We shouldn’t. I—You’re married—” 

Before the protest can leave you fully, Danicel reels back. You watch him tug off his wedding ring, flinging it into the far corner. You hardly have time to hear the gold ping against the ground before Daniel is grasping your face and drawing you in. 

You go. You shouldn’t, but you do. You lean into Daniel, a shivering moan leaving you as he laps lustily across your lips. You know that him throwing his ring off makes no difference to what you’re doing. If anything, it simply means you won’t have the band of metal pressing into your skin. But you push yourself up, kneeling to straddle his hips. He tips head back, mouth opening in a groan as you cradle the base of his skull in your hands. You can’t help the wiggle and twitch of your hips down against his. Daniel tips back against the mattress, drawing you down with him. 

Kissing Daniel is at once foreign and familiar. You know the favored tipping of his head, the slide of his lips. You know the way his hands shift and slide and squeeze as he likes and where he likes. But you haven’t been kissed or held or touched like this in such a long time. Sex with James is a dispassionate; kisses are perfunctory; touches are rare, and fleeting. 

Daniel rolls you over, climbing over you. His knees press into the mattress, pushing you further up the mattress as his hands brace on either side of your head. He grips the hem of the henley, shoving it up to your neck. You wriggle it off, tossing it over the side of the bed and whining as Daniel dips his head to your breasts. His tongue flickers out, tipping back and forth, swirling and teasing your pebbling nipples. You whine, pressing your hips up against his and tightening your grip in his hair. 

You can still stop. You can tell Daniel that you shouldn’t do this—that it’s wrong. You do raise your hands, pushing at his shoulders. Daniel reels back, lips pinking and swollen as he straightens, watching you. You raise your hands to the buttons of his suit pants, hurriedly unbuttoning and unzipping them before shoving them down around his thighs. He steps out of them, kicking them away. You lean up, undoing the buttons on his shirt from the bottom as he undoes them from the top. Your hands meet in the middle, and you push at the shirt, shoving it off of his shoulders. You lower a hand to the growing bulge in his briefs, swiping your tongue along your lower lip. You slide your fingers into the waistband, tugging them down around his thighs. You take him in hand, sliding your hand over his hard length. You turn your head, tongue flicking against his glans. He groans low in his throat, hand flexing against your shoulder. He watches you intently as you take him between his lips, bobbing his head and moaning around him. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He mumbles, “Just—Fuck—Just like that.” 

You preen under his praise, picking up your pace and swiping your tongue along the underside of his cock. He rests his hands on your cheeks, holding your head still as he controls the length and pace of his pleasure. You let him draw you deeply onto his cock, and struggle not to choke and gag on him. You draw back with a wet gasp, tongue swiping along your lower lip as he peers down at you. He gives your jaw a shove before he bends down, hands tucking beneath your thighs and easing you further back against your bed. You hardly have a moment to adjust before Daniel is diving between your thighs. He spreads your lips, lapping broadly against your wetting pussy with a groan. 

You pull in a stunned little breath, the sensation trickling along the base of your spine. He sucks a kiss to your cunt, then another before swipes his tongue along your clit. Your thighs tense, heels digging into the mattress. You use the leverage to roll your hips down against his hungry mouth. His stubble catches against your tender skin. He seals his mouth over your pussy, nose brushing your pubic mound. He watches each twitch and grind, eyes half-lidded and hazy as he draws back with a slick suck. He leans back just a touch, easing two fingers into you in one firm push. Your jaw drops at the stretching sensation, cunt fluttering around his thick digits. 

“Dan—Daniel, fuck,” You whimper. He hums encouragingly, tongue making firm, upward flicks over your throbbing clit. He leans back, eyeing your spit- and cum-slicked cunt before he draws away, slapping your hip. You roll over, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. Daniel is on the bed and behind you before you can draw in a deep breath. He curls his arm around your neck, steadying you as he eases into you. Your head hangs heavy, eyes slipping shut as you revel in the press of his thick cock, and the pressure of his arm against your neck. 

Daniel presses himself flush to your back, nipping and sucking across your neck and shoulders. You grind back against him desperately, pussy dripping and gripping at him. 

“Fuck,” He groans into your neck, breath hot against your neck, “Fuck I missed you, baby.” 

You can feel tears welling in your eyes, and you squeeze them shut tightly. Your bodies move as one. You revel in the press of his chest against your back, and the dip and slap of his fingers against your nipple. You tip your head back against him, whining as he takes your nipple between his knuckles, twiddling it just enough to make you throb around him. 

“Daniel,” You whimper.

It’s too much—missing him, seeing him, being held in a way that you haven’t been held in years. 

--  

“...I think I can see the sun,” You mumble. You’re boneless and sleepy, worn out as you eye the windows. Daniel sighs softly, nuzzling against your stomach. 

“We’ll have to go soon,” He mumbles, “But hey. ‘Least we made it to morning. It’s possible.” 

You frown, shifting your head on the pillow to get a better look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Daniel doesn’t answer. He just takes hold of your hand, toying tenderly with your fingers. “...Daniel.” 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” 

“Better button-up on the petnames,” You warn, “And better figure out where the heck you threw your ring.”

“I’ll just get another one. It’s not the first one I’ve lost.” 

“Not the first one you’ve lost, or not the first one you’ve thrown?” 

“Same-same.” 

You roll your eyes, resting your hand beneath your head and peering up at the ceiling. 

There have been moments throughout the night that you’ve felt like you once did with Daniel—cared for, buoyant. Happy. 

Maybe it’s been his enthusiasm. Maybe it’s the almost absolute certainty that this is the last time you’ll see him. Either way, you’ve found a spot of joy in this hellish weekend. Daniel pushes himself up over you, hands on either side of your head. 

“Promise me something,” He murmurs. 

“What?” “Promise me you’ll find someone good for you.” 

“...James hasn’t been all that—” 

“Promise me.” 

He’s so firm about it, so insistent that you can’t bring yourself to tell him that he’s someone good for you—that you want him and only him, if he can shake himself from the grips of his family. So you raise your hands, stroking gently over his cheeks. 

“Alright,” You murmur, nodding. “I promise.” 

Daniel nods, lowering his forehead to yours. 

“Promise me something else,” He murmurs. 

“What is it?”

“Never, ever play hide and seek.” 

“Why not?” You pout. “I’m good at it.” 

“Promise, or I’m not letting you out of this bed.” 

“You’re giving me fewer reasons to promise.” 

“...Please.” His voice is quiet and wavers like a frightened little boy’s. You nod a little despite yourself and murmur, “Alright. Alright, I promise.” 

Daniel sighs softly, lowering himself against your again and nuzzling into your neck. The two of you lay together, eyeing the window and watching the sky lighten. Daniel’s hands smooth up your sides and thighs. You hear him sigh heavily, and peer down at him. 

“What is it?” You murmur. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen a nicer sunrise.” 

[nyangibun]

Darling You

Ready Or Not: Daniel x Grace

“Grace likes being alone. She's good at being alone. In fact, she finds her own company perfectly delightful.

That is until she meets single dad, Daniel, and his adorable, a little-too-honest little girl, Lily.

Suddenly, she can't imagine anything worse than being alone.“

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

Grace meets Daniel on a cold drizzly afternoon. She is holed up in the corner of a quaint little cafe somewhere in Brooklyn. Although it’s far off the beaten path, the whole cafe is filled to the brim with people today. As a regular, this is a surprise for Grace, especially when she had left the comforts of her apartment – on her day off no less – for this place. She finds solace in at least managing to secure her usual cosy armchair in the back.

Of course, her moment of peace and quiet is dashed when a man comes running into the cafe, dripping wet, followed by a little girl, who has a plastic bag wrapped around her head. Grace tries not to stare and focus instead on her book but she can’t help looking at the odd pair surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye. She hears the man make his order but she doesn’t catch a name.

Grace shakes her head and looks back at her book. She doesn’t usually have quiet days like these any more. Now that she is taking on more and more projects, she really needs to savour the precious few hours she actually gets to sit, read and lose herself to the world.

She’s managed to read one whole page since she stopped trying to eavesdrop on the newcomers when said newcomers walk over to her corner of the cafe.

“Sorry to bother you,” the man begins. “But there aren’t any free seats. Do you mind if we sit here?”

Grace looks up from her book into dark hazel eyes and a mop of unruly brown hair matted to his forehead. He is really, really cute. It’s the first thing she thinks, which is why it takes her a second too long to reply. She nods. “Oh... Sure. Um, go ahead.”

Both he and his daughter, she assumes, quickly peel off their jackets and plop down on the sofa opposite Grace.

“Lily, drink your hot chocolate slowly,” the man says quietly. He has a very pleasant voice, she muses.

The little girl shakes her head like a wet dog, droplets of water flying everywhere. One lands on Grace’s nose and she wipes it away with the back of her hand, more bemused than anything else.

“Hey!” her dad exclaims as he jumps back, startled. “Are you serious right now? C’mon, kid!”

Lily giggles with a mischievous glint in her eyes, which Grace notes are identical to her dad’s. “Soooooorrrryyyyyyyyy,” she drawls out. She looks over to Grace and catches her staring at them. “Sorry, miss,” she says again.

The man sighs and reaches over to pull the hood of the girl’s sweater over her head. “Sorry about that. Apparently, I’ve failed to teach her any manners.”

“It’s because I don’t have a mama,” Lily quips instantly. “She was a stone-cold bitch.”

“Jesus freaking Christ, Lily!” The man drops his face into his hands. “Language!”

“But you said it!”

“And you were supposed to be asleep!” he replies, groaning into his palms. He looks up, his eyes meeting Grace’s. “Once again, I’m so sorry.”

Grace puts down her book – this is clearly more interesting – and chuckles. “It really is okay. She’s definitely the most interesting kid I’ve ever met.” She offers her hand towards the little girl. “Hi, I’m Grace.”

Read more on Ao3!

[wrathofthestag]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ready or Not (2019) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Daniel Le Domas/Grace Le Domas Characters: Daniel Le Domas, Grace Le Domas, Alex Le Domas, The Le Domas Family Additional Tags: Time Loop, Rich People Really Are Different, I’d Choose You Summary:

The worst part of reliving the same night over and over is not the various paths she could’ve taken but that no matter the path, the end result remains the same.

Her in-laws explode and her husband betrays her.

(Not, obviously, in that order.)

Just rewatched this gem last night and remembered this amazing fic existed.

[goddesspharo]

fic: what would an angel say? (the devil wants to know) Ready or Not (Grace Le Domas/Daniel Le Domas)

"The devil liked your moxie?" Of course, Le Bail would leave her to be the keeper of her husband's betrayal. Grace considers letting Daniel have this one thing to still believe in, but the larger part of her that is swirling with rage and betrayal at anyone with his – their – last name knows that Alex doesn't deserve his brother's loyalty even in death.

[trashy-greyjoy]

who’s gonna save us now (when the ashes hit the ground) | grace x daniel | ready or not | fix-it fic | 18k |

The ghosts of his family watch them from the corner. They can both feel them. Like they’re piled on their shoulders, pressing them down, down, down… 

“We’re alive,” he can’t look at her. He stares through his mother’s forehead at the yellow and orange painting on the wall. Sunflowers. 

“Yeah.” She can’t look at him either, her eyes downcast at the unspoken implication of the statement. They aren’t.

“How?”

Her cheeks feel hot with tears that smell like blood.

“I don’t know.”