#thought about her being sacrificed by her parents and poor damn girl good lord
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Stauber beings with horrifying and/or sad twists
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blackmissfrizzle · 5 years ago
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Worth It (The Prelude)
Worth It- Pt 1
Summary: The reader meets Marcel for the first time. This a prelude for the Worth It series.
Characters: Marcel x black!reader
A/N: I couldn’t get out of my head how the reader and Marcel first met, so I just had to write it. I think I love this series the most. I love writing for Marcel and I’ happy y’all are enjoying it too. I already got ideas for Part 3 so hopefully it’ll come out this week.
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“Baby girl, you bet not be doing any magic in that shop of yours. Just sell your herbs and elixirs and go on about your day.” Your dad warned you for the fifth time today.
When you returned home yesterday, you learned that Marcel had forbidden the witches from doing any magic or there would be deadly consequences. Poor Ophelia didn’t believe him, and she paid for it with her life. Ever since then, the witches have been scared.
Hence, your parents nagging you about not using your powers. Naturally, you had a rebellious spirit and they knew that you would have no problem testing Marcel.
“Daddy, I promise.” You lied through your teeth. It may not be today, tomorrow, or anytime soon, but you knew eventually you’ll give into using your powers.
Before grabbing your keys, you kissed your mom and dad goodbye. “Be careful and no magic!” You heard right before the doors closed on them.
“Oh wee, chile, I swear you’re a miracle worker,” Mrs. Jackson smiled as she wriggled her fingers around.
Laughing at the older woman, you handed her the mix of thunder god vine and eucalyptus. “No ma’am, I’m not. I just know what to mix to help that arthritis of yours.”
She hugged you and rocked you back and forth. “Either way, I don’t feel any pain and can move my fingers.” Mrs. Jackson checked her watch and quickly let go of you. “Oh, look at the time. I gotta go. Paula’s bringing my grandbaby over. Take care of yourself Y/N.”
“I will and remember apply the ointment twice a day!” You called out to her before she was out the door.
After, Mrs. Jackson you had a steady flow of customers until towards the end of the day. It was so slow you decided to close the shop early and head to Rousseau’s to have a drink with your sister. However, your new set of customers thwarted your plans.
“Took you long enough to show up,” you told Marcel and his gang.
“You were getting busy. Didn’t want the tourists to see all the commotion.”
Clasping your hands together and bashing your eyelashes, you replied with faux gratefulness, “Oh my god, how sweet.”
He smiled at your sarcasm, revealing a blinding smile. It was the type of smile that made girls swoon and weak in the knees. Too bad he was dick.
“You’re funny, but that’s not going to save you. I’m sure that the other witches told you that there is absolutely no magic to be done.”
Walking to where he was, you slapped his hand away from touching your herbs. His friends were about to attack you, but he held up his hand to stop them. “I know and I really don’t care about your stupid ass rules. If someone is in need, I’m helping them.”
Marcel looked at you curiously. Most of the witches he knows are only out for themselves and their coven. “So, who was worth your life?”
“Mrs. Jackson. She’s a seamstress and her granddaughter is deaf, so she uses ASL to communicate with her. But unfortunately, for Mrs. Jackson she’s has really bad arthritis, so I give her an ointment, but the pain relief spell helps a lot too; she doesn’t have to come here as often if I perform the spell. So, if you’re gonna kill me because I helped a sweet old lady keep her livelihood and talk to her only grandchild so be it. You’re the one that’ll have to live with that on your conscious, not me.” You knelt down before him to make the job easier for him.  The other witches may live a life with fear, but you weren’t.
Looking at his friends, he wordlessly told them to leave your shop and they reluctantly obeyed. Diego and Thierry didn’t trust witches at all, and they didn’t want to leave Marcel alone with you, but they had no choice. Once his friends left, Marcel knelt down in front of you and lifted your chin, so your eyes could meet his brown ones. “You’re telling me that you cast a spell on a woman that makes her come to your shop less often. Doesn’t that make you lose money?”
“Its not about the money. Its about helping the people of New Orleans, specifically the brown ones. I can’t cure cancer, but I can lessen the pain and that’s more than our government is doing. Its more than you’re doing. You call yourself King of the Quarter, but who are you helping specifically? The vampires? Because last time I checked there’s more humans than vamps.” Self-preservation obviously wasn’t an attribute you had to be speaking to Marcel like this. Easily he could wrap his hands or sink his fangs into your neck, sucking the life out of you.
“Have dinner with me.” Marcel offered you. It’d been so long, since he’s been genuinely intrigued by a woman. Yeah, he’s slept with other women, but this was the first time in a long time he wanted to get to know a woman. If he wanted to be honest with himself, he knew he wanted to know more about you as soon as he laid his eyes on you. Even though, you greeted him with an attitude he knew there was a kind spirit in you.
Marcel was staring you down and it was beginning to be too much. His gaze was stirring things up that shouldn’t be stirred up at all. He was a vampire, you’re a witch, there should be no attraction at all, but damn it he had you interested.
To a degree you knew Marcel was good. He saved Davina Claire from being sacrificed during that Harvest Festival, which your momma called a bunch of nonsense and that’s why she don’t fool with those white witches. “They always wanna sacrifice somebody. Unless it’s the good Lord telling me to, which he ain’t done since Abraham, I ain’t killing nobody,” she would always say.
You took a good look at Marcel to assess if he had any ill-intentions towards you. He seemed that he didn’t, but you had to make sure. “Like eat dinner with you or be dinner for you?”
He laughed at you, big time. Your inflection, the look on your face, and body movements were hilarious. Marcel knew for sure he had to get to know you.
“Nigga, I’m serious! I know I look like a snack and all, but that’s not the way I prefer to be eaten.”
Marcel tongue darted out across his lips, which made you zero in on them. They were so damn kissable, that you had to stop yourself from leaning in once Marcel began talking again. “No, we’ll eat a dinner and I much rather have you for dessert anyway.” He said suggestively, licking his lips again.
Lips were moving, but no words were coming out. You must’ve looked like an idiot, but Marcel didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable being struck speechless for the first time during this encounter.
Lifting you to your feet, Marcel got within a tenth of a inch of your ear and whispered, “I‘ll pick you up at 8,” and just like that he left leaving you stunned.
Quickly, you pulled out your phone to text your sister.
YOU: Change of plans. Meet me at my house. I have a date!
Bianca stood in front you, working here magic on your face. She was the best makeup artist in the state, and you got all her services for free and you earned it too; you were always her test subject.
“And he ain’t even ask you? Just told you what time he’ll pick you up without asking where you live.” She asked, waving the powder brush. In response, you shook your head yes and she kept going. “Whew, that’s some big dick energy!”
“I know, right?! If he hadn’t zoomed off, I probably would’ve given him the panties right then and there.” It was true. Marcel had a hold on you and you were sure you’d lose all common sense around him.
“I heard sex with a vamp is top tier. I’ve been trying to get at Diego, but he ain’t having it.” Bianca’s had a crush on Diego as long as he’s been in New Orleans and at first he was interested until he found out she was a witch.
“He’s just scared that’s all. Maybe he’ll come around.”
Bianca was applying the finishing touches when she went on a rant. “That’s what I told that nappy-headed ass nigga! I told him stop being scary because the only thing that’s gonna put a spell on him is this pussy!” She stuck her tongue out like her idol, Cardi B and you joined in with her laughter.
“Oh, look at my big sis, looking all fine.” Turning you around to face the mirror, Bianca revealed her handiwork. She kept your face to a light beat, going for the natural look, highlighting your best features.
Shooting out of your seat, you hugged her thanking her profusely. “Girl, ain’t no problem. You know it ain’t hard to make you look beautiful. Now turn Marcel back to the dark side.” You furrowed your eyebrows at her, you had no idea what she was talking about. She leaned into you and whispered like you weren’t in the privacy of your home. “He’s known for dating white girls. Rumor has it he dated Rebekah Mikaelson back in the day.”
The knock on the door stopped you from asking anymore questions. Damn a nigga for being on time.
On the other side of the door, stood a delicious looking Marcel Gerard with a bouquet of Swamp Azaleas. “I heard these are your favorites,” he handed you the flowers, but Bianca took them instead.
“They are. Now, don’t have her back until the sun is up. Good night!” She pushed you out the door so hard that you stumbled into Marcel’s embrace and god did he smell good and felt even better.
Feeling like you were overstaying your welcome in his arms, you tried to pull away, but he pulled you back. “No, I like how you feel in my arms.” For a while, Marcel just held you until you reminded him you would like to go on the date and for the first time you noticed a nervous smile from him. “Sorry, I just get caught up in you,” he stated, before he escorted you down to his car.
--
Thank god, Marcel didn’t take you to an overpriced date. He could tell that you enjoyed the simpler things in life and took you to a local restaurant. It required you to dress nicely, but not like if you were dining at a Michelin star restaurant.
The conversation never got dull and he never got insulted by the jokes you cracked about him unlike some of your previous dates. What you truly bonded over was your love for New Orleans. There was no place like NOLA and even if you visited other cities, states, and countries, New Orleans would always be your number one love. It was the same way for Marcel.
The only thing you disagreed on was how to run the city, but it wasn’t a disrespectful debate. He even challenged your thoughts by bringing up that you weren’t heavily involved with the coven, so why fight for them so hard. The man was good, but you couldn’t let him know that.
Dinner was coming to an end and you couldn’t help but think about what Bianca said about Marcel dating white women. You knew she didn’t mean it as malicious, but it was causing doubts in your head. If it was true, then you were shit out of luck because you were far from his usual dates.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” His voice pulled you from your thoughts.
“Nothing. What makes you say that?”
“Your eyes.” He pointed to your irises, holding out his forkful of dessert for you to taste. The mix of warm, gooey brownies with ice cream, whipped cream, walnuts, and chocolate syrup had you moaning and rocking back and forth in happiness. “That right there is what I’m talking about. Your eyes are so expressive you can’t hide what you’re feeling. That’s why I knew you would go on a date with me, you felt the same attraction I did. So, I’ll ask one more time, what’s going on in that head of yours.” This time you could tell by his tone that a nothing wouldn’t suffice.
“Do you typically date black girls?” The words were so jumbled together that Marcel almost didn’t catch the question.
A slow smile crept on his face once it did register and he gripped your hand and rubbed small circles into it. “Thinking back on it, my more recent partners have been white, but don’t let it get twisted, I will always love black women.”
Satisfied with his answer, you let the topic go. Easily, y’all finished dessert and then went out to walk down Bourbon street. Marcel let you pulled him into dancing when you heard the familiar sounds of Zydeco. He kept up even when they switched up to bounce music and you began twerking on him.
Unfortunately, the night had to come to the end. Marcel walked you back to your front door and you both just stood there not wanting to end the date. “Want to come inside?”
“I can’t,” he replied. Your mood immediately saddens at the rejection and you turned the doorknob to go inside, but Marcel closed it. “You and these damn eyes,” he murmured. “Its not that I don’t want to come inside. Its that you have work in the morning and we both know if I come inside, you won’t get any sleep.”
“Oh,” you deeply sighed at his explanation. Now you had to try to get him inside somehow.
“Its not happening, so get those dirty thoughts out of your mind.” He smirked at you, loving how emotive you were. “But if you let me, I can kiss you.”
Eagerly, you shook your head yes and he chuckled at you. Marcel grabbed the back of your neck, bringing you closer. His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes repeatedly, just making the tension that much more intense. He finally descended his lips onto yours, releasing you from that torture and bringing you into bliss. His lips were softer than you imagined, his beard tickled your face, but you loved it.
Remembering that you needed to breath, Marcel reluctantly pulled away with a small bite to your bottom lip. Your eyes fluttered opened and there was no denying the lust in them. Marcel leaned his forehead against yours and whispered into your ear, “You’re going to ruin me.”
You weren’t sure if he was talking to himself or you, but you responded either way. “I’ll be worth it,” and you went inside leaving both you and Marcel frustrated.
Tags: @twistedcharismaaa @l-auteuse @nightgirl250 @cocooned-butterfly @thickemadame @artsninspo @titty-teetee
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