#please don’t curse me nonnas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jjmaybanksbaby · 4 years ago

Text

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer III

Part 06: Round And Round

series masterlist | previous part

summary: It seems like the stars have finally aligned to give Rafe Cameron and you a summer of blissful happiness.

a/n: This got a little longer than I expected but I'm not mad at it. I had to give them at least one summer of being cute together before the other shoe drops. The final part to this series will be out Thursday!

word count: 3.2k words (warning this gets decently smutty 18+)

The Island Club had a special glow to it as the sun sunk below the horizon and the thousands of fairy lights strung up around the yard flickered on. A breeze rippled through the warm summer air, making the perfect kind of weather. You took in the sight. The people mingling on the lawn, all dressed in their best clothing. Waiters dashing around, keeping everyone's drinks filled. Bits and pieces of conversations floated up into the night.

You'd finally settled on a long, black satin gown with a deep v-neck that’d you'd found hidden away on the sale rack. Your mother had fussed over how plain it was and how much skin it showed but you were sure it was the right dress from the moment you slipped it on. You'd agreed to let your mom twist your hair into a single braid that fell down your back and she’d stuck bobby-pins with tiny rhinestones in at random intervals. You had painted your lips a deep crimson red to pull it all together.

You were starting to understand the appeal of the whole thing. There was a certain feeling of glamour to the night. Your eyes roamed the lawn noticing Cleo and Milo snuggled close together on the dance floor, swaying to the soft music playing. That was new. Good for them. They looked happy together.

Most people were already here since your Nonna had insisted on being fashionably late.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you heard Rafe's voice from behind you. You turned around and the sight of him made your mind go blank. You'd let yourself picture how Rafe Cameron might look in a suit but the real deal was so much better.

Rafe cleared his throat snapping you back to reality. "You look nice," he said, the compliment bringing a smile to your face.

"You too, Cameron."

"Hey, come with me. I wanna talk to you." He reached down, taking your hand and you slipped your fingers between his, letting him lead you back inside. Almost every person you passed seem to know Rafe and smiled at him or stopped for a quick "hello."

He pulled open a heavy door and ushered you inside. It was the same bathroom where you'd meet Sarah for the first time while trying to escape boring lunch small talk. What were you doing here? Rafe leaned down, checking that all the stalls were in fact empty before turning the hatch on the door to lock it.

Rafe smiled at you widely. "Hi," he muttered as he brought his hand up to cup your face, running his thumb over your cheek.

The butterflies sprung up in your stomach almost immediately.

"Hi," you said back quietly, afraid of breaking the moment.

He walked you backward gently until you felt the cool wall against the exposed skin of your back.

His mouth was dangerously close to yours. His other hand landed on your thigh and he slowly slide it upwards. You weren't sure if you cursed buying a dress with such a high slit or were grateful for the easy access.

“Rafe, we can't do this again. Not here,” you warned but you were sure he could see right through your words. “We were both drunk last time.”

“And I’m completely sober now.” His hand inched closer to your core.

“Do you even remember it?”

“Do you really think I would have dragged you in here and have you pressed up against this wall if I didn’t? Yes, I remember it y/n. I remember the whole very clearly.”

Rafe dropped his voice to just above a whisper. He smoothed his thumb over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want this.” But you did want. You wanted it so badly it was killing you. Every bit of you turned to jelly under his touch and you wanted Rafe’s hands all over your body. You had zero interest in telling him to stop. His fingers ghosted over your underwear and you let out a whine without realizing it. “See, I’m barely even touching you and you’re already whining for me.”

Your forehead dropped to his shoulder as he moved your underwear aside, dipping his fingers into your folds.

“Ah, ah, ah. Look at me, baby.” Rafe said, pushing your head back upright before he moved his hand down to wrap his fingers around your throat. His eyes meet yours. This was a different side of Rafe. Rougher and wild but incredibly sexy.

Another moan caught in your throat as he pushed two fingers inside of you. “Fuck, Rafe.”

Your back arched off the wall and a loud moan tumbled off your lips as he hit the sweet spot inside of you. “Good girl,” Rafe praised. His words turning you on even more.

Rafe could tell you were nearing your climax and slide his fingers out suddenly.

“Fuck you, Cameron,” you spit.

He laughed. “Please, it couldn’t be more evident that you want to,” he replied, hiking your dress all the way up to your waist, pulling your lacy underwear down to the floor before undoing his belt and kicking his own pants off. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his dress shirt, desperately pulling it open to run your hands over his beautifully chiseled abdomen.

His clothed dick, bulging out of his boxers, rubbed against your clit and your hips bucked up automatically, craving the friction.

Rafe ran his thumb over your bottom lip, slipping it into your mouth as it naturally fell open. “God, you look so fucking hot right now y/n. So so pretty.” He pushed your hips back against the wall, harshly. “But let’s remember, I’m in charge here.”

“Please, Rafe,” you begged. You knew he was going to keep teasing you, loving the way you squirmed under his words.

Rafe pushed his boxer down this knees freeing his hard cock before pulling a condom out of the jacket, unrolling it over his dick. He lined it up with your entrance, pushing into your slowly. The pace almost making you cry out.

“Jesus, Cameron. Fuck me already if you’re going to,” you hissed, annoyed with the ends he was pushing you to.

Rafe chuckled, his eyes locked with yours as he slammed his whole length into you. You bit down on your bottom lip trying to stay quiet.

Rafe reached down, hooking your leg around his waist so he could enter you at a new angle. Your arms wrapped around his shoulder, holding onto him for support. Your breath hitched as his thumb began to rub small circles on your clit.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," Rafe said, his own breathing uneven. "I needed to do this again."

His mouth attached to your neck, kissing and sucking and you were sure you would find a hickey there tomorrow morning. He rested his forehead on yours, your mouths an inch apart.

You could feel your release growing closer and closer. Rafe's own movements were getting sloppy and desperate. He closed the distance, landing his lips on yours, catching your moans as you came undone. He continued to kiss you, slipping his tongue into your mouth, finishing just seconds later.

Neither of you moved for a few moments, savoring the feeling of just holding each other. Your lips met again, the kiss was sweet and slower but still full of passion.

“That was a super productive conversation, Cameron,” you joked.

“I didn’t come here to have one.” He smirked, moving away from you to slip back on his pants. You walked over to the mirror to evaluate how disheveled Rafe’s impromptu due need to fuck had left you. Some piece of hair had sipped out of your braid but they framed your face nicely making it look almost intentional so you could definitely get away with it. Your red lipstick was noticeably gone. If your mom got suspicious, you’d have to blame it on not being able to find a straw. Though the stain on Rafe’s own lips might give you away.

Rafe came up from behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. You watched his movements in the mirror.

With a face like pretty it really was no surprise you found yourself in situations like this. Not that you were complaining. But Rafe had this pull on you that was truly indescribable but impossible to resist.

“Should we get back out there?” You asked. “People might start wondering where you went.”

“Let them,” Rafe replied, placing another kiss on your neck, just below the edge of your jaw. It was your favorite place to feel his lips on you. That spot in particular sent a shiver through your body whenever he kissed it.

“I’ll go first and you follow in five minutes.”

“We can just leave together,” he countered.

“Phoebe might see.”

Rafe hesitated, picking up on the double meaning of your words but wanting to avoid a fight over it. “Okay. You go first.”

☼☼☼

You let yourself get pulled into Rafe Cameron’s orbit for the remainder of the summer. You became a regular figure at the group’s parties, becoming especially fast friends with Riley as you spent more time together and bonded over the world that was high school theater. Milo had claimed you as his beer pong partner from the beginning and the two of you had managed to remain undefeated. The evenings usually ended in you and Rafe sneaking away to his house or yours, the culmination of sly glances and flirtatious winks you’d been teasing each other with the entire time. You left your window perpetually unlocked and learned how to dart across the Cameron’s front lawn without making the motion-sensor lights go off.

One summer night, near the middle of July, you were standing on Rafe's front porch having slipped out quietly when the light clicked on illuminated the yard, You froze, fearing you'd been caught by Rose or worse by Ward but instead, Sarah stepped out of the shadows, her eyes equally wide with fear of being caught.

"Shit, she cursed, half giggling. "I usually don't make that go off."

"Where have you been?" You asked her playfully.

"I meet a boy," she confessed.

Your features contorted into a smile seeing the happiness radiating off Sarah.

"Aw Sarah. I'm so happy for you. Just be safe, okay?" It was hard to believe but Sarah was now the same age you'd been when you and Rafe had first meet.

"Don't worry, y/n. Nothing's even happened. We just sit in his room, talking for hours," she paused, finally realizing the strangeness of you standing on her front porch in the early hours of the morning. "Oh my God. Wait? Are you and Rafe...? It’s about time."

You held out your hand to shush her. The look on your face giving away all your secrets.

"You're good for him," Sarah added. "You're good for each other."

The light clicked off again, the darkness of the night enveloping the two of you.

"That's my cue." You reached out, pulling Sarah in for a quick hug, placing a loving kiss in her blonde hair.

"Bye." She squeezed her arms tighter around your waist before letting go.

☼☼☼

You knocked on the door of Sawyer's pool house, the location the group had decided on for the night after a rather fierce argument in the group chat, one you had pointedly stayed our off. Rafe opened the door, smiling at your presence before stepping outside, pulling the door closed behind him.

He leaned down for a kiss. "Hi," he said.

"Hi," you replied, your lips meeting his.

His hand automatically reached for yours. "C'mon. I wanna do something fun tonight."

"But isn't everyone in there?" You pointed behind him.

"Yeah, but it's just gonna be the same boring thing. Sawyer's drunk already because he can't hold his alcohol for shit. Phoebe thinks we should hit up some touran's party. And Cleo and Milo are no-shows. So let’s go do something else."

You shrugged. You'd much rather have Rafe all to yourself anyway. "Okay, where are we going?"

“It’s a surprise.”

Ten minutes later and Rafe was pulling into the desert parking lot of his high school. “Welcome to the Kook Academy. That’s not it’s actual name but everyone on the island just calls it that since none of the pogues can afford to go here.”

The lofty walls of the private school loomed above you. It looked like a fucking castle that belonged in the rolling heels of Europe, definitely not in the middle of North Carolina.

“C’mon. You can see practically the entire island from the roof.”

“How the hell are we gonna get up there?” You asked.

“The lacrosse team pulled this sweet prank last season and I still have the keys to the roof. Plus, it’s summer. No one’s even here.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Rafe Cameron.”

He leaned across the middle console, sliding a hand being your neck and pulling your face close into his. “I promise it’ll be worth it,” he said before landing his lips on yours.

Soon you were climbing into his lips, straddling his hips. The roof-top adventure temporarily put on hold. You gripped his blonde locks as his hands worked their way under your shirt.

"I thought we were breaking into your high school?" You tesed.

"We are. Right now, I'm just trying to break into your bra," Rafe answered.

"Okay." You shoved his hand away. "On account of the fact that that was the worst comeback I've ever heard, let's go."

"I can't help it. Your tits were distracting me," he answered, trying to reach for them again.

You swatted his hand away "Rafe."

"Party pooper," he replied with a frown.

"You're such a drama queen." You leaned down for a quick kiss, tearing your lips away before he had the chance to pull you in deep.

Rafe hadn't lied. The view from the roof was breathtaking. You could see all the way to the end of the island from the top of the fourth-story building. The cars moving below were tiny dots, the people even smaller. You stood at the edge, your eyes fixed on the churning ocean stretching beyond the horizon. The whole thing felt eternal.

Rafe's eyes watched your own, the glint in them growing as you took in the sight.

"Holy shit, Rafe. This is amazing," you said, wrapping your arms tight around his neck, not looking away from the skyline.

"I thought you might think so."

The two of you stayed like that and watched the sun disappear below the horizon in a blaze of orange and pink glory before the dark night sky littered with brights stars replaced it.

The wind nipped at your skin, fiercer up here than on the ground. It made you snuggle into Rafe's side, stealing his body heat to stay warm.

"Ready to go back down?" Rafe asked.

"Not yet." You weren't prepared for this moment to end. You longed to stay in it, here, with him, for as long as you could.

"Okay," Rafe answered, pulling your back closer into his chest and wrapping his arms tighter around you to fight off the cold. "Okay," he repeated. He let a few more minutes pass before breaking the silence again.

“I bought you something.”

You turned to face him, eyebrows raised in surprise. Rafe had money, obvious, but you never knew him to be much of a gift-giver. Mostly, because he was hyperaware that the money belonged to Ward, not him. Rafe reached into his back pocket, producing a small black velvet box. You took it from his outstretched hands and opened it. Inside, lay a beautiful gold necklace with a single dainty star.

You look up at Rafe tears welling in your eyes from the romantic gesture. Your heart swelled. “Oh my God. I love it, Rafe.” I love you. You stopped yourself before those three little words, three words more explosive than dynamite, had the chance to slip out as well.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s only a necklace. Want me to put it on you?”

You nodded, handing Rafe back the box. You lifted up your hair up with one hand and he carefully draped the necklace around your neck, fastening the clasp in the back.

Rafe smiled at the look of it hanging around your neck like a reminder that you always had him, that you would always have him.

“Thank you, babe. I seriously love it.” You took the necklace between your fingers peering down at it.

“Anything for my girl.”

☼☼☼

Hours later, you were back in Rafe’s room, laying on top of him, your naked stomachs pressed together, your head resting on his chest, your legs intertwined beneath the comforter. Rafe ran his index finger lazily up and down your arm, goosebumps springing up in its wake. You lifted your head off his chest to look at him.

“I think we should maybe talk about what happened last summer," you started.

“Why?” He asked back.

“Uh, cause you told me to pick and I didn’t pick you. But then I get back to the Outer Banks and we sleep together within the first week.”

“But you’re not dating Evan anymore.”

“Right.”

“So what’s there to talk about. You’re free to fuck anybody you want. Preferably me, right now, again.” He eagerly moved you so that your already sensitive core, from the night's earlier activities, was straddling his thigh. You groaned at the contact, quickly shifting away as not to let him distract you from the conversation.

“What about Phoebe?” You asked.

“What about Phoebe?”

“Well, you took her to Midsummers.”

“Cause we’re friends and I knew it would make Ward happy.”

You paused. “But we’re friends.”

“Baby, trust me. Phoebe and I are not the same kind of friends me and you are.” His palm landed on your back, rubbing small comforting circles.

"Meaning you're not sleeping with her?" The words came as a question, though you’d meant it as a statement.

"Definitely not." Rafe paused. "It's just you."

This was the closest you'd come to having the 'What are we?' conversation. You had suspected the two of you had been exclusive for some time but it was refreshing to hear Rafe say it aloud.

"Yeah, it's just you for me too," you replied.

You started to move off Rafe's warm body. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“I gotta get home. My mom’s started going on these crazy 6 a.m morning runs and I’m afraid she’s gonna catch me sneaking it.” You leaned down to kiss him again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Ward and I are leaving for those college visits tomorrow.”

Oh shit, you had forgotten about that. “And my flight back’s the week after that.” The implication of your words hung in the air. The summer was coming to a close and you couldn’t stop it.

“It’s okay y/n. We’ll call and text during the school year and next summer you’ll be back.”

“Right,” you agreed, trying to ignore the sinking feeling growing in your stomach. You had the summer-fling of your dreams with Rafe and here he was promising to stay in touch so why didn’t it feel good? Why didn't it feel right?

“I gotta go. Have a good trip.” You took Rafe's face in your hands hoping to kiss away the uneasy feeling. Rafe's hands wandered down to cup your butt, pulling you back on top of him.

“Rafe...” you trailed off as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

“Shhh,” he mumbled back.

You knew you should probably pull yourself away from him, staying would cut it too close with your mom but the way his hands roamed your body was making it hard to think about anything rationally. He rolled your hips against his already hard-again dick. Fuck, the things this boy did to you were dangerous. Besides, maybe this would distract you from that achy feeling you had about the future so you let yourself kiss Rafe back desirously.

But two weeks later, as the tires of your plane lifted off the runway, en route back to Oregan, that feeling hadn’t gone away in the slightest.

taglist! @oreoenthusiast13 [drop a ☀️ in my inbox or messages if you want to be added]

#outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #obx #obx netflix #obx fanfic #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron smut

69 notes · View notes

louiseleblancdiggory · 4 years ago

Note

Hiding-your-face hug for Rowaelin please

Little but cute. This is heavily influenced by where I was raised so know that where I come from we call everyone uncle and aunt if they are family friend’s since your childhood. That does not mean they are family, it’s just a type of nickname. Meaning their kids are also not your cousins! Enjoy!!

Matchmaking dances

Aelin loved her nonna’s birthday parties.

Technically, nonna wasn’t her grandmother, but she had been in Aelin’s life since birth. Aelin’s parents were best friends with nonna’s kids, and so Aelin had been raised with her around. Her father, Rhoe, used to tell Aelin stories of his childhood. Stories of meeting her mom, Evalin, and her sister, Adelpha, when they were still kids. Stories with Viktor and Amidala, nonna’s kids, and Gavriel, Cal and Marion.

Rhoe and Evalin were the first to get married, followed then by Gavriel and Adelpha. Cal and Marion married a few years later, and in the mean time Viktor had married a woman named Gaia and Amidala married her college boyfriend, Quinn.

They had been friends since their childhoods, and when they all got married and had their own kids, they were raised together too.

Aelin’s whole childhood had been filled with memories of Elide, Aedion, Fenrys and Rowan. They had all lived near each other, but spent most of their free time in nonna’s house. Her childhood had been filled with days spent in the family estate’s garden, the house in the outskirts of the city. All five of them running around the house, almost breaking old vases and sculptures. Days spent inside the library whenever it was raining, just quietly reading or talking. Days spent at the infirmary with aunt Marion tending to their cuts and bruises, and nights spent camping on the backyard, jumping over the fire, counting the stars. All those years playing and growing together could never be forgotten by her.

The parties, however, were the best. The whole family and family friends would come together and they would celebrate from sunrise to sunrise. Aelin remembered playing tag with Elide and Fenrys. Remembered playing pranks on the adults with Aedion. Remembered grumbling every time nonna forced her and Rowan to dance. It had happened since both could walk, and it had grew extremely uncomfortable when both had the age to realize that nonna was trying to pair them up. They complained every time after that, although as they grew even older, both waited excitedly for the dancing part.

They were absolutely horrendous dancing, making up their own steps and butchering the original choreography.

Aelin barely had a memory that didn’t involve at least one of them, and she smiled whenever she thought of it.

As they grew old and moved away from the estate, the only time they really all visited at the same time was during big celebrations. Since she had opted to stay in Orynth and study art with her grand uncle Orlon, Aelin was the one that always managed to go back home and see everyone. Aedion had opted to stay in Orynth too, the two cousins sharing an apartment off campus. Elide had gone to Perranth, so she did come back but only on holidays and birthdays. To her nonna’s eternal sadness, Fen and Rowan had gone off to Doranelle, meaning that their visits were usually made by a video chat for the past three and a half years.

“Happy birthday, nonna!” Aelin said, smiling at the silver headed woman.

“A hundred and twenty seven, right?” Aedion said, and nonna hit him with a towel.

“Eighty, you little brat.” Nonna narrowed her eyes at Aedion, but he just laughed it off. “That’s why your cousin was my favorite.”

“We all know you always loved me more.” Aedion hummed, walking by her and giving her a peck on the cheek. “Is uncle Rhoe here?”

“In the back.” Nonna called and Aedion nodded, going to find Aelin’s dad.

“How is eighty, nonna?” Aelin asked softly, hugging the woman.

“Tiring. I’m sure that if I were to run after you and Rowan again to stop both from shaving off Fenrys’s dog, I’d break a hip.”

Aelin’s cheeks heated, but she smiled nonetheless. “That was once.”

“The two of you.” Nonna laughed, hugging Aelin’s side and walking her to the back. “All five were little devils, but the combination of you and Rowan alone was enough to bring this house down if you weren’t supervised.”

“It really was.” Aelin heard a sweet voice coming from the backyard, Elide walking in their direction with a devilish smile on her face. She wore a small wrap summer dress like Aelin, but instead of red, hers was purple. “It is good that Rowan didn’t go to college with Ace. I can only imagine the catastrophe.”

“You’re such a—“ Aelin said, mouthing bitch.

“I’m not stupid, Aelin Galathynius.” Nonna pestered, making sure to let Aelin know that her attempt of not cursing in front of elders had failed, and Elide cackled. “I need to speak to Aed’s mom. I’ll tell Adelpha you said hi, Aelin.”

“Thanks.” Aelin said, walking up to Elide and giving her friend a hug.

“Don’t get into trouble the two of you.”

“We would never!” Elide shouted back, but the smile she gave Aelin promised the contrary. “We have a surprise to nonna.”

“We?”

“Yes, we.” Aelin turned back at the voice, smiling at her aunt Amidala and her uncle Quinn. “My Fenrys called yesterday. He and Rowan are coming today to celebrate nonna’s birthday. Viktor and Gaia are ecstatic to see their son again.”

Aelin turned around to see her father and mother talking to Viktor and Gaia. As if they could feel her stare, both turned to her and smiled. Uncle Viktor was usually serious, reserving his smiles. Aunt Gaia, though, was always a happy presence. With her silver hair and blue eyes, the woman looked like a goddess. Rowan looked so much like both of them. He had his mother’s hair and smile, but his father’s eyes, face and seriousness. Aelin smiled back and waved at them.

“When?” She turned back to Amidala and Quinn. “I haven’t seen the two in ages.”

Aelin was beyond excited because of it. She had only talked to Ro and Fen through phone and postcards, and she couldn’t wait to see both in person again. For the next few hours, Aelin spent most of her time with Elide and Aed, all three sitting on the grass and laughing while retelling their childhood stories. They all held some sort of cocktail drink that uncle Gavriel had made them, and it was good enough that Aelin didn’t question what was inside, just asked for more when she emptied her glass. Morning ended and the afternoon sun was burning up. Aelin knew she should get up and put on some sunscreen if she didn’t want her face peppered with even more freckles, but she was feeling so calm and comfortable that she couldn’t bring herself to do so.

Coming back to nonna’s house with one of her friends always made her feel like this. She was twenty two, but sitting on the grass, laughing with Aed and Elide, she felt as if she was seven again. It was the greatest nostalgic feeling she could ever imagine.

“And then Aelin fell in the lake with Rowan.” Aedion was retelling the time both she and Rowan fell from a tree straight into the river nearby. Aedion was laughing so much he was doubling over, almost no sound coming out anymore. Aelin didn’t know if Elide was laughing at the story or at Aedion.

“Why is it always the stories where Rowan and I get fucked up that you all decide to tell?” Aelin grumbled, but she couldn’t help but laugh and smile too.

“Because you and Rowan had a penchant for trouble like no one else I have ever seen, that’s why.” Aelin heard a voice coming from behind her, and even before she could turn around, a huge smile was already on her lips. Standing there, a lot more taller than she remembered, was Fenrys.

“Oh my God!” Aelin screamed, standing up and tossing herself at Fenrys. He laughed and hugged her back, extending another arm for Elide who had also ran in his direction. “You’re back!”

“And for good this time.” Fenrys said and Aelin took a step back to stare up at him. Fen winked at her and Elide. “Ro and I decided to take the last semester in Orynth.”

“Rowan and Aelin in the same college. This will be a sight to behold.” Aedion said, getting up from his spot on the grass. He smiled at Fenrys, both sharing a hug. “Good to see you, Fen.”

Fenrys was going to reply something but Aelin interrupted him. “Where’s Rowan?”

Fenrys pointed a finger to a huge man with a silver head standing near her dad and uncles. “He’s—“

Aelin didn’t even stop to hear what he was gonna say next, tossing her sandals on the grass and running on Rowan’s direction. “Ro!”

Rowan’s head immediately snapped to her, a wide smile on his lips. He was talking something with his dad, but he fully turned to Aelin and took a few steps on her direction. Aelin threw herself at Rowan, her face hiding in his chest. His arms came around her, crushing her with the same force she was crushing him. Aelin’s feet weren’t touching the ground, Rowan holding her up by the hug.

“Oh my god, Ace.” He said, and although her face was against his chest, she could hear his smile. “I haven’t seen you in forever. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” She tried to say, but the words sounded muffled by his chest. He laughed, and she did too while drawing back her face and looking up at him. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He said softly.

“So,” they both broke their staring and turned to nonna standing a few feet away. Everyone was smiling at them, but nonna had be biggest smile of them all. “When are you two going to dance?”

Tags:

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling @lexflame @sleeping-and-books @annejulianneh111 @perseusannabeth @linshryver @mu-si-ca-l @camilamartinezdunne @dank-queen7 @minaidss @starborn-faerie-queen @booksofthemoon @abookishfreak @faerie-queen-fireheart @maastrash @morganofthewildfire @queen-of-glass

144 notes · View notes

dessarious · 4 years ago

Text

The Angel of Death Pt34

Inspired by this Story Starter by @someone-ev

AO3 Prologue Beginning Previous Next

Despite not getting to sleep until about four in the morning Tris was up again by seven looking through all her current job offers. There were always plenty to choose from so all she had to do was find one that matched up with her needs. First, it needed to be as far from Paris as possible. Second, it needed to be something she could do fast with minimal research. The point was to make people think she’d moved on after all so they wouldn’t come here to find her. Third, it needed to be something that she could make public and preferably brutal. Yes, the community would hear about it regardless, but she wanted them afraid to come after her. Leaving a few mutilated corpses would go a long way to discourage those that wanted to take out a legend.

By eight, she’d found the perfect target and sent an email to accept the job. She would be taking out a cartel leader in Brazil and the client wanted a message sent. There was even an offer of a bonus if she took out a couple of his lieutenants as well. Three to five bodies in a public forum with the amount of overkill completely up to her. This would overshadow everything that group of idiots had done to destroy her reputation. Now she just needed equipment. She called her normal supplier.

“Hey baby Death what’s happening?” Tris rolled her eyes at the nickname even though the person couldn’t see her.

“I take it you saw the garbage being posted on the darkweb then.” The other person let out a derisive snort.

“Please, how stupid do you think I am? You’ve been sending me your measurements for three years to make you custom gear. I'm well aware that you’re not an adult. I just hope for your sake you’ve still got a decent growth spurt in you because being that short all your life sucks.” That made Tris pause.

“So you’ve known all this time and you haven’t said anything?” Yes, discretion was necessary in this type of work. Just like her, no one knew Blake’s real identity. Backtracking shipments proved completely useless because they went through at least ten third parties before getting to their final destination. They used a voice changer anytime they spoke to someone so no one was even sure of age or gender. But Blake was the best and everyone knew it.

“Of course not.” They sounded insulted. “Oh and heads up, as soon as those idiots threw that information out there Talia and Deathstroke both contracted me for new weapons and asked about you. Make sure you watch yourself D, I’ve got to say I’d miss making all the insane shit you come up with.” Tris didn’t know whether to laugh or curse.

“Of course they did. If I place an order now how soon can you get it to Brazil?” There was a thoughtful hum on the line and Tris heard something in the background.

“For anyone else, two weeks. For you I can do it in three days if it’s not anything intricate. Two if it’s stuff you’ve already sent me plans for.” A relieved sigh escaped her. Knowing Talia was on her tail, she really needed to get moving. “Don’t worry D, I’ve got your back. Can’t lose one of my best customers now can I?”

“Thanks Blake, I owe you.”

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

After finishing with Blake Tris had gone back to sleep. She couldn’t arrive in Brazil too quickly since she’d just posted the video of Fu’s ‘murder’ a few hours ago. It would look far too suspicious if Talia ever did put the timeline together. She wasn’t worried about Deathstroke, he was rather easy to manipulate. It’s how she’d gotten the league to implode on itself in the first place. Talia was far less easy to handle and she’d rather not have that confrontation without a plan to take the other woman out permanently.

She woke up to yelling in the common area. Chloe mostly from the sounds of it. It sounded like all of their roommates were trying to calm her down and Tris heard her name more than once. She should probably go out there before the girl did something foolish. When she opened her door the others turned to her and there was dead silence.

“Did you need something?” Chloe and Adrien stared at her like she was an apparition while Luka and Kagami shared a shrug. Chloe unfroze first and ran to pull Tris into a crushing hug.

“Don’t ever do that again!” Tris wasn’t certain exactly what she was talking about but it wasn’t something everyone needed to hear.

“Why don’t we talk in my room?” Chloe leaned back to glare at her but seemed to have calmed down enough to think things through.

“Fine. Adrien, come on.” She sounded pissed. Tris probably would be too if she’d been drugged like that but it’s not like she’d just left them in the warehouse. She’d taken them home so they’d wake up in familiar surroundings. There really wasn’t any reason for her to be so upset. Once the door was closed Chloe unleashed her anger.

“What is wrong with you? We thought you were gone for good.” Tris just frowned at her, trying to understand why that was an issue.

“That was the point. Specifically, I need the adults to think I’ve taken off for good so they don’t lead others straight to me.” Chloe and Adrien knowing she was still here would be fine because it wouldn’t change their routine. If her Nonna or Wonder Woman started showing up at the school it would be a blaring sign that something was going on. It was attention she couldn’t afford.

“You could have at least texted us to let us know you were okay!” Chloe was getting louder again and Tris wasn’t sure why. She really needed a better grasp of teenage behavior.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Chloe looked like she was about to explode so Adrien took over.

“We woke up and our last memory was being in that warehouse. We didn’t know what had happened to you.” Tris frowned at them both in confusion.

“I can take care of myself. I thought that would have been clear by now.” They were both looking at her like she was an alien species again. Why did people look at her like that when they were the ones being irrational?

“We were still worried!” Chloe’s tone seemed to imply that she should understand but Tris didn’t. If they knew she could handle herself why would they worry?

“Tris, it’s nothing to do with your skills. When people can’t get in touch with someone they tend to imagine the worst case scenario.” That… sort of made sense.

“So you want me to apologize because you can’t control your imaginations?” Neither one seemed to know how to respond. Chloe opened her mouth a couple times but never managed any words and Adrien just kept blinking at her. People were so strange.

AO3 Prologue Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

@kceedraws @theatreandcomicfreak @krispydefendorpolice @magic-miraculous @chocolatecatstheron @mooshoon @northernbluetongue @interobanginyourmom @rebecarojas07 @dast218 @abrx2002 @damianette-is-life @yin-390 @fontegagrilledcheese @bigpicklebananatree @tbehartoo @nobodyw8s4evr @linim2503 @ladybug-182 @marinettepotterandplagg @daminett4life @thethirdwheelfriend @corabeth11 @emotionalsupportginger @shizukiryuu @toodaloo-kangaroo @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @sassakitty @my-name-is-michell @multplelifes @sassydepression @danielslilangel @winter-gardenflower @animegirlweeb @romanoff-queen @nanakeid @paradoxal-occurance @theg0ddesspersephone @hinata3487 @irontimetravelflower @the-real-gingakid @heaven428 @peachedpocky @justafanwarrior @gentlemanoftimetravel @18-fandoms-unite-08 @kittycatwowmeow @pale-lady-dreamer @i-is-mysterious @captainartsypants @write-for-your-life2 @queengeorgiaaa @schrodingers25 @thecaptainthunder @elspethshadow @stela-likes-drawing @loysydark @lozzybowe @renscorpio @elmokingkong @the-fusionist @tis-i-beanbandit @smolplantmum @iwantwhirlledpeasandlotsatrees @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @chocolateherringtacofan @how-to-fuction-properly

#maribat #marinette dupen chang #assassin mari #kidnapped au

166 notes · View notes

lovelyirony · 4 years ago

Note

if you’re taking prompts uhh “the darkness encroaches (you keep it at bay)” idk for who maybe tony?

Tony, for one thing, did not like the fact he was apparently part of a long line of magic-users.

His mom had always been tight-lipped about her own family history, even after she left dad and they moved back to New York.

Tony had asked one time about her family. They had to talk about family history in one of his classes, and there was no way in hell that he wanted to talk about Howard in any capacity that was even neutral. (After all for his debate class, he was talking about how much he sucked in terms of universal weaponry policy.)

Mom had given him a sharp look from the kitchen counter, and even though she was wearing rubber gloves and her hair was pushed back by a bandana that had little Mickey Mouse print on it, she still looked terrifying.

“They’re not worth mentioning, Tony. Make something up.”

“Geez, okay. Touchy subject...”

“Not touchy. Just not worth the time.”

Tony didn’t make a comment after that, because in all honesty he and his mom have never been excellent liars to each other, and this time is no exception.

He does make up his family history. He knows his family is probably from Italy somewhere, they moved in...1923? Yeah, that sounds good. And he’s named after an uncle.

(He isn’t.)

Tony doesn’t ask his mom again because he knows that she won’t give in or break down to answer his questions, and there’s probably good reason why he doesn’t know.

Oh, there’s a reason alright.

He likes science. He likes understanding things. In his (correct) opinion, magic is just science that no one understands yet. Everything has an explanation.

Well.

He accidentally set an asshole’s Mustang on fire.

To be fair, he was an asshole. He had been talking over the professor during every single slide in the lecture presentation for his lecture, and Tony had just about yelled in frustration.

So instead as he saw the guy rev his engine for his stupid fucking car and make a whole big scene about how he had a Mustang, how fucking cool is that you absolute shit-heel of a person-

Fire.

Nothing serious, but Tony knows he did it.

He could feel how his hands twitched, how something came to him and from him. Something not normal.

Or at least if it was normal, health class never came close to covering it.

But it’s a one-time thing, he thinks. He’s not really doing anything else, so maybe it only happens when he’s really mad? That’s probably it. That has to be it.

Except the ramen that he likes at the grocery store is on the top shelf, and Rhodey wandered off to get actual food, and so he can’t reach it because he’s not a freak who is like 6′4″.

It floats.

It fucking floats.

The sweet-chili-ramen floats into his cart and Rhodey sees it, and he stares.

"Either I took an edible and it finally kicked in, or you just did something that definitely isn’t supposed to happen.”

“Maybe the latter,” Tony says faintly.

“Oh,” Rhodey says. “Do you think we have time to get that queso you wanted, or do we have to pay for the groceries and go to the car to process?”

“Queso over my mental state,” Tony responds automatically. “Let’s go.”

They eat in silence when they get to their apartment, and they don’t say anything for about ten minutes.

“So. Do you think you can fly on a broomstick?”

“What? No!” Tony exclaimed, but pausing. “Well, I’ve never tried before, so...”

“Then we have to try. For science reasons,” Rhodey says. “Where the fuck do we get a broomstick?”

So...

As it turns out, you can’t really get a traditional broomstick, so they went to the store and bought a mop.

“They have a mop, but not a broomstick?”

“To be fair, it is April.”

“Why does that matter?”

“Well,” Rhodey starts to explain, “April showers bring May flowers, but also wet boots into the hallway. Also, it’s not your holiday yet.”

“Well yeah, it’s not May yet.”

“I didn’t mean your birthday, dipshit. I meant your holiday.”

“What the fuck is my holiday?” Tony demands. “No one has a ‘celebrate Tony Stark’ day in their calendars, as far as I or my ego knows, so-”

He stops.

“Oh, you little shit.”

“I’m not little,” Rhodey brags. “I’m taller than you.”

“For now.”

“For permanence!”

“I’ll make you pay for this broomstick with the last ten dollars in your checking account.”

“Then I’ll tell Jarvis!”

“Damn your need to know my family,” Tony curses. “Fine.”

Tony can’t fucking fly on a fucking mop.

One broken arm later and a phone call to his mother later, Maria Carbonell is sitting on her son’s dormitory mattress and wondering just why the hell he lied to her about how he broke his arm.

Here was her son’s lie:

“Um. I broke my arm because dinner sucked.”

A.) There was no follow up.

B.) Her son is bad at lying as she is.

Unfortunately, she did not announce her arrival, and so she gets Tony’s roommate opening the door and screaming that the liquor is in the second cabinet from the left.

Maria raises one eyebrow.

“Did Tony at least pick out good wine?”

“Uh...you’re Tony’s mom?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t think you were coming to visit until move-out.”

“I...we had an interesting conversation. You wouldn’t happen to know why Tony actually broke his arm, would you?”

“Um...no.”

(Rhodey is also a bad liar.)

Tony gets home about ten minutes later and promptly says:

“Oh fuck.”

“Is that any way to greet your mother?” Mom asks, already sipping delicately on her glass of water.

“Um...move-out isn’t for another month.”

“I know. But you lied to your dear mother.”

“How did you know?”

“You can never hide anything from your mom, and your excuse needed work, honey,” Maria answers. “So. How did you break your arm?”

Tony sighs.

“Promise me you won’t laugh. And don’t tell Jarvis.”

“What did you....what?”

The mop.

Maria doesn’t laugh at first, at least until she sees the pictures that Rhodey took and chuckles.

“You promised me you wouldn’t laugh!”

“What were you doing? And why?” she asks, laughing. Tony rubs the back of his neck nervously.

“Um, well...funny story...”

Maria should have known that her son would have her...abilities. But she had hoped that if he had never known the family, had never known what she could do, that maybe...maybe they wouldn’t come.

“So what you’re telling me,” Tony says, nostrils flaring, “is that there’s magic?”

“Yes,” Maria says. “And what we deal with specifically is good magic.”

“Oh, so I could’ve put Glinda the Good Witch on my family tree project,” Tony says sarcastically.

Maria scowls.

“Don’t sass me, Tony. I did it for your own good.”

“I set a car on fire!”

“Well, what kind of car was it?!”

“A Mustang!”

“Then that makes sense!” Maria says. “Your father drove one, and we all know how that turned out!”

Tony blinks for a moment.

And then laughs.

Maria starts laughing too, until they’re both giggling in the apartment, and Tony tells her about the grocery store incident.

Mom tells him, essentially, that they have a job: defend from the darkness. She doesn’t say if the darkness is someone or a group or a concept. She just says that she’ll send him some of the spell-books (fucking spell-books!) over and talk about how emotions and different hand motions can affect how spells go.

“So, why never the family? I mean, you could’ve told me about them and then just not mentioned the magic portion,” Tony asks when he’s moved back into their house, and has grilled Mom on just about every single page in the book.

“Because as much as your father is a terrible person, you’re still like him in some aspects,” Maria says. “And you are stubborn and don’t let information go. You want to know how everything works, and that includes family. You would’ve been wreaking havoc since you were eight.”

“I was already wreaking havoc when I was eight,” Tony whines. “But, this also raises the question of when are we doing a family reunion?”

She stops, looking at him.

“They weren’t exactly pleased when I married a millionaire.”

“Not even when he became a billionaire and you got half his fortune?” Tony teases.

“Not even then,” she answers. “I have a...complicated relationship with magic.”

“As in, you don’t use it.”

“Correct,” she answers. “You don’t need magic in your life, and quite often, it gets you in more trouble than you anticipate.”

“Are you going to give me a ‘magic has consequences’ speech?”

Maria laughs.

“No. Magic, as far as I know, doesn’t really have consequences. The actions you do have consequences. You could blast up an entire country and as long as you don’t get caught, no consequences other than what you do to yourself.”

“Like having guilt?”

“Like having guilt. But enough about that, it’ll make you feel weird for a week if you keep thinking about it. I want you to light candles from two feet away.”

“Of course I can do that,” Tony scoffs.

“Sure you can.”

Tony also sets the curtains on fire!

Maria realizes that her son is perhaps just a tad (okay, a lot) more powerful than she was (and is).

So, she regrettably calls her mother.

Nonna Carbonell is a very imposing figure. A woman who is four-foot-eight and about seven-feet-tall in terms of personality, and dresses only in questionable 1970s-print dresses.

“Ah, so you finally come back home, Maria. And you brought your boy! Who I only see twice in the magazines!”

“You know exactly why I didn’t come back, Mama,” Maria says, rolling her eyes. “But enough about that. You need to teach Tony.”

“Antonio,” Mama says, grinning at him and pinching his cheeks. “Ah, so good to see you have the Carbonell nose, your father was ugly as a mule.”

Tony pointedly does not say that everyone else seems to think that he is the spitting image of his father, but...

His mom and Nonna do not get along, if family dinner is anything to go by. Tony’s lucky that his mom got him at least some Italian lessons so he’s not completely lost with all of his aunts, uncles, and cousins.

He sees pots and pans coming off the shelves themselves. Ladles and knifes dance out of the drawers.

His baby cousin-Geraldine, who is only two-is waving her fingers lackadaisically, and in what seems to be no effort, her bottle of juice is off of the counter.

Great. A two year old is better at magic than he is.

Nonna is a great teacher, who also happens to terrify Tony with how much she can do.

“You’re important,” she grins. “You have more power than your mother, thank God.”

“Why thank god?” Tony asks.

“You always thank God, Tonio,” Nonna says, waving the curtains shut. “Now, let’s see you get the flour off the shelf.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get, like, a salt shaker?”

“If you spill the salt shaker we get the devil!” Nonna declares. “Flour is better.”

It is not better. It turns Nonna into a ghost, and Tony has to spend ages dusting it off his black jeans.

“Maybe pepper shaker next time,” she says weakly.

Tony does call Rhodey. He was supposed to go on a road trip to see him, and now he’s in Italy learning how to fling flour sacks across the kitchen at his idiot Uncle Theo.

“How goes your magic training you fucking nerd?”

“Literally I call you, and that’s how you greet me?”

“I told my DnD group that you moved to Italy to play on a campaign for a worldwide championship.”

“You are quite literally the worst friend ever.”

“False, because when I moved out I found your favorite Black Sabbath shirt and am saving it for when you move back. Please tell me you’re moving back so I can plan friendships accordingly.”

“I’ll be back. Who knows, I might be able to help with some lifting.”

“I still don’t trust your noodle arms, no matter how much ‘magic’ you have now.”

“Hey! They’re not noodles!”

“Says you, noodle-arm boy.”

“I’m going to curse you into a toad.”

“There’s no way you can do that,” Rhodey says, laughing. “I guarantee you that you wouldn’t be able to turn me back.”

“And then we’d have so much more space in the apartment, darling.”

“But then I wouldn’t have to pay rent! Huzzah! And I wouldn’t have to do my stupid business classes!”

Tony laughs.

“I’ve missed talking to you, Rhodey. I can’t wait until I get to come home again.”

“Me too,” he responds. Tony can practically feel his smile through the phone.

There’s yelling that Rhodey can hear, something about “come back here you American bastard and learn how to knit with magic!” and a hurried “goodbye, love you” from Tony.

Tony does get good at magic. He gets very good.

It’s terrifying to Maria, really.

Darkness has always existed, and it will always exist. Their family exists as a way to keep it balanced, and Tony...

He plays with magic as if he’s always known it, now. He can do things that not even the older family can do. He has meshed magic with mechanics, and he’s started on ideas that Maria was quite sure no one had thought of.

And then, of course, family does what family does best:

They tell you things you should’ve known about three months earlier.

With most families, the thing that they don’t tell you is something like “oh, Aunt Margaret made a terrible choice in husbands again.” Or perhaps “did you see his tattoo? Who in their right mind gets a Sonic the Hedgehog tattoo on their chest?”

With this family, it is the fact that darkness is coming within the next four years, and Tony is probably their only chance.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Maria hisses at her sister.

“Because you moved to America!” Gia hisses right back. “We can’t afford to collect call every single time we had trouble.”

“You couldn’t tell me that the darkness is approaching way sooner than we expected?! Because what, you didn’t want to pay for a phone call!”

“To be fair, Nonna made that decision,” Enzo says. “She thought we could handle it. And we can! We can!”

“Oh sure, that’s why Nonna told me that my son is your only chance,” Maria says, dry tone to her voice. “God, I need wine...”

“Everyone needs wine, it’s practically a requirement,” Gia says. “Don’t worry. Things will work themselves out.”

“But will it work out for us?” Maria asks. “I don’t want to be the modern model for the next pietà someone wants to make...”

Tony, unfortunately, is his mother’s son and has listened in on every single conversation that’s ever been had in their house. Here are three things that he has learned:

1.) Apparently, his mother used to bake the best bread, and they forgot to write and ask her for the recipe, and they also didn’t call her.

2.) He’s the last hope for everyone of existing with good things, and no one’s sure how to beat the darkness and he has no clue how to.

3.) Apparently his grandfather (named Basil, of all names) could out-drink anyone and had publicly threatened at least six government officials just because he wanted to see if he could.

You will notice that one of these facts is most likely important than the others.

Who the hell names their kid Basil?

(Just kidding.)

Tony gets back to the US, promises his mom that he won’t tell anyone, and then immediately tells Rhodey when mom goes to the grocery store.

“Wait, so...they’re trusting you?”

“I know! What a terrible idea!”

“God, I know. You can’t even clean a microwave.”

“That was one time!”

Rhodey laughs, tackling Tony in a hug.

“I know, I know. Welcome back, Tones.”

He feels safe. Protected.

He has to learn how to fucking throw knives. Mom has decided that she is going to call in a favor from Howard, and it involves dragging Tony to a most-likely-illegal-pseudo-government-set-up and training under a guy who goes by Hawkeye and a lady who goes by “Black Widow” and expects Tony to be fine with it.

Rhodey also attends, because Tony appreciates misery with company.

Plus, they can complain together as they’re getting their asses kicked.

“Do you ever think about taking a vacation?” Rhodey asks, panting as Natasha once again slams him down on the mat. “I’m sure that Florida or the Philippines would appreciate you. Tourism or the economy, or something like that.”

“You’re not getting out of your fighting lessons by bribing me with a nice vacation,” Natasha says simply. “Tony, adjust your left arm. You’ll break it when Clint comes into contact.”

“Maybe I want to break my arm!” Tony declares.

“Do you want to have to wrap your cast in plastic every single time you shower?” Clint asks. “Because that’s what’ll happen.”

“Why don’t you just spray the cast with some sort of waterproofing spray?”

“Would that even work?” Clint asks. “Because you might have just blown my mind.”

“It might work, I don’t know,” Tony says, panting.

It is eight months when Tony first brushes with darkness.

It’s the morning, which is...odd. He wouldn’t think that darkness would show up in the morning, but here he is on his morning walk trying desperately hard to fight it off and also not grab attention.

He manages to slam it down on the road and have a car run it over, and for the most part, the darkness retreats. He sends it off with a curse, and he runs all the way back to the apartment.

Rhodey frowns.

“We probably need other people, right?”

“A regular family reunion and then some.”

So as it turns out, they’re not getting a family reunion. At least, not any time soon.

Apparently, Nonna is demanding that they have to be there from October 31st through December 7th, according to Holy Days of Obligation and Holidays (specifically, Christian holidays.)

“Nonna, isn’t witchcraft considered illegal or something?” Tony asks. “Like, I thought the church didn’t like that.”

“Too bad, too late. We stay. Talk to your mama, Tonio. She will have answers.”

Maria has absolutely no answers!

“I didn’t seek out witches who live here, baby,” she says, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Why don’t you email people? Ask around?”

“You can’t just ask people if they’re a witch!” Tony cries.

“Why not?”

“Because you get people who think you’re insane, or they’re insane!”

“So?”

“...good point.”

Pepper Potts is not sure why she answers the post. It is probably something else not related to what she does. Maybe she’ll be meeting with weirdos. But when you get an ad that’s about “stopping darkness from engulfing the world in two-to-four-years: you wanna help?” you listen to that.

So she answers, and she walks in her business-casual outfit, and she meets two guys who are sitting at a shitty folding table at the park.

One of them is wearing cargo pants.

“Are you here about the darkness?” one of the boys says, blinking up at her behind gigantic glasses.

“Um. Yes?”

“Good. My name is Tony, this is Rhodey in the terrible pants. And you are?”

“Um. Pepper?”

“Oh, cool name.”

“Thanks, picked it out myself.”

Rhodey laughs.

“Good. Now, what kind of magic stuff can you do?”

“I’d hardly call it stuff.”

“Tony uses his to make us ramen while we marathon a crime show, I’m calling it stuff,” Rhodey defends.

Pepper watches around her, and satisfied with the lack of people around, lifts Rhodey out of his chair and floats him about thirty feet over.

When he jogs back over, he’s grinning.

“Very cool. What else?”

Pepper is well-versed in technique, spells, and a few tricks that Tony doesn’t know about involving manipulation of light.

“How can you do that?”

“Practice,” Pepper says. “And a late-night conspiracy theory documentary.”

“Cool,” Tony and Rhodey say at the same time.

Pepper actually doesn’t live that far away, and she goes to the same college. They see a lot more of her and become friends.

She helps them update the spell-book, get it organized online, and focus on finding out where the darkness is going to appear next.

Tony is trying very hard not to break down from stress. He’s barely twenty, ate ramen for lunch and dinner yesterday, and is not very sure that he can do this.

People keep telling him that he’s the only hope they have, and he doesn’t want to be that.

He just wants to have a regular summer and make fun of Rhodey’s questionable fashion choices.

He doesn’t even know how to defeat this. At all. And he just wants to graduate college, and get a job somewhere and annoy his mom into teaching him how to make homemade pasta.

Not...not this.

But you don’t get to choose what you have to do for others. You have to do what they need.

Rhodey, at least, understands this.

That is why he is outside of Tony’s door with a half-cold burrito of questionable origins, a smile, and no knowledge of personal boundary space.

(Not that Tony minds.)

“Hey,” he says. “So, you have to save the world and I still remember the fact that you forget to get your shit out of the microwave.”

Tony laughs at that, taking the proffered burrito and biting into it.

“You still have shitty taste in burritos. Where is this even from?”

“A badly-painted truck two blocks from here. I think I was their first customer of the day.”

“No shit,” Tony says, taking another bite of the burrito. “You want to watch a movie or play a video game?”

“Movie. Something light.”

This is how they get to watch a movie that honestly doesn’t mean anything to either of them, but it is mindless and it allows Rhodey to sneak his hand over Tony’s, and it allows Tony some sort of happiness that at least Rhodey is still by his side.

“Hey Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“You think if I managed to find an actual broomstick, you could fly it?”

“Oh, fuck you!” Tony laughs, tossing a pillow over Rhodey’s face.

“I’m serious. You managed to charm the coffeepot into being sentient, so...”

“That was a mistake, and now we’re stuck with Maggie, don’t bother her.”

But it does have him thinking.

If he can charm a coffeepot, what else could he charm?

A suit of armor.

That’s what he charms. He was originally shooting for a broomstick, but then Pepper surprised him and now he has a charmed suit of armor that stands in the hallway of his mom’s old house. (Their base of operations.)

It gives him an idea.

Why not combine the old with the new?

After all, it’s not like darkness hasn’t adapted to hundreds of years of battles. Why not throw a curveball?

“I don’t like using my major,” Rhodey whines as Tony makes him lift one of the arms for his own suit.

“Too bad,” Tony teases. “I’ll get you pizza after.”

“Promise?”

“Mostly.”

“Good enough for me.”

Pepper thinks they’re both idiots, at least until she gets her own suit and is positively thrilled when she looks like she’s a superhero from a television show.

“Yeah, yeah, we look cool.” Tony says. “Now, who’s ready to learn how to conduct magic and electricity at the same time?”

It works out better than anticipated, all things considered.

“You ruined the couch, Anthony Edward Stark-Carbonell!” Mom fumes. “The couch! Where I sit!”

“To be fair, it’s a really ugly couch,” Tony says weakly. “And it’s, um, for the betterment of...magical society?”

“Don’t you dare quote your Aunt Gia at me!” Mom goes on muttering in Italian, and it sounds suspiciously like “why did I have to have a son who blows up couches” to Tony.

The darkness comes in full-force on a Saturday night, which is really inconvenient for a lot of reasons:

1.) A Saturday? Really? It couldn’t come on, like, a Thursday?

2.) They’ve been celebrating Rhodey’s birthday and perhaps Tony has enjoyed two or three drinks and gotten a pleasant buzz out of it, all things considered.

3.) It’s midnight. Why midnight? That’s late, Pepper wanted to get to bed.

4.) Mom is going to kill them, because technically they weren’t supposed to be out on the town.

So here they are, panicking and throwing shitty restaurant chairs around in order to main some sort of ahead-of-the-game mentality.

“Do you think if we called your mom, she would help?”

“She would probably kill me first!” Tony wails.

“Before darkness can?”

“Probably!”

Maria won’t kill her son yet.

Yet.

But god she’s going to come close.

“You could’ve just asked me to buy you wine!” she says. “You could’ve had a movie in!”

“Well sorry, I didn’t think that the darkness was going to come on Rhodey’s birthday!”

“Oh when would you have thought it would come? Next Thursday? Or something more convenient for your year?”

“I mean, when I have to visit Howard over the summer, that would be beneficial.”

“I’ll make up a different excuse,” Mom hisses, deflecting a tendril of darkness from the window and wincing as it smashes a painting down from the wall.

The fight is a hard one. All good fights are. (Although the best fights are ones that are over in five minutes, give or take.)

It’s been hours, Tony is tired, and honestly he really is debating calling a break and going to get a shitty fast-food burger.

Rhodey says “no” even though his stomach is growling.

Pepper has been having fun finding new ways to animate cars, but she’s getting tired.

And then it gets all of his family that he’s made.

He can see Rhodey writhing in it, can see his mom fight it off, and watches Pepper scream.

Tony is not sure if he can do it.

But he has to. He has to beat this fucking terrible thing back because if he doesn’t, everyone else dies. And they don’t get families, they don’t know what will happen.

(And he also really wants to plan a vacation with Rhodey and Pepper next year.)

So he takes himself and all of what he knows, and launches himself directly into it.

By all accounts, he wasn’t supposed to do that. But he hasn’t been able to cut it down into a more manageable size, so he figures that maybe it’s time to try something that has never been advisable by anyone on either hemisphere of the world, or anyone who has ever been rational.

Going into darkness is a very difficult thing, because for one, you can’t see shit.

For a second thing, he can hear everything.

Darkness is not just absence of light. It can be absence of every single damned good thing on the earth, in your head, or anywhere around you. Some people have described it as hell.

Tony is alone, and he is not sure what to do.

There’s a table, and there is someone sitting there.

“So.”

The woman is stirring an olive around her martini, and she looks impeccably dressed. A fitted skirt and suit, manicured black nails, and eyeliner that looks impossibly intricate.

“You are...?”

“The person you’re supposed to destroy.”

“But you’re not exactly a person, are you?”

“Smart guy. No, I’m just the personification of what you’re fighting. You intrigue me, Tony Stark.”

“Just Tony.”

“Fine then. Tony.”

“Why do I intrigue you?”

“Most heroes are alone,” darkness says. (Does he capitalize her name? He’s not sure. “They go alone, they don’t involve people in their struggle. You have involved your family, put them in danger.”

“They would’ve been in greater danger if I had gone by myself,” Tony says. “People have a nasty habit of sticking together, you know.”

“Do they now?”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “And now, I have to make sure we stick together anyways.”

“And what do you mean by-”

He’s already lunging at her.

She wasn’t expecting him to lunge, he guessed.

She goes down, and yells.

Tony scrabbles to fight again as she sends out a blast his way, and he ducks.

“You can’t hide from me!” she yells.

“I’m not trying to!” he yells back. “I’m just trying to kill you!”

The fight goes on, and she plays dirty. Her nails tear into his armor, and he tears his fingers through her hair.

“You can’t beat me,” she howls, triumphant as she manages to pin one of his legs down, and trying to claw at his face. “Darkness always exists! You would be nothing without me!”

Tony pauses for a second.

“So what you’re saying is...as long as you exist, so does everything else?”

“Yes!”

Tony grins.

“Aw, you shouldn’t have told me that honey.”

With darkness being the beginning, everything else comes forth. Tony summons his cousins, his family, Rhodey, Pepper.

And eventually, her physical form gets smaller and smaller.

Darkness is not something that can be eradicated from your life. But you can beat the shit out of it with help. Tony learned that.

He also learned that Rhodey has a phenomenal flying kick.

They spend the following day laying on the couch or adjacent chairs and staring at the decorations that they need to replace.

They also learn that Nonna has learned how to call, and is not quite sure if she can be heard or not.

“TONIO? TONIO! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

“Nonna, quiet,” Tony groans. “I literally just saved the world yesterday, please don’t yell.”

“I HAVE FOOD FOR YOU. COME TO ITALY. NEXT WEEK?”

Tony groans.

“Sure, Nonna. I will come.”

“BRING FRIENDS. HAVE GIFTS FROM POPE FOR YOU.”

“You...when did you have time to get gifts...the pope?”

“HAVE FRIENDS. COME!”

Tony looks at Mom, Rhodey, and Pepper.

“So. When should we leave for next week?”

#HI THIS IS VERY VERY LONG #VERY VERY LONG #pepper potts #tony stark #rhodey #tony's family from italy !!! is somehow witch and catholic simply because i wanted to make it funny #maria carbonell #lovelyirony writes #tony stark is a fucking badass #yes he is a witch yes he is a badass #darkness can also be representative of uhhh anxiety or how bad things will alwyas be there #but it has to be to point out the good #just my take on that #also yeah rhodey and tony???? together but not mentioned #pepper saying she chose her name was something i meant to delve into but i didn't so #magic au

82 notes · View notes

stxphxn-strange · 4 years ago

Text

might i have this dance?

a/n: more of stephen and tony in Italy (following college au canon ofc) and direct sequel to “we meet again” there’s going to be a little bit of angst but this fic is mostly just soft cotton candy fluff

Natasha “promised” to get up at 10:00, but made a fashionably late appearance in the living room at 10:15. Truthfully, extra 15 minutes here and there didn’t matter much. Some cousins were still asleep anyway, and in fact it was more accurate to say that most of the family was having a bit of a lie-in. Stephen, in a break from his usual habits, was a straggler and didn’t consciously wake up when he did. He rather followed the smell of tea towards the kitchen, only getting as far as the living room where he flopped down next to Anthony.

The tea could wait, Stephen was still a bit sleepy and wanted to snuggle.

“Buongiorno, mia vita,” Anthony murmured, pulling Stephen into a hug.

“Did you come back to bed after talking with Natasha?” Stephen asked, well aware that one of Anthony’s younger cousins was staring at him for some reason.

“No, I went back to our bedroom but I wasn’t tired, so I drank some coffee and talked to Rhodey for a little bit,” Anthony replied. “You sleep like a log when you put your mind to it.”

“I sleep like a log when you wake me up unexpectedly,” Stephen quipped, smiling at Anthony’s words. Something about the way he referred to his bedroom as theirs made Stephen feel warm and loved and happy.

Anthony glanced down at him, pressing a soft kiss to his sleep-ruffled hair. “What’s on your mind?”

“You. What else?” Stephen replied, snuggling closer to Anthony. He heard a relative talking about them in the background, but paid little attention.

“Grazie, Zia,” Anthony responded to his aunt before turning back to Stephen. “Thinking about me?”

“By now you must know that I’m almost always thinking about you, Anthony,” Stephen said. “You live in my head rent free.”

Anthony blushed and kissed Stephen again. “You’re such a romantic asshole.”

Stephen just hummed in agreement and relaxed against him, enjoying the calm morning energy of Anthony’s family. People filtered in and out of the living room, making idle chitchat and eating some light snacks. Someone had made brunch reservations for later, so everyone was waiting to leave for the restaurant.

“Is Stephen awake?” Giulia called from the kitchen.

“Yes!” Stephen and Anthony giggled as they responded simultaneously.

“Would you like some tea, dear?” Giulia asked.

“Yes please,” Stephen replied.

“Anthony? How about you, bambino?” Giulia asked.

“Per favore, Nonna, grazie,” Anthony replied, the timbre of his voice warming Stephen’s heart.

He knew he was staring, but Stephen found that he couldn’t bear to take his sleepy gaze away from Anthony. He was entranced, feeling content and loved as Anthony wrapped his arms around Stephen and hugged him closer. He’d almost fallen asleep again when Giulia walked into the living room.

“Well aren’t you two sweet,” she murmured, handing them each a mug of tea. “Anthony, dov’e tua sorella? Sta ancora dormendo?”

“Credo di si, le ho parlato circa un’ora fa e ha detto che voleva tornare a dormire,” Anthony replied, taking a sip of his tea. He smiled as Stephen shifted a bit closer to him, even as they couldn’t get much closer.

“Nonna?” Anthony’s cousin, the one who was still staring at Stephen and whose name escaped him, asked quietly. “Chi e quello vicino a Tony?”

Giulia smiled as Anthony laughed quietly. “Non ti ricordi? Non mi sorprende che tu non fossi piu di un bambino quando hai conosciuto Stephen per la prima volta. E il ragazzo di Anthony e il migliore amico di sempre.”

Anthony’s cousin stared at the couple for a few moments. “They look like they’re married.”

“Not yet, cugino,” Anthony replied, continuing to laugh at the conversation.

“You’re making the entire family wait, nipote mio,” Giulia teased, joining her family in the living room to wait for Natasha.

++++

“There’s no particular reason for this, but I’d really love if everyone knew how to just do a basic waltz,” Natasha explained, speaking over the noise of her family enjoying brunch. Turning to Stephen, she added, “Did you know my brother took ballet lessons with me in the summers, when we were children?”

“Did you really just ask me that as if I don’t know my boyfriend? As if I don’t know my best friend of 18 years, Natasha?” Stephen asked lightly. “Of course I did.”

“He was good,” Natasha replied. “Surprisingly.”

“Hey! I’m good at lots of things,” Anthony protested. “When do we get to meet Darcy?”

“I’m picking her up from the airport at 5am, so probably tomorrow,” Natasha said. “We’re going to be here for another day or two and then we’re leaving for Paris.”

"The City of Love,” Stephen said dramatically.

“Is it weird that you saying that reminds me of a song from that Phineas and Ferb episode?” Anthony asked.

Natasha looked at them as they both dissolved into laughter. Pointing at Stephen she added, “Why do you encourage his cursed behavior? Stop doing that. Stop.”

++++

Music was already blaring in the dance studio when the family tumbled in, Natasha’s eyes lighting up at the energy in the space. A few dance instructors were milling around the room, standing in an unusual formation almost akin to a shield.

Anthony found that odd but didn’t fixate on it, already beginning to tap his foot to some upbeat ballroom music.

Natasha scanned the room, assessing the space to make sure there would be enough room for her accident prone family to bumble around each other. Smiling at one of the instructors, she declared, “We’re all here, if you’re ready for us.”

A tall woman at the front of the formation clapped her hands and smiled. “Great! Do any of you have any ballroom or other dance experience before?”

“My brother and I took ballet lessons as children,” Natasha replied.

“Did you?” A new voice from the back of the group asked. A brunette with a dazzling smile stepped out from behind some other instructors. “How are we getting married next week and I didn’t know that?”

Natasha sputtered, looking back and forth between Yelena, her family, and the other dance instructors before launching herself into her fiancee’s arms as people applauded.

“Is now a good time to bring up my ballroom dancing experience?” Anthony asked, trying to keep his voice low.

Natasha glared at him from over Darcy’s shoulder. “Why do you always have to step on my moment?!”

Tags: @stark-strange-love2 @ah3m @thespacecryptid @chocopiggy @kiwidino @ironstrange-chaos @majesticnerdynerd @spooky-n-spunky @doctorstephenvincentstarkstrange @maya-custodios-dionach

#i know this fic ends abruptly i just wanted to start the next one #tony stark #Stephen Strange #ironstrange #my ironstrange college au #james rhodey rhodes #natasha romanoff #natasha and tony are half siblings #maria stark (mentioned)#giulia carbonell (oc)#in this house we love the carbonell family #italian tony stark #this one isn't as good #the next fic in this series is going to be incredible though #i cut so much out of this lmaoooo

44 notes · View notes

rhetoricalrogue · 4 years ago

Text

31 Days of Wayhaven, Day 13

Prompt: Apology Rating: PG for Nicky and Tony’s foul mouths. Like grandfather, like grandson. Words: 1,482 Characters: Nicolo Morelli, Anthony Morelli Summary: Meeting his grandson did not go quite as Nicky planned.

For the @31daysofwayhaven event.

It had taken Nicky some time to gather enough courage to ask Farah to get back in contact with Detective Miller so she wouldn’t be surprised when he dropped by the police station, literal hat in hand, to explain his circumstances. The detective - Aubrey, please just call me Aubrey - was surprisingly easygoing when it came to speaking with him. She’d met him at a little bakery cafe for coffee and an exceptionally good apple crostata during a lull in the business day. He’d been a little surprised that she had come alone, the way that the rumor mill around the Facility ran, he would have thought any one of the members of Unit Bravo would have accompanied her. He’d almost hoped that they would have, seeing that it would add a little bit more weight to his story.

Aubrey had been quiet as he explained his past and how a chance meeting with Farah had clued him into the fact that he may have possibly fathered a child and the woman who had cursed him was an immortal witch. She’d listened, quietly eating her dessert while sipping on coffee, before nodding.

“I’m doing this because I love Tony,” she said slowly. “He’s the brother that I never had and my dearest of friends. I also know his mom and I’ve been in contact with his grandmother.” She thumbed through her phone before sliding it over to show a picture she had taken with an older woman and Nicky’s breath caught in his throat. There was a faint shimmer around her that to the human eye would have been mistaken for reflection of light hitting her just so, though someone trained in spotting supernatural talents, such as he was, could tell that she was using a glamour to make herself look older. Yet magic or no, there was no mistaking Isabela. Over three hundred years apart and he could still have easily picked her out of a crowd if someone told him she was ten feet away from him.

“Thank you.”

She nodded before taking her phone back and chewing on her lip as she composed a lengthy text to her best friend before giving up and just dialing him directly. “But if you even think about hurting him or his family, I swear I’ll kill you, curse or no curse.”

In the end, Aubrey wound up telling Tony that she had met a distant relative of his and wanted to see if he would be interested in meeting him. Nicky guessed it had been a good idea, seeing that according to Farah, Aubrey still didn’t know that her dearest friend in the world was half-fey himself and it would be easier to explain face to face since both men were well aware of the supernatural.

The meeting between himself and Tony had gone...differently than he expected. He hadn’t been expecting much either, but for a man a little older than his age - and how hilarious was it that he was younger than his own grandson! - to walk up to him and say “So, you’re the one who knocked up my nonna and then hightailed it out of town. What the fuck, man?” was definitely not on the list.

“Hey!”

“What? You don’t get to be indignant, stronzo. You’re supposed to be dead.”

Nick glared at the finger Tony was pressing against his chest. “I fucking am, you little punk. Your grandmother -”

Tony let out a snarl that would have done Penny proud. “My grandmother spent centuries mourning your loss, you prick!”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why would she do that? She flat out cursed me to never die.”

“Nonna Isabela would never do such a thing!”

“May you never know the peace of the grave doesn’t quite sound like she was giving me a damn blessing!”

“She doesn’t deal in -” He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. “Fuck. You want to know where she is, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“And even if I refuse to tell you, you have Agency resources to help you find her?”

He stood up straighter. “I do.” Okay, so that was a lie, there were rules in place to not misuse Agency property for personal gain, but what his grandson didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Tony stubbornly lifted his chin and oh. It was like looking in a mirror. “And what about my mother, huh? You going to ask about her, or were you just going to walk away again like you did nearly four hundred years ago? She grew up without a father, you know. Her mother never married, just told everyone who asked that her husband had died and she’d never love another.”

“I didn’t know about -”

The anger was back, and there was something not quite human that flashed in Tony’s eyes. “Doesn’t matter, you would have still left. You look the type that fucks and runs.” He threw his hands up and turned away, but then pivoted and pointed his finger at Nicky again. “She loves you, you know. When I was a kid, I would ask her about you, but then I stopped because she always got so sad. She goes to Sicily every year to tend to graveyards because she’s hoping that maybe, maybe one year she’ll find your plot and she could get some closure.” He narrowed his eyes. “She called you her true love, someone she would have gladly bound herself to for all eternity. She even took your last name and gave it to my mother.”

Nicky ran his hands through his hair. “We only knew the other for a week!”

“Soulmates, jackass! They exist, you know!”

It was Nicky’s turn to jab a finger into Tony’s chest. “And for your information, I wouldn’t have left, had I known about your mother.” He jabbed again. “You don’t know a damned thing about me.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“I was excommunicated, for Christ’s sake! My own sister thought I was a demon and disowned me when I showed up at her doorstep, still bloody from where some asshole had knifed me and left me to rot in a ditch! I spent years looking for Isabela and nothing!” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you tell me that she was the only one living through pain. Do you have any idea what it’s like to know that you’re dead, but never getting the chance to die? I have tried poisons, explosives, knives, guns, everything and all that happens is that for the briefest window of time, I black out and experience the smallest amount of peace before I’m back, my body whole as if nothing had ever happened to it.”

Tony looked at him and while the anger was still there, it was as if someone had taken a boiling over pot off the stove to let it sit for a moment. “So, what do you want? For her to break her curse and let you rest?”

“Had you asked me that a decade or so ago, I would have answered yes. I wanted to die for good for a very long time.”

“What changed?”

“Finding something to live for.” He sighed. “Look, tell me where Isabela is or keep it to yourself, I don’t care. Just...tell her and your mother that I’m sorry. For everything.” Nicky gave a faint smile. “Gianna was my grandmother’s name. She raised me and my sister when our parents died; she would have been happy to know that her name outlived her.” With that, Nicky turned and walked away, belatedly realizing that two men shouting at the other in rapid Italian in a public area had gathered a bit of attention.

“She’s not here,” Tony called out. “My mother.”

Nicky turned around. “And if she were?” He tried to keep the hope in his voice carefully hidden, but he knew that Tony had heard it anyway.

“She’s…” Tony also seemed to be aware of the few eyes that had drifted their way. “At home, with my dad. She’ll be back in a week though, which may give her enough time to wrap her head around her father wanting to make contact.”

He swallowed and nodded. “Thank you.”

Tony snorted. “Don’t thank me yet, old man. I don’t know how she’s going to react, or even if she’ll want to see you.”

“Still, thank you.”

“What makes you think that my grandmother would want to speak with you after so long?”

Nicky tensed, but then decided to hide his nerves behind his usual charm. “Because, nipote, how could she not? Like you said, I am the love of her life.”

Tony groaned. “Okay, now I want to see how this plays out. There’s no way that Nonna Isabela actually fell for that line.”

“Only time will tell if she falls for it a second time.”

#31daysofwayhaven #my writing #nicolo morelli #Unit Charlie

9 notes · View notes

vinegar-doppio · 4 years ago

Text

A Witch is a Witch [Halloween Special]

☾ Cast out from her coven for deeds which she’s rather not speak of, a young witch comes across an unremarkable cottage in the woods. ☽

I hope everyone had and is having a good Halloween!

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

For the three mothers to see her now, she thought, would only draw their pity. Unwanted pity, at that. She was a witch disgraced, jostled away from the traditions and practices that she had grown close to over the years. It was but a single mistake, a step too far beyond the beaten path, that had sent her coven reeling, eager to express her from their ranks.

What was she if not a witch? A coven-less witch, perhaps, but that was a condemnation among her peers – and a blaring, blinking signal for those who chose to hunt her kind. As powerful as she was, more so than her fellows she would argue, a witch out on her own would always be balanced on a precarious ledge. One which she herself teetered upon now.

The dark shape cutting across her skin was an indication of that. With her free hand, the little witch pawed at it, fingertips grazing the lines and whorls that had been etched into her flesh. She’d taken great care to rid herself of the curse that had once festered there, thorns and petals and drawn blood, but even after vanishing the curse had left behind a stain. The mark, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a barbed vine, twisted around her upper forearm, spiraling upwards and disappearing beneath the short-capped sleeves of her shirt.

Pizzazz scowled. How distasteful the impromptu tattoo was, and how utterly unrelated to her talents. There was a way to remove it, sure, but she wanted a solution that didn’t involve cutting her arm off or gouging her skin from the bone. She was more focused on finding somewhere to bunker down for the next little while. If it wasn’t the hunters that were coming for her, it would be another witch.

As if summoned by the thought, a puff of hazy smoke appeared from over the treeline. Green eyes squinting, Pizzazz took another few steps forward before allowing her body to still. Albeit mortal and startlingly human-like, her senses pricked at the back of her mind, silently reminding her that she was far more capable than those who weren’t privy to the abilities she possessed. The smoke wasn’t magical in nature, or at least it didn’t smell like it: the warmth of a hearth, the sharp zing of brewing herbs. Was that oregano she was smelling? Probably.

Normal cottage smells. It posed little risk, then, if she sauntered up to the door and asked whomever was living there if she could stay a night or two. So that’s exactly what Pizzazz planned to do. Fingers curling into her palm, she rapped on the door.

The door, creaking on its hinges, opened and Pizzazz could only take a step back as an elderly woman answered her knock. With a kerchief tied around her head and her skirt hiked up below her ribs, the elder was the perfect image of a kindly grandmother. The woman’s mouth parted in a gentle yet nearly toothless smile.

There was a moment of silence between the two; the distant cry of a raven, the wind whispering through the pines. The witch and the woman stared at each other, one with apprehension and the other recognition.

“Éadaoin,” The name was strange and almost twisted when the old woman pronounced it, warped by her heavy accent. It was vaguely european, lilting and stumbling: Italian, maybe? “That is your name, yes?”

“No,” the words slipped out before Pizzazz could stop them. Unconsciously a hand raised to the front of her shirt, fiddling with the collar. She continued, letting the words spill before she could come to regret it. “… Yes, I suppose my mother gave me that name. That’s not what I go by, though. Not anymore. Call me Pizzazz.”

A thoughtful hum from the old woman, and then she was moving aside, motioning for the witch to enter. Although she hadn’t quite gotten the chance to ask yet, she entered regardless, brushing her feet against the step before setting foot in the cottage proper. Quietly the woman brushed past her, gnarled hands seeking nearby objects for balance. Pizzazz was tempted to help, she really was, but the woman was fast for her age and was well out of arm’s reach before she could ask.

Toeing off her muddied shoes at the threshold, careful not to track in any dirt, Pizzazz followed her into what seemed to be a kitchen. Trinkets of all shapes and sizes decorated the walls, and with some degree of amazement the witch realized that they were objects from all across the world. How had a little old woman such as the one before her have gotten these things? Family, perhaps?

Tearing herself away before she was tempted to admire the knickknacks a little too closely, she promptly seated herself at the kitchen table. The woman was over by the stove now, stirring a large pot. Propping herself up onto her elbows, Pizzazz cleared her throat.

“Thank you for your hospitality; I’ll surely pay you back in full. But I never got your name?”

The stirring of curly, grey hair is the only indication that the old woman gives to make the witch believe that she’s listening. “Il nome mio?” Another twist of her wrist, the wooden spoon clacking against the inside of the pot. Her face crinkles in a silent laugh. “No been asked that in long, long time. You call me Nonna.”

“Nonna?”

“Sì, Nonna. Va bene?”

Pizzazz didn’t understand a lick of Italian, but she got the message anyway. “So, Nonna, what’s for supper?” The question was innocent, more of a joke to steer the conversation away from who she was and why she’d shown up so suddenly on the doorstep. She was surprised when the older woman answered her in earnest.

Spoon now raised from the pot, Nonna took a sip of what appeared to be tomato sauce. “I make a little bit-a pasta tonight.” Seeming satisfied with how it tasted, she set the spoon back down and let it simmer. It was nwo she turned to face Pizzazz, arms clasped against her front. The look she wore was nothing less than kind, a reflection of someone who truly understood what she was going through. By the mothers did it make her squirm in her seat.

“You run. Why?” Pizzazz allowed the question to roll about through her thoughts, wondering if she should answer truthfully or concoct some sort of lie to throw the woman off. Choosing the former, she licked her lips in anxious anticipation, eyes darting towards one of the walls.

“Well,” she began, treading carefully. She doubted that Nonna and the witch hunters were in cahoots, but one must never rule out something as an impossibility. “There are men chasing me. Bad men. Someone sent them after me knowing just what I am--” Pizzazz stopped there, sucking in a quick breath.

Nonna merely raised a hand, the wrinkles along her forehead and the creases of her eyes softening a degree. “I know, figlia mia.” With a swish of her hand and the curl of her fingers, the elderly woman beckoned something from the corner of the room. Everything clicked into place when an object came soaring over Pizzazz’ head, spinning up to the ceiling and descending back down and towards Nonna.

A broom, floating miraculously in midair.

Oh, everything clicked now. The cottage in the middle of nowhere? A crone, bent with age but welcoming nonetheless? Even the spanning garden outside should have been a sign. Pizzazz had come into the home of a fellow witch, and it made sense that someone as old as this would know her name. To grow to this age where hundreds of years were starting to settle within the body, Nonna must have been a witch of true remark.

She likely still was. But the smile upon her face, the lack of a cruel sneer, was all she needed to know. Nonna wasn’t out to get her, of that must she was sure.

“Come,” Nonna was unfettered by Pizzazz’s astonishment, and leaving the pot to its own devices, she beckoned her fellow witch and began to hobble towards another room. “I show you story.”

She was on her feet faster than she could think, trailing after Nonna and into the living room. The hearth crackled at the corner of the room, embers spewing and harmlessly fizzling out into the air. Pizzazz watched as she bent down and picked up a book from one of the shelves, and squinted to read its cover as Nonna turned it towards her.

“The Legend of Old Befana?” she read aloud, head tilted in concentration. Bright green eyes flickered up towards where Nonna was grinning wider than ever. “Don’t tell me.” Her back straightened, mouth agape. “Nonna. Nonna-- don’t tell me you’re la befana?”

Nonna’s head lolled backwards and Pizzazz could have sworn that her resounding cackle was the most joyous sound she’d ever heard. Instead of giving her a straight answer, Nonna sank slowly down onto the living room couch, perching the book upon her lap. The younger witch moved to sit beside her, posture straight and reverence evident.

Thoughtful expression crossing her face, Nonna turned to Pizzazz, reaching out to place a hand upon her collarbone. “No worry, no worry. I know you a good girl.” Those black, wizened eyes connected with the harshest of greens. “I teach you. No more bad men come after you, but you listen, capiche?”

“I’ll listen.” Uncharacteristically silent, Pizzazz leaned forward and against la Befana’s touch. “Please,” her voice was hushed. “Teach me. I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

Removing her hand, Nonna instead thumbed at the cover and flipped the book open to the first page. And Pizzazz watched, enrapt all the while.

#my writing #writblr #Original Work #halloween #spooky #witch #occult #oc #forest #cottage #grandma #nonna

3 notes · View notes

quentinxdelancret · 4 years ago

Text

Discord Thread II Quentin and Jaycee

Discord thread featuring: Quentin & Jaycee @jayceelynd

Mentions:

When: July 28th

Description: Quentin goes over to watch a scary show with Jaycee. SMUT!

Jaycee.

Watching scary stuff alone was always a dumb idea! After warming up food and making his favorite popcorn she set it up her room before answering the door. It had been forever since she saw him and she was a bit nervous. “Hey Rockstar” she smirked at him, while shutting the door after he walked in. Jaycee’s heart rate already rapid at the sight of him, she smiled up at him, blushing a bit before hugging him. Her cheek pressed against his chest. “Glad you’re back.”

Quentin. Quentin never really was the type to let nerves get in the way. But he hasn’t seen her in forever so they were definitely there. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her back tightly as he breathed her in. Humming softly as he let her go. “Hey yourself Beauty Queen” he smiled. “It smells great in here”

Jaycee. Always calling her a Beauty Queen, when he’ll always be her rockstar. Soaking up the warmth of his hug, a soft hum released as she looked back up at him. “Well I’d hope so, or Nonna is turning in her grave.” She winked before giggling. “I put everything into the theater room already.” Responding in almost a whispered voice.

Quentin. “you’re just as good if not better than her, I promise” he smiled. Chewing his bottom lip as he pointed to the drinks on the counter. “Want me to grab those?” He asked. Waiting for the okay before grabbing them and taking them to the theater room.

Jaycee. ”I better be.” She said sarcastically with her southern draw. Nodding her head she smiled as nodded her head in answering him, leading him to the theater room and climbed into the huge couch that literally could be a bed. “You haven’t seen the room since I finished it, have you?” She asked him while pulling the trey towards them that had the pasta and other snacks on it so he could set the drinks down.

Quentin. “of course you are” he smiled. Once they were on the couch he made himself comfortable and placed the drinks onto the tray. “I haven’t actually. It looks really nice. This couch is amazing” he added with a smile. He kicked his shoes off and pushed his hair back out of his face before grabbing some popcorn. Popping it into his mouth before smiling at her again. “So good”

Jaycee. Getting comfortable she propped herself up on the pillows behind her, slightly raising her hips to fix her shorts. “It was too classy looking. This is more me, with the gravy vibrant colors. The candy bar was a bad idea though, I eat a handful of candy a day now.” She laughed, slowly forming a smirk. “I never disappoint when it comes to that popcorn.” She snorted, in a playful tone. “So these people are overkill but the evp scares me.” She shrugged with a soft smile.

Quentin. “hey there is nothing wrong with a handful of candy a day” he grinned. “But, maybe I’m bias cause I have a wicked sweet tooth” he chuckled. “This is definitely more you though. I agree” he nodded. He grabbed some more popcorn and hummed as he chewed. “Mmm no you don’t. You never disappoint with anything” he smiled. Nodding his head as she spoke about the show. “Alright...” he said rubbing his hands together. “Let’s see how bad this is” he teased

Jaycee. ”Yeah, and I have been trying to put more weight on. So why not, right?” She laughed softly as she grabbed some mor popcorn, smiling as she shook her head at him saying she never disappoints. “Never, huh?” Arching a brow, giggling. Pressing play, she stuck her tongue at him. “It was scary, while alone and in the dark!”

Quentin. “you look perfect, don’t even worry about it” he said honestly. His eyes looking over her entire physique as she raised her brow. “Nope, never” he grinned. Popping more popcorn into his mouth before laughing. “Yeah, I’m sure it was” he mocked with a light chuckle.

Jaycee. Oh she noticed where that boys eyes roamed her body, throwing a piece of pop corn at him while laughing. “Listen, I can kick anyone’s ass, but I can’t kick a ghosts ass.” Leaning forward she grabbed her drink. “I’m sure you won’t be fazed at all.”

Quentin. He laughed as she tossed popcorn at him and shook his head. “Well, idk about anyone’s but. Definitely not a ghosts” he laughed. He grabbed his own drink as well and took a sip before smiling at her again. “I’ll hold you if you get too scared”

Jaycee. Gasping dramatically as she playfully pushed on him after he finished his drink. “I’ll have you know..” she stood up on her knees, facing him. “I run a self defense class, and I bet I could find a way with anyone.” Her fist on her hips, with a salt smirk on her full lips. “Oh, you’ll keep me safe?” She batted her eyes at him before giggling. Laying down her long locks fanned out around her still chuckling here and there. It felt good to laugh again and be silly again.

Quentin. He laughed as she pushed him and he set his drink back down. Watching her with a grin before laughing again. “I love how you go from tough to cute in a bat of the eye” he mused. Lifting up and crawling over her as she laid down and looking down at her. “But yes, I’ll always keep you safe.”

Jaycee. ”It can be a gift and a curse..” she wrinkled her nose with a soft smile. Watching him crawl over her, looking up at him, licking her lips as she realized her breathing was a little heavy. “I know you will.” She placed her hand to his cheek. “I have something I want to talk to you about but don’t let the mood change, please..” she chewed on her lips nervously. “He’s finally in jail. I finally did it..” she said with a brightness to her eyes. “Now I just have to deal with my mom and Bria who is now pregnant from Trip. But everything feels.. so much freer knowing he’s locked up for the next thirty five fucking years..” Not once did her honey hazel eyes leave his, reading him with nervousness.

Quentin. “I’m sure” he nodded. He kept his eyes locked on hers as she spoke and he licked his lips slowly. She seemed lighter and he was so happy for her. He wished he had been there for her when it all went down. But being here now had to be enough. “I’m so happy for you, Jaycee. You deserve to be happy and free. No more pain” he said softly. “But let’s worry about the others later. Right now I think we should celebrate.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers kissing her slowly. Pulling away for a moment to read her eyes as of asking if it was okay.

Jaycee. Smiling up at him as he spoke his sweet words to her, choked her up a big. He never left her side, maybe physically but he was still there. Always a quick call away, making life easier. Now he was here, and that had to mean something, or it was just he was simply here. Kissing him back, her small hand resting over his cheek. Looking back up into his eyes, she smiled at him nodding her head to assure him. Before she realized she was already raising her lips back against his, humming into their kiss.

Quentin. He smiled as she nodded her head and he leaned back down to kiss her again. His lips moving softly and slowly against hers as his tongue pushed past her lips. This wasn’t his intention when he came over here. But there had always been an intense sexual connection between them. He moved his hand to her side as he pushed it up under her shirt and he caressed her breast. Humming softly into their kiss as he deepened it and let his lower body press against hers

Jaycee. Jaycee softly caressed his tongue with her own, moaning softly as her body was kissed with goosebumps. They could literally plan an innocent hang out and this was what neither could fight against. Her hand sliding up into his dark locks, making a fist into his hair. Her free hand running over his peck and down his abs, moaning out of appreciation for how his body felt under her fingers.

Quentin. “you’re so sexy” he hummed against her lips as he continued to kiss her. Breaking the kiss only long enough to remove her shirt and then his own. Wanting to feel her skin against his own. “I want you” he breathed against her lips. Kissing her fervently as he bit at her bottom lip

Jaycee. ”Quentin..” she moaned softly as she felt his skin against her own. Her hips rocked up against his, feeling just how much he wanted her. Her panties were soaked already from how much he turned her on. Pulling his top lip between her teeth, biting gently. “I want you too..” she rocked her hips again.

Quentin. He growled softly as she bit at his top lip. Rocking his hips as he rubbed his bulge against her center. He waited for her to say she wanted him too and he moved his hand from her breast to press against her neck. Kissing her more sexually as his tongue explored every inch of her mouth. His thumb caressing her jawline. “I’m gonna make you feel so good” he promised. Moving down her body to pull down her shorts and panties before leaning in to bite the inside or her thigh

Jaycee. Her breathing was rapid and moans were mixed into their kissing, especially as it started to get really heated. As his hand pressed against her neck, she hummed letting their tongue caress over the roof of his mouth. Her hips raised with a sharp hiss escaped her lips, when he bit her inner thigh. “You always do..” she ran her hands over her tits, while keeping her eyes locked on his. Letting him see how needy she was for him.

Quentin. He watched her as she caressed her own breast and he licked his lips getting them nice and wet. His head leaning down between her legs as he sucked her bud between his lips. His eyes locked with hers as he moved his hand to push two fingers deep between her folds

Jaycee. Jaycee’s hips jerked as he sucked her clit between his perfect lips. “Quentin..” she gasped as from his fingers sunk into her. She knew he wanted to bring her to an quick orgasm, but didn’t know if he was going to let her cum or not. “Did you miss this pussy, baby..” she groaned through her gritted teeth, pinching her nipple while her other hand found his free hand, lacing their fingers together.

Quentin. He continued to finger her deep and slow. rolling his wrist for added pleasure as he flicked her clit with his tongue and then sucked on it again. “Oh yeah baby” he hummed as he pulled away only for a moment before fingering her faster. Sucking her clit between his teeth as he bit down on it gently. His hand clenching around hers with their fingers laced

Jaycee. Her walls began to tighten around his fingers, as he worked her with teeth biting down on her clit. A scream flew from her as she tightened her grip on his hand and almost jerked up into a sitting position. Her back arched as she locked her eyes on his. “I’m... Babyy..” she gasped as she was right there. “Please..” she begged out in panting breaths.

Quentin. Watching her reaction made him smirk against her. Pulling back back to rub her clit with his thumb as he slowed his movements. “If you cum now I have to reason to fuck you” he said with a low tone. Pulling his hand from hers as he pushed his sweats down just far enough to reveal his very hard length. Moving his hand from between her legs he grinned greedily. Aligning himself with her to rub his tip against her folds.

Jaycee. Growling with frustration, she knew he was going to do that. “It hasn’t stopped you before.” She retorted, in a smart ass, frustrated way. Hey eyes landed on his pulsating cock, not realizing she moaned just from the sight. Her hips rolled, massaging her wet folds and entrance over the head of his cock. Just a little more pressure and he’d sink right in, causing her to whimper with how empty she is.

Quentin. “you’re right, it hasn’t” he grinned. Lifting himself to his knees as he lined himself up with her and moved his hands to the back of her thighs. Licking his lips he pressed his weight into her. Pushing her legs forward as his length sunk deep between her tight folds. Rolling his hips into her base before pumping in and out slow and hard.

Jaycee. He has her pinned down and all she could do was take what he wanted her to have. Her walls instantly tightening around his cock, as she was already so close before he abruptly stopped her from falling. “So fucking full and deep..” she moaned as her hands reached down to dig her nails into his hip. Hearing their bodies working together, causes her to purposely squeeze him. “Oh, god..” she cried out as her head tilted back, unable to keep her eyes open.

Quentin. “you like that baby?” He asked through hard breaths. His strokes into her still slow and deep an she squeezed her walks against him. “Mmm more” he hummed at the feeling of her nails. Pushing his weight against the back of her thighs with his hands as he rolled his hips into her

Jaycee. Jaycee’s body shook as he slowly thrusted into her so deep. “Yes.” Gasping out as her nails dug deeper. She knew he wanted her marks on him just as much as she loved his on her. “I need..” she slid her hands from his hip, over his abs to his chest. She needed him to be completely against her, while going so slow. So close to the edge already, as her walls squeezed his cock more. Looking up at him, licking her dry lips. Completely at his mercy.

Quentin. “Don’t you dare cum” he growled softly. The feeling of her nails biting at his skin causing his thrusts to become more sharp. He moved one of his hands to her neck, pressing softly as his thumb rubbed over her lips. “I need you too baby” he moaned. Starting to thrust faster and harder as he began to bottom out on her

Jaycee. Fuck he was driving her crazy, and she loved every second of it. Her head tilted back as his hand pressed against her neck. Gently kissing his thumb, before biting the padding. His sweet admission to needing her too, caused her body to shiver. Moaning out his name, as she took every powerful thrust he gave her. “Oh.. God. Don’t..” her back arched. “Stop.” Sweat kissing her skin as she was holding onto the ledge of a strong orgasm, ready to wreck her.

Quentin. His hand tightened around her neck as he felt her walls clench even tighter around him. Her body trembling beneath him as he rammed into her over and over. “Fuck baby... you feel so good” he moaned with a soft growl through clenched teeth. His own body tightening with pleasure as his release built inside of him. “Oh shit... you gonna cum for me baby?” he asked through hard breaths as their bodies continued to slap together.

Jaycee. Lips parted as his hand tightened around her neck. “Oh god, baby please don’t stop..” she begged, breathlessly as her toes curled, her back arched and her entire body shook. “I want you to cum with me.. Let me feel you.” Jaycee tried to hold back her release but her walls clamped down on his cock, juices flowing. “Quentin!” Her moans were hoarse from the grip of his hand on her neck.

Quentin. Feeling her juices spill out around him pushed him right over the edge. “Oh shit... I’m Cumming baby” he moaned as he felt himself shoot his hot sticky cum deep into her core. His body jerking with pleasure as they rode out their orgasms together until he finally collapsed on top of her. Hard breaths beating against the side of her face as he loosened his grip on her and moved to kiss her lips

Jaycee. Jaycee loved when they were together like this and she missed it so much. Quentin always knew exactly what she needed, what her body needed and even her broken heart. Gasping for air as she held onto him tightly, moaning as he kissed her, kissing him back slowly, and sensually. Nuzzling her sweaty nose over his, trying to catch her breath. “Thank god your home.” She whispered against his lips. Her hands sliding up his sweaty back, feeling his body. “You were gone for to damn long.” Raising her legs to wrap around him, giggling softly before kissing him again softly. “But you came home t-. You came home with me in a horrible mess. And I’m sorry about that.” She wanted to be open and honest with him, her lips swollen along with her roses cheeks. Realizing she almost made a fool of herself saying he came home to her. Psh! she thought to herself, she didn’t feel like anyone would want to put up with her.

Quentin. He laid on top of her with his weight pressing into his elbows on either side of her head. Looking down into her eyes as he kissed her slowly and passionately. Smiling against her lips at her words. “Of course I came home. You’re here” he replied softly. His hands caressing her hair as he kept his eyes locked on hers. “I don’t care how much of a mess you are baby. We’re all just a bunch of horrible messes. But your my mess and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Jaycee. Jaycee looked up at him with a soft smile, listening to his words and was try not to get emotional. Her chin trembled and she nodded her head. Running her hands up and down his back, then through his hair. “I love you. And I’m so thankful you accept me for who I am.” She whispered not trusting her voice. Both of her hands cupped his face as she smiled up at him before kissing him passionately, holding onto him tightly. She has been struggling with herself and how she is after being told she’s stressful.

#chats:jaycee #chats:discord #ft.jaycee #tw::nsfw::

2 notes · View notes

drjackandmissjo · 5 years ago

Text

firewhisky on ice, sunset and vine

you’ve ruined my life by not being mine

Chapter 2 --- previous chapter --- next chapter

Harry Potter fic Masterlist

Set in the course of his Sixth Year, this story follows Slytherin’s finest, Blaise Zabini, as he navigates classes and friendships and Death Eaters and a certain idiot plant-head Gryffindor.

'Dittany is a powerful healing herb and restorative and may be eaten raw to cure shallow wounds.'

Blaise had read that same sentence for the 24th time. Had counted each time his eyes went up on the page towards the words that were now permanently marked in his memory, yet so far out of his grasp. It wasn't that 'One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi' was a boring book. To someone truly passionate about the subject it might actually be quite enjoyable, but it was a textbook and textbooks are not supposed to be entertaining. Unless you were a freak as Granger, but her distorted mentality was not his to judge.

Sighing, he rested his head on the table he was studying on, careful not to make too much noise. Madam Pince and her fine hearing were simply awful to anyone who merely breathed too loudly in the library. "One more time and if I can't do it then I'll try again later after dinner" he told himself, on the verge of despair.

He simply couldn't understand. Charms came easy to him, even Potions with Snape wasn't that hard to follow, even if he was a mess at teaching it: brilliant man and head of the house, but all over the place and really, really terrible at sharing knowledge. Even in his current new position as Defence Against the Dark Arts, he wasn't that great, and that was the job he had lusted after, for years.

But flowers and herbs, those were is Achilles's heel. The worst part was that it seemed to come naturally to Bloody Longbottom.

Perfect asshole with his neat notes at the margins of his books and his terrible grasp of changing shit from their original form, but despite all that was better than a few of his housemates and studied hard to maintain his acceptable level in Transfiguration. Bloody moron who simply could understand what Professor Sprout meant to say even before she said it, who had the best grades in Herbology, who laughed tilting his head backwards whenever Saint Potter or one of his friends made a joke that was particularly funny, who seemed to be everywhere since their first Transfiguration lecture together.

Blaise was so screwed.

He had now begun to have a hard time concentrating during the class he seated with the Gryffindor, his mind wandering to the bloody fingers tapping lightly over the desk as he scrunched his nose up in concentration.

He was so bloody screwed.

'Rule number eight, if you can't get someone out of your head, make sure you're stuck in theirs also.'

But it wasn't that easy, was it? For one, despite being 100% positive of his sexuality, he hadn't told anyone but his mother, who was really supportive and immediately shared all her rules for landing a hot and rich husband. At that time he had laughed, almost uncomfortable, but now he was sure her set of rules was going to be a lifesaver, and not only when boys were concerned.

Second, he did not know whether or not Longbottom shared his likings and had absolutely no way of figuring it out. Sure, he had gone to the Yule Ball two years prior with the Female Weasley and hang out now with Loony Lovegood and the rest of the moronic Gryffindors, but there was nothing that betrayed his heart's true desires. He had no one in their circle to ask to, and was pretty sure that cute, shy, jacked, nervous and downright hot Longbottom, "damn Salazar why even his surname had to have such a sexual innuendo?", wasn't out or anything. Maybe he was still figuring it all out?

Groaning, he rose up to his feet, unable to concentrate on fucking dittany without losing his mind for one second more. Bloody Longbottom with his very nice ass made his way into his mind and suddenly Blaise's pants felt way too tight for his own comfort and he had to adjust his robe. He closed roughly his book, placing it in his bag alongside his notebook and pens and highlighters, avoiding Madam Pince's burning glare at the unwanted noise.

He began to quickly make his way towards the Great Hall, wondering what would be there for dinner and completely lost in thought. In the back of his mind, he could feel his mother's voice telling him 'Rule number twelve, always be conscious of your surroundings', but his brain couldn't stop wandering, his body relying only on muscle memory to not walk into walls.

Unfortunately, muscle memory wasn't that reliable when taking into account other moving people and objects. Which was why he had ended on the floor, landing on his ass and soundly cursing whoever was the bloody "pezzo di merda di doxy" that still hadn't learnt how to walk.

His mother was always controlled and poised and he had never heard a bad word coming from her red painted lips, but his paternal grandparents were a different kind of people. His grandfather’s favourite word was, alongside of other Italian curses, a very pointed minchia. He used it almost on each sentence, changing the intonation to accommodate a different meaning. Most of the time he added to the equation a variety of gestures that, given the situation, assumed a rather crude sense.

His Nonna was slightly more PG, preferred not to use certain words, especially in front of Blaise, but she still told her husband to fuck himself in whichever language she was thinking at the moment and taught him her fair share of Ethiopian hexes.

"You came onto me, genius" the idiot that had clearly gone into him said, rather angrily sounding. "Ma porca di quella puttana" Blaise thought, of course his rotten luck would make him crash into the long legged Gryffindor he was just daydreaming of.

Remembering who he was and finally stopping acting like a ridiculous hormonal dork, he rose from the floor, trying to look menacing despite being the shorter one in this debate. "No, good sir, you appeared out of nowhere" he said, sounding sturdier and surer than he'd thought. He was rather proud of his impeccable composure, until the other boy spoke with a sly smirk on his lips, "Haven't taken my apparition exam yet so can't just do that."

Blaise's brain stopped working immediately. Deep down he knew that anyone, even someone as dull and bland as a Gryffindor, could surprise him, and so far the dumb dork had surpassed all his expectations, excluding the ones on Transfiguration. But he simply couldn't picture sweet, shy, formerly chubby, Schlongbottom as someone who knew how to talk back, especially with such an authoritative tone. The mere thought did funny things to his body.

Questions began to swim all around his mind: Was this real or a hallucination caused by his very recent fall? Since when did this bloody plant-head even know sarcasm? How was it possible for someone to become even more attractive?

Did Blaise mention that he was so fucking screwed?

"What, cat got your tongue?" Longbottom asked smugly, visibly pleased with himself.

In that moment Blaise swore off any possible feeling that wasn't related to hatred or anger towards the idiot in front of him. "I don't reply to morons such as yourself" he said, mustering a casual and bored tone he didn't know he had. "Bloody superb" he thought proudly as he watched the Gryffindor's gaze harden.

He suddenly didn't enjoy the turn their conversation had taken.

Longbottom then briskly shoved his forgotten Herbology textbook, "when did he even picked it up?", and stormed off to the other side of the empty corridor, towards the glasshouse, without uttering a single word.

"Great Hall's on the other side, idiota" he yelled at his slowly stepping away back, "You're gonna be late for dinner." Blaise couldn't care less, of course, but the impulsive part of his brain wanted to get the Gryffindor's attention for a little bit longer.

Longbottom stopped dead on his track, turning sideways to look back at Blaise and giving him the perfect side view of his backside, as well as of his front. "Ammazza oh." was the only thought that filled his mind before registering that the other boy was speaking: “Not that's any concern of yours, but I gotta get some Baneberry for my toad."

He was speechless. It was explicitly forbidden to take even the most innocuous weed from the glasshouses and classes, even during lectures to study them afterwards, yet this bloody Gryffindor marched towards the door as if he owned the place. He knew Longbottom had the best grades and was clearly their Professor's favourite since he fainted in excitement on their second year at their first class, but damn.

Astonished, he couldn't stop himself from blunting possibly the dumbest sentence ever: “But Professor Sprouts doesn't let us take any of her plants outside our designated scheduled time!"

The other boy had the audacity to grin, viciously and borderline dangerously and porca miseria it was getting hotter under his robe by the second. "Maybe to the rest of this school" Longbottom said, his shoulders squared and posture tense, "But I'm her assistant and have her blessings to do whatever the hell I want in any of the greenhouses, however dangerous it might be. So taking an innocuous plant for my toad isn't gonna get me expelled before I can say 'Quidditch'"

Blaise did definitely misread the look the Gryffindor gave him, thinking it hinted something while it was only meant as a superiority glance, and he was definitely thinking with his dick now.

Longbottom merely turned around, unbothered by his silence, and walked forward towards the glasshouse for the 2nd year, unaware that Blaise was still rooted on his spot, trying to regain his footing and willing his body to direct the blood back into his legs, failing miserably.

He was in such deep shit it would almost be laughable.

BONUS

When Neville turns around all he can think is either "Shitshitshitshit" and "Damn he's hot but I’m Str8. I think, but damn I'd tap that."

Glossary:

"Pezzo di merda di doxy" means 'piece of doxy shit' "Minchia" is a commonly used curse word, especially in southern Italy; it literally can mean both penis or vagina, depending on where you're from, but most commonly is referred to the female genital; it is typically used in the same way as the English 'fuck' to curse "Nonna" is Grandmother "Ma porca di quella puttana" again, another curse; literally is 'that fucking bitch' or something along those lines, but here it is used as an expression of disbelief, like 'you gotta be kidding me' "Idiota" is idiot "Ammazza oh", literally "Kill it oh", is the equal of a long whistle, mostly of approval "Porca miseria" is "that rotten luck", and is used to express discomfort or as the English 'holy shit'

I'm sorry for all those curse words! I deeply apologize!

Bonus: When Neville turns around all he can think is either "Shitshitshitshit" and "Damn he's hot but I’m Str8. I think, but damn I'd tap that."

6 notes · View notes

collective-laugh · 6 years ago

Text

Detective AU - Muriel x MC Chapter 4

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Taglist: @a-zoidberg-aesthetic @lesbiancountess @fartkittyonline @yaysam @y-all-dnt-ve @countgoatman-and-drleechboy @julians-chest-hair @vesuviass @caterpiller-tea @zaemoultrie75901 @saltywerewolfrebel @obsessedwiththearcana @thatsaltyseaman @xburningwitch @i-dont-speak-wolf @missrabbitart @softarcana

This chapter was highly inspired by ‘Private Investigations’ by the Dire Straits. @dr-devorak-will-seeyounow introduced me, and it fit the vibe, and I fell in love! I recommend listening while reading!

Also, please let me know if you would like me to put together some sort of playlist/mood music! I’ve done this before on AO3, and it really seems to help!

Thank you to everyone who has made this series such a success, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I have! Please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Chapter Four: Private Investigations

“You’re looking more miserable than usual, Muriel.” Ludovico leans against the handrail to the back entrance of the Raven, “Which is a feat, considering you always look miserable.”

Muriel lets the cigarette dangle from his lips, still worried about her, hoping that Julian got her back home safely, that he didn’t try anything…

If he found out he so much as laid a hand on her, he’d fucking kill him.

He didn’t really know why he cared so much, and he knew the doctor well enough to know he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything...sober.

“‘m tired.” Muriel claims, and though it’s a half truth, he wished he wasn’t so transparent, “Don’t worry about it.”

Ludovico smirks at him, tossing his cigarette butt out in the rain, “Wouldn’t have anything to do with the little broad you walked in with, huh?”

“No.” He answers a little too quickly, a little too sharply.

He raises his eyebrows, unused to Muriel being anything other than quietly benign, and asks, “Who was she anyway?”

Muriel knew it was none of his business, but he didn’t mind Ludovico, and it didn’t hurt to talk to someone, he guessed. That was always Asra’s advice - “feelings” and “talking” and all that bullshit.

“You wanna, ah,” He waggles his eyebrows, “make whoopee with her?”

Never mind.

Muriel rolls his eyes, smashing his cigarette on the hand rail. Trying to talk to people was shit, and definitely something he didn’t want to make a habit.

“She’s a friend.” He claims, which...isn’t a lie. He’s known her for years now, and knows more about her than he probably ought to, considering just how little they talked. Asra liked to talk about her to no end, sparing no detail about just how much he missed her.

He hopes she’s gotten home safely, that she’s managed to fall asleep so she doesn’t muck up her interview with the Countess later.

The Countess...he could hardly believe that the Countess of Vesuvia herself had resorted to a backwater private detective, no offense to her or Asra. She held no real title outside of being insanely rich and being the former wife of the most prominent crime boss in the city.

Lucio sickened Muriel. The thought of him made him sneer again, and the mere idea that someone could pull the right strings and make the right deals with the right people, and all his problems, all the sick shit he did, could just disappear.

“A friend, huh? Well, the last friend I had like that ended up in my bed, compadre.” Ludovico raises his brow, his sleazy intentions obvious, “You could always give her my number if she doesn’t have someone waitin’ for her at home.”

He was about to say she did, that there was Asra or maybe even Julian waiting for her back at the office, that she wasn’t going to be in that dank little hole all on her own.

Maybe it was selfish. It was definitely selfish to want to be the one waiting for her.

He curses himself, wondering when the hell he started considering her as anything more than an acquaintance he kept at arms’ length. He’s itching for another cigarette, especially as he’s facing the stupid grin on Ludovico’s face. Instead of lighting another, he’s looking at the watch on his wrist. It was a quarter past five, which meant he was free to go.

“Maybe.” He says, trying not to sound so cryptic, but, like Asra said, it was a second nature to him.

He debates stopping back by the office. He’d sent Jules home with her around midnight, and he did want to make sure she was alright. But, something she said to him earlier stuck out like a sore thumb, something about how she could walk herself home.

She was still a grown woman, even if she couldn’t really remember who she was, and he wasn’t certain she’d be all too thrilled about his breathing down her neck.

He does light a cigarette, with Ludovico yelling something crude about her after him, and he shuts his eyes for just a moment, trying to steady himself. It had been a long night, and he was so tired, but he needed to check on her, to make sure she got home alright…

The nagging voice in his head telling him to leave her be wins, despite his instincts screaming at him to do otherwise. He walks the opposite direction, straight back home.

His place is small, modest, and...decidedly not comfortable. The landlord insisted on no pets, but as soon as she saw Muriel, she made an exception, considering she claimed, “ruffians’ll go running soon as they see you, boy!” He couldn’t live anywhere without Inanna, he knows, and was thankful to the lady - Nonna Linka, as she insisted on being called - for letting him stay.

She wasn’t up yet, like anyone with sense, so he’s alone on his trek up the single flight of stairs. He isn’t surprised to find his door unlocked, considering the damn thing had been broken for months now, and all but collapses in bed alongside Inanna.

He dreams of her, of happier times, and wishes things were simpler than he made them out to be.

She’s scrambling to get dressed.

It’s embarrassing; the first time in months she’s had a case, and actual, honest to God interview with a client, and she’s running around like a headless chicken trying to gather everything she needed. Asra would have been no better, she knew, waiting until the last minute for everything, but she refuses to think of him now, today, at least until she’s gotten this interview over with.

It was a murder case. Not only a murder case, but a case surrounding the Lucio Morgason. It was more than she ever could have asked for, and she was squandering it because she could quite reach the button on her dress.

Once she’s certain she’s gathered everything - and certain that she’s forgotten at least one thing - she’s out the door, only half remembering to lock it and turn the tacky neon signs off. She only barely catches the train to the Heart District, and knows she must look a mess.

A gorgeous socialite looks at her, all legs and brown hair tied up in some elaborate braid, lips painted a red far too improper for the time of day, and arches a perfectly sculpted brow, as if the very sight of her was amusing.

It was enough to send her blood boiling, and remind her exactly what she was here for.

Nadia’s house - estate, mansion, whatever - is only a seven minute walk and a four minute run from the train station, and she makes it with five minutes to spare before she was considered tardy. It takes two minutes to have her looking presentable again, another three to even reach the door and be led inside by a butler - butler! - one to have her coat taken, and another seven before she even sees Nadia.

She’s the picture of perfection, and puts that socialite from the train to shame, effortlessly beautiful with her long, black hair, and long, golden dress. She greets her gracefully, as she does all things, and ensures that they’re alone, beginning the interview in Lucio’s private library, sitting across from one another.

“Can you tell me about the last time you saw your husband?” She asks, subtly looking over to the tape recorder to ensure that it was getting all of this. Her hand stood ready, just in case Nadia said anything important, and she settles into detective mode, trying to calm herself.

“I…” Nadia wrings her hands, eyeing the white gloves she set aside moments before, as if she was debating whether or not she really wanted to hold them. “I don’t remember my husband. The accident…” She shrugs, looking everywhere but at the detective, “I didn’t know where else to turn, detective. The law is thankful he’s dead, and his ‘friends’ are starting to call for my removal.”

“Removal?” She asks, “Removal from what?”

“I’ve been acting as an interim...boss, I suppose.” She finally meets her eyes, “You must understand, detective. This city isn’t kind to us.”

Truer words had never been spoken, but she only purses her lips before asking, “Is there anyone who might have wanted to hurt your husband? Anyone he had any bad blood with?”

“He was not known for his...subtlety.” Nadia hesitates, as if the gravity of the situation was just catching up to her, “Detective, you must know that I’m willing to pay you handsomely for your services. And that the law is not to know of this.” She says it with such vindication, with such authority, that the detective feels like she has to listen.

“Don’t worry about that.” She replies, thankful her voice didn’t betray her nerves, “This conversation will only ever be heard by you, me, and my associate.”

“Asra?” Nadia inquires, like she was quizzing herself to see if she could remember his name.

The detective nods, but moves on, “Did your husband have any enemies?”

Nadia purses her lips, eyes flicking over to the tape recorder before pulling a small notepad from between the chair and its cushion, sliding it across the table toward Nadia, “I, um...I compiled a short list of people it could possibly be, or people who might have wanted him dead.”

The detective flicks through the pages, though the only writing found inside is on the first and second slips of paper. “Consul Valerius…Vulgora...these are his associates, right?”

Nadia opens her mouth to say something, closes it, and shakes her head, “They are...suspicious at the very least.”

The detective purses her lips.

This was going to be a long interview.

95 notes · View notes

imagine-lcorp · 6 years ago

Text

Mustand Ride (Part VIII)

A/N: Hello beautiful beans, long time not post but here we are again! Also, i feel like theres too much going on with this story but we’re too far to stop now...So this story continues!! but if you like it and want me to reach the end of it, please leave your comments and tell me what you think!! <3 Kudos to y’all!

Lena Luthor x Shapeshifter Reader//Word Count: 1,637

Series: Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII

"(Y/N), wake up!"

Lena had no clue of what was happening until it was too late. She had seen the dart between your fingers and heard the cars approaching in the distance. Realization had come to her the moment you dropped unconscious on the floor and, for the first time in a long time, she felt helpless. You had told her to run and she wanted to do so but she wasn't going to let you there. She held you, touching your face and trying to wake you up, until she noticed some cars moving around you. They stopped in the middle of the street surrounding you and when the doors started to open she held you tighter as if to protect you.

A couple of men exited the black SUVs and Lena watched them carefully while trying to figure out a plan to escape. One of the drivers simply walked around the car to open the back passenger door, revealing a red dress and a snake tattoo she knew very well.

"Don't bother. The sedative will last for a couple of hours more." Roulette came out of the van as if she was heading towards any other social party, looking slightly annoyed at her heroics. "Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt you, lovebirds, on your romantic stroll?"

She stood right in front of you and tilted her head towards you. Her men moved quickly, grabbing Lena and trying to hold her in place as the others moved you away. But Lena wasn't going to let you go that easy. She gave the two men that went after her a difficult time, managing to land a few good punches. However, as much as she struggled against them, they finally succeeded at stopping her from doing anything else.

"Stop! What are you doing?" She screamed.

Roulette didn't seem to mind the little fight but she lighted up as her men held you by the arms and took you towards her. She reached out with a hand and pulled your hanging head up to take a good look at you, out of energy and any sign of consciousness. There were so many things already planned for you and Roulette couldn't have been more pleased to have you back. A little smile appeared on her face at the thought.

"Well, my grand reopening wouldn't be complete without one of the stars of the show, Lena. I would send you an invitation, unfortunately, since your friends spoiled the party last time, I think it's better if I don't. Take the little beastie." She let you head fall once again and the men quickly moved you inside one of the cars.

"No! Please, don't hurt-" Roulette gestured to one of the men to cover her mouth. After that, the only thing they heard from Lena was muffled screams.

"I'm afraid I must cut our conversation short, Miss Luthor, but the show must go on." She turned her back towards her and went back inside of the van. "Hope we don't see each other again."

The car door closed and with that Lena felt a sharp pain on the back of her neck. For a second, she wondered if this was what you had felt a few moments ago, a creeping fear and pain before the darkness engulfed you. She thought it had been indeed like that before she closed her eyes, letting the darkness swallow her too.

"Lena." She heard a voice calling her soon after. She frowned with her eyes still closed, her senses coming back to her slowly. She felt drowsy, a hint of pain still on her neck and she knew there was a headache coming soon.

"(Y/N)?" She asked with a hoarse voice.

As she opened her eyes she tried to adjust to the bright light above her, recognizing some of the premises of the place she was in. She was lying on a bed at the medical bay at the DEO and for a moment she was relieved knowing you were both safe. But then she saw Kara seated near her, in full Supergirl regalia, and Alex was there too, trying to hide her concern.

"Take it easy, okay?" She said placing a helping hand on Lena's back as she pulled herself up. "The sedatives they gave you were quite strong."

"How did you find us?" Lena asked.

"You..." Kara looked unsure about how to answer.

"Kara found you on her patrol." Alex intervened.

"Yeah, you were unconscious. I brought you as soon as I could. You're gonna be fine." Kara assured her.

However, Lena didn't feel quite fine. The pain around the back of her neck was still there and all this conversation seemed off. It was then that she remembered your walk around the city, on the block near Nonna Giulia's. The memory of you falling to the ground came next, the cars around you, the red dress, the serpent tattoo, and your dragging feet.

"Kara." She looked at her and then looked around trying to find you. When she didn't, fear slipped through her words the next time she spoke. "Where's (Y/N)?"

Kara and Alex looked briefly at each other. Neither of them said a word right away, it was as if they were deciding who would talk and which words to use. It didn't help Lena's anxiety. Kara had brought Lena as soon as she found her and then had gone to check up your apartment. Everything was left the same with no sign of you.

"We don't know." Alex finally admitted with a defeated sigh.

Lena's heart shrunk. The pain seemed to intensify ten times after that. It couldn't be possible. It shouldn't have been possible that you were gone. How could she have let them take you? She knew how to fight. She was a genius. She should have found a way to defend you-.

"Lena." Kara called her name once she saw Lena's expression change. It was clear she was blaming herself somehow and she couldn't let her do it. She took her hand, making Lena focus back on her.

"Can you remember anything of what happened to you?" Alex moved to face Lena.

Lena squeezed Kara's hand, as if that could possibly give her some strength. There was a lump in her throat but she made herself swallow it.

She blinked a few times, putting the coming tears and the anger at bay before answering. "Roulette."

"Did you see her?" Kara asked.

"She said she needed (Y/N)...for her grand reopening." Lena squeezed Kara's hand even tighter. If she hadn't had super strength, Kara was sure Lena could have had crusher her bones.

"I promise you, we're gonna find (Y/N)."

"We will." Alex agreed.

The Danvers sisters had wanted to let Lena rest before attacking her with questions but she refused. She told them about your encounter with Roulette, giving Alex and Kara a lead to follow. Alex informed pretty much everyone at the DEO of your sudden disappearance and assured her they were going to use every source at hand to find you. She even sent a quick message to Maggie, hoping she could get any other lead to help them find Roulette.

Lena got out of the bed when their conversation was done, not even Kara could stop her from doing so. Rest wouldn't come easy to her until she had any news about you and, before letting the guilt, the worry, or the pain consume her, she was going to help with everything she could.

"J'onn, any news?" Alex asked once they reached the control room, where J'onn, Winn and a few other DEO agents were already searching for you.

A screen showed a map of National City and many others different views of security cameras of its streets. Thanks to Winn they were able to find footage of the exact moment of your abduction and they have tried to follow Roulette's tracks. Lena observer, however, there was a point were all visuals of her and his men were no longer visible.

He shook his head no. "Our agents are checking every feed they can find. We were able to recreate a part of Roulette's route while you still were with Miss Luthor but nothing else.

"Wait, don't you have trackers on your agents? Can't we locate (Y/N)'s tracker?" Lena wondered.

"No, we can't." Alex cursed under her breath as she remembered. "I had to pull the tracker out after the attack at the bank. It was broken. We we're supposed to replace it tomorrow morning."

Lena felt truly helpless after that declaration. The situation was getting more and more complicated and with your abduction it just turned nerve-wrecking. The DEO had a lot of work to do. Lillian and Henshaw were still on the loose, they had no idea of what had happened with the three shifters in the cells, and now Roulette had made a comeback only to take you away.

"So we're in the dark." Lena's voice trembled.

It hurt Kara to see her best friend like this, as if they had ripped a limb from Lena... and it may have been almost true. Since you had met each other, Kara hadn't seen a couple more in love than the two of you. You were Lena's heart and they had taken you from her. She took Lena's hand to offer her some comfort.

Kara recalled the time she had been involved in Roulette's fight club against her will. She knew how ruthless she was when it came to her business but only you had truly known what Roulette was capable of. But you were not alone in this and neither was Lena. She knew the team would exhaust every possibility to find you and bring you back. She only hoped it didn't take too long.

#lena luthor #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor imagines #lena x reader #lena luthor x reader #mustang ride #mustang ride series #shapeshifter #Shapeshifter!Reader #shapeshifter reader #part viii #lena luthor x you

160 notes · View notes

noorhelmcliche · 6 years ago

Text

more incantava fanfics!

just a disclaimer: this post is going to be super long, i didn’t write these AGAIN I AM NOT CLAIMING THESE ARE MINE, and yeah click ‘keep reading,’ to continue...

eleonora was having a shitty day. She got messaged again by some dude on Instagram named alessandro who just couldn't take a hint. He had been messaging her non stop for 2 weeks now which made sense to her because while edoardo's instagram was full of pics of them she decided to keep her relationship on a lower profile which was hard with a guy like edoardo. silvia wouldn't stop talking about some new guy in school named alessandro who had just transferred halfway through the year to this school. According to her sources, he wanted to join the villa and he was super hot. sana was the only one who had seen the guy and thought " he was just like the others". She showed them a picture and sure enough it was him. Her Instagram stalker. federica gave her opinion on him and soon enough so did eva. When eva was done talking she noticed a change in her friend's mood so she drifted the conversation from alessandro to silvia's new cat and her developed baking skills ( silvia’s not the cat’s). Soon the bell rang and they went to class. eva stayed behind and asked eleonora if she was okay. eleonora couldn’t tell her. eva already had enough on her plate after what happened with gio and fede, she was just trying to move on and study with no distractions. eleonora just shrugged and said “ I’m fine just didn’t sleep well last night”. Though eva didn’t seem to believe it she realized if eleonora wanted to tell their group of friends she would of. “ Ok just remember if you need anything I’m here for you.” eva said. ele nodded and they hugged before they went separate ways. Eleonora walked to her next and last class, chemistry. She got there just before class started and just her luck alessandro was in this class as well. The teacher told him to introduce himself and he happily stood up. She tuned him out and sat down on the only seat left in class the one next to his. She usually loved chemistry and actually excelled in the subject but today she couldn’t even concentrate on what the teacher was saying. Soon eleonora was snapped out of her gaze by the teacher herself. “Eleonora Sava!” she yelled, making ele stop and actually listen. “As I was saying, you will be showing the new kid about how our class works.”, she said and continued on with her lesson. “hi gorgeous , just letting you know that you can call me ale .” said alessandro in a flirtatious tone. “ ok let’s just get started” ele responded completely ignoring his advances. “ come on! you really don’t recognize me?!” he exclaimed. ele rolled her eyes and said “ ok alessandro , let me tell you this, I don’t want you and i just want to do what the teacher said and leave , ok stalker?” she didn’t wait for him to respond and started to explain to him all the material her chemistry class has done. soon there were only 10 minutes left of their class and she felt a cool unfamiliar hand start to creep up her thigh. as soon as ele realized what was actually going on, she spanked his hand and gave him a glare. he seemed to be grinning as she angrily said “ what the fuck do you think you are doing?!” “oh I’m just giving you a sneak peek of what’s to come.” suddenly ele felt sick remembering what happened with edo’s brother. she got up and asked the teacher to go to the nurse because she really felt bad and excused herself because it was her last period. before the teacher even finished her goodbyes , she gathered her stuff and bolted without a second glance. she rushed to the bathroom feeling a panic attack coming on. as she calmed herself down in a stall, two girls came in thinking they were alone. “ so did you see edoardo’s new Instagram post ?” one started. “ of course Valentina the one where he is at that expensive ice cream shop looking hot as always , everyone has already.” the other responded. “ well stella apparently he was getting his new girlfriend some you know that uptight bitch eleonora.” said valentina. “ she is so lucky I mean imagine being able to have the Edoardo Incanti at anytime.” said stella dreamily. “ well she isn’t good enough for him. he deserves someone who can satisfy him and his needs and keep him popular. she clearly can’t , have you seen her ? anyway i’m not the only one who thinks so.” said Valentina arrogantly full of jealousy. “ don’t waste your breath on her and we have to go , my parents want me home early.” responded stella. as they left , ele got out and was trying to process all that has happened. So people thought she wasn’t good enough for her boyfriend , no big deal. but suddenly ele started to feel bad, something she hasn’t felt in a long time , insecure. maybe they were right she wasn’t right for edo , a gorgeous rich boy should have a just as perfect girl next to him.so why did he pick her ? these feelings were feelings she always kept deep down inside because she had worked hard for where she is now. she wipes her tears and made her self look presentable then got out of the bathroom to meet up with the girls. they were all talking about their days when a car interrupted them. edo said hi to all the girls and then ele bid goodbyes to all her friends and walked into his car. he kissed her cheek and said “ hey bellisima”. she responded shyly not really believing him for once and let out a small hey. as they were driving to thier place it was quiet. all of a sudden edo pulls over a new street with nice houses but one seemed to have new people moving in. so he drives the car into the alleyway next to the houses so they can’t be seen. when they finally had some privacy, edo turned to her and asked her “ what is wrong bella donna”. “ please stop calling me that”she responded. “ why not it’s true” he said confused by her behavior. “ why did you pick me?” ele said tears clouding up her eyes. suddenly she is pulled in to his lap from her seat so she is straddling him. “ what? what do you mean? I love you and your whole self. I love the way you help your friends and fight for them when you need to. I love how you can be silly and funny when you want to be. I love your gorgeous emerald eyes with sleek dark brown hair that I love to run my fingers through so much and your oh so red lips. I love the way you are so perfect for me, putting me in my place when I need it . I just love you ele.” he said meaningfully while looking into her eyes. “ but others don’t think so. according to them , you deserve someone better who can satisfy your needs.” ele said touched by his words. “ you do and you are all I need eleonora francesca sava.” he responded to her lovingly. he leaned in for a short sweet kiss but ele wanted to prove the demons wrong so she made the kiss passionate and deeper. soon enough they were making out in edo’s car in an alleyway where anyone could see them but they didn’t care. Hips were colliding together and ele was just in a state of pleasure letting out occasional moans and soft gasps. as edo’s mouth was sucking harder on her neck , she hit her hand on the window and that snapped her out of her daze , remembering where they are. “edo, we have to stop” she forced herself to say. their foreheads touched and eleonora looked around and saw no one but them . “we should go home” he said with a suggestive glint in his eyes. that car ride was the quickest one she’s ever had and the moment they walked into the apartment , a night of complete bliss started. the next day when she walked into class with her head held and a hickey on her neck , mouths were wide open with shock and alessandro took a hint.

Eleonora ruefully wakes up at four fifty-five in the morning. She grumbles as she climbs out of bed, knowing she can't go back to sleep. She curses Edoardo's name as she searches for the light switch. It was his awful idea to leave for Endine Gaiano at five-thirty, since it's a six and a half hour drive. They easily could've left a few hours later, Eleonora had argued. Not wanting to get up so early.

But no, Mr. Incanti refused to. Said she had to see the villa in the morning, because it's just so beautiful. And he didn't want to waste half of their day driving.

Eleonora knows Edoardo is coming to pick her up soon, and she refuses to be unready when he arrives. She has packed all her stuff the night before, all she needs to do now is shower, eat, and get dressed.

The shower is quick, about ten minutes, and she pulls her wet hair into a bun. A lose white shirt is pulled over her head, and she slips on a pair of jean shorts.

Eleonora finishes just in time. Her phone lights up with Edoardo's message, telling her he's here.

She grabs her bags, and tiptoes from her room. Not wanting to wakeup her aunt and cousins. She gently opens and shuts the front door, making sure to lock it.

She looks for cars, and darts across the street to his Audi. She gives him a quick kiss, and fastens her seatbelt.

"Ciao." He kisses her again.

"Ciao." She says as she hooks up the AUX cord to his car. Edoardo groans,

"Please spare me from Baby K." Eleonora playfully hits his shoulder.

"No, it's not Baby K." She sticks out her tongue and hits play. Britney Spears's voice fills the car. Edoardo lets out another groan,

"This is worse." He complains. Eleonora kisses him again.

"Drive." She tells him with a laugh.

"I'm at your command, Senora." He winks at her.

The arrive at the Incanti family Villa at eleven-thirty. Eleonora has played Britney Spears for the whole drive as payback for Edoardo making her get up so early.

As they drive up the driveway, she sees the beautiful lake Endine not too far away. The sun’s beams shine across it, making it look more even beautiful.

"We'll go to the water once we've unpacked everything." Edoardo says as he parks his car.

"How long have you been visiting here?" She asks as she pulls her bags out of his backseat.

"Since I was little. My Nonna was from here. When my parents still lived together, we'd come here when school ended. I'm the only one that comes here now." Edoardo opens the front door, and they walk in. "And maybe after a swim, we can go for a hike?" He suggests. Eleonora gives him a quick peck on the lips.

"I'd love that."

She changes into a dark yellow one piece, with little flowers all over it. Edoardo removes his shirt, and puts on a pair of black swimming shorts.

They climb into the water, and Eleonora dunks her head. When she comes up for air, she sees Edoardo has gotten closer. A mischievous smile on his face.

She splashes water on him. "Whatever you're planning. Don't do it." She warns.

"Or what, you'll splash me more?" He teases. He wet curls clinging to his head.

"Shut up." She tells him, and tries to swim away. Edoardo grabs her by the waist,

"Who said you could leave?" He asks, teasingly.

"I did." She tries to wiggle out of his grasp.

"Too bad." He says and lifts her into the air.

"Put me down!" She yells. Edoardo listens, and drops her. She flounders for a moment, before coming back up. She lungs at him in retaliation, and he laughs.

She wraps her legs around him, and messes with his hair. He dunks them both underwater and kisses her. Eleonora kisses him back, and he lifts them back up.

Edoardo's hand slips into her bathing suit, and runs a hand down her back. She pulls away.

"Not here." She says, gasping for breath. They pull apart, and race out of the water. Only stopping to grab their towels.

Edoardo presses her against the back of the front door once they're inside. Her hands run through his curls, and he peppers her neck with hot kisses.

She moans with pleasure as he slips off one of her straps and nips at her shoulder.

He slips out of his shorts, and picks her up again. Taking her to the bedroom.

—

They lay in bed for hours. Wrapped in each other.

"So, want to go for that hike now?" Edoardo asks. Eleonora hits him with a pillow.

"You've tired me out too much to even think about exercise." Edoardo smirks.

"Then I've done my job." She kisses him.

"I think you have." He kisses her back, and runs a hand through her hair.

They spend of the rest of the day, and most of their vacation in bed. Not wanting to be out of each other's arms.

The hike never happens.

lol i think that’s about it for some reason i thought i had a lot more. sorry, but always feel free to send me any links to any new noorhelm fanfics! (not gonna lie i am not really a fan of skam nl or skam belgium/wtfock so yeah that’s why i don’t really post about them or read their fanfic)

#incantava

17 notes · View notes

dessarious · 4 years ago

Text

The Angel of Death Pt29

Inspired by this Story Starter by @someone-ev

AO3 Prologue Beginning Previous Next

Tris didn’t respond. She was looking for cues from the others to see if or how she should. Gina was just studying Chloe and Tris got the impression she was surprised Chloe had actually put the pieces together so fast. Adrien and his mother both seemed lost in their own thoughts so no help there. Wonder Woman was studying Tris for some reason. Fu looked… pleased?

“You bastard, you meant for this to happen.” She didn’t need the small smirk to confirm her suspicions. “Why? What could you have possibly gained by putting yourself and all the Kwami at risk like this?” The man let out a disappointed sigh and it took everything in her to not throw one of her knives at him.

“I had hoped you would enlist the help of Tikki and Plagg’s holders rather than defaulting back to killing for one. It was not necessary to save me.” He sounded like he was explaining something to a toddler yet didn’t seem to understand the danger of doing so. She was going to have an aneurysm at this rate.

“I didn’t kill them to save you. If you want to get yourself killed that’s your prerogative. I killed them because you gave them information about me that puts me, the Kwami, and anyone who happens to be around me at risk of being tortured and killed. Well, stolen in the case of the Miraculous but the point remains. You think Hawkmoth was bad? Imagine what all of them in the hands of assassins will do.” Everyone else seemed to be properly horrified by the idea. Fu actually rolled his eyes at her.

“It is very common in young people to think they are the center of the universe. I assure you others don’t see you as nearly the threat you think they do. When you get older you’ll understand.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to take deep breaths. She tried to tell herself that he didn’t understand the situation, which he didn’t. She tried to tell herself that his attitude made sense in most normal circumstances. Unfortunately she was too focused on not becoming homicidal herself to think about the others’ reactions.

“This isn’t some regular teen drama, we’re talking about groups of trained killers and you’re being flippant! How did you ever even become a Guardian?” Wonder Woman broke down into cursing at the man in various languages. Tris was impressed both at the originality and the fact that she didn’t know some of the languages.

“Especially considering you don’t even know which group of assassins she was affiliated with. The fact that you even thought she came out of that group of fools says how little you know about either their skill or hers.” Gina’s voice dripped with disdain and Marinette was glad there was someone there who understood the difference between those fools and other organizations. Especially the League of Assassins.

“You know nothing about my past other than the code name I’ve been operating under. I assure you I’m not exaggerating my importance or the probability of others coming after me. If the people who trained me realize I’m alive all hell will break loose and anyone close to me will be acceptable collateral damage.” She actually shuddered at the thought of Talia showing up in Paris. They would be begging for Hawkmoth’s return.

“I don’t understand why you would allow someone with that background near the Miraculous in the first place.” Mme. Agreste was splitting her frowns between Tris and Fu, though it seemed more confusion than anything else. It was obvious she had no idea exactly how bad of an idea it was to let Tris near them, of course neither did Fu.

“That was our decision.” Tikki was hovering protectively in front of her along Plagg. “Tris may have been forced into a life of violence but she’s still a good person at heart. She needs us and will make a good Guardian if she accepts the task.” Everyone looked at the Kwami in shock. Tris knew they wanted her to train with Fu but she hadn’t realized they were thinking that far ahead. She’d been constantly noticing how lax he was when it came to protecting them, but she hadn’t really considered taking over herself. She thought they just wanted him to humanize her again.

“Marinette has always been one of the kindest and most considerate people I’ve ever encountered. No matter what she was trained for she’s still herself. You can see that if you look at the aftermath of all her jobs.” She blinked at Chloe’s defense of her. Even knowing that her Nonna had planted the idea she was surprised Chloe had actually researched her. It was kind of weird to think about to be honest.

“And how exactly do you two know each other?” Fu’s question brought another flash of anger as she remembered the discussion she had originally planned on having with him.

“If you had ever bothered to ask me whether it was a good idea to house me with your holders you would know that I was born in Paris and lived here until my training. Chloe knew me at the time.” Fu seemed rather taken aback by that information. He obviously hadn’t considered the possibility when he decided she needed to be taught a lesson. She couldn’t really blame him but at the same time he was playing with her by forcing her into that situation and that she took offense to. “Which is why you’re going to be fully explaining anything that involves me in the future, assuming I don’t just leave you to your own devices now that you’ve unleashed this shitstorm.”

“What about the Miraculous?” Wonder Woman’s tone was slightly panicked and Tris could see her demanding the box for safekeeping. It would certainly be safer than Fu.

“That is up to the Kwami. I wouldn’t take or leave them without their consent. My life may not be the safest but I at least know how to disappear and take precautions. If that is their choice they will be safe. But again, I will not force them to go, that would make me no better than those who took me.” She saw concern on Chloe’s face moments before she marched up to Tris and pulled her into a crushing hug. She still didn’t really know how to react to that. The Agrestes shared a look before something seemed to dawn on Emilie.

“Wait… Marinette, as is Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” She winced at the reminder of her full name. It had been so long since she’d heard or been called that it didn’t even feel familiar anymore. That girl was dead, despite what Chloe had said.

AO3 Prologue Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

#maribat #marinette dupen chang #assassin mari #kidnapped au

212 notes · View notes

your-brother-crutchie · 7 years ago

Text

I Will Stab You

“You hurt her, I stab you.”

(I’m not sure if this is what you wanted but I’m very gay and the newsies are very gay and this is just what happened).

“You hurt him, I stab you.”

Hi! It’s been a while. I’m not intentionally gone, it’s just that I’m doing A-Level exams right now and I’m going to university next year so I will probably be a lot less active than I was before. It will be better once I’ve finished my exams and over the summer but once I’m at uni, I will probably need to focus all of my creative time on my work. I’m studying Theatre and Creative Writing so I really can’t guarantee that I’ll be posting a lot.

TW: Abuse, sl*t slur, and potential slightly NSFW but I don’t really think so?

As Race clambered into his crappy little Citroen C1, he couldn’t help but think what was so important about this date anyway? It wasn’t like he liked her? It wasn’t like this was ever going to go anywhere so why had he even tried? Race was gay, very gay; of that, there was truly no doubt. However, his parents were anything but supportive. It wasn’t likely that he’d ever be able to be himself, especially not until he’d left the house.

Even with his cautious tiptoeing around the subject, Race’s mamma was starting to have her own suspicions and it was more than obvious by her glares across the dinner table whenever he made up awkward lies about girls at school. As careful as he was to hide everything, it was highly possible that he could have left a magazine or two poking out from underneath his bed.

Terrified that she would tell his papà, Race had made, potentially, the stupidest decision of his entire life and found himself a real girlfriend. He’d been scrolling through his Facebook friend list, trying to find someone that he could talk to who would be believable when he saw Chloe.

Chloe was in his maths class and she’d always seemed very friendly. Everybody liked her but she wasn’t one of the popular people. She wasn’t mean or shallow or obnoxious; she was just Chloe and she was nice.

Race had spent far longer than he’d like to admit crafting that first message. Sure, they’d spoken in maths and she’d always been kind towards him but Race was still worried that this would look like it was coming out of nowhere. Instead of being honest, instead of speaking to her in class the next day to make it more realistic, Race decided to lie about needing help on the homework.

It only took a couple of weeks of Chloe coming over to his house to teach him about all of the topics that he already understood for her to realise what Race was trying to get at. She kissed him underneath the old tree in his garden and, though she blushed when she pulled away, she took his hand silently. They continued working for a little while, all of the thoughts running around Race’s head, until he looked up to see his mother smiling out of the kitchen window. Suddenly, everything was calm. Race settled into his own skin, gripping Chloe’s hand just that little bit tighter once he’d realised that he’d done it.

They’d been together for a couple of months when Chloe mentioned that they hadn’t actually been on a date, nor had they seen each other outside of school and maths homework. Race hadn’t even kissed her again. He knew that he needed to act like a good boyfriend, otherwise Chloe would leave and he would have to start this all over again to make his parents proud of him.

That was how he ended up there, stalling his stupid car on every junction as he drove to pick her up for their first actual date at an actual restaurant.

When he got there, Race came to a jerky halt on the curb beside Chloe’s house and turned the engine off. He jumped out, cursing the lack of central locking as he forgot to hold the handle out when closing the door and practically dragging his feet as he looked up at the grand colonial style house.

He’d forgotten just how much money Chloe’s family had. There were only three of them living in that, at least, four-bedroom house. It was a welcome change to eight people squeezed into Race’s tiny three-bedroom. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have his own bedroom; right now, Race didn’t even have a bedroom. His parents took the master, his nonna had another, and his three sisters shared the last one. Race and his little brother Dante slept on the sofa in the living room. It was better since his two older brothers had moved out, Race and Dante didn’t have to sleep on blankets on the floor anymore, but it was still a tight fit.

Race paused at the door, hating himself for ending up here (it wasn’t exactly fair on Chloe), but knocked all the same. It only took a few seconds for the door to swing open but the person standing there was not Chloe.

Maybe only an inch shorter than Race, the dark-haired boy was counting out money from his wallet before looking up, “Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. That should be it, keep the change. You’re looking smart tonight- wait, where’s the pizza?” He narrowed his eyes at Race, bringing the handful of money back towards his chest when he noticed that Race wasn’t the delivery boy.

Not knowing what to do, Race just started stammering as he ran a nervous hand through his messy curls and tried to think of anything to get himself out of this situation. Unfortunately, despite having a perfectly normal reason for being there, Race’s brain just stopped working, “I- uhhhh.”

“Leave him alone, Spot, he’s with me!” Calling from the top of the stairs, Chloe saved him just before Race was able to make a bigger fool of himself than usual.

Appraising him, Spot’s wary gaze turned cold immediately, “Oh, so you’re the boyfriend?” He huffed, looking him up down before turning to make sure that Chloe had darted back into her room like he’d suspected and leaning forwards, “You hurt her, I stab you.” He shrugged, as though this was something entirely ordinary, and turned his back on Race as he gulped and nodded frantically. He wandered off down the hallway and yelled over his shoulder as Chloe skipped down the stairs, “You look like a slut!”

Chloe rolled her eyes and turned to call back, “Fuck you, too!” She grinned at Race and took his hand, pulling the door shut behind them and leading him down the steps to his car. Once there she looked back at her house once, as if checking to make sure that Spot wasn’t peering out of one of the windows, before pressing him up against the passenger door.

Before she could kiss him, Race panicked and leaned his neck back slightly when she started to get closer and cleared his throat, “Uhh, what was that about?” He couldn’t help but feel strangely drawn to the boy with the dark hair and the biceps and the eyes.

Clearly trying to hide her irritation, Chloe stepped back and smiled as Race unlocked her door and went around to get in himself, “We don’t mean it. Spot might seem intimidating but he’s a good guy really.” She climbed in and grinned as she came face-to-face with Race once again. Race gulped as he reached for his seatbelt, seeing Chloe’s hand slide over the gearstick and onto his thigh.

A smirk seemed to radiate from Chloe’s eyes as she ran her hand gently up and down Race’s thigh, leaning her face closer to his and practically murmuring against his lips, “So, where are we going?” Before Race could answer, Chloe closed the gap between them and kissed him. It was just as awkward as last time, if not more since she was clearly trying to be sexy. He felt bad for her. Any other guy would jump at the chance for a girl like her yet, here she was, trying to work her magic on a boy who she would never do it for.

Race pushed her away gently, clearing his throat as he started the car and got ready to pull away, “I- uhhhh. I thought we’d go to a restaurant.”

When they were at the restaurant, it was clear that Race was miserable. He just couldn’t stop thinking about how horrible of a person he was for leading Chloe on the way he was and how she could be happy with someone who would actually want her. Race managed to fake it until they were waiting for the bill when the guilt of what he was doing finally caught up with him.

“Hey, are you okay? Race? Race!”

Jumping back to reality, Race shook his head slightly as he looked around him to figure out where he was, “Huh?” As soon as he saw that he was still at the restaurant with Chloe, something inside him sighed and he rubbed at his eyes nervously.

Chloe smiled at him and reached her hand across the table to take his in her own, “You seem down, that’s all. Are you okay?” She stroked her thumb cautiously across the back of Race’s hand.

“Oh, yeah. I’m just-“ Everything quickly became too much for Race as he looked around and saw all the other happy couples. When he looked back at Chloe, he realised that he just couldn’t do this to her, not for a moment longer, “I’m really sorry. I can’t do this.”

Quiet for only a moment, Chloe held onto Race’s fingers as though she could never let go, “What?” Although she was beginning to cut off Race’s circulation, he couldn’t bring himself to ask her to let go.

Swallowing, Race stared at their intertwined fingers, unable to look her in the eye, “I feel terrible. I thought I could do this, I thought I could but I can’t.”

Chloe’s eyebrows knitted together as she stared up at him, there was some kind of understanding there, though Race doubted she knew what he was going to say, “Can’t what?” Something in her voice told Race that he could trust her with his secret, even if she hated him for it afterwards, “Race?” There was just something about her that made Race know that she wouldn’t out him to the entire school.

“I’m gay! Okay? Jesus . . . I’m sorry- I- shit. Please don’t tell anyone, you can’t tell anyone!” Clinging to her fingers as though his life depended on it, Race finally met her eyes with his desperate plea. Relying on people could mean he ended up dead but Race didn’t know any other way to do it.

Pausing, Chloe slowly extracted her fingers from Race’s grip and brought them back down into her lap, “You’re gay?” When Race nodded, Chloe let her head fall down as she thought for a moment, “Why did you ask me out?”

He sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand as he bit back all of the feelings he’d stuffed with him in that closet, closing the door with everything still primed to tumble out, “Because- uhh. Because my dad can’t know.” His cheeks burning with shame, Race couldn’t look at her face after telling her that he never could have liked her. He used her. He was a terrible person and she should hate him.

So, why didn’t she hate him? Or at least, when Race eventually did look up, it really didn’t look like she did. Her blue eyes were filled with worry and care, despite the horrible thing he’d done to her, “Do you want to come back to my house?” When he only looked confused, Chloe rephrased her question, “Do you want to come back with me tonight?”

Almost choking, Race recoiled immediately. He shuffled awkwardly in his seat, feeling the horrible sensation of something crawling underneath his skin, “I’m sorry, uhh, I really don’t think you could prove otherwise. I’m pretty gay, I’ve tried-“

“Oh, Jesus, Race. No! My brother, I think you should talk to him. He’ll get it. Our dad, when he was around, he was really shitty to him for liking boys. I think you should talk to him.” Reaching across the table for Race’s hand once again, Chloe had nothing but kindness on her face and Race knew that, if he was anyone else, he could have really loved her.

Race scratched nervously at his forearm with his free hand, nodding tentatively as he hid from the shame by avoiding eye contact with her, “Oh. Oh, yeah. Um, sure.”

Race let Chloe drive back to her house; he didn’t really think he could stop his brain from wandering if he took the wheel. He’d explained a little more about his family and his papà and Chloe had cried for him when he couldn’t let himself. When they got back, Race let Chloe take his hand to lead him up the stairs. There was something comforting about her fingers squeezing his.

She led him into Spot’s room. An empty pizza box lay open on the bed, where Spot was completely engrossed in whatever video game he was playing, “Spot?”

Clearly distracted, Spot mumbled a quick, “hmm,” without looking up from his game. Race would have thought it was some kind of shooter game, both from the Spot that he met at the door and also the dedication in his face. However, the Animal Crossing music was iconic and forever popping into his head at inopportune moments.

Chloe rolled her eyes, though a fond smile lit her movements, “Can you talk? Race needs advice.” As Chloe took a step forward and into Spot’s room, Race was happy to remain hugging the doorframe awkwardly.

Finally looking up from his game, Spot froze. He held an incredulous look on his face with one side of his mouth pulled up into a sneer, ��I’m not telling you how to fuck my sister. Just stick it in, you’ll figure it out.”

Immediately twisting her soft expression into disgust at Spot’s vulgar comment, Chloe punched him in the shoulder, “Spot, no! What the hell? We’re not together, anymore.” Clearly, she had a strong punch because he clutched his arm and looked up at her until hearing what she’d said.

Spot’s face hardened automatically as he turned to where Race was busy playing with the hem of his shirt in the doorway, “What did he do?” He looked about ready to jump Race where he stood, so the frailer boy was just happy that his little sister stood in between them.

“Nothing! It’s not Race’s fault. He’s explained and I’m not angry.” When Spot only scoffed and went to turn back to his game, Chloe let out a frustrated huff and took Race’s arm, pulling him into the room, “Do you want me to tell him?” Race nodded, nervousness flowing off his every movement as she turned to tell Spot why they were there, “Race is gay and his dad isn’t a good person.”

Freezing once again, Spot finally muted his game and put the controller down. He turned to look at the two of them, looking Race over again but with entirely different eyes. Race was shaking and he no doubt looked terrified, “C’mere.” His tone was entirely different, too. He sounded soft, like he cared. Spot patted the duvet and pointed his head towards the bed.

Race tentatively took a couple of steps, before sitting himself down on the very edge of the bed, as far from Spot as he could possibly get.

“You certain?” When Race nodded, Spot nodded, too. He turned his body so that he could face Race better, “Do you want to come out?” These were all weird questions but Race knew that they were probably important. He shook his head and Spot looked at him with pity behind his eyes. It made Race want to run, “Is that just because you’re scared of him?”

This time, Race nodded and he could hear Chloe start to cry once again. When she put a hand on his shoulder, he couldn’t stop himself from flinching, but he still reached up to hold onto her fingers.

Spot sighed, looking away for a moment before turning back to him, “Will he kick you out?” To this, Race shrugged. He knew that there were far worse things that his father could do to him, “Will he hit you?” Race paused for a moment, feeling Chloe squeeze his fingers as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Eventually, he nodded.

Before speaking again, Spot looked over Race’s shoulder at Chloe and Race knew what was coming next, “Does he hit you?”

This was the part that he hadn’t told Chloe, this was the part that he hadn’t told anybody. Race hadn’t told his friends or his mamma or his older brothers or even his twin sister. How could he? Hi, yeah, every night Papà beats the shit out of me before I go to bed. That would go down well.

Turning to look up at Chloe, Race saw the tears tearing their way down her face and knew that he’d made a mistake. How could he ever say it in front of her? She loved him, even after he’d told her the horrible thing that he’d done to her, and Race had never had a lot of experience with being loved.

Race shut his eyes again, grounded himself in the feeling of Chloe’s fingers in his own, and breathed. He nodded.

“Do you have anywhere else you can go?” Spot reached across the bed and took Race’s free hand, stopping him twisting the bedsheets so tightly that he was cutting off the blood circulation to the tips of his fingers. When Race shook his head, Spot shuffled further towards him and held his hand in both of his own, “You can stay with us, you know? Our mum won’t mind, she’s a social worker. In fact, if she knew, she’d never let you stay there.”

Race finally looked up at Spot properly, staring into his brown eyes and seeing that all of the scary Spot he’d seen had melted away. Just another boy who’d been through it all sat in front of him, trying to help. With that one moment, the door holding everything inside burst open and Race finally allowed himself to be vulnerable. Everything was out there and everything was free and tears rolled down Race’s cheeks like they would never stop.

Letting Race’s hand go, Spot hugged him to his chest and stroked his hair as his sobs only continued to grow.

When they went to Spot and Chloe’s mother, Race finally felt like things were going to go his way. He hated leaving his siblings but his papà loved them and he knew that he’d never lay a hand on any of them.

It had been a few months and, technically, Race was a Ward of the State, but Allison had pulled a few strings and he lived with Spot and Chloe permanently.

Race was playing video games in the living room with Spot when it finally happened. They’d become very close since Race had moved in and Race sat with his legs over Spot’s. When Spot beat him, as he usually did, Race threw his hands up in the air and tossed his controller onto the other sofa, “You cheated!”

Laughing, Spot dropped his controller down beside him and rested his hands over Race’s legs, “How?” He challenged Race, not blinking or dropping eye contact for even a second as he carefully raised one eyebrow.

“I don’t know, you just did!” Spot only laughed more as Race pushed at him, grinning as he watched the dark-haired boy’s eyes close as his entire body shook with him. Race couldn’t help but notice just how nice Spot’s laugh was. He’d been noticing small things like that for a while; like how Spot would tug at his sleeves or wrap his arms around himself when he thought no one was looking.

When he finally composed himself, Race could have been imagining it but it felt like, Spot’s eyes seemed to rest on his lips. Race’s breath caught in his throat as he stared nervously up at Spot, feeling himself leaning forwards without any control over it.

“Hello, boys. Good day?” Allison walked into the living, breaking whatever moment had just almost happened. They both nodded up at her, grinning as she set her bag down on the coffee table. When she looked up and saw the tv, though, Allison sighed, “Are you playing that game again? Scott, I told you to work on your personal statement. You’re going to university next year.”

As Spot mumbled a quiet, “yes, Mum,” Allison leaned down to kiss his forehead and ruffled Race’s hair before she went into the kitchen.

They both watched the door she’d left from for a moment. Spot eventually laughed nervously as Race blushed and nudged his arm against Spot’s slightly in reassurance. They still hadn’t looked at each other, but Spot somehow found Race’s hand and held it carefully, as though it was something precious.

When they eventually did look up at each other, Race held his breath again. This time, there was no escaping the look in Spot’s eyes. Nothing stopped them and Spot leaned in, kissing Race carefully. It was really nice. Spot’s grip on his cheek was gentle and kind and his thumb traced carefully over his cheekbone every so often. Race had never kissed a boy before and it was really good.

They pulled away just in time to see Chloe walking past them to the kitchen. A smug smile filled every inch of her face as she punched Spot on the way past, “If you hurt him, I’ll stab you.”

#newsies #newsies fanfiction #fics #rowan writes #rowan writes sprace #sprace #spot/race #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #angst

153 notes · View notes