#except what they mainly do is search for jobs for me or find apartments and apply for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hotwings0203 · 3 years

Note

as ur irl bestie i am cashing in my favor and am asking- no begging for a dilf damon fic pls <3

😑fine fineee I guess I can take a quick break from writing BNHA stuff for you🙄

CW: NSFW, Damon Albarn being an a-hole, manipulation, gaslighting, language minor stuff like that

The studio itself was pretty spacious, you couldn't lie. As much as you loathed to give this cursed group any more credit, you were hard-pressed to remember the last time you´d been called into such a professional recording booth. You were used to dingy atmospheres, crumbling walls, stained carpet, and even cramped garages at times. It felt like your years of meticulously swaying your hand back and forth on the rosin and tuning your strings until they damn near popped were slowly going down the drain, lost in spaces of screaming adolescent boys and shady market agents. The streets of London were unforgiving for a young musician like you, no room to turn to since others were exactly in the same position as you.

It was by pure coincidence that the day you had played for a local cafe for a small commission, Graham fucking Coxon was sitting in the back of the run-down joint, sipping a murky glass of Bourbon.

You didn't notice him at first, of course. You had simply let the music in your mind travel from your head down to your arms, and allowed it to move through your fingertips to your bow. The serene melody that sang through the air had turned his head to face you, the shitty drink in his hand stopped halfway to his mouth.

Your solo was only a couple of minutes, but the second you were done and packing your bags to head out, the brunette made a beeline for you, blocking your exit.

¨Uh, can I help you?¨ You cock your head and shift your violin case.

¨Yes, you can actually. Listen, I know this is gonna sound a bit straightforward, but I really liked your piece. Did you compose it yourself?¨ He sounds quiet and sounds nervous, with him barely looking you in the eyes.

¨Yeah, I did!¨ You can´t help but beam-it took you several days just to perfect a few meager lines, but in the end you were content with the piece.

¨Wow...that's serious talent right there,¨ He opens the door for you, and you nod before you head out, him trailing behind you as he leaves with you.

¨You make a good amount of money doing small jobs like this?¨ His voice is nasally and low, but with a slightly higher pitch than your typical London accent.

At this, you squint your eyes a bit and turn your head at him. It was nice of him to be interested in your work, but for someone you don't personally know, the idea of talking about your small gigs that merited little to no money was not something you were fond of.

He senses your hesitancy and immediately withdraws. ¨I´m sorry, that was probably rude of me to be so blunt about it. Actually, I don´t think I´ve properly introduced myself.¨ He stops to face you, and you do the same.

¨I´m Graham Coxon. You may or may not have heard of me, but I can assure you that I too enjoy music, as an understatement.¨ He extends a calloused hand and smiles a little bit, adjusting the blocky glasses on his face.

Graham...Coxon? Graham as in....oh, holy shit.

¨No way.¨

¨Er...unfortunately, yes way.¨ His soft voice lilts as he holds back a laugh, and you gape at him.

¨Oh my god!¨ You drop your violin case in the excitement of eagerly returning his handshake. ¨You-you're from Blur! I know you!¨

¨Was from Blur, and ´careful now, don´t wanna ruin your instrument. But listen, I´m kind of in a bind here so I´ll get to the chase. We´re working on a few chords here and there back at the studio, and I´ve been on the lookout for a while for someone who fits our tune. ´Thing is, the deadline for submitting our song is comin´ up fast, so we only have a couple weeks left.¨

You raise your eyebrows, heart pounding in your chest as you listen to his proposition.

¨So I´m thinking, you sound pretty good, it's exactly what we need to fill in our bridge. I´d love it if you came in and played a tune for us. If we like you and you´re cool with it, you could feature on our song.¨

It feels surreal. Were you hearing right? Graham Coxon from Blur asking you to play on his song? This had to be a prank.

¨Ẅait, but you've only heard me once, what if my sound doesn't match what you're actually looking for?¨ You stammer, palms clammy as you wipe them off on your trousers.

¨Well, that's what a rehearsal session is for, lovely,¨ He chuckles nervously and slides his slightly foggy glasses up his nose. ¨So, you wanna give it a go?¨

You think for a moment, biting your lower lip. There wasn't exactly anything stopping you now, was there? I mean, sure, the prospect of playing in front of one of UK's most famous bands was daunting, but this was your chance to finally be recognized!

Taking a deep breath, you pick up your fallen case and nod. ¨Alright, I´m in. When you do wanna meet up?¨

Graham visibility deflates in relief, letting out a shaky exhale. ¨Great. I'll text you the time and place, yeah? The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up, so we´ll be in contact soon.¨

You both exchange numbers, your phone tingling in your hand long after you bid farewell and drive home in a buzz.

When you finally get home to your apartment, you throw your keys onto the counter and flop down onto the mattress. What a fucking day.

So many thoughts bounce around in your addled head. You want to do well, but obviously you don't have their kind of experience in the industry. Should you play more in tune with their song, or continue with your own sound? An idea pops into your head amidst your lunch, a few hours later. Why not just do some more research on the band themselves? Then you'd know exactly what kind of music they're looking for.

The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up.

Oh yeah, who else was in the band? It's not like you didn't know who Blur was at their peak, but you paid more attention to their music rather than their faces. Truthfully, you never really basked in tabloids and newspapers purring about the next big scandal, or the top dogs of Britain´s industry when that stuff was relevant.

You abandon your pathetic sandwich and make your way to your laptop, sliding into a chair and getting down to business. After a few quick searches, you pull up a couple tabs around the name Blur.

Graham Coxon- Recovering alcoholic. Big fight with Damon Albarn.

Alex James- Cute boy turned conservative. Classic case.

Dave Rowntree- Mainly untouched. Became a successful lawyer. Good for him.

Damon Albarn- A fucking mess.

Puffing up your cheeks and putting your hands behind your head, you lean back in your chair. Good god, this man is a wreck. Headlines from decades ago swim in and out of your eyes, loud, obnoxious neon prints of Justine and Damon broken up again? Suede claps back!, or Will the Blur Brothers ever come back to each other? Find out first-hand from Coxon himself!, and worst of all, Albarn relapses again, Damon Albarn from Blur goes head-to-head with Liam and Noel-news flash, the brothers win!

You think you see something about him and a potential wife and child, and that's when you decide it's time to sleep.

After all, there's no point in getting caught up in any of their backstories.You were just there to play a solo and get out. Nosing around in their lives was more trouble than what it was worth, anyways.

Which is exactly what you kept trying to tell yourself as you walked into the modern studio two weeks later, its grey soundproof walls and white floor screaming fancy and rich to you. And fancy and rich didn't come without grit and experience, which you had none of. As if to emphasize your inexperience, you went into the wrong halls twice before you exasperatedly checked your messages with Graham and saw that no, it wasn´t room 311, it was room 113.

Finally, finally, you came across your designated room. The mahogany door was closed, and you placed a hand on the silver knob. You could faintly hear the sounds of a guitar being played from the inside, and it was curiosity above everything else that compelled you to push it open.

From behind the clear window that separated the booth from the recording area, you see them. Graham, Damon, and other men you don't recognize are all in the midst of the song, the same song Graham had texted you the PDF of for the violin notes. You sheepishly take a few steps forward and clear your throat to catch the attention of a bald man leaning back against his chair right in front of the glass. He turns around and you give a weak little wave, clutching your case in the other hand.

¨Hey, I´m here for-¨

¨-Yeah, yeah, Graham told me all about you. Go on ahead and join in, they just started.¨ He pulls a toothpick out from between his lips and gestures to the door of the divider.

You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you make your way through the second door, and the second you step inside meekly, Damon and Graham´s eyes are on you.

Graham continues to play the guitar, only lighting up his eyes and giving you an encouraging nod when you step in, and the other two men on bass and saxophone also give a quick smile in greeting. And Damon…well.

Damon barely acknowledges you.

He continues to sing and stare straight ahead at the wall in front of him as if there's an interesting scene being played out on the grey paint.

You´re unsure of whether to catch his attention and give a proper greeting, but you decide not to as it would interfere with the song. So instead, you quickly grab a nearby chair and stand and set up your rosin and papers.

Your timing is perfect; the bridge is about to come up. Just to be certain, you look up from your poised position and catch the eyes of most everyone except for Damon´s. They all give you a quick thumbs up or an expectant look for your confirmation of playing.

And then, it comes. Damon stops singing, and your cue to sweep your bow across the horse hairs of your strings comes.

Melodious, whole, fulfilling, it was. Graham´s guitar chords harmonized with the tones of your violin, and music that you´ve never dreamed of creating was made by your hands exceptionally.

Everyone was in awe of your raw talent, from the way their gazes were rapt onto your bow, moving back and forth,staying still in some highs and whittling away at the lows. You even thought you saw the producer from inside the booth turn his head towards you from the corner of your eye, but you couldn´ be sure.

Everyone except Damon Albarn.

The song ended a minute later with the signal of a fading out bass, and then there was silence.

¨Right on with that tune.. ´Thought we'd be fucked ova´ if we didn't find someone to take that melody.¨ The bassist with long shaggy hair grinned and you returned one back.

¨Yeah, I was kind of hesitant when Graham ´ere told us he found one to take this position on, but I'm pleased.¨ The saxophone player scratched his chin and hummed his agreement. You felt relief.

Until he spoke.

¨Is this your first time playing?¨

You look incredulously over at him, looking straight on at his face. Sandy hair, lines on his cheeks, slight scruff around his chin, he looked older than his online pictures.

¨Uhh, no?¨ You laugh a little, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. ¨If I was, I doubt Graham would think I´m good enough to play with you guys.¨

¨I don't think Graham is the only one who needs to think that.¨ Everyone shifts uncomfortably, looking nervously from Damon to you, and Graham tugs his collar as if the temperature had gone up.

But nonetheless, you don't back down.

¨Oh yeah? How so?¨

¨You played the G-string too high,¨ He deadpans, looking utterly bored amidst oceanic hues.

¨What?¨ You flip your music pages a couple of times until you find the page where you played that part. ¨No I didn´t, I was right on tune-do you even know how to play the violin?¨

¨No,¨ he smirks, and with your blood boiling steadily you open your mouth to argue, but thankfully Graham butts in.

¨Damon, don´t be a prick, she played fine. Unlike you, who fucked up on the 5th verse.¨

The man in question lazily stretches his arms above his head, causing his white tee to rise a few inches over his belly button. You can´t help but glance at the skin-it's smooth, cleanly chiseled with part of his v-line showing, a happy trail rising from the juncture.

¨Oi, sweetheart, eyes up here.¨

You snap your gaze back to his smug face, cheeks burning.

¨I didn´t-¨

¨Sure you didn´t. Just like how I didn't mess up on the 5th verse, and how you didn't ruin the song with your shitty violin, yeah?¨ He simpers, and you almost rise out of your seat to snarl at him before Graham jumps in between you two, scolding a very inappropriately-grinning Damon.

You get up out of your chair and huff, shoving your belongings back into your bag as everyone else packs up, the men bickering and playfully throwing shit at each other.

The producer even congratulates you on your successful first day, and everyone cheers and pounds you on your back, your hair falling in your face and gracefully hiding your 120k watt smile.

Damon shoulders right past you, knocking your case right out of your hands. You grapple with it for a second before it hits the ground, and when it does you whip around and shoot him an icy glare.

He's not even looking at you, he's already out the door.

It's quiet for a moment.

¨Well, there he goes again being a dickhead. Classic Damon, you got.¨ The saxophone player points to the leaving blond and grins sheepishly at you.

¨What's his problem?¨ You ask in disgust, shaking your head as you join the rest of the boys leaving.

¨Uh, well...¨ Graham scratches the back of his head and avoids looking at you. ¨He's always been kind of like that, y´know, so don't take it too personally, but between just us four, his wife´s been on his arse for a bit about um...some...domestic affairs.¨ He finishes lamely, and the other two men guffaw at your raised eyebrow.

You don't have a chance to press further as to ask what domestic affairs, exactly because a loud clap of thunder shakes you all to your cores as you step outside.

¨Aw, come on!¨ You stamp your foot and hold out your hand for confirmation of the raindrops about to drop on you all. ¨I didn't know it was gonna rain today,¨ you grumble.

Graham squints up at the sky and wipes some droplets off his blurred glasses, covering his head with his jacket hood as he begins walking to the parking garage. ¨I´ll see you lot in about a week, yeah? Just keep practicing, good rehearsal we had today!¨ He waves his hand and dashes off.

¨Good job on your first day, Y/N. Fancy the weather on your walk back for us!¨ The sax and bass player bid farewell and also do a sprint to their respective cars, splashing through the puddles and sending muddy water on your pants.

¨Urgh!¨ You raise your hands to try and protect your bottoms but to no avail- London's sewage strikes again.

Sighing in defeat, you walk through the rain towards your car, succumbing to the grimy walk. Unfortunately you didn't think to use the parking garage due to high nerves when you first came in.

You walk for about 5 minutes, the rain drenching your hair and clothes and chilling you to your bones.

Could this day get any more annoying?

Oh, but you should´ve known that it could.

Because right at that moment, a black limo swerves right next to you on the sidewalk, sending a massive wave of gutter water right your way.

You swear loudly and jump back, barely managing to avoid the remnants of the sewage tsunami crossing your feet.

Looking up wildly at the offensive vehicle, you make a fist and flip the window off, your lip curled up into a snarl.

The obsidian glass rolls down.

¨Well that's not very nice, is it? Nasty weather we got going on right now, careful it doesn't get on your clothes.¨

Oh.

¨It's you,¨ you monotone, less than pleased to see his salacious grin at your predicament-which was being soaked to your undergarments in brown muddy water, your hair clinging to your face and your violin case lugging down towards the ground, its weight proving mutiny against you today of all days.

¨In the flesh,¨ Damon beams, and you scowl at his cheery attitude.

¨You almost drowned me, asshole,¨ You turn your nose up in scorn, and he chuckles in his baritone voice.

¨Nah, cant´ve love, I can't drive,¨ he clicks his tongue and jerks his thumb to the seat in front of him, where you assume his chauffeur is.

¨Oh, so it was under your orders that your poor driver practically waterboarded me?¨ ¨Well, yeah, I mean what else do you expect me to do when I see a pretty lady walking so harmlessly in the rain?¨ Your voice catches in your throat for a second from his words and the way his glacial eyes twinkle for a moment, but then he erupts in dry chuckles at your demeanor and you throttle your hesitancy at speaking.

¨Shut up, you're absolutely vile, y´know that?¨ ¨So I´ve been told, but to be honest sweetheart, I´d rather hear that in bed, where I´m used to hearing it. Now are you going to get in or shall I talk about my sexual prowess with you the rest of the afternoon?¨ He opens his door from the inside and mockingly winks at you.

You feign a gag, but still decide to jump in the spacious limo when a flash of lightning lights up the sky.

He scoots back to give you space to sit and adjust your violin case on the seats in front of you, but just as you´re about to close the door, he leans in right next to you and reaches behind you to pull it shut himself.

You´re caught still as he draws close, you´re extended hand frozen in midair as his arm against your back flexes and stiffens with it pulling the door. You can feel his breath against your neck as he exhales, can feel some of his hair tickling against your ear and cheek. You hold your breath, not daring to move lest you accidentally brush up against his proximity.

The loud slam of the door causes you to jump, and he laughs a little at that, signaling his driver to go.

You don't quite face him, your gaze down in your lap as his entire body is facing you, still stuck in its position when he was closing the car door.

¨Not nervous, are you?¨ He murmurs in your ear, and you can´t help it when your whole body shivers at feeling the rumble in his gravelly voice.

¨N-no, I´m not. Do you have to be so close?¨ You stammer, barely giving him a sideways glance which eggs him on, much to your displeasure.

¨Not really. But if you´re not nervous, then it shouldn't be a problem, right?¨ He says quietly and leans around to catch your eye.

Before you can lose your nerve and jump out of the car, you snap at him. ¨You just don´t quit, do you?¨

He finally relents and the side of his pink lips lift lazily as he stretches his knees out and practically manspreads across the expanse of three seats. ¨Nope. Not that you really were against it though, ´could feel your heart pounding a mile a minute sweetheart. Trust me, I´m used to making girls nervous, I would know.¨

You sneer at him. ¨Don´t call me sweetheart, and yeah, I was nervous about getting some disease-ridden prick like you getting close to me. God knows how many STD´s you've contracted from bedding some poor groupies.¨

¨Only one way to find out, right love?¨ He leans his head up to the car ceiling and lets his tousled golden hair flop back, his jawline accentuated by the cream-colored seats contrasting with his tan skin.

You catch yourself staring, and shake your head quickly.

¨You must´ve been more hopped up on heroine than I thought if you think I´d ever fuck a self-absorbed, narcissitic bastard like you.¨

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, but once they do your eyes widen and you clap a hand over your mouth in horror.

Damon lifts his head and slowly turns to face you, his mouth set in a thin line.

¨A self-absorbed, narcissistic bastard whose limo you're riding in, need I remind you, so I can´t be all that bad. ´Can't say I haven't heard any of that before love, but most girls who say that end up in my bed anyways.¨

You open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off.

¨Although, ´hopped up on heroin´ is a new one. Just exactly how much research have you done about me so far?¨

Your rebuttal dies in your throat. You were caught.

Your ears burn and your face flushes as you bite your lip in embarrassment. Maybe you went too far, and on top of that you let it slip that you knew about him beforehand.

But you refuse to kowtow in humiliation to this idiot, so you think quickly.

¨I doubt you´ve got your head that far up your ass to disregard how half the world was tuning into your personal life when Blur was big, Damon.¨

He looks unimpressed with your excuse, but before he can open his mouth to question you further, you hurry up with another save.

¨Also, where are we going? You never asked me where my car was.¨

Bingo His eyes brighten and he shouts at the driver, harping on about him being a brain-dead idiot for driving in circles the past 10 minutes.

What a save.

*******************

The moment you step into the booth next week, a drumstick is lobbed at you from seemingly nowhere. You yelp and hold your case up, blocking the weapon as it bounces off your makeshift shield. You bring the case down and shoot a glare towards the only man you know capable of acting so childishly at his grown age.

But he´s already scrolling through his phone, looking for a measure to start from.

¨You´re late.¨

¨Hardly,¨ you mutter, glancing at the clock on the wall. Two minutes past shouldn´t be an excuse for having a drumstick pick out your eye.

¨Good to see you again, Y/N,¨ Graham pipes up softly, sending you an apologetic glance from Damon to you and you stick out your tongue in faux annoyance.

The other two members of your group greet you as well, and you all begin practice. Notes begin harmonizing together, voice and sound coinciding to make music you´ve swayed your hips and nodded your head to on blue nights.

It´s a hot day, humidity clinging to your skin akin to the perspiration hanging off your forehead, and halfway through the song you decide to take off your sweater. You´re wearing a white tank top underneath, nothing too revealing save for the slight dip in the V-neck, but you couldn't care less about modesty at the moment when your fingers were literally slipping in their grasp on your sweat-slicked bow.

During a quick break in your part of the song, you slip off your sweater and fan yourself out. It feels good, but you feel a pair of eyes staring at you. Following the laser gaze, you turn your head to face Damon, but he´s nose-deep in the lyrics sheet, warbling about a broken love or friendship.

Huh, must´ve been imagining it.

Your solo comes up, and you prepare yourself for tackling the notes to your best ability, keeping up with Graham´s rapid guitar pace. Sweat continues to build on everyone´s vicinity when the rapid movement of arms waving around their own instrument causes more body heat to suffocate you all.

Miraculously, the song finishes, and you collapse in your seat like the rest of the men, panting and wiping slick off your foreheads. You reach for a bottle of water on the floor and unscrew the lid, grimacing at its lukewarm temperature but drinking it nonetheless.

For the second time, you have an unnerving feeling of being watched. This time, you whip your head to the side and catch him staring straight at you.

Damon´s face is flushed, his hair tousled, his rose colored glasses steamed up from the muggy aura in the room. His denim jacket is hanging off one shoulder, the rest of his torso covered with a sheer wife beater that accentuates his chiseled dad-body.

But he just stares you down, saying nothing. You frown at him a little bit and shift your body away from him, feeling vulnerable to his laser-gaze. His eyes darken, but Graham speaks, cutting him off from whatever he was about to say.

¨That was pretty good, you lot. Greg, Taz, hold off on the third beat of the fourth measure. We´ve gotta crescendo slightly-¨

¨Y/N, do you have a job?¨

Damon's voice cuts off Graham, and everyone falters as they look at him and then you in surprise.

¨I don´t know what you mean,¨ you respond coolly, knowing that whatever he was about to say wasn't good.

¨I mean, do you have a job? Because as far as I know, most people who work don't dress like whores at their job.¨

His eyes travel from your face down to your slight cleavage, and you sputter in rage as the rest of the boys shift uncomfortably.

¨Damon, for god's sake what´re you on about?¨ Graham asks wearily, taking his glasses off and rubbing his shiny neck.

¨I could ask you the same thing, actually. Because as far as I know, you've fucked enough women in your lifetime that one would think you could keep it in your pants for five minutes without acting like a twelve-year-old. Oh, but unless that´s too professional for you? I guess you´re not as serious about your work environment as you claim.¨ you laugh, and the sax player, Greg, snorts into his water bottle.

Damon sneers, ¨How could I forget, you actually have done your research about my life and sexual endeavors, what a cute little fangirl you are. If you wanted an autograph, you could've just asked, sweetheart.¨

¨Go fuck yourself,¨ you snap. ¨You´re all wearing wife-beaters anyways, what's the difference?¨

Damon starts again but Graham claps his hands loudly, startling you all.

¨Enough, both of you! What's gotten into you? Need I remind you that our song is due in less than two weeks? We need to finish this shit and get on with it. Stop acting like children.¨

You mumble under your breath and Damon shoots a dark look to his childhood friend, but the brunette doesn't back down, and continues to give advice on how to improve their song. You don´t look at Damon the rest of the session out of pure spite, but that doesn't stop him from shamelessly staring straight at you, right until it's time to leave.

The second Graham checks his watch and exclaims that it's a quarter past twelve already, you´re already bolting out of your seat and shoving your violin in its case, eager to get out of the disgustingly hot room.

Fortunately, this time you had the right idea to park in the garage like everyone else to avoid any other unwanted encounters, but unfortunately while it was nice to not be waterboarded on your walk, it wasn´t enough to stop said unwanted encounters from occurring.

Take right now, for instance.

As you stumble to your car in the blistering weather, your energy depletes faster and faster, causing you to be light headed. Practice was already tough enough in the sweltering heat, but after Damon's little scene you don't have any energy to even walk.

You crash blindly into your car, the metal of the doors burning your skin as you make contact with the handle. You hiss and jerk back, swaying slightly as your head fogs up. You can barely see, you feel like your clothes weigh a ton on you, so you slide down the vehicle and sit up against the tires, throwing your head back against the car and groaning. The idea of unlocking your doors and sitting in the seat where no doubt several temperatures higher will be settling on the dashboard and in the front row is nauseating.

Weather-2

You-0

You don't know the building well enough to know where a vending machine is, and even if you shot Graham a text, you don't have enough energy to wander around and scout for it.

And lo and behold, from a distance, a figure approaches. You squint as it draws nearer, and let out a laugh as the features come into familiarity.

The heat must be getting to you worse than you thought, because you´re certain you´re hallucinating Damon Albarn of all fucking people swaggering towards you, one hand holding his denim jacket over his shoulder, and a shit-eating grin on his face as he comes to stand in front of you.

All you can do is pant like a dog, looking up at him with unimpressed eyes.

¨Oi, G-String. ´Brought you some water.¨ he holds out a hand, and you choose to ignore the offensive nickname, insead noticing the large bottle in it, cold condensation covering its expanse.

Your eyes widen and you lick your lips unconsciously, holding your hands out for it.

Damon watches your tongue poke out and loses focus before snapping back to reality and moving his arm above your head. You pout and try to reach for it again, but he laughs and holds it even higher.

You glare and turn your head away from him, suddenly remembering how he embarrassed you earlier.

¨Go away. I don't want it anymore. You´re an asshole.¨ you mumble, perspiration hanging off your lip as you lick the salty beads away once again.

Damon´s eyes never leave your mouth as he listens to you and watches the pink appendage make its appearance again, and his mouth hangs open slightly unbeknownst to you for a second. You cross your arms and glare at the empty parking lot, silently willing him to go away.

He snaps back into focus yet again and shakes his head at you. ¨Oh come on love, I´m just teasing. You look like you´re about to die anyways, might as well make this your last meal-er, drink I mean.¨

¨I´m not taking anything from a complete dickhead who enjoys harassing women about their clothes. You know, for such a womanizer, you act pretty clueless about how comments like that would make a girl feel. No one else but you had an issue with it, or rather, had the audacity to point it out.¨ You cough at the last word, your dry throat and heavy head making it harder to talk.

He sighs and crouches down, balancing on the balls of his feet. He pops open the cap and gently turns your chin towards his face, much to your surprise. You´re genuinely too weak to protest, but when you look at his concerned face, eyebrows scrunched up and accentuating the lines on his forehead, you don't think you'd want to turn away even if you could.

He coaxes your agap mouth even more open by dragging a rough thumb down over your lips, and you obediently open your mouth, mesmerized by his eyes. His movements are soft and slow, as if you were a fidgety rabbit about to run off at the slightest touch. He scoots closer, right over in front of you as you simply gaze up at him, allowing him to pour cool water down your throat, quenching your bone-dry palate.

For a couple of seconds, water floods your mouth but all you can do is stare up at him. The light rays are reflecting off his back, casting a yellow glow around his silhouette and he almost looks like an angel. His hair is mussed as if he'd spent the day running his hands through the golden locks, and the scruff on his face peeks through soft-looking skin.

¨Swallow, or I'll really waterboard you this time,¨ he says lowly, chuckling a bit as he catches you staring so adamantly right in his face. You jerk back to consciousness and swallow hastily, accidentally choking on the gulp in your rush.

He laughs even more and lets go of your chin much to your disappointment as he adjusts himself to sit next to you, not seeming to mind the scorching car metal. The absence of his hand on your face leaves a cold, empty feeling in your heart despite the heated blush on your cheeks

¨You´ll burn yourself,¨ you mumble, lolling your head over to look at him.

But he looks straight ahead and shrugs casually. ¨Not any more than you.¨ You both sit in silence for a few minutes, occasionally sipping from the bottle he passes towards you and watching cars go by.

¨You didn't answer my question. Why do you harp on me in the studio? You act like a normal human being here.¨

Damon looks thoughtfully at a white sedan passing by, then speaks.

¨As I´m sure Graham has blabbed to you already, I´ve been having some...trouble with the missus, let's say.¨

You say nothing and raise a questioning eyebrow.

¨For the shitty attitude,¨ he mutters and swipes the bottle from your hand, taking a large swig himself.

¨And, like you said earlier, I am an asshole. Of course I´ll enjoy harassing pretty women over their revealing clothes,¨ he smirks and gives you a once over.

There it was again, pretty woman.

You scowl and get up to leave, but what he says stops you in your tracks.

¨Taz was lookin´ at you,¨ he says quietly, suddenly very interested in the now-empty bottle. ¨´Didn't like it, but I couldn't say anything to him. Graham likes him too much.¨

Huh. Maybe the pair of eyes you felt back in the room didn't only belong to Damon.

He cracks a small smile and looks up at you, his face adorably innocent and wide as he sheepishly admits, ¨I´m used to butting heads with blokes like him for women.¨

You jerk back up to your feet, brushing off any insinuation he was giving and pat his knee awkwardly, ignoring the fire now igniting once again in your chest.

¨Thanks for the water, I needed it. You might wanna move if you don't want to get run over by my car.¨ You reach down and pick up your case as Damon clambers to his feet.

He looks amused as you fumble for your keys, nervously turning the lock and sitting in the hot car, obviously eager to get away from his intimidating gaze.

¨I´ll see you next week, yeah?¨ You laugh breathlessly and roll your window down to call out to him.

He says nothing, but merely cocks his head at you, his eyes now obscured by the rose-colored glasses he puts over his eyes. He waves a little and watches as you drive away a little too fast.

But as it turns out, you don't see him next week.

******

It was just your luck that one of the cutest guys from your work asked you out on the very same week you had practice with the boys. You contemplated moving the date to another time, but...you deserved to have some fun time off too, right? It's not like it would make too much of a difference in your skill, anyways, you´ve gotten all the strings down and such.

So, you decide to go on this date. It goes well, the dude was cute, dorky, lacked a little pizzazz but nothing a bottle of fancy red wine and a night of movies couldn´t coax out of him. It honestly wasn't anything too big, you exchanged numbers and made plans to meet up again soon. After parting ways, you threw yourself back into the regular regime of practicing your violin and meticulously listening to the booth recording every night, just so you could perfect your part to a T.

The day came where you had to go back to practice, and you were ready, veins pumping with determination to make these last few sessions the best you´ve played yet. You texted Graham that you´d be there soon, and he gave you a thumbs up in return. When you finally arrived in front of the room, you were 10 minutes late. The boys were already playing, by the sound of the percussion booming outside the door. You grimace and take a deep breath, turning the handle in and hurrying inside the booth.

No one really spared a glance at you, so you assumed you were okay in terms of punctuality. You opened your case and started strumming your strings, counting the measures and beats until it was your turn. Damon´s voice rang out, melodious and airy as ever, dropping octaves and floating on soprano tones. Your bow moved across his words, accenting his tones and adding emphasis to his sorrowful song. And then, after a couple of minutes, it was done.

¨Alright you lot, pretty good for today. ´Specially you, Y/N, you caught up pretty quick, I expected you to slack behind but I'm actually impressed.¨ Graham flashed you a nervous grin and you beamed back at him in return.

¨Yeah, speaking of, why were you gone last week? I expected someone who makes below the poverty line would actually want to work for their money,¨ Damon chuckles a little meanly.

You feel your smile drop a smidge.

¨Well actually Damon, not that it's any of your business, but I went on a date.¨ You smirk at him, enjoying the way his mouth opens slightly and moves silently.

But he regroups quickly and glares at you. ¨None of my business? The deadline is only a few days away, and you´re whoring yourself out and going on dates? I guess you´re not as professional as Graham thought.¨

Everyone shifts uncomfortably, and blood rushes to your face, anger clouding your mind. Why was he being like this? He was fine the last time you saw him, you actually thought maybe he was going to change the way he addressed you.

Graham speaks up. ¨Damon. You´re overreacting man, I gave her the okay, and she played fine today. No harm done, seriously, there's no need for that kind of language towards her.¨

¨Actually, there absolutely is a need. If I knew you were going to invite a prostitute as our sub-in then I would´ve never agreed to have her here. Didn´t know you were so low on money Y/N, I would´ve spared you a couple pounds.¨ He sneers.

¨Damon!¨

You laugh bitterly and rise to your feet. ¨Oh that's rich, coming from the man who fucked half the continent just because he couldn't get over one girl. No wonder every real woman in your life including your wife wants to leave, nothing is ever good enough for you. Except heroin maybe.¨

The words leave your mouth before you can take them back, and there's a pin drop silence as if a bomb had been dropped. In a way, it kind of did.

Damo glares at you. Everyone is holding your breath, including you.

¨Get out.¨

¨Hey,-¨ Taz tries to gently interject but Damon throws the mic at him.

¨I said get the fuck out. You´re not practicing with us anymore, you can pack your shit and leave.¨

Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, and you choke out a small ¨Fine.¨

You hear Graham berating him behind you as you fly through the door, telling him that they need you, it's too late to change people, but the words jumble in your ears as the door slams shut. You don't hear what Damon says, if he even says anything, and you aren't interested in his comebacks right now.

It's only when you leave the car, tears streaming down your face in rage and embarrassment that you groan to yourself, your hands reaching an empty seat with one foot out the door-

You forgot your violin case.

************

It's nighttime.

The crickets chirp as you creep silently through the parking garage, the soft thud of your shoes echoing a lot louder than you wanted in the empty lot. The studio itself wasn't closed, but you were sure Damon must have informed the manager there not to let an ex-musician like you back in there.

Wearing a black hoodie and black pants was a smart move- you blended in with the shadows well. The doors weren't locked, and you hiss out a small ¨yesss¨ as you slip inside the mostly dark building. Needless to say, you were proud of yourself for navigating through the windings pitch-black hallways to your old booth.

Testing the handle lightly, you sigh out in relief when that too gives way. Unfortunately though, the second the door shuts behind you, you immediately stumble forward and fall.

The room is dark, darker than the other hallways so you can barely see your hands. The only source of light you´re granted is the dim red bulb on top of the booth door. And speaking of, that's exactly where you need to go...which proves to be harder when you keep bumping into random shit and cursing when you feel potential bruises forming on your shins.

Miraculously you stagger through the next door towards where you last sat, and blindly feel around the floor and chairs for your violin case. You feel nothing there, but panic starts settling in your heart when you can't find it.

¨Looking for something?¨

You scream and lurch backwards, knocking your head into some kind of stand. Groaning, you rub your head and hold a hand on your racing heart as you squint into the dim red room, placing the voice to the person.

¨D-Damon?¨

¨In the flesh sweetheart. ´Knew you'd come back for this, s´just my luck I came back to get it tonight so I could give it to you personally in case you wanted to be stubborn. But this is even better than I could´ve hoped.¨

You make out his silhouette in the obsidian abyss in front of you. He's sitting with knees spread on a chair, a few feet in front of you as he leans his head back on the wall. Your precious violin case is being held hostage in his arms, and it's the absolute love you have for the brittle instrument that propels you to your feet and moves you to get the hell out instead of interrogating him.

¨What, so you were just here the whole time listening to me falling around like an idiot?” You laugh incredulously, and you see the area of his shoulders move up and down.

¨Was pretty funny to watch, honestly. You sound cute when you curse.¨ He stands up to his fullest height now, the red light bouncing off his back, giving him a sort of demonic halo.

You knew it was actually time to leave when you felt those stupid butterflies in your stomach rise up again.

¨Right, well, I´ll be on my way then. Good luck with your song and whatever, I´ll just take the case...¨ You trail off as your extended hand is left in midair, no violin case reaching it.

He cocks his head at you. ¨Why are you in such a rush to leave?¨

You can´t help the scoff that escapes you.

¨Are you serious? You were such an absolute dickhead to me this afternoon, you said all sorts of horrible things to me, and you even fired me for Christ's sake! I want nothing to do with you, so could you please give me my case back so I can go?¨

He's silent for a moment before answering. ¨Are you done yet?¨

It isn´t just the light that's making you see red now.

¨Fuck you, honestly.¨ You whirl around and stomp towards where you guess the door is, ignoring the clatter behind you and bingo you locate the handle, but as soon as you turn it-

A hand reaches from behind you and pulls the ajar door shut.

¨Don´t go. I´m sorry.¨

You´re absolutely still as you feel him towering over you, his arm dangerously close to your midriff as his hand remains on the knob.

His voice is low, and you can feel him breathe against your neck, mere inches away. You can´t help the involuntary shiver that passes through you, and he feels it too, inhaling deeply when he gets close to your ear.

¨You smell so good.¨

¨Leave me alone, Damon,¨ you whisper, your voice catching in your throat from the overwhelming onslaught of emotions passing through you.

He breaths in and slowly lets his hand rest on your side.

¨I can't do that. You know why. You have to have known by now.¨

You tremble in his touch, yet allow his hands to wander down to your hip, the other coming around in a sort of hug to pull you closer to him.

¨We can´t.¨

¨Sure we can.¨

You can feel his erection bumping against your ass.

¨You´re not worth this.¨

¨I´ll make myself worth it.¨

And as soon as he latches onto the back of your neck, you´re like putty in his hands, a moaning mess as he sucks galaxy-colored hickies on your skin. You can feel yourself grow wetter as he shoves his hands up your shirt and teasingly pulls down the bridge of your bra, letting the weight of your tits fill up his hands appreciatively. He starts rolling your hardened buds in between his skilled calloused fingers, and you whine and throw your head back when you feel him rut against your ass, panting raggedly in your ear.

You rub your thighs together, desperate for some form of friction as he squeezes your tits, and then letting one hand ghost across the expanse of your stomach, down to brush against the rim of your panties. Damon chuckles meanly in your ear when you buck against the stilled hand over your mound.

¨You want this?¨ He lightly nips your ear. He smells like old spice and sandalwood.

You nod desperately, frustrated with him not giving you his thick fingers already.

But it's not enough for him. ¨No no, pretty girl, use your words now. I´ve barely touched you yet and you´re already moaning like a wanton little slut for me? And here I was thinking you weren't that easy.¨

You stop jerking your hips and blood rushes to your face at his insulting words. You try to move out of his grip, huffing and regretting the whole thing but he outright laughs now and spins you around, tugging you forward until your chest is slotted against his. You pout at him and look away, but he's quick to grasp your chin and pull you in for a rough yet sensual kiss.

Pushing you backwards against the wall, he deepens the lip-lock, tracing his tongue over your lips, nipping at the soft flesh and darkening his eyes when you whimper and look up at him.

He knows what he´s fucking doing when he again drops his hand under your pants and over your panties, his other palm wound up firmly through your hair. He pulls your head back and lets you breathe for a second from his kiss of death before he speaks again.

¨I didn't hear an answer, slut. Do you want this?¨ He leans forward until his nose brushes against your neck, flicking his tongue out to taste your saccharine flesh.

You tremble against his firm body when he pushes his pelvis against you, letting you feel how hard he is for you.

It doesn't matter anymore. Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an easy slut putting up a facade for him, but when his clothes erection grinds up against your pussy you can't care less.

¨Y-yes, yes, ´want you, please,¨ you pant, frantically gripping the back of his cropped hair as his head descends to mark your neck again.

¨What a good girl,¨ he whispers, finally allowing his digits to oh-so-slowly trace over your mound, pressing down harder when you jerk against him. He finds your wet clit and flicks it a few times, snickering when you gasp and moan. Your body writhes in place but he holds you literally between a rock-or, wall- and a hard place, preventing you from scampering off.

He drums his fingers against your folds, paying no attention to the way you grip his head tighter against you, silently begging him to go further.

But he relents eventually and retires from just pushing and prodding your folds, allowing his slicked fingers to slowly dive into your drooling hole. You whimper and bite back a string of curses when you feel him fill you completely, scraping against your walls for that one special spot.

His mouth moves off your neck and he rises to face you, a stupid smug grin on his wet lips, his eyelids lowered and trained on you. You flush at his lustful expression and gently push his head away, not wanting to accept his victory yet.

¨My fingers are literally fucking you right now, and you still won´t let me look at you? What, too embarrassed you couldn't continue being a stone-cold bitch for long?¨

You open your mouth to snap back but right at that moment he curls his fingers and grazes your G-spot, simultaneously grounding his wet palm against your clit.

With a loud gasp and the sluttiest moan you´ve ever made, you cum hard, your mouth open in a silent scream and your tongue hanging out like a bitch in heat as you do so. You fall forward against him.

You don't even need to look up to know that he has a shit-eating grin on his face.

¨What was that sweetheart? Sorry, ´couldn't hear you over those slutty moans. I think even the pornstars I´ve been with would give you a standing ovation if they heard what you just sounded like.¨

Your words are slurred as you curse nonsense at him, yet you´re still gripping his forearms to keep a hold on yourself. Your ears are ringing and you see spots as you come down from your climax, and surprisingly enough, Damon holds you close and doesn't let you slip down to the ground as you expected to when your knees start to give out.

Instead, he lifts you up quite easily and carries you over to a table in the corner of the room. You don´t know how he even navigates his way through the dimly lit room, but you suppose after almost half a lifetime in studios he knows his way around.

You offer no resistance as he sets you down gently and begins to lift your shirt off of your body. You manage to lift your arms weakly up in the air for easier access to stripping, but when he starts to kneel down to take your pants off you stop his hands at your knees and look at him with scrunched eyebrows.

He stops and looks up at you. His eyes aren't so darkened anymore, they´re wide and imploring, probably noticing your hesitation.

¨Damon, I...¨ You trail off as he maintains eye contact with you and slowly lowers his pursed lips to your calf, lightly pecking his way up to your knees and ensuring that you´re watching his every move.

Your breathing increases again as his pink appendage darts out, his saliva cooling on your exposed thighs. He sucks on the plush skin and turns his head upwards to face you.

You want to run your hands through his hair.

¨You have a wife,¨ You breathe.

¨Not for tonight I don´t.¨

Your voice gets caught in your throat at that. He positions his hands at the side of your knees, fingers curling around the hem of your pants in a second attempt.

¨Let me make you feel good, love.¨

His answer is in the form of your hand reaching for his collar and pulling him up into a standing position until he towers over your seated form, once again breath stolen in a heated kiss.

Damon fumbles with his zipper as you shove your pants off, fully ready for him now, your dampened panties solid evidence of your need for him.

He pulls his cock out and it bounces out, slapping up against his stomach.

You do a double take. The tabloids were right. He was absolutely huge.

It was disgusting almost, it was insulting really. How the fuck could he be that big? You lose count of how many inches he is when you start to get light headed, realizing with a jolt that he plans to put that monster inside you.

And fuck, why did it have to be so pretty too? Normally you wouldn´t use the word pretty to describe a dick, but fuck, that´s the only appropriate word that came to mind as you admired the white flesh as it mixed in with a dull pink flush turning into an angry shade of red as your eyes progressed up to his tip...which was soaked with precum, mind you.

He was neatly shaven everywhere, including his plush balls. No wonder he got to fuck half the continent.

Damon notices your gawking and smiles lazily, taking a fist around his prick and stroking lethargically up and down.

¨You gonna just stare at it all day or are you going to spread those cute legs for me?¨

Spoken like a true middle aged fuck-boyman.

You look up at him beseechingly, thoroughly intimidated by his length. He merely scoffs, winking at you when he wrenches your tightly closed knees apart.

It's almost like he falls into a trance when he presses his now-naked torso against your chest, when he slots himself between your legs and drags his tip through your sloppy folds and up onto your clit. His mouth falls open slightly and he moans when your juices coat his dick, making it slippery and easy to push the first few inches ever so slightly into your spasming cavern.

He can't help but want more, need more as he practically smothers his weight onto you, forcing you to lie back on the table and letting your legs dangle off the edge. He hunches over you and thrusts minutely into your pulsing folds, groaning when you whine and lace your fingers around his neck and tangle your legs around his back, dragging him impossibly close into you.

For a moment it´s just the sound of you two panting and moaning like inexperienced teenagers, and a zing of pride zips up your spine at the realization that Damon Albarn, one of the world's most renowned playboy is whining and humping against your pussy, reduced to nothing at your hands.

He takes your hands from around his neck and grips your wrists, forcing them above your head on the table. He leans down and kisses you, hard. You give him back the same energy when your hips move up and down along his length, pushing your inviting hole towards his eager and jumping dick.

¨Pretty little girl,¨ he murmurs against your lips, and you nip his bottom lip playfully in retaliation. He slowly starts to sink himself into you, and you practically purr at the feeling of his veiny member dragging against your sensitive walls until he stops.

You look at him questioningly, and blanch when you see the mischievous glint in his cobalt eyes.

¨I want you to count for me.¨

¨Count…?¨ You shake your head in confusion and he pulls out, making you groan in annoyance.

¨I want you to count every inch I put inside you. Unless your slutty mouth can't even do that? I'd be surprised if you couldn´t, you usually have so much shit to say.¨ His voice is low yet teasing, and a shiver passes through you when the rumble of his chest vibrates against your nipples.

¨F-fine, I´ll count.¨

He hums in approval and regroups, guiding his length into your awaiting pussy once again.

It´s almsot torture how slow he goes, and your toes curl at how vivid the sensation is at this pace.

You almost forget to do what he asks until he ducks his head down and teeths your bud.

¨Ah, fuck! One!¨ You yelp, writhing to get away from his lecherous gaze and hold on your poor tit.

He tuts and licks the swollen area until the pain subsides a bit, and then he continues to push.

¨T-two,¨ you moan and let your head fall back. It's unfair how tightly he´s holding your reins-you want him to plow you down, not take his sweet time in this punishment.

¨Damon, can´t you go any faster? Please, I want y-¨

¨-I didn't take you for a masochist, Y/N, but I´m happy to play around with these cute tits if you want to bitch more.¨

Your scowl is cut off when he suddenly shoves two more inches into you, and you mewl loudly at being filled so much.

¨Three! Four! Fuck, oh god, please,¨ you babble nonsense as he curses above you, his form shaking in an effort not to push all the way in.

¨Doing so good sweetheart, you´re almost halfway,¨ he smirks and you gape at him in disbelief.

Halfway?

Five, six, seven, eight, and nine go painfully slow, and by the time he´s fully sheathed inside you, plush balls pressed against your ass, you´re an incoherent, drooling mess.

Your hair is in your face, your cheeks are flushed, and your body bounces up and down as he begins to rock inside you, finally giving you what you want.

His name is chanted like an obscene prayer from your mouth as he grunts and shakes the table. Your legs are wobbly and unable to do anything except press him tighter against you to the point where he can barely move back. The skin of his stomach slaps against yours, his balls slap against the crevice of your ass, and your pussy practically sloshes with every stroke in and out.

He fists your hair with one hand and pulls your neck up to meet his searching lips, his other hand holds your wrists fast against the table. You want to touch him, you want to explore your body as he has conquered yours but he doesn't let you feel anything else apart from the rapid thrusts inside your battered body.

Damon switches positions and lifts the back of your knees up and pushes them forwards until they meet your chest. He lets his body weight rest on the back of your thighs as he pulls out and pushes back impossibly close inside you, closer than he did in missionary.

You sob with need as he plunges into you and reaches a higher spot than before, his tip grazing your cervix. He pounds into you, and you thrust your hips up to fuck back into him, calling out his name as if he were your god.

It´s a good thing the rooms are soundproof.

You feel your second climax comes when he paves way through your tight walls and batters your uterus. It doesn´t hurt so much as feel intense, and your choked moans become panting gasps when he brings a hand down to swirl his thumb over your aching clit.

¨You´re not going to meet with that prick from your work again, yeah? Say it. Say it if you want me to let you cum.¨ He could have been speaking an alien language for all you knew. Your poor addled brain didn't pick up anything except for the word ¨cum¨, and you were a goner.

¨Yes, yes, anything you say, anything you want, just please let me-¨

And oh he does.

It comes over you like a tidal wave, your mind going blank, your eyes seeing white as your legs shake from your earth-shattering orgasm. You feel like you´re going down a rollercoaster, and you never want to stop dropping.

Distantly, you hear him groan and say your name. You can feel pulsing in your filled walls, with what you assume is his ropes of cum. It feels like when you came, it practically squeezed all his cum out with your clenching.

He lets out a shaky breath and falls forward, his nose inches from yours, his breath puffing in your face.

Your eyes are glazed over, but you´ve never seen anything more clearly before.

Maybe Damon Albarn really was worth it.

#blur #damon x reader #damon albarn #damon albarn smut #britpop #90s damon #90s #smut #fluff #britpop smut #damon fluff #Damon Albarn #damon albarn x reader #Damon albarn smut #Damon albarn fanfic #Damon albarn fanfiction #blur fanfic #blur fanfiction

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marvelmymarvel · 3 years

Text

Lonely

Orochimaru x Reader

Synopsis: Time and distance didn’t matter when it came to Orochimaru, but you hated feeling so lonely without him.

Song: ilomilo by Billie Eilish (Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lH1F6m3slrQ)

A/n: Its long, I get that he seems out of character. Idc. I love him. No shame.

They called you many things. A loser, a weirdo, a traitor... So many names that you lost track of them all, but none of them mattered when it came to him. You personally didn’t understand it yourself, why you left the Leaf Village in search of the man who killed your Hokage. Being apart of the ANBU black ops made the escape 10x more difficult and dangerous, as they now considered you a threat to the village. You knew too much, but none of it mattered.

Only he did.

At first, the pale man was annoyed by your presence and how you kept popping up at every single hideout he moved to. He tried and tried again to get rid of you, even going so far as sicking his ninja on you, instructing them to rough you up and scare you away. But they did much more than that and left you to die outside of yet another hideout you found. They figured that killing you was easier than sending Orochimaru’s stupid warning, so they never told him and continued on with their life.

It was quiet for a week, but soon enough his henchmen dragged you into yet another secret hideout. He was running out of options and even Kabuto was growing agitated by your constant presence, but something in the air changed that day. The guards threw you down in front of him, your body littered with bruises and cuts. Orochimaru sat up straighter in his chair, taking in the sight of your unconscious and bloody body in the middle of the room. They had done a number on you and something stirred inside of the pale man at the view of your vulnerable body.

The guards looked up at their boss, expecting reassuring praise for their work but all they got was a snarl. “I told you to scare her... Not beat her half to death” Kabuto hissed out as he stomped over towards them angrily, he felt his master's temper flare and he was not about to be the punching bag for an idiotic decision that wasn’t his. The guards sputtered out excuses, claiming that you never listened to their threats, and decided that maybe beating you to death would help everyone out.

‘Death’

The word struck a chord within Orochimaru who was now crouched over your body, hand shakily brushing the blood away from your mouth. He was terrifyingly silent as if he was a bomb with no timer. The three men grew silent while they took in the oddly soft and caring caress. It should have been shocking to see such a sweet action, but it only made the fear grow within the two guards. Kabuto side-eyed them, they didn’t know it but he knew Orochimaru was seconds away from exploding.

“What do you want me to do with them?”

The two guards headshot to Kabuto, mouth gawking as they tried to explain how they were doing Orochimaru a service. They explained and explained how you were a creep, a weirdo, and a threat, they had to get rid of you. Kabuto ignored it but secretly prayed for them to shut up before Orochimaru killed them himself. His patience was growing thinner the more he caressed your bloody skin and hearing how they talked about you only sped up that process, he was 10 seconds away from snapping... But something felt off.

“Kill them, slowly and painfully. Do the same thing to them as they did to her”

Their loud pleading soon became a muffled cry as they were hauled out by the other guards standing by. Kabuto stood by the door, observing the way Orochimaru sat down beside you. His hand trailed slowly to your face before a blue light emitted between his skin and yours. Kabuto’s eyebrows furrowed, Orochimaru knew some medical ninjutsu, but he hadn’t used it for years since it drained him.

“Do you need something Kabuto?”

Kabuto perked up with a sharp inhale, embarrassed that he had been caught staring at the exchange. Orochimaru didn’t seem bothered and instead moved his glowing hand down to your stomach where blood was pooling from a deep wound. “Would you like me to get the medical ninja sir?” silence filled the room but the words hung heavy in the air, it was dangerous to assume that Orochimaru cared but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something changed.

“Yes” Orochimaru’s whisper hit Kabuto’s ears and without another word, he left to go get the medical ninja who could heal you much more than Orochimaru ever could. Leaving Orochimaru with only his thoughts and your limp body-

“Oh tell it again Kabuto!” you exclaimed cutting off the man right as the story was beginning to end. It had been months now since the incident occurred, but you couldn’t get enough of the way the pale man treated your unconscious form. Kabuto rolled his eyes at your hopeless romantic ways but according to Orochimaru, he had to do whatever you wanted. Kabuto opened his mouth again but a heavy sigh falling from your lips stopped him short.

“What's the matter? I thought you liked the story-”

“If he really cared about me, he would show it.. But he doesn't” Kabuto’s mouth shut at your words, because in all honesty, you were right. The softness that Orochimaru showed you that day was never repeated and you were now treated like everyone else. It wasn’t what you hoped for, but you were able to see Orochimaru once a month...

Your frown deepened at the thought, coldness spreading within your body as you once again grew lonely. Kabuto was your only friend and even that was a stretch as he was growing quite annoyed with taking care of you. Silence filled the stale air of your room deep inside of the hideout, it was the 5th one this month and each left you disoriented and afraid. It was supposed to be designed this way, so intruders would have a tough time finding their way through it, but you hated it.

Kabuto knew this, which is why the first couple of days in a new place meant 24-hour surveillance and company in the hopes of breaking you into the new atmosphere. Your feet kicked at the ground below you, lip pulled between your teeth as you fought back tears. It was silly really, an ex ANBU being afraid of a windowless and disorienting place, but you couldn’t help it. “I get it if you think I’m weak... They did too” you whispered out as you swiftly wiped away your falling tears, hoping he wouldn’t see them but knowing he did.

He always did.

Kabuto pursed his lips in response, while he had been taking care of you he had also learned a lot about you. Partly because he was curious, but mainly because Orochimaru asked him to. ‘I want you to learn everything about her, and report it back to me’ Orochimaru would instruct nonchalantly as if there was no sentimental meaning behind his words, but Kabuto knew better. There was something different in the way he said it as if he cared for you. It was a weird way of showing his care, but Kabuto never questioned it and instead asked you questions ranging from ‘what's your favorite color?’ to ‘why did you leave the ANBU?’

And the ANBU question was what made your walls come crashing down.

“The ANBU simply couldn’t handle a sensitive person like you... Sensitive people aren’t meant for that group” Kabuto stated simply knowing that their hatred for you was pure jealousy. Those in the ANBU were beaten down until there was nothing left but a soldier, it was effective but apparently, you were able to get through it and still smile like an innocent child. Teasing you became a game, and they even tried to see who could make you cry the fastest. That fact shocked Kabuto when he learned about it, but telling Orochimaru was a whole other story.

He remembered that day. Remembered how Orochimaru halted in place over his experiments, back growing tense as the anger rose within him. That was the same day that Kabuto realized what was going on with his master. He would never dare tell Orochimaru, nor would he ever tell you for fear of backlash, but he could never and would never forget that tense feeling in the air. So protective. So angry. His boss lied when he said he didn’t care for you...

He was in love with you.

Your nodding brought Kabuto from his memories, sometimes he hated being honest with you as the tears only continued to cascade down your cheeks. He couldn’t fix you, couldn’t heal you... That wasn’t his job and if he tried to do it... Well, he may lose his head.

Fighting the urge to give you a hug, Kabuto instead stood and swiftly walked to the door. “You should get some rest... Traveling always tires you out” his cold tone only seized your heart up more, once again feeling alone in the small room. Sometimes you wished that Kabuto would stay until you fell asleep, but you weren’t a child and he wasn’t your friend.

“Okay” your whimper made him bite his lip in regret and he was thankful that his back was facing you so that you couldn’t see it. ‘Babies have to cry it out’ he repeated in his head as he exited quickly from your room, leaving you alone as the door closed behind him. He stood there for a second, bouncing on his feet as he prayed for you to calm down without him. You had to learn to self soothe, or you’d never make it here.

Leaning his ear against the door, the soft sound of your sniffling hit his ears but for the first time in the past couple of weeks, he didn’t hear sobbing. Letting out a sigh, he began to walk away from the room and towards the lab where he would soon relay all of the information to Orochimaru. Everything except your crying of course.

He never told him about that...

You let out the sob as you heard his footsteps grow quiet, signaling that Kabuto was gone and you were now alone. The sharp wail that fell from your lips surprised even you, causing your hand to fly over your open mouth to quiet it down. The feeling of loneliness ached within your bones, and coldness seeped into your skin despite the room being muggy. 29 days. It had been 29 days since you last saw Orochimaru. You didn’t know why, but the man soon became your rock and the reason you were breathing.

And you hated it.

Hated how easy you fell for him. Hated how lonely you felt without him. Hated how scared you were when he was out on a mission. You hated it, yet you loved him. The silent sobs that racked your body calmed down as the thought of him soothed your tight chest. Closing your eyes, you lifted your hands and crossed your arms. Your left hand touched your right cheek first and by the time your right touched your left cheek, your anxiety had vanished. It made you sigh out in relief, the action tricking your brain into thinking that your face was being cradled.

You imagined it was Orochimaru holding you instead, an action he’s done only once, but you never forgot the way he felt or how he smelt. A tear slipped down and your thumb swiped it away automatically, this was becoming a nightly routine of yours. It seemed pathetic, but it was the only way you knew how to self soothe. You laid onto your side, moving one hand under your head while the other continued to caress your jaw soothingly. The bed was cold, but you didn’t mind. Instead, you fell asleep to the thought of Orochimaru holding you, his tight and warm embrace reassuring you that you were safe and sound.

If only it was real.

Your body jolted awake but the nightmare still flashed in your head like a neverending movie. The candle had burned out, leaving you in the darkness of a room you didn’t know. Breathing seemed to grow harder as you tried to adjust to the darkness, but it seemed to encapsulate you like a coffin. Standing swiftly, you raced over towards the door, throwing it open in the hopes of meeting a brightly lit hall.

Your blood ran cold as you peered into the dimly lit hall, the walls and ceiling were carved in a way that made your world tilt around you as your stomach twisted in fear. “Orochimaru” you cried out softly, stumbling into the hallway in the hopes of finding him along the way. The hall was neverending and seemed to grow darker the farther you ran down it. “Orochimaru!” your scream echoed down the hall as you slowed down to catch your breath.

You urged your heart rate to slow down, but it only raced faster as the torches around you blew out, leaving you in utter darkness. A soft sob fell from your lips before you once again began to run forward. You kept crying out for him as if he’d be able to hear you. As if he would care. Your body crashed into a wall, knocking all of the breath from your body as you tumbled to the floor. Silence filled the space around you, the only sound being your broken sobs as you gripped the floor for dear life.

The nightmare seemed to come back and you could no longer discern what was real and what was fake. Were you still dreaming? Were the ANBU here to kill you? Did they leave you to die? Did Orochimaru leave you to die? “Oro” you cried out weakly, wincing at just how broken you sounded. Pushing up from your position on the ground, you tried to fight back the feeling that bubbled up in your chest. You had to know if it was real, was this real?

Before you could stop it, you opened your mouth and let out a blood-curdling scream. Your fingers screaming in pain along with you as you gripped the stone below you harder, grounding yourself as your body let out the feelings you’d been holding in for months now. The scream cut off, and you geared up for another one, wanting to chase that freeing feeling of just letting it all out.

“Now now, why are you out of bed?”

An arm wrapped around your waist and the scream in your throat faded out as the words hit your ears. The previous scream echoed down the hall as his words echoed through your head. The torches were once again illuminated, as if they were never extinguished to begin with. Black hair fell over your shoulder and a familiar smell filled your senses, wrapping you in a bubble of protection. Your head snapped up at the sound of feet and you realized that guards were surrounding you two.

“Orochimaru” you whispered out, hand trailing down to grasp the hand that was tightly gripping your hip. His arm clenched around your waist at the feeling of your shaky hand, snarling at the way the guards approached you in rage. “You can all leave” Orochimaru growled, eyes snapping to Kabuto who stood in front of them all. “Sir, she left her room without permission-”

“LEAVE”

You squeaked in surprise, body contracting into his as the men fled from their angry boss. Kabuto stood still, swallowing as he took in the way Orochimaru stared at him. He hadn’t been honest with him, in fact, he never told Orochimaru about your constant crying. But now, he knew everything. The anger grew within Orochimaru’s body as he felt you relax within his embrace, this was all you wanted. “I didn’t want to bother you about it sir” Kabuto stuttered out, hand scratching the base of his neck sheepishly.

Orochimaru stayed silent, but his body tensed behind you as he began to process it all. You had been crying yourself to sleep every night, and not once did Kabuto tell him. Your e/c eyes met Kabuto’s, and you didn’t blame him for staying silent. “I told him not to tell you” you whispered out as your other hand rose to touch Orochimaru's face behind you. It was clumsy considering you couldn’t see where your hand was, but you smiled as he leaned into it nonetheless.

A couple seconds passed, but you noticed the way the atmosphere shifted from tense to relieved. Without another word, Orochimaru stood and helped you up with him. He was still glaring at Kabuto, knowing that you were lying to save him... But, if you lied to him of all people, then maybe Kabuto meant something to you. Hurt panged in Orochimaru’s chest, a wave of new anger rising within him at the thought of Kabuto spending so much more time with you than he did. “You’re relieved of your duties” Orochimaru muttered, arms tightening around your body in a silent display of dominance.

Kabuto nodded before turning and walking back to his own quarters, thankful that he only got a threatening glare instead of a torturous death. Orochimaru tried to calm down the rising fear bubbling under his chest at the thought of Kabuto somehow stealing you from him. Your arms tightened around him, head snuggling underneath his chin as euphoria coursed through your veins. The nightmare and worries were now long forgotten as you cuddled deeper into the taller man's body.

Looking down at you, Orochimaru fought back a smile at the peaceful look on your face. Eyes closed and lips pulled up into a dreamy smile. If he didn’t know it before, he realized it now as he looked down upon you. The painful feeling he got in his chest whenever Kabuto came back with an update. The way his heart sped up at the sight of you. The restless nights he encountered as he worried about your wellbeing. How his mind wandered to you whenever he worked in the lab.

He hummed at the thought before pulling you deeper into his body, arms tightly wrapped around you like a shield. He loved you, it had been quite a while since he loved someone... “Why were you so persistent? Why did you choose me?” your eyes snapped open at his question, but you refused to look at him as you grew embarrassed.

“I-I...”

His fingers grasped your chin, craning your neck and forcing you to look at him. His slitted pupils were blown out, yet you weren’t sure if it was because of the dim lighting or something else. “Tell me. I need to hear it” Orochimaru whispered as his face got closer to yours, it wasn’t meant to intimidate you but he couldn’t help but grow a bit giddy at how you recoiled in shame. “When I saw you, I knew that you were my... It's silly” you had managed to move your chin from his grasp, eyes casting downwards as you shook your head at the thought.

Orochimaru gripped your chin once more, this time a bit harder as he forced you to look back at him. His mouth was inches from yours, and it felt like all of the wind was knocked out of you by how close he was. His breath fanned out onto your face, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin. He didn’t have to say anything, for the action was enough to reassure you that he didn’t care how silly it was.

He had to hear it... He had to hear what Kabuto told him long ago.

“I knew you were my soulmate... I know it's crazy and I’ve only told Kabuto but-” You were spun around before you could finish, back crashing into the wall as Orochimaru shoved his lips against yours. It was heavy while he kissed you feverishly as if you were the only thing that could bring his excitement down. You moaned into his mouth, teeth clashing with his in response to the sudden move. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down for better access while his hands wandered along your body. He wanted to learn and remember every single feature of your body, he had so much to catch up on.

After what felt like a minute Orochimaru finally pulled back, leaving you a flustered mess below him. One of his hands cradled your cheek, softly caressing the skin with his thumb as he took in the view. Your eyes shut at the feeling, remembering how only hours ago, you wished to feel this exact action. “Can I be honest with you?” you whispered out, eyes still shut in fear of him rejecting your question. When you were met with silence, you decided to continue.

“I don't like being away from you... It scares me”

The tightened grip on your cheek was the only indicator that he wasn’t upset with you, in fact, it almost felt like he was upset with himself. “Then you shall never leave my side” serenity filled your bones, replacing the loneliness that once laid heavy within them with a lighter, happier feeling. You would never be alone again.

“C-can I stay with you? In your room I mean... I feel so lonely in my room” he didn’t answer your plea and instead pressed his head against yours, hoping you’d understand that when he said you’d be by his side forever. He meant it. His lips met the tip of your nose, the action leaving you bewildered in his embrace. Orochimaru wasn’t one for ‘soft’ things, that much you had learned in a couple of months being around him.

Opening your eyes, you were relieved to see that his eyes were closed. A smile formed on your lips as you took in his blissed out face, maybe he was lonely too... Maybe, just maybe he needed you as much as you needed him. That question may never be answered, but it didn’t have to be. Because no one could deny it, he was your soulmate.

And you were his.

#orochimaru imagine #orochimaru imagines #orochimaru x reader #orochimaru #naruto imagine #naruto imagines #naruto #orochimaru fanfiction #orochimaru x y/n

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just-a-real-human · 3 years

Text

Silver Warfare: Part 2

William stood on the bridge of his ship, The Silver Warfare. At 2000 meters long, 150 million kilos and still growing, it was the largest battleship in the human navy, except of course the Deus Ex Machina, but that's mainly a base of operations and basically a mobile planet, not technically a battleship. They were expecting an attack by the Dr’acha’lians, and usually William would call in reinforcements, a carrier maybe, or perhaps a couple destroyers. But with the recent additions and improvements upon the massive warship, William was more than confinent in the power his ship held. "So, have the radar crew spotted them yet?" William asked, putting a hand on his chin, stroking his beautiful, silver beard. "No sir, they're not within the 100 kilometre range, sir." "Have the gunners fire a couple radar shots, see what they can find." Radar shots were a special type of shell that can scan an area of about 100 kilometres of where they were headed, the negative is that due to the fact they're launched so fast, they can only take small snapshot of anything they find unless it's at least planet sized. They don't really use radar, not anymore at least, but when they were invented about 100 years ago they still used radar, hence the name. "Hmm...sir, not in the range of radar shots either, do you think they aborted the mission?" "Unlikely...Welp, if they won't come to us i suppose we can go to them...Let's fire up thrusters to gain some speed and go into their general direction, let's beat them down like the beasts they are." "Very well sir, those reptillian bastards'll get what's comin' to them." William chuckled, patting his navigator on the shoulder, looking out into the vast space ahead. Dr’acha’lians we're a rather...simple minder folk, related to the Dr'achs, they had a burning hatred for humanity for...well, exterminating their entire sister species in a way that can only be described as...excessive. It had been about 6 months since that moment, and the Dr’acha’lians had attempted to take revenge on human about 7 times now, failing everytime. Hell, they once tried to attack the Deus Ex Machina! Suffice to say, they didn't get far. William stroked his beard, looking out as they moved forward at a respectable speed "Say, do you think they might be wanting to ambush us? If so, do you think we should ready reinforcement, artillery?" The navigator frowned "You have a point, cap'n, maybe ask that new secretary, Peter, right? He knows them aliens better than us, he should have something to say about it, right?" William nodded approvingly, he knew he could count on his navigator for advice in a pinch. With the introductions of ships this immense, navigators changed from simple pathfinders to assistants that can both navigate the ship and give advice to the captain, as they were expected to know the ins and outs of their ships like the captain themself. William tapped the communicator on his wrist. The communicator beeped for a little while... At Peter's end he was nervously working on the tasks captain William had laid out for him, simple inventory counting, weapons checks, crew counts etc. When suddenly the communicator on the monitor bleeped with an urgent call! Poor Peter almost fell out of his chair, looking at the call, it was William himself! "Uh, Hello sir! Sorry for not picking up, i haven't quite gotten the hang of this thing just yet!" "No problem boy, i just need some advice, do you know about Dr’acha’lian tactics?" "Uh...enough sir, why, are we getting attacked?" "No, at least not yet, i just needed some advice about if they might be planning an ambush, and subsequently, if we needed to call some reinforcements." Peter thought for a moment, digging deep in his brain... "Uhh, well, the Dr’acha’lians aren't known for ambushes, and if the previous battle have been a good example, they aren't exactly worth heavy reinforcements...but you can never be too carefull. Give me a minute sir, i'll see if i can calculate some risks and costs, see what's worth what." "Very well, just try to make it a little swift, i

believe you in the lack of proper ambushes, but still, we don't wanna just blindly stumble into eachother." William looked around, a hand on his chin, the other fidgeting with his hair a bit. He wasn't NERVOUS so to say, but like, a step below that. He knew SOMETHING was coming, and he knew they'd most likely win, but still, a battle's a battle, and you never want to lose men. *Beep beep beep* After roughly 3 minutes the communicator bleeped again, Peter's voice instantly talking as soon as he picked up. "So, sir, i think the best choice might be to call in a couple corvettes and MAYBE a destroyer, judging by the last battles, misslecrafts might be a good choice, and the destroyed should probably be a modified broadsider, the Dr’acha’lians aren't the fastest, but they're not very slow either." William nodded approvingly, eyebrows raised in surprise "Well, thank you Peter! You've done a great job, grab yourself a drink, there's a particularily good soda in the first layer of the drink storage. Though i suggest you don't take anything alcoholic just yet, let's save that for after the battle" Peter chuckled heartily "Thanks sir, but i don't drink, i'll take a look at the soda though! Good luck, sir!" William smiled, ending communications and switching it to the coms devision. "Communications, order some reinforcements, send in 5 corvette missleboats and a destroyer, modified broadsider if at all possible." "Very well sir, punching in the order now...and done! They will be in in about 7 minutes" "Good, thank you, keep up the good work" William closed coms again, leaning against the terminals. "So, now we wait! Let's hope those dull reptillians make themselves and easy target...fire some more radar shots, see if they find anything." "Yup, will do sir." The navigator pressed a few of the buttons, which then sends orders to the artillery garrisons to send out shots. A very efficient system, it simply worked with buttons and orders, of course if specifics were needed or the order buttons were defective/in maintenance, coms can always be opened. They though of everything in this top-of-the-line warship.

The minutes passed rather slowly, but after they passed, it was always worth the wait seeing the ships come in from lightfolding, dropping into line smoothly with the wide lightshow of colours as the ships quickly go from a simple mass of warped light to a proper ship. "Sir William, the ships have all arrived" Said the navigator "Good, we can start speeding up! Send the order to search around for recon, let's find those bastards!" Although looking puny by comparison, the corvettes were still missleboats 100 metres long, and those destroyers were about 300 metres! A fleet of those can quickly turn any ship to spacedust, i mean human missles are no joke, they often carry thermobaric explosives that completely incinerate the inside of a ship as long as there is fuel! Brutal...but as they say, 'All's fair in love and war' After about 10 minutes or recon, the message came in...The enemy had been spotted! "Good! Well done boys, place a tracker in their direction and we can start ranging our shots" William looked outside to the general direction the recon ships were headed, and ask and you shall receive, the radar showed a beacon. William looked at the direction for a long moment, and then he noticed the tiny specs...yup, those were Dr’acha’lian ships right, ugly, weirdly coloured and overall horrible. "Prepare the 120cm cannons, we're gonna be hitting them hard right off the bat." The navigator nodded, punching in the order and readying fire. "Any more orders sir?" "Yes, missleboats, get in position to speed in, lock on and fire with everything you have, destroyer, stay with the S.W and join in fire accordingly, prepare concussive shells." "Yes sir!" Said the navigator, punching in the orders and sending them to the ships. In unison the ships started moving along, the corvettes taking up a wide pentagon, silently preparing missles and roaring up their thrusters, ready to rush in and fire. "Alright...Let's now wait just a moment, tell the artilerry to fire the moment they have a perfect shot, as soon as they fire, we will engage" "Understood sir, you heard the captain, the artillery batteries have the say now..." Seconds passed, feeling like hours, and then, dissapearing as fast as they appeared, immense tremmors shook the ship as an entire salvo of 120cm cannons fired their shells, the corvettes swiftly firing the engines and catapulting forwards towards the enemy. The Silver Warfare herself quickly started turning, the destroyer joining the corvettes in their ambush. They could see the shells hit from here, the absolute power in those thing tearing apart entire battleships in a single hit, followed by a positively gigantic swarm of rockets enveloping the enemy fleet, passing by and hitting ships as it passed before the swarm turned around, hitting again and again, continueing to batter the ships, giving them no chance at retaliation. The silver warfare was approaching swiftly, readying arms and armor as the enemy ships scrambled to put a resistance. William opened up shipwide announcements "General quarters, i repeat men, action stations!" The ship quickly armed and armored up, shields glowing, weapons humming, beeping or making other noises. The ship's immense generator went into battle mode, whirring up a storm as electricety went skyhigh to keep up with the demands of the powerful shielding and weaponry. As soon as the Silver Warfare got in range, all hell broke loose as the Dr’acha’lians opened fire upon them, luckily, their weaponry was vastly inferior to the Silver Warfare's bleeding edge tech and simply immense firepower. As the ships started firing, the Silver Warfare started turning, exposing its side to the enemy as to release the full power of the ship. As soon as the cannons were in range, all of them started firing, a swarm of glowing shells starting to pepper the enemy, destroying small ships and leaving only rubble and dust in their wake. "Sir! The ship is keeping steady and the Dr’acha’lians are struggling to mount a proper counterattack, shall we test the experiment, sir?" "Yes, let's try

that! Let's see if we can live up to the name 'Silver Warfare', shall we?" The navigator smiled, opening shipwide anouncement "All hands, stear clear of the generator, the silver test is about to start, this is not a drill. I repeat, this is NOT a drill. The test shall commence in 5 minutes" As soon as the announcement was made, the gunner crews started scrambling to prepare the experiment, removing the barrels from the massive cannons, swiftly replacing them with different ones, luckily quickened by advanced machinery, then they loaded special shells into the cannons, taking great care to damage neither. William looked at the battle taking place, balancing him every now and then as a salvo hit them or the cannons fired. "Are we sure it won't overload the generator?" "Yes sir...well, in a way it will, but not in a harmful way, you know what i mean" William nodded, looking at the battlefield and opening the anouncements channel once again "The test is now starting, gunners may fire when ready" As soon as he finished, the cannons fired, blasting immense amounts of strange dust across the entire battlefield, the cannon's barrels were replaced with smoothbore ones, and this dust was actually... Silver As the dust spread around the battlefield, William quickly opened up a pannel at the command terminal, revealing a large lever. After the dust had properly settle around the enemy ships, he pulled the lever... In the generator room, the generator itself started going faster and faster, threatening to completely destroy itself with the extra charge, when suddenly... The entire comparment was slid open to space, revealing a massive gaping hole in the ship leading directly to the generator, this was a weak spot...what was the plan? That became clear as soon as the silver came close to the generator, a violent discharge spread throughout the entirely of the battlefield, travelling throughout the silver and electrocuting everything in its path. Silver, being one of the most conductive metals out there made the perfect choice. The enemy ships were being completely fried, not even able to fire anymore as all of their inhabitant were either busy dropping dead from electrocution or exploding since it was like being hit by a lightningbolt all across the field. William laughed, looking at the chaos "Well, report to Yeshua the test was a complete success! The silver warfare was baptised not by fire, but by lightning!" William laughed again, pushing the lever and closing the generator off. The generator would need a little while to get back up to strenght, but it's not like the enemy could put up any resistance. While the generator charged, the Silver warfare and supporting ships simply took care of all enemy ships, like shooting fish in a barrel. (Welp! that was that c: I'll probably not stick to a REALY schedule, but i promise i won't just DIE like that again without telling anyone! BUT I LIVE! I LIVE! I already have a million ideas for the series, and it'll be more around a band of adventurers moreso than these battles, as you might see i'm not the best at writing those '^^. Feel free to drop critisism, have a very nice day and i hope to see you next time :D)

#humans are space oddities #humans are space australians #humans are weird #humans are space orcs

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innately-pretentious · 4 years

Text

Finally, I Found You. (Klaus Hargreeves x Reader)

Request: Hey! I looooved your Klaus headcanons and was wondering if you could write about when him and the reader are reunited in the 60s??? Totally fine if not, have a nice day!

A/N: Awh thank you so much, I hope this is alright dude! I am really tempted to turn this into a series tho... if you want that?? Even if this is really rough and kind of rushed. Kinda angsty? Kinda sad? Very fluffy. Enjoy!

Being spat out of a spinning vortex into a dingy alley was enough to stress anybody out, especially after a rather terrifying and life threatening encounter with your sister initiating the apocalypse. Navigating through the twenty first century was difficult enough, but being catapulted into a completely new decade with nothing but your bag and clothes you were wearing just about topped that.

Letting out a cry as you hit the ground and groaning as you rolled over and tried to get our bearings. Glancing around to see if you could locate any of your siblings whom you were with only a few minutes previously, you stood up and brushed yourself off, you began calling out their names. Sadly with no success, there was no response, you were alone.

You continued pacing along the pavement, trying to come up with a plan of action. Deciding you couldn’t improve your situation much from the alley, you emerged into a busy street and began wandering down the road. Progressing along the street, you could not help but take notice of the architecture and clothing surrounding you. Definitely not similar to the modern aesthetics you were used to. Flagging down an approachable looking woman and kid you asked what year it was, sharing peculiar look she confirmed your suspicions. It was July 24th 1962. Brilliant.

Trying hard not to think the worst of your situation, you mind wandered to Klaus. The two of you had hardly been apart for more than one night over the course of your year long relationship, your stomach dropped at the thought of him being isolated in a random time period, unable to contact anyone, nobody to help. A small part of you wished Ben was with him, but you were completely clueless as to how this whole time travel business worked. You attempted to brush that thought aside for the time being, first you had to find somewhere to stay. Sleeping rough with nothing but the clothes on your back did not sound appealing, luckily you had some spare cash in your bag for a room for a few days, giving you sometime to formulate a plan.

The first night was definitely the hardest. Deciding to find the cheapest hotel you could, you booked a room for the night, collecting the keys and collapsing on the mattress. As soon as you got into the uncomfortable bed you knew sleep would not come tonight, the double bed was not helping either. You spent the majority of the night on your side, laying there and glancing at the opposite side of the mattress, where he should be sleeping. It felt too empty without Klaus hogging the blanket. You couldn’t help the collection of memories the two of you shared popping into your mind. Lazy weekday nights, limbs draped absentmindedly over one another, Klaus’ hand tracing soft patterns into your shoulder as you talked about absolute nonsense for hours. Both dreading when the morning came as you would have to leave his arms. Growing up in Hargreeves’ mansion you would constantly sneak into his room, even before you were together. Your ability to turn invisible was a great help, coming to comfort him if your father pushed him too hard again was almost a nightly occurrence. You loved the way he would relax as soon as he felt you lift up the blanket and settle in next to him, knowing he wouldn’t have be alone.

You smiled at the thought of him, he always had to be close to you. Even in his sleep you caught him reaching for you sleepily or rolling his leg onto you in an attempt to pull you closer. You often wondered if he even knew he was doing it or if it was entirely subconscious. After everything he went through growing up it was no surprise he had clingy tendencies. You wouldn’t change him for anything, if he needed you close, you had no problem obliging him. If it made him feel safe you would do it.

It was at this point the tears started to fall. For someone who had been through so much to then be stuck somewhere, unable to reach you, made your heart ache. Tomorrow you would figure something out, however futile it may be, you were determined to at least try and make a life for yourself here.

3 Months Later:

The three months had not been easy, by any means. It had mainly consisted of you on the road, finding work pretty much wherever would take you. Getting the car you were currently driving was a feat in itself, stealing an automobile had never been on your bucket list. You never liked using your power to steal, however, it was your only mode of transport and occasional place to sleep. You always coaxed Klaus not to just take things, he would be shocked if he could see you now, the look on his face would be priceless! On the bright side, you could have picked a worse car, with five seats, a convertible roof and playable radio, you had risen in worse rides.

More memories surfaced in your mind, ones where you took Klaus out for a drive out of the city during the beginning of his sobriety. This started as an attempt to inject a new lust for life into him, show him there was more to the world than just powder in the back alleys. Soon your little road trip became a weekly occurrence, driving with Klaus and losing track of time, just each other for company. You loved him dearly but you both decided it would be more beneficial if you were the one behind the wheel, not that he cared, he was given full control of the music this way. He insisted on having the windows down and the music loud, staring at you with his pupils slightly dilated, feeling doped up on life rather than various pills. You loved how radiant he looked, you even let him get away with wailing along to the lyrics on the radio, at least for a while…

“Klaus, I love you, but I’m gonna need my eardrums in the future,”

“Yes, I’m aware. Why do you think I’m gracing them with my dulcet tones?”

You couldn’t help but jokingly glare at him. Once again he was never to far away from you, laughing and giving your thigh a squeeze as you watch the city disappear behind you, along with his worries.

Dragging yourself back to the present (well, 1962), you gripped the steering wheel, forcing yourself to focus on the road instead of the bittersweet memories you held. They were the only things you had left of him, and you hoped that wherever he was, he was safe.

You decided to return to the town where it all began, Dallas, Texas. You were in need of some new clothes and a quick bite to eat before you got back on the road, in search for another short-term job to earn some much needed cash. A second-hand shop would probably be the most budget friendly option for clothes, ringing the bell as you opened the door, you began to flick through the various fabrics and patterns of clothing. One of the things you loved about this decade was the flamboyant clothing, he would have thrived here. Gathering quite a large armful of clothes, you decided to go try a few on, just looking through your selection one last time before you committed to the changing room.

You were ripped from your thoughts by a loud thud on the window, resulting in you dropping the bundle of clothes you had accumulated during your browsing. Huffing and turning your attention to the window, ready for some kind of confrontation, although, nothing could be further from your assumption.

Your eyes met with the same hazel ones you had been gazing into for the last year, unmistakable hands with tattoos were firmly placed on the glass. His jaw was slack and his eyes were wide as he gawked through the glass. You began to shake as you drank in the sight of him, your chest tightened and you found it increasingly difficult to breathe. You wanted to run into his arms, but you weren’t sure if your legs would carry you. You couldn’t feel anything except the racing of you heart. Time seemed to still as you just stared at one another.

He was the first to break the gaze, tripping over himself in an attempt to reach the door. He forced the door open so forcefully that the bell nearly fell off, it didn’t stop him though. Running down the shopping aisle, pushing the racks aside as he continued towards you, knocking over a few clothing racks, not slowing down as he slammed into your open arms. The impact of the force sending the two of you tumbling to the ground, both of you gripping onto the other in fear they may disappear again. He could feel you shaking in his hold, overwhelmed with the entire situation, he kept his grip firm around you, letting you know that he is here and you are safe. He doesn’t plan on leaving you.

Finally managing to pull his face from the crook of your neck, you held his face in your hands, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. You weren’t aware you were crying until you felt his calloused hands brush away a stray tear from your cheek.

“It’s really you isn’t it?” You managed to choke out, you must have looked insane to the shopkeeper, both of you smiling and sobbing, curled up on his shop floor.

“Of course it’s me, nobody could recreate this amount of beauty and personality twice,” he joked and cracked a smile. That typical Klaus smile you missed so much. Even in a time like this, supposedly sentimental, he still had to get a wisecrack in.

“You’re such an idiot Klaus, only you could compliment yourself in a time like this,” you said, you weren’t sure if you were crying or laughing at this point, but you knew you were finally happy.

“I’ve had to do it myself for a while since you were absent,” he said, you couldn’t miss the subtle sadness that passed over his features.

“Come on then Y/N”, he groaned as he stood up, offering a hand to help you, “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

You glanced up at him before you accepted his hand, his hair was longer than before and he looked healthier, but he was undeniably still your Klaus. You placed you hand in his and let him drag you up, resting his arm around your waist, slightly tighter than he used to. You allowed your head to rest on his shoulder, re-familiarising yourself with his body. The two of you definitely had a long conversation ahead, you allowed him to drag you to the nearest diner, excited to unburden yourselves after finally finding each other.

#tua #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy x reader #tua imagine #tua x reader #tua fanfic #tua fanfiction #the umbrella academy fanfic #the umbrella academy fanfiction #klaus hargreeves fanfiction #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves fanfic #klaus hargreeves headcanon #tua headcanon #the umbrella academy headcanon

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tmabigbang · 3 years

Text

Masterpost of TMA Big Bang 2020 Fics

To prevent clogging up anyone’s dash, we have put all of these fics under a read more since there are 28 wonderful fics created for this bang, which makes for a bit of a long post! Below the cut are links and summaries to all the fics created for this bang!

In addition to this post, you can also check out our fic page (which you can find here)! The fic page includes links to all the fics, art, and the team members that helped create them! You can also use some basic filters for rating and oneshot/multichapter to find fics.

Thank you again to all our participants, and we will see you next year!

Your Job’s A Joke (You’re Broke) by @bisexualoftheblade and @desert-lily

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27590578

Summary: Working at the Magnus Institute was stressful by default. With monsters, mayhem, and potential primordial entities, it has very little expectations for being a comfortable job. However, everyone is allowed to have a little fun sometimes - even an archivist, their assistants, and their really creepy boss. Fueled by spite and a rampant lack of heterosexuality, they all try to balance their work life with a bit of fun and a healthy dose of bullying twelve-times divorced Elias Bouchard.

I Know The End by @williammatagot

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27947966

Summary: Except, for all that beautiful poetry, Eliot was wrong, because the world doesn’t end with a bang, sure, but it doesn’t end with a whimper, either. It ends with the distant-yet-deafening voice of the man Martin loves shouting through a ragged, wild throat--I open the door. (The world ends, Jon shatters, and Martin tries to fix it. The house tries, too, in its own way.)

From the Depth of the Spiral by @trickstergod14

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27842941

Summary: Michael had no idea what was going on. He suddenly woke up in the tunnels under the Magnus Institute with no memories of the past seven years after that fateful trip to Sannikov Land. Watch as he slowly spirals into madness, regaining his memories while strengthening his bond with the Distortion along the way. Can he hide all this from the other Archival Assistants? What will happen when Jon wakes up from his coma? And what does the newly crowned Distortion Avatar, Helen, have to do with all this?

Every Word I Say is Kindling (But The Smoke Clears When You’re Around) by @ohnoimdeathing

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27956897

Summary: The unknowing left Jon stirring in the nightmares of others, watching their torment and suffering and making everything worse. He wanted to wake up, to go back to Martin, Tim, Basira, even Daisy. But he didn’t know how to. Until a voice told him to choose Though, to be honest, he doesn’t remember actually making the choice to stay a monster and live rather than be human and die. The only injury the doctors will talk about is his missing eyes, and why are all the doctors Scottish? At least Martin is here.

Spinning ‘Round (like two sides of a coin) by @awayofunderstandingit

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27835756

Summary: Time is a construct. What we know as past, present, and future all exist at the same time, ad infinitum. • Guided not by time but a spoken word poem, follow along the lives of two intertwined souls, Timothy Stoker and Sasha James. The story of their friendship from the time they meet, through growing apart, to when they fall back together, and through their time working at the Magnus Institute. Witness slices of their lives—not memories, memories would suggest the past—as they exist, ad infinitum, even at The End.

retrouvailles by @jet-siquliak

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27818092

Summary: The Magnus Institute burns. The archivist, for all intents and purposes, burned with it. In a dingy hospital room lies what remains - Jonathan sims. weak, powerless, and insignificant. On Jon’s last day in the hospital, Martin awakes from a coma, unscathed. Melanie King kicks the dirt that once housed the institute. Tim stoker wakes up in the middle of nowhere. Elias Bouchard is dead. No one knows where to go from there. Or: the destruction of one home and the making of another.

Still, I’ll Always Keep the Memory by @revolutionnaire-e

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27932125

Summary: [MARTIN turns, stepping out of the shadows towards him. It is blood, not tears. His left eye is not his own. His eyes never shone that blinding green, never shone with such malice or self-satisfied pride.] MARTIN BLACKWOOD Pleasure to see you again, Archivist.

Making Home by @cuddlytogas

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27664805

Summary: After the events in the Panopticon, Jon and Martin rush to leave London. But making their home in an idyllic safe house isn't that easy: between the layer of dust, and Forsaken still clinging to Martin's heels, it could be some time before they reach an understanding.

called your name ‘til the fever broke by @corpsesoldier

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27845161

Summary: Basira made a promise to her partner. At the end of the world, a monster comes and demands she keep it.

assorted family photos by @lesbianbirds

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27903979

Summary: When setting off on a research trip, it is advised that you prepare yourself for certain oddities that may greet you. or; key moments in a world where the entities are weaker and everyone got a bit more therapy

Timothy Stoker’s Guide to Dating by @pezilla

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27841267

Summary: Timothy Stoker has a lot of advice when it comes to matters of the heart, online agony aunt, gossip monger and general love guru. He has a list and he sticks to it. Or he did. That was before he took a job at the Magnus Institute and before he met three of the most fascinating and frustrating people to ever come into his life. Rule #7 under no circumstances fall for a co-worker. Yeah, that rule was starting to become a problem.

Running the Institute by @drowsy-salamander

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27878306

Summary: Caroline Ferguson, the entirety of the Magnus Institute's legal department, is furiously ignoring any weirdness that could be going on in her workplace, from the tech issues to the vanishing colleagues to the everything about Artefact Storage, Caroline will turn a very deliberate blind eye. They're are not her problem. Now if only those murders could also stop.

kindred spirits (not so scarce as I used to think) by @pollylittlehigher-littlelower

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27914821

Summary: An Anne of Green Gables inspired AU, set in modern day England. Jon and Georgie are childhood best friends, but the two stop talking after a falling out. Even doing their best to avoid each other, Georgie struggles to escape him, even while dealing with her own mental health issues and a blossoming romance with her housemate, Melanie. Is Jon truly the kindred spirit she once considered him? Or will the two eventually part ways for good?

Friends of Empty Graves by @artswaps

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27974807

Summary: After the coffin, she cuts her hair. Who is Alice Tonner? People are searching for her in the space she left behind, in the person she was. Daisy looks elsewhere, and tries not to choke.

just let the feeling grow by @ajkal2

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27838447

Summary: Jon is a musician. He plays songs for a living. Except love songs. He doesn't do love songs, and he makes this quite clear with anyone interested in working with him. Except his manager has booked him for a wedding. Without asking. With days before the festivities start, Jon needs help. Desperately. He won't get it from his hosts, the Lukas family. He certainly won't get it from his manager. However, there's a certain amateur poet on the Lukas' staff who has a talent for making love sound genuine.

World Cold and Hard, Moth Boy Warm and Soft by @lcjenkinswriting

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27827491

Summary: Jon, a young moth fairy, leaves the nest in search of a place that feels like home

tapes winding forward by @ghostbustermelanieking

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27858721

Summary: Martin ignores him, stops him mid-sentence to say, "Jon, what have you heard about time travel?" --- Martin and Jon wake up two years in the future. It goes about as well as can be expected.

MAG 26.5: Beach Episode by @ebenrosetaylor

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27882746

Summary: Sasha is aware of the rising tensions in the archives after Martin was stalked by Prentiss and after she had her own encounter with Michael. In an attempt to boost morale and bring them closer together, Tim suggests that they all visit the beach to unwind and get their minds off of all things paranormal. Sasha takes it upon herself to make sure that everyone has fun and relaxes, but she forgets to give herself that luxury.

Rewrite The Rulebook by @radiosandrecordings

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27823774

Summary: "Panic! Bloody panic! I've been out since I was fifteen and never once actually brought someone home. I think I just wanted to seem like I had my life together, y’know? Mainly I just... I think I just wanted someone to be there with me, so I wasn't just alone with her the entire time. A bit of comfort.” There was pause as Martin let out a dramatic sigh, seemingly relieved to ramble out his thoughts. "... I could go with you. If you want."

A Test In Patience by @talking4the1

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27917749

Summary: Elias is going about his day as the new head of the Magnus Institute in 1995. Some spreadsheets to do, meetings to attend mundane and supernatural. Nothing seems out of place until The Eye calls him to Bournemouth.

Of Mothers and Memory by @loverdontleave

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27856585

Summary: There is a story to be told, of two people, a mother and a son. Of their history together, and the sacrifices they made for each other. Perhaps they loved each other once, but that thread of connection has weakened on one end, fraying away. And it is so, so cold.

Would That I Were Golden Dust by @that-one-girl-behind-you

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27734197

Summary: The world is a lot more dangerous with your soul walking by your side, and Entities aren’t shy about feeding on golden Dust.

Till Death, Parted by @bigowlenergy

Ao3 Link:https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27749680

Summary: Jon gets caught after ripping out Gerry’s page by Trevor & Julia, and through a comedy of errors ends up engaged as an excuse. Somehow, Jon gets out alive, Gerry is freed, and they have the two hunters accompanying them as bodyguards - and as best man and best woman - without a fight. Living alone in Gerry’s London safe house afterwards will be totally fine. Jon is fine. He knows what coping is and everything! Totally fine.

The Spoken Word by @drumkonwords

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802708/chapters/68066326

Summary: Jon wants. Their pinky twitches — stretching and curling to the tune of something musical. The song of wanting, with its motifs of long, low notes. Starting quiet and mumbling up into Jon’s chest until the strings of their heart vibrate like the strings of a double bass and all they can do is wonder who’s tune they’re matching. But they know.

First Aid by @platypik

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27948284

Summary: Jon is certain Martin has been acting strangely all morning. When Martin offhandedly mentions he took a bad tumble off the tube to work, Jon suddenly Knows that the fall had given Martin a nasty fracture. Despite his desperate pleading, Martin stubbornly refuses to let Jon drive him to the hospital. In fact, it seems he would much rather take care of it himself than have Jon worry and fuss over him. Jon would disagree.

Burning Bright, In the Forests of the Night by @triffidsandcuckoos

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27915400

Summary: The safehouse bursts into flames at their backs. You can choose to change the path. Just be ready for what else you might change.

i’ve been static for too long by @furryjefferson

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27887878

Summary: Jonathan Sims ends up with a stranger’s phone on the way home from work. All signs point to the Magnus Institute, and all roads lead to its mysterious archivist: Martin Blackwood.

through the clouds like a moonbeam by @digital-waterfall

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27877402

Summary: After passing through the Vast’s domain, Jon is left with an unexpected surprise-- a pair of wings. Unsurprisingly, Martin finds them beautiful. Also unsurprisingly, Jon does not.

#tma big bang 2020 #fic masterpost #the magnus archives #tma

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ohpedromypedro · 4 years

Text

To The Future

A/N: This is my first Dave York fic, so I hope you all enjoy it! It does switch between present and past tenses at parts. Mainly I write in present tense, but some of the fic is needed to be in past. Thoughts are in bold italics.

word count: 7.3k+ (oops?)

characters/pairing: Dave York x f!Reader, small appearance by Resnik, minor oc characters created for this fic.

warnings: angst, stalking, hiring/plotting for a murder, the actual murder, swearing, mentions of jealousy, adultery, mentions of failed marriage, mentions of divorce, possessive!Dave, rough smut, blow job (m receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), Daddy kink, etc.

Hiring a mercenary to get rid of someone for good was never something you thought you’d put at the top of your to do list, but with the man who’s been stalking you for several months now only getting worse, you decide enough is enough.

At first it started off with random bouquets of flowers showing up on your desk at work, noted that it was from a secret admirer. You were flattered at first, thinking it was harmless, but then things started to show up outside your apartment door, and immediately you knew something wasn’t right. Your building was a secure building and somehow this person was getting inside just to leave you gifts which you just threw in the trash anyway. No one except for your family knows where you live, so you knew someone had to be following you. And how right you were.

Occasionally you’ll go on evening jogs to sweat out the day’s stress, take a few laps around the block where your apartment is located before heading back home to shower and wash it all away. This particular night you decided to take a jog, you weren’t alone. You decided this time to take a jog through the park, switch your routine up a bit, but what you didn’t know was that your stalker was in that very park and when he spotted you, he started to follow you. Closely.

You were unaware at first, completely oblivious to the fact that someone was following behind you. It really didn’t help that you were wearing headphones with music almost at high volume either, so it was partly your fault for not being on high alert, especially knowing you had someone stalking you. After a few minutes of jogging through the park you really started to feel the unease creeping up on you, the hairs at the back of your neck starting to raise. That’s when you stopped and quickly spun around, your eyes searching the area but seeing nobody. You sighed and gave your head a small shake, silently scolding yourself for getting so easily worked up. You decided to turn your music off and just jog in silence for the rest of the way.

When you reached one of the exits of the park, you smiled when you saw an older woman with a doggy stroller standing there idly. She had a look on her face you couldn’t quite read, but when she spoke to you, you realized why she had that exact look on her face.

“I’m...sorry to bother you, but I’ve been walking along the outer edges of the park for a while and...there’s been a man following you pretty much since you started your jog.”

Your face fell and once again you found yourself turning around and looking, your heart rapidly beating in your chest while your eyes scanned the area. You still didn’t see anyone, but you trusted wholeheartedly that this woman was telling you the truth.

“Thank you. I...I had suspicions that I might have a stalker. Guess I was right.” You sighed and shook your head, looking at her with hopeful eyes. “Could… Could you maybe walk me home? It’s just around the corner, but--”

“I would be glad to.” She nodded and motioned for you to the lead the way, which you did. “You should call the authorities once you get home. I’ll be happy to stay and tell them what I saw since I am witness to the young man who was following you.”

“Yeah? That would be very kind of you. Perhaps it’ll be good to report it so it’s on record in case anything else happens.”

The woman nodded and smiled, walking along the semi quiet sidewalk while you led the way toward your apartment. You exchanged names during your walk home and even shared a little bit about yourselves. Turns out Marjorie, the kind woman escorting you home, was widowed and retired from the air force. When you finally reached your apartment, you helped her to carry the dog stroller up the small steps to the front entrance of the building. When you got inside and to your apartment door, you opened it and walked inside, stepping aside to allow her entrance into your cozy abode.

“Make yourself at home. Would you like some tea or coffee?” You smiled, closing the door and locking it before walking into the small kitchen.

“Some chamomile tea would be lovely, darling. Thank you.” She took her small dog out of its stroller and moved to sit down on the love seat in the living room.

“Chamomile tea it is,” you hummed, grabbing a cup and saucer and the box of teabags from the cabinet before setting them on the counter while you got your Keurig machine turned on.

Once the Keurig was ready to brew a nice cup of hot water for the tea, you put the tea bag in the cup and placed it on the small stand, pressing the smallest button and letting the machine brew. While you let the water fill the cup, you decided to use that time to dial the police station on your cell, moving to secretly peek through your kitchen curtains while it rang.

“911, what’s your emergency?” The calm voice of a woman answered.

“Uh hi, I’m just calling to report a stalking,” you chewed your lip, moving away from the window and leaning against the counter.

“You’re the one being stalked?” She asked calmly, already pulling a report up on her computer screen to type out everything you say.

“Yes ma’am. At first it was just little things. Bouquet of flowers being delivered to my office at work almost every day, but then whoever it is started leaving things outside my apartment door and only my family knows which exact apartment I live in, so I’m a little worried.” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “And just a few minutes ago while I was out on my nightly jog, I was told by a nice older woman just outside the park that she saw someone following behind me while I took my jog through. She ended up walking me home because I was nervous to walk alone and she offered to wait inside with me while I called you.”

“Okay sweetheart and would you like an officer or two sent out to get some more info regarding the man stalking you?”

“Yes please. I think she did get a good look at him, at least enough to give some sort of description.”

“Okay. I’ll have a car dispatched to your location soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So what exactly can you tell me about the man you saw, ma’am?” The officer that showed up just a few minutes after you hung up with the operator asked Marjorie who was sitting on your couch sipping her tea.

“Well, he had to be at least mid 30’s, looked like he could be one of those boys who still live in their mother’s basement. Tall, Caucasian, shoulder length blond hair, large square glasses, dressed in a long black trench coat.” She speculated, nodding as she tried to remember every detail of the man that she could. “He definitely looked like your typical creep. Skinny little thing.”

The officer only nodded, scribbling in his notepad as she listed off the details. He finally looked toward you after finishing jotting things down and shoving his notepad in his pocket.

“And for you, Miss Y/N, what would you like if we do find this stalker of yours?”

“I want a restraining order against the creep, that’s what. As a female living all by herself with no one or nothing to protect her, a restraining order is at least the better first option.”

“You got it. I’m gonna send my fellow officer waiting outside to search the premises as well as the park for the described person of interest. In the meantime, I’ll be outside searching the database for men with that description.”

“Thank you, officer.” You smiled, watching as he nodded his head and gave a small tip of his hat before leaving your apartment.

You sat down on the couch with a sigh, smile tugging at your lips when Marjorie’s dog came padding over to you with a wag of her tail, looking up at you with a smile of her own. You brought your hand down to give her a few pats and scratches behind the ear.

“Daisy likes you,” Marjorie smiled, setting her empty cup and saucer down on the coffee table. “Have you considered getting a dog of your own? Perhaps a nice Pitbull or bulldog.”

“Actually,” you laughed softly at that, giving your head a nod. “That’s not a bad idea after all. I’ll have to consider it.”

“You’ll thank me later,” she winked, moving to stand up from the love seat and grabbing the cup and saucer from the table. “I won’t impose for much longer, sweetheart. I think you deserve some rest after all this.”

“Thank you,” you gave her an appreciative smile, standing and following her into the kitchen. “I’m glad you made this process a lot easier for me. I would have had no idea where to even begin with a description of my stalker.” You shook your head and smiled at Marjorie when she walked back over to you after setting the cup and saucer in the sink.

“Of course. Anything to get another creep off the streets.” She mused as she scooped Daisy up from the floor and set her back in her stroller.

“Well, I’m grateful. You live close by?”

“About a five minute walk, sweetheart. I’ll be just fine, if you’re worried.”

“A little bit. I guess my nerves are just a little heightened.” You shrugged, smiling when she put a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll be just fine.”

You could only nod, quickly saying your goodbyes to Marjorie and Daisy before letting them out of your apartment. You closed the door once they were down the hall and immediately locked it, leaning against it with an exasperated sigh. You hoped the police could find your stalker and arrest him for being a creep and that a restraining order could be put in place to keep him as far from you as possible. You didn’t think you could put up with this any longer.

Days went by and you still heard nothing, absolutely nothing from the police department regarding your stalker. Not a single follow up call, visit or any info at all for that matter about whether they found out who the guy was. Of course now the situation was only getting worse. There were nights where you swore you could hear someone trying to pick the lock to your apartment door, but since you’re smart, you locked the doorknob, deadbolt, and chain lock. And fortunately for you, it prevented whoever it was from getting in. You weren't entirely safe, though. Not only did this man know where you worked and lived, but he was somehow getting into a secure building. There wasn't a place you could go to hide yourself from him. If anything he’d just find you wherever you went and that’s what scared you most. You didn’t know what this man’s intentions were, for all you knew, they were far from harmless. No stalkers intentions are harmless in the end.

That’s what brings you to your current situation, calling your cousin Resnik who you know is a mercenary now since he was let go from his previous job with the DIA. He told you to call him for emergencies only and you figure having a stalker trying to break into your apartment multiple nights in a row is good enough a reason to call him.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” Your cousin’s voice is monotonous on the other end of the line and you sigh.

“I need a favor.”

“A mercenary one?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“I’m booked.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Res?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You told me to call you for emergencies and this is one.”

“Again, I have tons of jobs booked.”

“I’m family.”

“I’m aware of that,” he states. “But I really can’t. Not right now, at least.”

“Resnik, I have a fucking creep stalking me. He’s only been getting worse and I don’t know how much longer until he successfully breaks into my damn apartment.” You’re spitting your words at this point, anger boiling over the fact that your own cousin is blowing you off.

“How long has this been going on? The stalking”

“Months.”

“Has the guy actually made contact with you?”

“Clearly he’s trying to since he’s been trying to break into my apartment.”

“Do you feel safe at all?”

“No!” You snap.

“Calm down,” he grumbles. “I’ll send my buddy Dave to deal with this guy for you, okay? Just explain to him everything that’s happened and he’ll figure something out for you.”

“Alright,” you sigh, slumping onto your couch. “I trust whoever you send me.”

“Good. I’ll have him be there within the next day or so, can you handle that?”

“Yeah, yeah. I can handle another day of this fuckwad. Thanks Res.”

You hang up before he even gets the chance to respond, tossing your cell phone onto the coffee table in front of you. You rub your hands down your face and groan to yourself, hoping this Dave guy can actually rid this stalker of yours. For good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re in the kitchen making yourself a rum and Coke when the buzzer to your apartment goes off. Biting your lip, you shuffle over to the intercom on the wall and press the talk button.

“Yes?”

“Y/N? My name’s Dave York. Resnik sent me.”

“Thank God.” You groan, pushing the button to buzz him into the building and anxiously waiting for him to get to your apartment door.

When the knock finally sounds on the door, you bite your lip and undo the locks, hesitantly pulling it open. Your eyes are met with a middle aged man, probably early to mid forties if you had to guess, and he’s for sure a sight for sore eyes. Dark hair that you wish you could just run your fingers through, deep brown eyes to match which you know he’s been through and seen some shit in his days. When his gaze finally lands on you when your door opens, he straightens his shoulders, taking in every inch of your form as he stands just outside the threshold of your door. He thought his wife was beautiful, but you? You are absolutely stunning and just standing here in front of you is stirring up some adulterous thoughts in his mind.

“Didn’t realize anyone related to Resnik could be so breathtaking.” Dave chuckles softly, smirking at the way your cheeks go red. “You sure you’re related to him?”

“Unfortunately,” you bite your lip and sigh dramatically, stepping aside and motioning for him to come inside. “Please, come in. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

“Quite right,” he smiles, his eyes doing one more sweep over you before he steps inside.

You’re flushed by the time you close the door and relock all the locks, giving your lip a hard bite from the way his eyes raked over you just moments prior before internally shaking your head and turning around to face him.

“Would you like something to drink, Dave? I was just making myself something when you arrived.” You muse, making your way into the kitchen where you finish pouring your drink.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” he hums, letting his eyes linger on you longer than he would anyone else he talks to.

“Bacardi and Coke it is then,” you smile, grabbing another glass and making a drink for Dave.

“A Bacardi girl, huh? At least you’ve got taste.”

“I suppose so,” you smirk, walking over to where he’s standing and handing him the glass. “Enjoy.”

“Thank you,” he winks, taking a quick sip of his drink and letting out a satisfied hum. “Mmmm delicious. Now,” he says softly, placing his free hand at the small of your neck. “Let’s sit so you can tell me all about this stalker of yours, yeah?”

“Of course,” you smile, grabbing your rum and Coke before leading him to the living room to sit on the long couch.

When you sit, Dave sits right beside you, setting his drink on the table just as you do before facing you and giving you his full attention.

“Does your stalker have a name?” He asks, watching while you shake your head.

“Nameless and only kind of faceless?” You question, more to yourself than anything. “The older woman who saw him following me around the park during my jog a couple of nights ago said he’s a tall white male with shoulder length blond hair. He was wearing a black trench coat at the time, but who knows if he wears the thing all the time.”

“And does the description sound familiar to anyone you might know?”

“No,” you sigh. “I barely know anyone around here. I only just moved in a year ago and I’m not exactly the social type when it comes to associating with neighbors. I’m here to live, not make friends.”

“Understandable,” he chuckles, picking up his drink again. That’s when you finally spot the wedding ring on his left hand. What a shame. He takes a sip before setting the glass back down. “So tell me more. How did this whole thing start?”

“Well, at first it was just flowers showing up on my desk at work with a simple note, nothing too extreme, but then whoever the fuck this is started leaving things outside my apartment door. How he’s getting into a secure building in which you need a key or a buzz to get in, I have no idea. But I’m scared, Dave. The past few nights I could hear someone trying to pick the lock on my door to get in. I don’t know what this man’s intentions are, but clearly they aren’t good ones. Maybe in his mind they are, but not mine.”

“Do you think it could be someone living in the building? Perhaps a creepy neighbor trying too hard to get in bed with you?” You laugh at that.

“Honestly I may have considered it, but I’ve seen many of the people who live here, none of them fit the description of my little stalker friend here.” You roll your eyes, picking up your drink and taking a nice long chug. Dave watches with semi raised brows and a smirk.

“So I’m assuming you want the guy gone for good.” He states, watching you closely.

“Please,” you plead as you set your glass back down, your eyes practically begging for it when you look back over at him. Dave smiles at the sweet sound of your begging voice, slowly raising his hand to rest against your cheek while his now intent gaze is set on your pleading one.

“I will gladly rid the planet of this guy for you, Y/N. We’ll just need to figure out how to track him down or lure him out, for that matter.” His thumb grazes your cheek and you can feel your face burning up again, giving your bottom lip a small bite.

Dave notices that and it only spurs him on even more, his eyes tracing over each inch of your beautiful face before finally landing on your lips and lingering there, his thumb brushing along your bottom one. All those adulterous thoughts come swarming through his head once again and though he knows it’s wrong to be wondering what it would look and feel like to have those pretty plump lips of yours wrapped around his cock, with the fact that his wife never goes down on him, he doesn’t really care. He’s only with her still because of his daughters, things haven’t been going quite well for him and Carol for a while. Maybe you’re the change he needs, the thing that will help him out of the marriage he feels so trapped in.

“Dave?” You whisper breathlessly, not even realizing that the both of you have inched even closer to each other, too lost in the burn of his touch and the way his eyes hungrily take you in.

“Y/N...” He murmurs right back, giving his own lips a lick before bringing his eyes back up to meet your gaze.

“I-- You’re-- Fuck it,” you sigh, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him hard, allowing him to pull you onto his lap as he kisses you with as much fervor in return.

His hands rest on your ass so he can pull your hips flush against his own, eliciting a surprised gasp from you when you feel something hard pressing against your clothed core. I really make him that hard? As if he read your mind, he groans.

“Feel how hard you’ve made me? Just thinking about how good those lips would look and feel wrapped around my cock…”

“Dave,” you gasp again, instinctively rocking yourself against his rock hard cock. The action makes him growl and immediately his fingers are digging into your firm ass cheeks.

“Tell me you want this.” He states, his tone stern and bathed in seriousness.

“I want this. I want… I’ll do anything you want me to.”

His whole demeanor changes at that very statement, his hand coming down on your ass for a hard slap before he flips the two of you so that you’re now sitting on the couch in front of him and he’s standing between your legs. A quiet yelp left you at his sudden slap to your ass and when you’re finally staring up at him once he’s settled between your thighs, you give your bottom lip a bite.

“Look at you…so willing to let a struggling married man do whatever he wants to you.” He smirks, brushing his fingers through your hair before wrapping it around his fist and giving your head a tug backward. “Open your mouth.” You do as he says, letting your tongue hang out in the process. “Good girl.” He smirks, dropping his free hand to start undoing his belt.

Your walls clench around nothing at his praising words, eyes trained on the way his hand quickly gets his belt undone along with the zipper of his slacks. You bring your hand up to stop him from going any further, giving your eyelashes a few bats.

“Let me…” You murmur, moving his hand away before bringing yours back up to yank down his pants, freeing his fully erect cock. Your head spins at the sheer size of him. “Oh…” You bite your lip. Hard.

“Mouth,” he gains the attention of your gaze again, fingers tightening in your hair. “Open.”

You do as he tells you, reopening your mouth and letting your tongue hang out once more. He rubs the swollen head of his cock along your tongue and lets out a low, pleased groan at the warm feeling, his lips parting while he slowly pushes his hips forward until his cockhead just barely brushes the back of your throat. Your cheeks are hollowed out around him now, your hands giving his thighs a small squeeze as you swallow around the head of his cock.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his lust blown gaze staring down at your mouth wrapped around his length. “Haven’t felt a mouth this good since before I married my wife.” You hum around him, wondering how in the world his wife doesn’t suck this big delicious cock? “And I was right too…those lips of yours look and feel so damn good wrapped around my cock.”

“Mmmm…” You moan around him, pulling back as you give a hard suck before taking him right back down your throat, purposely gagging around him.

“Goddamn,” he groans, bringing his other hand down to hold your head in place while he starts rocking his cock in and out of your mouth, keeping aim for the back of your throat since clearly you enjoy the thrill of choking and gagging around him. “You like this, don’t you? The feeling of my cock in and down your throat.”

“Mmhmmm…” You moan, your eyes still set on his dark gaze as he fucks your mouth and throat, your hand moving to rub at your clothed cunt for some sort of relief. You can feel how wet you are just from having him in your mouth.

“What’s that sweetheart? Does that poor little cunt need relief? Is having my cock down your throat turning you on?” He growls, basking in the glory of the sight before him, his cock twitching at the feeling of your whimpery moan vibrating through his length.

“Mmm…” You nod your head as best that you can with his cock buried down your throat, your eyes starting to roll toward the back of your head.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck and fill that needy little cunt with my cock?” He smirks, yanking you off his length before pulling you up from the couch by his grip on your hair. When you only answer him with a nod of your head after he pulls you off his cock, he grabs your chin with a growl. “Use your words.”

You open your mouth to speak until you hear the sound of your doorknob being turned and fiddled with, looking toward the door with wide eyes. You look back up at Dave after a moment and he’s only smirking wider, moving his hand from your chin and down between your thighs to palm at your drenched, clothed cunt.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, your stalker will hear how good I make you feel.” He rasps so low it makes your heart jump in your chest and your cunt clench once more. He feels the way your cunt moves beneath his hand and it only proves to him that you really really want this. “Yeah, he’s going to regret ever stalking you.”

Dave immediately rips your shorts right off of you, the quick sudden action making your eyes go wide. The strength. His hand moves to slap right against your drenched cunt, which makes you moan out and silently thank the gods for deciding to wear a g-string today.

“Fuck, you are a sexy little thing, aren’t you? So wet and ready for me.”

“Daddy, please.” The words slip from your lips before you can correct yourself, immediately flushing when realization dawns on you. The pleased look in Dave’s eyes, though, proves that perhaps maybe your mistake isn’t a mistake at all.

“Tell Daddy what you want, baby.” He hums as he gives your folds a few rubs, earning himself a few small whimpers.

“I want you to...to claim my little cunt so my stalker can hear and know he’ll never have me the way you do…” You whisper for only him to hear, your gaze set on his own.

Dave only groans, pushing you back onto the couch and moving you into a lying position, quickly yanking your g-string off and shoving them into the pocket of his button up shirt. You bite your lip at that, watching as he climbs above you with his knees resting on each side of your hips, his cockhead pressing right at your entrance. You quickly wrap your legs around him, lips parting with a long moan as he slowly pushes forward and lets your walls swallow each thick inch of his length.

“That’s it, baby…moan for Daddy... What a tight little cunt you have, fuck.” He groans, stilling once he’s buried to the hilt inside of you and allowing your tight walls to adjust to him stretching you.

“You’re--” You moan, squeezing around him like a vice. “So fucking big, Daddy.”

“Fuck, no cunt has ever squeezed me this good before.” He drops his head to bury his face against the crook of your neck, slowly pulling his hips backward before pushing right back in hard, earning himself a nice loud moan from you. “You take my cock so well, beautiful girl.”

“Oh Daddy, yes! Fuck me j-just like that.” You moan, rocking yourself against him. Dave growls and immediately sets a quick hard pace, eliciting several elongated moans from you.

“Only Daddy can fuck you this good, huh babygirl? No one could ever fill you the way I do.” He purposely speaks in a tone of voice loud enough for your little secret visitor outside the door to hear. If only you could see the rage and jealousy that takes over in your stalker’s eyes, the way his fists clench at his sides.

“O-Only you, Daddy! Only you!” You cry out the deeper he sends his cock inside of your warm cavity, your legs wrapping tighter around him.

“That’s right. Only,” hard thrust against your cervix. “I,” another hard thrust. “can,” harder thrust with loud cries of pleasure from you. “fuck,” more hard thrusts. “you.” deeper harder thrusts.

“Yes yes yes!” You practically sob out your words, your orgasm quickly building inside of you from how damn good Dave is fucking you. This was definitely not how you expected hiring a mercenary to take out your stalker to turn out, but are you complaining? Hell fucking no. “D-Don’t stop! Oh please don’t stop!”

“Who said I was going to stop?” He smirks, nipping and sucking at the pulse point of your throat while keeping the same pace and force of thrusts. “Are you going to cum, baby?”

“Mmmm yeah!” You cry out, your arms wrapping tight around his middle while your nails claw at his back through his shirt, your head tilting sideways to grant him better access to your sensitive throat. “‘m s-so close.”

“Yeah? Gonna drench every inch of Daddy’s cock?” He rubs circles as fast and hard on your clit as his thrusts into your throbbing cunt, your head flying back with a loud cry of his name at the new feeling.

“Oh yes!” You moan, giving your walls another clench around his cock as your hips now rock against his own to match his pace.

“Fuck, squeeze me just like that baby.” He groans, going right back to nipping and sucking at your throat while continuing to coax you toward your release.

“Please,” you gasp, closing your eyes tight as you try to focus all your attention and energy on his thrusts and rubs to your swollen nub. “Please fill my tight, warm little cunt with your cum.”

“Yeah?” He growls, snapping his hips with even more force now, the two of you moaning loud in unison. “Want me to really claim this cunt?”

“Yes! It’s--” your moans deepen the harder his cock hits at your cervix, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “--yours!”

“Fuck,” he hisses, grabbing you by the throat with the hand not rubbing your clit and moving to kiss you hard, swallowing your cries and moans of pleasure the more relentless his thrusts become. “Cum for me. Now.” He orders and right on cue, you cum hard, your orgasm crashing right into you and making you writhe and tremble beneath him. Your eyes are truly rolled back now from the tightness of his hold on your throat and you’re absolutely loving it. “Fuck me, you are the most beautiful little thing when you come undone for me. Where the fuck were you before I met my wife?” He groans, kissing you hard once more.

His words make your heart leap in your chest again, wondering if he truly means them or if he’s just saying them to help get the both of you off. What’ll happen between the two of you once your stalker is ridden from your life? Will it be as if this night never happened? Will Dave look at you as nothing more than just a one time fuck and that girl he saved from a stalker?

“Y/N,” he groans deeply, snapping you from your thoughts and bringing you back to reality, pleased groan leaving your throat when you realize he’s filling you with his cum.

“Dave,” you gasp against his mouth, clenching harder and harder around him to milk his balls for all the cum in the world, your arms and legs wrapped tighter around him. “Oh yes.”

“That’s it, baby… Take all that cum. Fuck you are such a damn good girl.” He growls, continuing to fuck the both of you through your highs and his cum even deeper inside of you, going right back to kissing and nipping along your throat.

The two of you are panting by the time he finally pulls out of you, your limbs loosening from around him and falling limp to the couch you lay out on. He chuckles at how fucked out you look, but if he’s to look in a mirror at any moment, he’ll see that he himself is just as fucked out looking as you are. Your eyes are closed as the after effects of your orgasm finally pass, only opening them to look up at him when he gives your throat a firm squeeze. You moan at the feeling which only makes him smile.

“Y/N…” He murmurs quietly, moving his hand from around your throat to brush a few stray strands of hair from your face.

“Dave?” You whisper, giving your bottom lip a soft bite.

“After I rid you of your little pest,” he mumbles, obviously referring to your stalker in case he’s still out there listening. He’s not. “If I divorce my wife--”

“Yes.” You cut him off, already knowing what he’s going to ask.

“Really?” He grins, brushing the backs of his fingers against your cheekbone. “You sure you can handle this life?”

“What? Spending it with a mercenary?” You murmur, smiling up at him as he nods. “Would I have had my cousin send you if I couldn’t handle it?”

“True,” he chuckles, kissing you once more. “You truly are what I need to get out of my marriage once and for all. Don’t get me wrong, I love my daughters, but I don’t love Carol. Not anymore, at least. Not for a long time.”

“I’m sorry.” You frown. He only shakes his head, giving you a genuine smile.

“Don’t be. You’re not the reason my marriage is fucked and fallen apart. Her and I are. We just...don’t work out anymore. We’ve built up our issues with each other over the years.”

“Issues that can be fixed through divorce?” You smile.

“Precisely. We’re just...not cut out to be a couple any longer,” he sighs, kissing you once more before carefully climbing off of you and admiring the view of your mixed releases dripping from your fucked hole. “Such a beautiful sight… One I don’t get to see often.”

“Glad I can change that for you, Mister York.”

He smirks at the name, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the side of your knee.

“Now, let’s get cleaned up and get a plan set in stone to off your stalker.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Dave asks with a concerned look in his eyes and you give him a reassuring nod.

“I’ll be fine…” You whisper, reaching up to brush your thumb against his cheek. “It’s best to use me as bait, seeing as I’m the target. We’ve got this…”

“Okay,” he nods, pulling you in for a deep kiss before slowly pulling back and pressing his forehead against yours. “I’ll be down the alleyway we discussed hiding out and waiting. You remember which one, yes?”

“Yes,” you smile, nodding your head with reassurance. “Got the whole plan right up here.” You give your head a few light taps with your pointer finger.

“Good. I’ll see you in roughly ten minutes.” He smiles. “Please, be careful and on high alert.”

“I will,” you murmur, pressing a quick, soft peck to his lips. “See you in ten.”

He nods and you let him out of your apartment, waiting at least two minutes before leaving yourself and locking up behind you. Dave figured having you go on your usual jogging route would be the best plan, since there are several dark alleyways along the way that’ll be easy to lure your stalker down. If the guy is so intent on having you, why not follow you down a dark empty alley. If only he knew the outcome.

You start your jog down your street with a quiet hum, only one of your earbuds in while you listen to music so you can keep somewhat of an ear out for anyone around you. It’s only after five minutes that you start to hear and feel someone close behind you. Swallowing your fear, you continue your walk toward your destination and when you finally reach the alleyway where Dave is hiding and waiting for your arrival, you turn down it with a soft sigh of relief, making your way down the dark, damp corridor.

You pass where Dave is hiding and when he sees someone in a long black trench coat following right behind you, his fingers tighten around the handle of his knife, ready to make his move if the guy tries anything on you. He wants to wait at least a minute to see what his intentions are, see if he’s sick enough to lay a finger on you.

You feel a hand grab you by the shoulder and immediately pin you to the stone wall of the building beside you, looking up at the dark eyes of your stalker for the first time. You swallow hard, fighting back the urge to scream since you know Dave is right there waiting for the right moment to attack. The man is definitely exactly how Marjorie described, right on the nose, really.

“Can I help you?” You finally gain the courage to ask, a bit of disgust in your tone as you look up at him. He’s too close in your personal bubble for your liking and you swear you can smell the garlic and Camel cigarettes on his breath. “Do you always push random women against walls in dark alleys?”

“I’ve been waiting for this day for so long…” He breathes, kind of a wheezy breath, clearly ignoring your question. His hand moves to gently touch your cheek and immediately you turn your face away from him, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You don’t need to deny me, Y/N...not anymore.” His other and slides along your inner thigh and you quickly slap at his hand.

“Don’t touch me.” You growl, looking back up at him with a death glare. “I don’t belong to you. I’m not your property.”

“Yes you are,” he smiles a creepy smile at you, his hand going right to grabbing your clothed core a little too roughly.

“Hey! I said don’t--”

Your words are cut off as Dave comes and yanks the guy away from you, one of his hands holding a rag and moving it to cover the guy’s mouth to muffle any screams he may make while his other hand repeatedly jabs his knife into the guy’s side and chest. You watch as his eyes widen with every stab of the knife into his torso, part of you enjoying the sight of his pain and the muffled sound of his screams. Is this too much? Killing a man for being a creep? Perhaps not too much because you already know that if you don’t kill him, there’s a possibility he’ll go and find someone else to stalk and potentially harm after Dave takes you away from this entire situation. You’re looking forward to it, really, being free from this city and it’s creeps and you’re happy to be ridding it of one.

“Sorry to say, bud, but you made the wrong life choices.” Dave growls in your stalker’s ear, giving one more hard stab into the guy’s stomach before slicing sideways to gut him, letting his body fall to the ground with a hard thud. “No one touches my girl like that.”

“Oh, Dave…” You whisper, looking from the lifeless body of your once was stalker to your new lover’s slowly diminishing murderous gaze, giving him a smile and earning yourself one right back. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, beautiful girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good afternoon, miss Y/N,” the soft, sad tone of your now previous landlord’s voice meets your ears as you exit the apartment building, giving her a small frown.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Patterson. Is everything okay?” You ask her, adjusting the last box of your things from your apartment beneath your arm.

“Oh no, honey, unfortunately I can’t say it is.” She sighs, shaking her head with a lost gaze. “I lost someone close to me a few weeks ago…it still aches my heart just thinking about it. My poor nephew was mugged and left for dead in an alley a few blocks from here. I told that boy not to go messing around with the people around here since he was wired a little differently and could easily trigger the wrong group of people… I suppose I was right.”

Your blood runs cold at her words, everything now all making sense in your head about how this guy was getting into your building. Instead of saying anything at all relating to her nephew’s death you only shake your head and frown, giving her your condolences either way.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Mrs. Patterson. I guess some people around here just can’t handle a little difference.”

“Unfortunately so,” she nods, looking up at you with a sad smile. “You take care though, okay sweetheart? And good luck on that new job opportunity you got. If you ever need anything once you get moved into your new place, don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Patterson. You take care yourself.” you smile, giving her a small hug before walking over to where Dave is parked with his trunk open and giving Mrs. Patterson a small wave goodbye, placing the box in the back of his SUV and closing the back door. You quickly climb into the passenger seat and close the door behind you, turning to look at Dave with a tight, nervous smile. “Get us the fuck out of here and I’ll explain everything on the way.”

“Okay?” He chuckles, putting the vehicle in gear before pulling away from the sidewalk and starting your several hour drive far away from here. Once you’re far from your previous apartment building you breathe out a relieved sigh, turning and looking at Dave with wide eyes.

“That woman, my previous landlord...is the aunt of my now dead stalker.”

“Get out. For real?” He asks, glancing over at you with raised brows.

“Yeah. She told me how her nephew was found mugged and murdered in an alley a few blocks away…”

“That explains how he was getting into the building and even found you to start stalking you.”

“It all makes sense now, yeah.” You sigh, reaching over to rest your hand on top of his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you again for everything. I truly don’t know where I’d be without your and your help…”

“How many times do I gotta tell you, baby, you don’t need to thank me anymore,” he chuckles, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Now that my divorce is final, I’m excited to start a new life with you...a safer and more happy life.”

“Me too, Dave. Me too,” you whisper, leaning over to press a quick, firm kiss to his cheek. “To the future.”

“To the future,” he grins.

Everything taglist: @halefirewarrior @takemepedropascal @wildcard566 @readsalot73 @talesfromtheguild @msmona @oberynispunk @whiskeyxinxaxteacup @pedrosdoll @ah-callie

#dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x y/n #dave york x f!reader #dave york fic #dave york smut #nsft #dave york #the equalizer 2 #equalizer 2 #my writing #ohpedromypedro

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peepspersonalperspective · 4 years

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MY PICKS: Top 10 K-Dramas

Disclaimer: These are totally subjective choices and I've justified them as per my preferences. Consider them friendly recommendations and let me know if you disagree. Also, I've discovered the wonderful world of K-Dramas over the last couple of years and they've really evolved not just in storytelling but also production value so I personally prefer the more recent ones. So for example I haven't put a very popular pick like My Love from the Star simply because I've seen better stuff since (don't shoot me). Anyway, 가자!

MEMORIES OF ALAHAMBRA

This is my first recommendation for anyone who's just starting out watching Korean television content simply because it's so different from what new viewers expect it to be. It's so gripping and thrilling. I would expect nothing less from Song Jae Jung's writing.

So it's a sci-fi show, set in Spain, about an augmented reality game, that seems to have physical implications in the real world, sending the lead, Hyun Bin on a rollercoaster ride to find answers. Exo's Chanyeol has a recurring role as the game developer, so that's exciting too. I learnt that he was cast because of his love for PubG. Lol.

Every episode will leave you wanting more, and you'll find yourself as desperate to search for answers as Yoo Jin Woo (Hyun Bin).

Granted, mid season, it gets a little complicated, especially with newer nuances of the game unfolding, but fret not because the characters are discovering the secrets of the game with you. So they're as confused as you would be, and that's why this show is so good! More so because the graphics are excellent! You can tell they really spent money on ensuring high quality work. You will really feel like you're part of the game with Yoo Jin Woo.

Anyway, if you are an EXO-L, or you like gaming, sci-fi, thriller and Hyun Bin, this show is great!

2. W - Two Worlds

Another piece of awesome from Song Jae Jung. I would still rank this show a little below Alahambra, because I think the makers made improvements from this sci-fi drama in Alahambra, in the sense of storytelling. Still, W is just as intriguing.

Oh Yeon Joo (Han Hyo Joo) gets sucked into a comic book where she falls in love with the lead character of the comic book, Kang Chul (Lee Jeong Suk). Sounds like a typical romance drama right? Don't be fooled because there are many many twists and turns along the way.

I feel like there is metaphor in there somewhere about existentialism, the creation and destiny. But maybe that's just me reading into things.

Lee Jeong Suk is extremely desirable as Kang Chul, unsuspectingly charming and endearing, and Oh Yeon Joo is an absolutely relatable character, and how she deals as an ordinary girl thrown into extraordinary circumstances is genuine.

I would say this drama is wholesome, with sci-fi, suspense, thriller, action, romance, filial relationships, and more. And while it's usually difficult to jam pack all this into one show without screwing it up, W emerges exceptional.

3. Extraordinary You

This show is so cute! If you want just a light hearted, quirky show, this is the one for you.

It's about characters in a cartoon becoming aware of their existence in a cartoon. But don't worry this is NOTHING like W.

The best part about the show is that it's not about the main characters of the said cartoon. It's the story about the extras finding their way in that world, hence the pun intended in the title. The main characters (of the cartoon) are actually the most dull, because they are bound by the laws of stereotypical high school romance. But the real stuff is happening on the sidelines, with Kim Hye Yoon as Dan Oh and Rowoon as Haru.

Dan Oh is a hilarious character and Kim Hye Yoon does a fantastic job of switching emotions when she's in and out of a scene in the cartoon. One minute she goes into character mode, next minute she's bitching at the sorry fate of her character when she wakes up, to the astonishment of the characters surrounding her (who aren't aware of their reality yet).

Rowoon has a quiet charm about him that perfectly complements Hye Yoon. Check it out for a chuckle and a taste of something different.

4. Crash Landing on You

This show is hard not to like. Apart from the poorly picturized tornado carrying our leading lady over the border to North Korea, this show is a wonderful Netflix and Chill kind of show, I think.

The cultural disparity between the South and North is interesting to watch and also entertaining. Like when they mention buying mobile games at an App store (a literal application store in a Pyongyang market).

Ri Jung Hyuk (Hyun Bin again) and Yoon Seri (Son Yejin) are such a delight in comedic, romantic, and dramatic scenes. But the scene stealer for me was Yang Kyun Won as Pyo Chi Soo, and his unshakeable nationalism that he is ready to set aside for some shampoo and conditioner.

The interesting thing is going into the show, you have an idea of the longevity, so ofcourse, Seri's journey back to the South ain't going to be easy, also her relationship with Ri Jung Hyuk is doomed, and yet you find yourself rooting for them at each step, crying with them during their failures and crying with them even in their triumph. But the most tears were shed for the least expected character, who simply left us all heart broken.

5. Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo

In a world where women are expected to behave and look a certain way to be considered attractive by someone they're vying for, here's a food hogging, tomboy, weightlifting champ, with her first crush.

The premise may rope you into the show, but midway you realise that the heart of the show is in its characters, and without realising you become so invested in them that you feel their fears, insecurities, and cherish their victories with them.

This coming of age show really relishes on the quirks of each character, friendship, love and aspirations. It's not a very dramatic story which is probably why it didn't rate very high during its broadcast, but that's part of its charm, and that's why it's been able to gather a significant cult following since.

Lee Sung Kyung and Nam Joo Hyuk portray the most sincere friends and eventual couple. Their relationship blossoms in the most organic manner and it's so heartwarming. They're not cheesy or unrealistic; they even beat each other up! I don't think I've seen that level of comfort portrayed on screen so well before.

Watch out for guest appearances by Ji Soo and Lee Jeong Suk.

6. Strong Girl Do Bong Soon

I'll be honest, this recommendation is mainly for Park Hyung Sik. He's amazing in the show. And there could be no better supernaturally strong petite girl than Park Bo Young, either.

So there are actually a lot of things happening in the show, story wise, but I promise it all comes together in the end. There is quite a build up and I'm happy that it pays off adequately.

This is like a superhero show with all the spices and flavours of a Marvel movie, but K-Drama style. There's an invincible villain, some idiot gangsters for comedic value, romance (a love triangle infact), functional training, a point of lost hope for Bong Soon, and then her resurrection as a superhero.

It's all there, and more.

But Park Hyung Sik.....

7. Itaewon Class

This recommendation is simply for the refreshing change of representation on TV. I know a lot has already been spoken about it already, but I have to admit that that's what sets this revenge drama apart. That, and the music. Dayum, Start by Gaho is so catchy! And let's not forget V's Sweet Night.

This show starts off slow but give it 3 episodes before it gets to the real shit.

Park Saeroyi is almost too good to be true, and in that lies his shortcoming. His character is so strong that while watching him I forgot that Park Seo Joon was acting. And despite some unnerving moments I found myself rooting for him. He has some strong motivational lines too, like about his choice for a better life. His determination is almost unreal, as he goes on to take down his mortal enemy.

Some of the best scenes, though, are of Jo Yi Seo (Kim Dami), a sociopathic enterprising genius. She was the one who actually kept me hooked to the series. She added some much needed flair to the show, and as it appears to Park Saeroyi's establishment.

Actually, every character was strong, every character had a strong backstory and motivation for the action, and most importantly they never broke character.

Watch out for Park Bo Gum's special appearance.

8. Love In The Moonlight

Speaking of Park Bo Gum...

This show is all kinds of weird in the best way! A girl pretends to be a palace eunuch and falls in love with the crown Prince. That is so messed up!

But that's the fun part! And Park Bo Gum and Kim You Jung make it a wonderful ride. Full of quirky romance, political conflicts and hidden identity issues, this show is addictive af!

And even though this wasn't in the show and was just a promo, be sure to watch Park Bo Gum's Bombastic dance. It's adorable!

9. The Third Charm

I'm sure this is my least popular recommendation. But something about watching this show was so cathartic. I highly recommend it for those who may have gone through heartbreak ever in their lives.

This is probably one of those rare times when I was lost in the story instead of Seo Kang Jun's eyes. Hehe. This story is about an on again off again couple and their journey through life together and apart.

This was meant to be a healing drama, and it really does take you through the emotional evolution that comes with growing up. I think it's the perfect medicine for a healing heart.

10. It's Okay Not To Be Okay

This show! This is my current obsession. Kim Soo Hyun's comeback couldn't have been more perfect. Seo Yeji couldn't have been a more perfect casting. And the two leads couldn't have had a better chemistry.

This show is all kinds of whimsical and I love it. Also a healing drama, this show deals with.... Baggage....to put it simply. Some baggage may be bigger than other baggage, some even irrevocable. But seeing all the characters overcome this baggage is so fulfilling.

But the charm of this show is in Ko Moon Young's (Seo Yeji) craziness and the Tim Burton-esque setup, that really makes one perceive fairytales in a whole new way. I mean I always knew that fairytales were sanitized German folklore, but I never thought to find a very different messaging from the material. The parables are ingenious, and it really is a pleasure to watch each and every person on this show.

Special mentions: Goblin, Reply 1988, 30 but 17/ Still 17, My ID is Gangnam Beauty, Hotel Del Luna

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an0nymousghost · 3 years

Text

simblr asks v2

here are my answers! find the questions here.

i wrote soo much ahaha. like however much you think i wrote, i wrote more than that. imo everything i write is gold though

1. are you going to buy the new pack (cottage living) when it comes out? no, it looks really nice but i legit never ever buy packs at launch, especially cause this one is a expansion and it will probably go on sale at some point

2. do you p*rate your dlc or buy it legitimately? buy it legitimately 👌

3. what’s your favorite world? brindleton bay, it gives like seaside cottage vibes. willow creek is good but it’s boring.

4. if you use a queue, how many posts per day do you set it as? 3 or 4. i used to do like 12 lmaoo what even was wrong with me

5. do you watch sims on youtube? yes, i watch mainly malixa, oshinsims, and msgryphi

6. what are your thoughts on the most recent pack? (dream home decorator) those sectional couches look good! but honestly im kinda annoyed because now it’s even harder to have all the items filled in when i place lots from the gallery. like i’m just saying like a lot of builds will use that pack probably and if i don’t get it then i can’t really use builds/save files

7. how many packs/kits do you own? lemme count

expansion: all - 10/10 game: 5/10 stuff: 9/18 kits: none xo

24/38 - 63%

8. what’s your origin id? is it the same as your url? 🤗 it’s in my title, it’s celeschul. it doesn’t look that nice in my title but i use celeschul in my package files and i’m guessing people search things like, “celeschul penny hair” or something like that in order to find my cc- so i keep it in there so the search results are easier. i do want to change it though..

but no it’s also not the same! well i mean it’s the username i use for cc. my origin id used to be an0nymousghost but i changed it. i wonder if anyone’s taken that one?

9. is your simblr your sideblog or main blog? main blog ✌️ my old blog @stardze is a main blog as well.

my old old simblr was a sideblog but it had like 1 follower and it literally a bot so i don’t think that counts. i have a multifandom sideblog though

10. do you have a cc finds blog? i wish. i was thinking bout it earlier and that would be sooo neat but sometimes i download stuff that doesn’t have a tumblr post attached to it, and also it’s stressful to keep up with so nah

11. are you wcif friendly? yes sir. in fact i bring the trouble of wcifs onto myself but doing them even when nobody asked.

12. what’s your favorite sized household to play with? (ex. 1 sim, 4 sims) gonna have to think on this one, honestly 1 sim is really fun and stuff goes by so fast. doing stuff with astrid when she was on her own, it was much more efficient.

for families, i haven’t done that in a while actually. 5, 2 parents and 3 kids is cute tho. why did i write this this is honestly such a hard question

13. if you have c&d, do you play with pets? i feel like i haven’t played with cats and dogs in forever. honestly i just have no paitence. noelle fae was supposed to get a cat (there’s a food bowl + cat bed in her house) but when summer vacation started, the amount of time i spent playing ts4 decreased a lot. (this doesn’t really make sense, i have a lot more time. honestly it just has to do with my recent obsession with a certain anime/manga and some other personal thing)

i did random nightmares in may though and i had pets frequently. g5 didn’t because sofia scarlett lived in an apartment, but g2/3/4 had cici, and g1 had all the cats. but that was back in march so it’s been a while.

14. what lifespan do you use? i really want to do aging off but then i feel like it drags on. but aging legit stresses me out, sometimes i just want to sit down and do some cas stuff but i only have 2 hours in real time and there’s like 4 days left till one of my sims’ birthdays.

15. if you own a lot of packs, how many of them have you actually played through? just so everyone is aware this question was made for me

i feel like eps require a specific save made for testing them out, but the only save i’ve ever made for an ep is noelle fae’s get famous save.

that is literally a lie - i made a save for island living with one of my 100bc kids, maisie acapella. i did actually post it on tumblr BUT then i deleted all the posts BUT i reblogged them on my alt account BUT i privated my alt account so i honestly forgot about it

i have never played through discover university or watched anyone do it on youtube, i’ve read gerbits’ story about it so i think i’m pretty qualified. i’ve always wanted to do one with periwinkle acapella but i never got around to it

another ep i know nothing about is get to work

i tried doing a eco life playthrough but i hadn’t watched any videos and i was like..what is going on. so i quit lolx d ;;;;; i mentioned it but the whimsy stories legacy was the first time i had played with the eco lifestyle features so technically i think i know what im doing

i got outdoor retreat literally on monday of this week so i haven’t played through it yet.

jungle adventure i still don’t know what’s going on. i remember last year before i bought the pack i was brainstorming, and wanted to do a ja playthrough with luna and cedar, who are a couple who i did a random legacy with and it was all queued to post when i deleted everything (if you’re wondering why, it’s because my queue was literally 200+ posts). except this time i didn’t save them to my sideblog so i lost them.

i still havent had a restaurant in dine out

also never did the vet thing from cats and dogs

i have no idea what that rock climbing thing is from snowy escape but i did most of the other stuff because rn g5

city living i did through psc stage 5 and also it was the first pack i bought anyways

the rest of them are either stuff packs or i ended up playing them through casual gameplay (seasons, parenthood)

16. what do you do as you play sims? (ex. listen to music) i listen to music most of the time, or listen to commentary youtube videos because i am an alpha chad. i also used to talk with my friends on voice call but i don’t do that anymore 🥲

17. which sims challenges have you tried? random legacy, whimsy stories, perfect sim challenge, 100 baby, legacy (just the plain get-to-10-gens one), random nightmares, berry zodiac, astrology legacy, apocalypse

i feel like im forgetting some.. honestly most of the stuff i did before simblr was either 100 baby (i love that challenge) or random saves that lasted for 2 seconds.

18. do you like the new(ish) hair swatches? nah.

i do appreciate that most cc hairs have a true (ish) black, thank god! and the fact that the hair update is what inspired me to update and fix a bunch of hairs with different issues is pretty nice. but will i use them? no.

plus it takes up like 5 gb? depending on how many packs you have.

19. post the latest screenshot you took 📸

i live in cas

20. what is the cc/ingame hair that looks the most like your own? i think that dream home decorator side part hair looks a lot like my hair. honestly i havent see much like my hair but that one is kinda-? close

21. who is your favorite sim of yours and what is their story? noelle and alari fae i think!

link to post

noelle is blonde and has blue-grey eyes. she wears purple contacts pretty often though (because she wants to 😌)

alari has light brown hair that is kinda curly, and she’s got pretty vibrant blue eyes.

they’re sisters, alari is 3 years older than noelle. noelle was 19 and alari was 22 when they got spotted

they worked as models when they were young adults. their jobs involved dyeing their hair blue/pink, and they would model like clothes and stuff. anyways, they were pretty successful. like not ultra famous but they had enough money to not work for the rest of their lives.

their modeling group was made of 4 girls, the others were named paisley autumn and they were green and red, respectively. some things are:

paisley and alari started dating during this

autumn was a single mother to a little girl named destiny

noelle dated many people during this but never ended up finding the one <3

when their contract ended after like 6 years, paisley and alari went to go live together and noelle decided to get into acting. so thats when get famous playthrough started!

there’s more but basically they’re like oc’s with sims on the side. xoxo

22. if you use cc, are there any cc creators that you have like ALL of their items? this is such a good question! i hoard hair very heavily (my folder is 11gb) i so i have like 97% from most of the popular hair creators.

i think i had legitimately EVERYTHING from simstrouble though, i went through multiple times to check and i also have all of her retired stuff.

i have everything from ridgeport i think-? because of the fact that she uploaded all her stuff in one big zip.

i think that’s it.. for a long time i also had everything by clumsyalienn, but then i ended up deleting it and only keeping my faves.

and looking at my collection, maybe ah00b? i might be missing a couple but i at least have like 99%.

23. what’s one pack you think is underrated? dine out, it’s laggy af yes but it’s such a nice thing for my sims to do.

24. what are your favorite sims stories/legacies? melons by gerbits always and forever

this question was inspired by this ask anyways so

25. if you could change one small thing about ts4, what would it be? most of my suggestions are pretty complex but literally just - when you add tray files, they appear at the top. my life would be so much easier

this took me literal hours to answer

#replies #replying to MYSELF

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

Fic title meme : pulvis et umbra sumus (We Are Dust And Shadows)

On every single document, including the ones that show what actually happened to Howard and Maria Stark, Tony Stark is listed as dead among them.

He is not.

But in not calling in the accident on the abandoned road, Tony managed to find someone else to take his place and escaped.

Tony Stark is dead. A whole family funeral and everything. Obadiah pretends to cry. Tony is at the funeral with shitty dye in his hair and sunglasses that he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. Ha.

The funeral is closed casket. All their faces are rumored to be impossible to fix with make-up.

He makes new documents. Anthony Jarvis, from Boston. Airtight background. Likes puzzles. Scored damn high on the SAT, but not the perfect score.

(Killed him to answer some of those questions wrong, seriously.)

Anthony Jarvis goes to MIT and requests a single room. He gets one for one semester, and then the room next to his burns and destroys his as well. So he gets moved to Jim Rhodes’.

Jim becomes Rhodey, and he is the first friend of Anthony Jarvis, and nicknames him Tony.

He grins at that.

There are plenty of times that Tony wants to tell him. The thing about secrets is that they need to be shared. No one really wants a secret, nor do they want to keep it. But he keeps his mouth shut and asks if he wants to go for Thai food.

“This is the third time this week.”

“Not my fault it’s good! I’ll pay...”

“Sign me up.”

Tony and Rhodey gets Thai food. It’s good.

Rhodey lets him in on a secret that Tony had actually known about since his room assignment.

(You remember that guy’s room that caught on fire? Yeah, he swore that his microwave hadn’t been on, and nothing had been plugged in. He was right. But Tony needed an accident.)

In other circumstances, Rhodey would have ignored the offer that he had. He had had his heart set on Air Force. But there was something about the man who talked to him.

“It’s a place called Strategic-Homeland-something I can’t remember,” Rhodey says. “Point is, they’re a big deal and kind of shady, but not in the government shady kind of way. The only thing I can find out about them is that they’re an international company who need engineers, pilots, and basically anyone like you and me. I don’t know how I feel about it.”

Tony nods.

“You want me in on this?”

“I mean, you did tell me a couple of weeks ago that you weren’t sure what you wanted to do after graduation.”

(It was two weeks, three days, and fourteen hours ago. Not like he was counting.)

“...thanks. I’ll check it out with you.”

Anthony Jarvis shows up in a nice suit, stupid sunglasses, and impresses the higher-ups by diagnosing a problem with the engine that others had previously marked as “impossible.”

He’s hired on the spot, same as Rhodey.

Tony Jarvis gets his own keycard, finds an apartment in New York that’s within at least biking distance, and gets started on inventing some cute little toys for the spies in Research and Development.

He brings the laser-lipstick to life, poison-drop-earrings, spyglasses that actually work and have HD, and briefcases that use mirroring technology to change color.

“How did you do this?” Rhodey asks, eyes wide. “I swear this is unreal.”

“Aw,” Tony says. “You sap. I got some inspiration from some old comic book ads. I think I’m gonna try a ring decoder next, what do you think?”

“Almost makes me want to go on missions instead of flying them.”

Tony Jarvis is known for working odd yet long hours. He comes up with results. And he keeps his head down and minds his own business.

This is all to find out exactly who killed his parents. As much as his and Howard’s relationship was...interesting, he still wanted to know.

His desire to know the truth leads to somewhere he hadn’t thought was possible: Hydra.

His hands freeze as he looks at the paper file with thick, black lines all over. The information there was sparse. Howard, Maria, and Anthony Stark all died. It was ruled:

And there’s nothing there.

It wasn’t an accident. Sure he knew that, but there was something far more sinister at play. Why wasn’t it an accident?

He gets Alexander Pierce in his apartment with a man in the corner. His arm gleams in what little light from the lamps outside give off.

“Why are you searching for the Stark files?” He asks.

“Why didn’t you just schedule a meeting? I’m available tomorrow at three,” Tony jokes. “Who’s your friend here?”

“Someone you wouldn’t want to shake hands with,” Pierce answers. “You need to stop looking into this before you find yourself in a situation you don’t want to be in.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Accidents will happen,” Pierce says. He gets up from the table, to the counter. Gets out a glass. And makes himself water. He smiles as he looks to the man in the corner. “Do you want any water, Winter Soldier?”

Winter Soldier remains impassive.

Tony stills.

“So, the legends are true. And Hydra is still around.”

“And if you aren’t careful, you won’t be,” Pierce says. “Don’t bring any of this up. Or this won’t be the last time you see Winter Soldier. I know your moves, Jarvis. Don’t think you can surprise me.”

They exit the apartment. Tony realizes that Pierce took his glass.

And he laughs.

Because this? Not according to plan, but god he’s gonna have fun with it.

It starts with telling Rhodey who he actually is.

It does not go as planned.

“So let me get this straight. I’ve known you for years and you just. Never told me?” Rhodey asks. “Why not?”

“To be completely fair, no one knows besides a man in Wisconsin, and he’s from Wisconsin,” Tony says. “Also I was drunk. Drunk me is a terrible person who would sell me for a buffalo nickel.”

“I’m still mad, even if that’s funny,” Rhodey says, trying not to smile. “So. Why tell me now? I’m assuming you need something.”

“I would like your help,” Tony says. “It is not required but I am toppling a secret organization living in SHIELD and I think if I get your help, I will most likely not get fired by the end of this. Fury likes you, he hates me.”

“False, he mildly tolerates you. You’ll be fine. Probably. Who else should we get to help?”

Tony had originally planned for no one.

But then there was Pepper Potts.

She had been deemed by the media as “crazy” for accusing Obadiah Stane, longtime-CEO of Stark Industries, as ordering a hit out on the Stark family.

She had been booted from the company--anticipated--and then Hydra had ordered a hit on her.

Slightly unexpected.

Point is, Rhodey brings her into the apartment and tells Tony casually that the grocery store had run out of his usual hummus brand, was the generic okay?

“That’s like asking if I’m okay with blue pens,” Tony curses. “Also, is that Pepper Potts? Why is she here? Did you run into her at the grocery store?”

“No, as I was coming back. Did you know that she has a hit out on her? Fun times.”

“Oh my god, will someone explain to me what’s going on here?!” Pepper seethes. “I was just trying to get my yogurt without anyone taking a picture of me and some random fucking guy had a knife thrown at me and then this guy took me to your house!”

She then rants for ten minutes about the “questionable design choices going on in this establishment, who honestly thinks shot glasses are a decoration?!”

“Are you done?” Tony asks. “Because if you want to help with a conspiracy plot, you need to be done.”

She is.

Pepper does not get a job with SHIELD. In fact, she mainly just decides to take care of the redecoration in Tony’s apartment.

“You will be paying me for this.”

“Why would I do that? You’re using my money to buy everything. You’re living here rent free for now.”

“Because I’m helping you make better life choices. I also want new shoes.”

What Pepper does is provide very valuable access to Stark Industries: she knows the ins and outs, what employees do and don’t do, and also is very helpful in telling Tony what he needs to do when he takes the company over.

“Who said I was going to take it over?”

“Me,” Pepper says. “Also because I reviewed every single old document and the company was specified to go to next-of-kin. You are. And you’re not dead.”

“My death certificate is literally framed,” Tony says, pointing to his graduation photo that Rhodey took. He had swapped out his official diploma with it as a joke. No one had seen it. He thought it was hilarious.

“Yeah, but they can do DNA testing,” Pepper says. “This is like the twenty-first century Anastasia except this time they don’t find you with metal detectors!”

“I don’t like that you know that story as well as you do,” Rhodey says. “But I’ll leave you a credit card for furniture and groceries. If you get rid of my drinks in the fridge I’m literally never forgiving you.”

“Noted, and I don’t need forgiveness,” Pepper says. “But they’ll stay there.”

So begins the plot.

Pierce doesn’t know three things, which is a lot of things not to know:

1.) Tony Jarvis is not Tony Jarvis.

2.) Rhodey actually likes Tony and most of the time him saying that he would “kill Tony in a variety of ways, starting with sporks and moving forward...” is mostly (mostly) a joke.

3.) Pepper Potts resides in their apartment and is having fun telling Tony she bought new silverware.

“Why did you buy new silverware! It was fine!”

“I recognized all of these forks and knives from restaurants. Why did you steal them from restaurants?”

“They can replace them!”

“Don’t. Anyways now your spoons match and you don’t have the shitty ones from different places. Also I painted the bathroom.”

“My landlord is gonna kill me.”

“I made her cookies and discovered that she likes going to concerts. You’ll be fine.”

(Pepper is a goddess. You can’t convince them otherwise.)

Pierce doesn’t know any of this, but he still holds a key piece of blackmail: Tony Jarvis shouldn’t know about Hydra, and he’ll do anything to make sure that he doesn’t lose his job.

Tony has been recording their conversations for weeks.

(Pierce thinks he doesn’t design things to get around the available technology. Pathetic.)

He also has bugged Pierce as well as his house, and figures out that Winter Soldier is going to be on assignment within the DC area in an effort to kill some higher-up on the foodchain that was SHIELD.

Well.

Tony has always wanted to go and see the cherry blossoms a little more up close.

Pepper, of course, doesn’t like that they left his boots on.

“This couch is new and red,” she says. “Take off his boots!”

“He is unconscious and probably won’t be in the next fifteen minutes,” Rhodey says. “We are not touching him and possibly shortening that fifteen minutes.”

Winter Soldier wakes up to three faces staring at him.

“Mission failed?” he asks, voice robotic.

“Nope, you just got a new one,” says the man on the right. He is wearing a t-shirt. Winter Soldier thinks that in this situation, a t-shirt is not the best option.

(Of course, he’s not supposed to think. But they don’t have to know that.”

“Can you take your shoes off?” says the woman in the middle. “Please. You’re getting germs on the couch.”

He’s confused.

“Who am I killing?”

“No one, yet,” says the man on the left. “Do you know who you are?”

“Winter Soldier.”

“No, like a name? I’m assuming you’ve had a name at some point.”

“Someone has called me Mr. Freeze before.”

The man on the left snorts. Man on the right taps his arm lightly.

“Well, um, okay then. How do you feel about the name...aw shit. I can’t think of a name for you when your mask is on. Can you take the mask off?”

He takes it off. It’s nicer to breathe.

The man in the t-shirt pauses.

“Okay. So your name is Bucky Barnes. Do you know that name?”

Something clicked. But he doesn’t know what.

“Sounds...familiar.”

“Cool! So that’s your name now, do me a favor and don’t google it. I’m Tony, this is Rhodey, and this is Pepper. If you don’t take your shoes off, you’re going to be scared of her.”

Newly-named-Bucky highly doubts that he will be scared of Pepper because she is built like a twig and she is wearing high heels.

(He is wrong about ten minutes later when she forcibly throws a fork at him.)

“Why am I here?” he asks. “Should I be checking back in with Handler Pierce?”

“No,” comes the consensus from everyone else in the room.

“Technically, he thinks you went rogue and went back to Russia. He’s organizing a team to go get you. We hired an actor to play you. It’s been entertaining. He got some plums. Do you like plums?”

“Why is that relevant?”

“It’s vapid and not interesting at all, Tony loves questions like that,” Rhodey says. “Now come on. We need to get you actual shirts. Also some body wash.”

Bucky Barnes learns how to be a person. He stares at himself in the mirror for an hour and smiles slightly when Pepper calls him “vain” and pushes him aside to grab her hairbrush.

He then learns that Hydra is trying to overtake SHIELD and they have a slight window with Pierce out.

This involves two things:

1.) Tony Stark coming back from the dead.

2.) SHIELD panicking that they didn’t know this secret and taking another look at the paperwork, in which case Hydra will be found out.

These are both easier than anticipated. Tony can act like a showman better than anyone, and has been carefully growing a goatee that is eerily reminiscent of his late father’s. Of course he’s had to switch it up.

The media is going crazy. SHIELD as well. They’re scrambling to find paperwork that proves that it happened, and they find that the “accident” was no accident. That Howard hadn’t been working for the “enemy” at the time.

The enemy was in the building, and they had blended in seamlessly.

This all happens on a Wednesday, by the way. Pepper has it marked on the calendar and everything. Rhodey made his coffee.

Bucky is busy slamming people into drywall and listening for any word from Rhodey, who is also slamming people into drywall.

“You know, you’d think we’d get something like a suit of armor for this,” Rhodey pants out, slamming another guy out of his way.

Bucky nods.

“Best I can offer is a grenade.”

“Where in the fuck did you get a grenade?!”

“Supply closet. Second floor. What, you didn’t check?”

“No sorry must’ve missed it--of course I didn’t fucking check the second floor closet!” Rhodey yells.

Bucky says he’s stressed. He should calm himself.

Rhodey chucks a particularly nasty Hydra agent out a window.

(Bucky thinks Rhodey is probably the coolest person he’ll ever meet.)

Tony is fashionably late to the take-down of the century. He’s already foiled a lot of plans, and taken a key-card for Project Insight to work.

He waltzes in and nearly gets hit by a mug.

“So, how’s the party going?” he yells over to Pepper. Pepper is still in her heels. She looks like a goddess still, as usual. It is a Wednesday, after all.

“As fine as it can be,” Pepper says. “We’ve met some resistance. With Pierce gone there’s little infrastructure. You got his plane delayed, correct?”

“Even better. Got it sent to London. Motherfucker is gonna be there for a while,” Tony says. “Also may or may not have said that he was a threat. SHIELD branch there will investigate, find out some questionable things in his file that he will swear up and down were never there.”

“Good,” Pepper says. She launches a stapler at someone’s head. “Do you think we’ll have time to pick up takeout for dinner?”

“Depends on whether or not Deputy Director Hill is Hydra.”

They see Maria Hill pass by in a blur, yelling as she jumps onto a man and sends him crashing down over a railing.

“Lovely, she isn’t!” Pepper cheers. “By the way, I was thinking about redoing our kitchen.”

“‘Our’ kitchen?” Tony says, ducking a bullet and drawing out his personal lipstick-laser, firing it with expert precision. “I told you the living situation was temporary.”

“Oh please, you have an extra room.”

“Which was an office!” Tony tells her.

“Like you can’t have your office at Stark Industries,” Pepper says. “I expect to hear how the reveal went over dinner. Also, please hire me back. I don’t wanna be your interior decorator for forever.”

“Neither do I, you like modern art. Disgusting.”

And so the fighting resumes.

It is done by five-thirty-two, with an official surrender from Pierce.

“Thank god, I already ordered Chinese and they said it’d be here at six,” Rhodey says.

They all sit on the red couch.

Shoes on.

Tony tips four hundred percent.

“So what are we doing tomorrow?” Rhodey asks.

“I am not moving for six hours,” Bucky answers. “Also maybe getting a library card.”

“This is the first thing you want out of the icebox? A library card?” Tony asks, laughing.

Pepper laughs.

“I have errands to run. You can come with me and we’ll swing by.”

“What are the errands?”

“Getting a kitchen mixer and also making sure that my plates match my napkins.”

“A travesty if it doesn’t happen,” Rhodey deadpans. “Pass the lo mein, Tony. You’re hogging it.”

“I had to fight on a Wednesday and run,” Tony says. “Today isn’t cardio day.”

“Literally hate it when you speak,” Rhodey says. “Absolutely abhor your language.”

They go to bed, although it’s more of laying on the floor.

Sure, Tony will have to deal with retaking a business that he knows a bit less about and Pepper will have to be trained (again) and also fight against being made CEO (but she won’t fight much). Rhodey will get a new job with SI because it’s not like Tony will let him work at SHIELD (Rhodey tries, Tony will get him fired at some point). Bucky just...he needs to get a bit more than a library card.

But that’s for tomorrow.

#BUCKLE IN BOYS WE GOT A LONGGGGGG ONE #bucky barnes #tony stark #rhodey #pepper potts #yes this took all day yes i didn't proofread it #but i love this so much #lovelyirony writes

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alleycat97 · 3 years

Text

My Personal Star

With Every Heartbeat

This book killed me, and I know it did you guys as well. But be prepared for some Dakota x Mc spam, this is a different take however with my own character after Dakota passes. Please enjoy.

F!dakota x Mc

Tag list: @samanthadalton @fundamentalromantic anyone else hmu, still new to this story so I’ll include others in future work.

“Live a life worth watching.”

Sage repeated that phrase every morning when she woke up. It was her motivation, it was her inspiration, she did it because Dakota wanted her too. But in the moment, it seemed simple to agree to, but without her rock beside her, Sage found it hard to keep living the life Dakota wanted her to.

She was never alone in this fight, she had Lennox and Mateo and the Winchester’s. But being across the country made it difficult to reach them most of the time.

Sage chose California because of Dakota, and that small glimmer of hope that would allow her to follow her dreams fell short when Dakota passed. But she went anyway, for her.

It wasn’t easy at all, she was alone in a different fight, and that was fitting in. Once she settled in, she was all by herself, no matter how many calls, group texts or video calls she answered, she remembered what Dakota told her that night after Mateo got released,

“When he was here, I could just sneak into his room when I was going through stuff. He knew what to do because he was dealing with the same, and now he’s gone and I’m alone.”

And then Sage knew what Dakota truly meant. She was alone with her feelings and that was never good.

Sage followed through on her promise to Dakota and decided to take on acting school along with her normal academics. It was the only way to keep her mind occupied. She soon found herself to be a natural and a force at acting, and all thanks to Dakota. She really opened up Sage and taught her to be a new version of herself, she just brought the best out of her.

LA kept Sage occupied and the only time she returned home was at Christmas. She had spent the previous 3 with her mother, Mateo, Lennox and The Winchester’s. They never lost touch with Sage and she was forever grateful to have them.

This Christmas was different however, Sage had finished her schooling early and officially graduated from both. So this Christmas was both that and her graduation party.

“We’re all very proud of you sweetie!” Her mother cheered out.

“It’s so crazy to think how far we’ve all come.” Mateo called out.

“Yeah yeah, more mushy stuff.” Lennox joined in typical fashion. Somethings didn’t change.

As the evening was winding up, Dakota’s parents handed Sage a gift.

“You guys didn’t have to...” Sage insisted.

“Well, we didn’t.” Mr. Winchester spoke.

“What do you mean?” Sage asked confused.

“Check the tag sweetie.” Mrs. Winchester said looping her arm around her husband.

Sage did as instructed and nearly fell over.

“What is it Sage?” Mateo ask bouncing in anticipation.

“Yeah who’s it from?” Lennox sighed.

“It’s from...Dakota? I...I don’t understand?”

“Please dear open it.” The couple asked. “Then we will explain.”

“Open it dummy!” Lennox yelled.

“Ok....”

Sage opened the box to reveal a Dakota’s script, trophy and original movie for Dark Pact. Showing everyone.

“Before Dakota passed, she had us promise that you would get these when the time was right. She said it would be ‘your big break in Hollywood’ so please, these are yours now.”

So many emotions came back and hit Sage like a train, even after all these years, Dakota was still looking out for her. “I’ll make you proud.” She whispered as she group hugged everyone.

...

It had been 10 years since that Christmas. 10 years of crying, 10 years of hard work and sleepless nights. 10 years of low budget living and an intense resume is blockbuster films she’s starred in. 10 years had come and gone and after 10 years, Dark Pact was finished.

It took 10 years of her life to finish Dakota’s dream. A dream she wouldn’t dare let anyone else manipulate other than Nolan Grant. He helped Sage tremendously with the film and of course Sage reprised her role as Eleanor. She even offered the ghost roles to Mateo and Lennox who gladly accepted.

She bet everything, and spent every dime to her name on this movie and it took its toll on her. It was emotional every step, not seeing Dakota behind the camera, giving her advice, helping her set scenes and edit. It was difficult. Between other jobs and working on Dark Pact, she had no interest or time for a love life.

Except for one person in particular, a new actress Nolan suggested to play ‘Harper’ a girl that was possessed by a ghost and killed Eleanor, starting her torturing and long adventure of ghost fighting.

Her name was Darci and she was an imposing figure as Sage stepped into the studio. Darci was being interviewed by some low budget pictagram vlogger when both girls met eyes.

Darci smiled and her brown eyes flashed towards Sage. Sage couldn’t help but feel deja vu, as she approached the girl who was nearly a head taller than she. Darci flipped her hair and rain her hand through it greeting Sage. “Hi, I’m Darci Weathers, pleased to meet you.”

Sage just stood still in her own world as she saw her first day of senior year all over again. The exact moment she met Dakota, happened just like this. And Sage got scared and ran, blowing Darci off.

“Hey!” Darci chased after her. “Wait up!”

Sage ran to her dressing room to cry, the memory too great to fathom. Darci barged right in and stopped embarrassed for the intrusion,

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Darci said kneeling down to Sage.

“It’s not you. Can you...please give me a moment?” Sage asked.

“Sure.”

Having Darci around wasn’t going to be easy but the girl was a natural at acting and even had good ideas to help improve. She was just like Dakota and that’s what scared Sage the most.

She found herself opening up to Darci slowly, mainly for the sake of film chemistry but soon found herself hanging with her regularly. She took the time to learn about the girl and her passions, she wanted to be a producer, what a shock. But she was also the most sweet, most caring person. She didn’t take no for an answer and was determined. She was, just like Dakota....

Sage knew she couldn’t hide the truth from Darci forever and just like Dakota did, she eased into her history with the girl, hopefully to not overwhelm her. Darci took her time as Sage was still afraid to commit.

The after party to Dark Pact had been going on and after several tear jerking interviews later, Sage found herself dancing with Darci. Whether it was the drinks or Darci, Sage found herself kissing the girl all the way home and into her bed. It had been 14 years since she was this intimate with anyone and as soon as Darci dropped her dress, Sage checked out. The memory of her first and only time with Dakota flooded her mind.

“Seriously?” Darci protested.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this, I’m not ready.” Sage said running from the room, not listening to the angry shouts coming from Darci who followed her into the bathroom.

Sage fell to the bathroom floor and had flipped a switch, “Get away from me.”

“Come on Sage, let me in.” Darci pleaded.

“No! Go away and never come back!”

“But...I wanna help.”

“You can’t help me! Nobody can!” Sage screamed. “You have no idea what it’s like to have your heart spoken for and then ripped out.”

“Well...”

“Get out!” Sage screamed for the last time. This time sending Darci packing.

It had been days since Sage came out of her apartment. 14 years had passed, 14 years since Dakota had left her and here she was. Back to square one. She shut everyone out including Darci. This was a battle she was going to have to face herself.

She caught a plane back to Boston and headed for a place she hasn’t visited in nearly a decade. Dakota’s grave. It was dark when she got there, but she didn’t care, she sat down on the wet dew and stared at Dakota’s headstone.

“Hey.” She started. “I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve come to see you. I was afraid. And I know you taught me to be better than that but when you left us, my world came tumbling down. I’ve tried to cope with all of this and I knew it would be difficult. I just love you so much and it kills me everyday that you’re not with me.”

Sage tried to control her tears as she looked to the night sky, “I know you’re up there watching me right now. And I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you. I’m trying down here, we turned your movie into a box office hit. I know you were there to see it but I wish I could have seen your face.”

She took a deep breath as she leaned into the headstone, “Anyway, I’ve met this girl. And Dakota Winchester I swear she is your twin and reminds me so much of you it scares me. The way she encourages me, lightens up my day. The smiles she gives. Oh! She even does that hair thing you did with you hand. It’s just I gave you my entire heart and I know I promised you I would date others but you were my first. That hasn’t been easy to forget. This isn’t my final goodbye, I’ll never ever forget you and the love we shared. I just want a sign, anything to know that you’re ok with me moving on.”

Sage sat for a few moments hoping for a miracle, when she about gave up, the wind picked up and Sage looked to the stars, catching one blinking in the night sky.

“Thank you, I love you so much.”

With her battle behind her flew back to LA to find Darci.

“Sage? What are you doing here? It’s late?”

“Will you move in with me?”

“What!?” Darci asked.

“I want you to move in with me. I’m sorry about the other day I just...needed to find closure.”

“I understand. If you had just talked to me about this.”

“I know Darci and I’m sorry. I loved Dakota with my entire heart. When she left she took my heart with her but after some soul searching I think I’m finally ready to move on, and that’s with you because I realized I’m in love with you.” Sage gasped as she realized what she just admitted.

“I’m in love with you to.” Darci smiled back kissing Sage.

Sage got her closure and her heart back, however she kept just a small bit for Dakota because this crazy life would not have happened without her. So as Darci and Sage enjoyed their balcony out in the country side, they could enjoy themselves and be at peace.

“So how are we going to wrap up this trilogy?” Darci asked showing Sage some of her storyboards. We can do whatever you want.”

Sage smiled at Darci’s hard work, this time thinking back to to the computer lab when Dakota taught her what a storyboard was.

“I like this one.” Sage said looking to the night sky once again, looking for Dakota. “What do you think?”

Darci crawled onto the chair with Sage looking into the sky, “Which one is Dakota?”

Sage caught the flashing star and pointed so Darci could see, “That’s her, the flashing one.”

“She’s beautiful.” Darci said I’m awe.

“She sure is. Present tense.”

“You’ve got your own personal star.” Darci said kissing Sage who returned it with love.

“Correction, I’ve got two personal stars.”

#playchoices #pixelberry #WEH #with every heartbeat #Sage woods #Sage x Dakota #dakota winchester #dakota x mc #f!dakota

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moderngirlmp3 · 3 years

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hells yeah :D forest vibing buddies!!

FWHDSUFIKJSDF OK YES !!!! people who are hypocritical over their pet peeves <3

:DDD thank you, i do love perceiving people.

DGHDLSKJF i admire your friend but. yes. why would you not sleep on a mattress is it actually comfortable on the floor ?? "unless it's reggie peters singing about how home is where his horse is." YES. YES. THERE IS ALWAYS THAT EXCEPTION!!!! reggie peters outweighs all lmao.

hmm ok you do have a point there. and if nobody else knows that you don't have to sleep, i guess you do have to pretend to be asleep? at least sometimes. and then other times i'm sure you would be bored. but !!! there is so much to do, and i think having all of the time in the world to do that would be quite intimidating. and then if nobody needs to sleep, then you don't really get any quiet time, do you. everyone's just always Up and About and yeah.... hm.

!!!! i love that, and yes! if it's falling apart that just means it's well loved and well used.

hsdlkgjhdsklfjskldjf don't worry bestie that is a-ok and also. very big mood.

oh my GOD. that lyric is just. painful poetry. sidenote, i think that could be a pretty cool title for a song. but !!! i shall listen to that song right away bestie.

people who can do origami are amazing. i had a phase for a few years where i was OK at origami, but the people who do youtube tutorials?? on another level good lord.

aw thank you but i also hope you know that i sat there for a solid five minutes with the stupidest look on my face like "ah yes. this is my new thinking face." *makes the weirdest face you've ever seen in your life* anyways-

probably google chrome, because it's very versatile (coughs in picrew, ao3, weird searches, and tumblr). safari would be better if i could get private browsing smh. so i'd say either that, or this digital library app that i have. OH !! or discord. *laughs in indecisive*

i don't have a lot of games on my phone, habit bc i really was running low on storage a few years ago sjdlfj. i also mainly use tumblr/ao3/discord. a song lyric stuck in my head rn is "all the runaways are running here today / cowards and the brave" from abandon ship by fin.

i'm not entirely sure what my favorite toy was,, sdhflskdjf sorry. i'd say grocery store, because i don't mind food shopping, and my memory is being Uncooperative so i can't recall anything off the top of my head. i do like camping, at least in theory!! i've never really done Camping camping, but i've done the "sleep in your backyard under the stars" shtick (although not as often as i'd like because there are bears that are extremely people-friendly and like to just. walk up to houses and go through the trash and whatnot.) i'd love to go properly camping sometime tho. probably just vibing, honestly. i don't think i've got anything in particular scheduled, so i'd love to just wake up and stay in bed late, have it rain all day so i can stay inside and listen to music, hopefully do some writing.

do you like camping? strangest/best name you have for one of your playlists? do you get along with little kids well? when you were younger, what was your dream job? favorite fruit? what is an item from your childhood that you really wish you could find? - 🌵

"reggie peters outweighs all lmao." sO TRUE. fading hyperfixation aside reggie peters is the best ever and i adore him so much

sdfjslkfjldjf "thinking face" i love that actually. mood.

ok ok google chrome is good!! also i think there is private browsing on safari? yeah i just checked you can get to it on phone or computer. lmao for me safari is better on my phone and then chrome is better on computer. the private browsing is v e r y important lol. ok yeah discord is... yeah. very good.

wait wait wait i'm obsessed with that lyric??? hang on i gotta listen to that song.

sdjfsldkfj dude dw about it. ahhhh grocery stores,,,, yeah. so true. BEARS ??? BESTIE WHAT ???? also oh my god i have yet to do the camping in backyard thing but ur making me want to... but BEARS ??? WEHJFDSHIOWJDLSKJF ???? ooooh omg rain and writing that is such a vibe!!! i am wishing you all the rain and all the writing motivation and inspiration <33

hmm. i do not like camping. i just don't vibe with all the bugs and all the outside stuff. i'd prefer to just sit inside and read a fic about my favorite characters going camping LMAO.

OOOOH BESTIE I HAVE SO MANY PLAYLISTS HANG ON. ok well the strangest name is "you stupid bitch why him" and it's just songs that are aggressively straight and cliche and make me think of my middle school crush who was kinda a shithead. my best playlist name is probably "good luck lmao" which is just a bunch of sapphic yearning songs that i made for my friend. or "crime time" which is just a bunch of angry sounding songs that mostly sound the same.

uhhh. i think i get along with little kids pretty well for like. the first hour? and then i get tired and im just like. yup. cool. wow. i want to kick you into the sun.

oooh my dream job... i think it was to be a doctor? or an actor? yeah both of those at some point lol

favorite fruit is oranges <33333 don't mind apples tho

oh god... i guess i really wish i could find... hhh my memory is not cooperating. whoa you said that earlier we're twins. soulmates. besties. uhhh. oh!! when i was youngish i made the lego millenium falcon thingy. and then lost it. and i was so sad. sure would like that back at some point. i don't even like star wars lol. oh wait also every single stuffed animal i ever lost track of. i want them all

what's your favorite liminal space? thoughts on uquizzes? do you watch youtube a lot? strangest/best name you have for a playlist? what would you do if you met your clone? thoughts on thunderstorms?

#plu answers #a-mere-chaotic-queer #🌵anon

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hecohansen31 · 4 years

Text

Like I Never Needed Anyone

Oleg The Prophet+Reader (Modern! AU)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

Ahh this is the fic with which I am entering the “400 followers celebration” (congrats again, sweetie!) made by @youbloodymadgenius.

For once I low key ditched Ivar (I am sorry babe) for Oleg (also GUYS… I HAVE JUST DISCOVERED THAT THE ACTOR WAS THE ONE WHO PLAYED DIMITRI IN ‘VAMPIRE ACCADEMY’, another crush of my heart..I… am in love).

As always any feedback is more than welcome, even more if you want to see this pairing again!

Have a nice day!

SUMMARY: Life isn’t easy when you are slowly recovering from a break-up in a new city and with a new job, but an handsome Russian prince might just come in and save the day.

WORDS: 7.8K

WARNINGS: Self Esteem Issues, Break-Up, Toxic Friends. low key OOC OLeg (I am sorry but when I usually write modern AU, I try to soften the characters, so sorry), Unprotected Sex (WRAP IT UP BABE, YOU ARE NOT MILIONAIRES RUSSIAN PRINCES… I think) Rough Sex (Dom-Sub Undertones), Dirty Talk, Degrading Talk. Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Fingering, Cum Play, Boss-Employee Relationship.

Destiny sometimes worked in the most mysterious of ways.

The day you had been give one of the best news of your life, your boyfriend had decided to break up with you.

That day you had come back home after having been given a role as a curator in a private gallery in Russia, your boyfriend had been waiting for you with his suitcase by the door.

‘Babe did you already pack the suitcase?’ you had joked, bringing him back inside as you caught him in the act of leaving, thinking he might have played you a joke, since you had sent him the message with the good news after you had received them.

No threat ruining your perfect day.

You had been working so hard to gain a work that properly matched with your skills.

The previous year you had refused a job offer abroad because of your boyfriend’s own career since he was slowly setting himself up in his new job and you didn’t want to disrupt the building romance that was growing.

You had been working through unpaid researches and part-time jobs, that didn’t help you feel confident and enough, but you had gone through them thinking about the small life you were creating with your boyfriend, more as a way to get out of the ‘single system’ than for actual love for Peter, your boyfriend.

He wasn’t your true soulmate, but you had long given up finding it, not wanting to fall again into the annoying scheme of being the only ‘single girl’ among your friends.

Also, you dreaded the dating atmosphere of having to listen to egotistical men who thought you would be in their beds by the end of the night and the awkwardness of fresh relationships.

Peter wasn’t a bad man, he wasn’t attentive or romantic as Disney Prince, but you honestly didn’t think that anybody would ever be like that in the era of Tinder and PornHub.

You had started explaining him the details as you moved around the house and Peter sat uncomfortably onto the sofa, but you didn’t notice it, mumbling about your new job as a curator in some kind of private royal galleries of a Russian prince.

He apparently wanted to open some place of his enormous mansion to expose some family ‘heirlooms’ on special occasions and wanted somebody who would arrange it perfectly and create a proper exhibition.

“… I just have a month to get myself ready” you had mumbled, finally looking at Peter, as you moved closer to him “… I know that this is going to take a toll on our relationship, but… I just… this is a great chance for me!”.

“Babe, I am happy for you” he had tried to smirk lightly, but it hadn’t come out as nothing more than a worried frown and you had expected some comment about how far Russia was and how the two months would have been tough and… “… I think we need to talk”.

You had almost chocked on your own breath, knowing all too well that such a comment was made only in couple who was breaking up and, as Peter distanced himself from you, you realized you were that couple.

“I know that you are worried about Russia… but I have been trying to…”.

“It isn’t simply Russia” he replied, his face moved in a convinced pout, as if nothing you might have said would change his opinion “… it’s just… I have just felt like I am wasting myself here”.

Hadn’t you been so shocked you would have gladly punched him in the face for being just an asshole.

“… you are not my true love, we aren’t each other’s soulmate” and again, without the shock effect, you would have gladly told him that it was why your relationship worked, it was what both you had searched when you had gotten together “… this is not what I want in my life, I want to find true love”.

And as he went on with his ‘I am a free man’ speech, you had just looked at him confused: nothing had given you the notion that you were in a crisis, although maybe you had had to start from the fact that you had never acted as a couple, not putting enough effort and not expecting it.

Maybe, maybe… Peter was right, you had to find your own true love.

And that illusion had lasted for an entire week of crying and self-esteem issues, till you had found Peter on Instagram with his new girlfriend: a tall blonde who looked like the twin of Taylor Swift, which made it extremely difficult for you to hate ‘the tall giraffe’, as you had tried to call her.

But again, each time you saw her stories she was either baking cookies for less-fortunate-kids or writing feminist magazines, which made you question how the freaking hell she had ended up with Peter.

You had almost been glad when you had had to move to Russia, the entire situation there was completely different from and more relaxed from the one back home.

Your friends after your break-up had been low key distant and the sole ways they had tried to comfort you was either to get you to bars or clubs to get you a rebound or presenting you new guys for you to date.

In Russia you hadn’t much to do except work and home, since the mansion you worked in was pretty away from the small apartment you had gotten for your staying of three months and it would take you at least an hour to arrive there.

Also the cold weather had almost killed you on your first week, which made you uneasy to go out, although Cristina, your collaborator at the mansion, tried to desperately get you out, but at least she didn’t push out desperate dudes onto you.

‘We are in Russia, Cristina’ you always protested, as she grabbed you and tried to teach you how to ‘rumba’.

‘But you have a proper Latina in front of you!’ she always replied, talking about how she would dance all night back in Barcelona, telling you should visit her just to do that, once you finished working there.

Cristina was honestly another thing for which you were thankful for, although her cheery personality would bump with your most reserved one sometimes, you honestly thought that she helped you to try to keep a positive outlook in life.

And then there was Oleg, your boss.

You hadn’t seen him when you had arrived, being introduced in the job by Cristina who had arrived a month before you in order to set up and bring some documents and paintings from Madrid, and the only inhabitants of the huge mansion were the staff, alongside a governess and Oleg’s nephew, Igor, who would sometimes visit you during your work, playing around with his puppets.

You had almost thought this was some kind ‘Tun of the Shrew’ shit, but then one day, arriving late, the first time in the four weeks you had been there, you had caught the boss in the exhibition hall.

You had bumped in with some coffee stolen from the kitchen since Cristina didn’t seem to work fully till she got at least a cup of that ‘heavenly beverage’ in her system.

But she hadn’t been in the studio, instead a tall man was there looking around at the still empty walls, since you had focused yourself the month prior onto catalogizing the entire exhibition.

You had almost been scared of the sudden appearance, but the man was as handsome as not many men around there, definitely looking the part of the ‘last Romanoff’, with his piercing eyes and mainly features on a perfect face.

And then he had spoken.

‘Is that coffee? Because I just came back from a twelve hours flight and the one there was shit’.

You had immediately pushed forward the cup, almost as a peace offering.

“… oh you must be the curator, the American one” he had mumbled, after he had almost burned his tongue on the coffee “… I do think that you can already realize that I am prince Oleg, although I hate with all my heart the title, just Oleg around the manor”.

“… (Y/N)” you had been simply able to mumble, looking at him, the way he moved so at ease and confident that got a light shiver of definitely-not-cold, running through you.

“Beautiful name” and the look that he had sent to your body had meant that he wasn’t talking only about your name, although you were wearing one of your least flattering sweater and a pair of deformed jeans which did nothing for your inexistent figure “… shouldn’t you be already putting up the pictures and paintings?”.

And then you had started to rumble everything you knew to the point that Oleg had smiled, and gently touching one of your shoulder he had mumbled.

‘Slower, dorogaya” he had joked softly, giving you a smile that had rendered you speechless.

You had almost been grateful that Cristina had arrived a few minutes later, processing to steal Oleg’s attention from you, since they were old friends from what she had told you and that is why Oleg had chosen her and trusted her for this exhibition.

But still… you couldn’t help but envy lightly the attention that was poured onto your colleague, although you knew it was stupid to be jealous of her.

Oleg’s visits had become more frequent: he was a bit of a control freak which made you put your best into this job, although you had to admit that you loved it with all your heart, it was something that made you feel well about yourself and your abilities.

It certainly helped with your awful self-esteem, since after the break up it had been under your feet.

And if you ignored Oleg’s search for perfection and his outbursts of rage (which weren’t against you, most of them happened against his brothers) he was actually quite the nice boss, and even more an handsome man whose simple smirk got your heart to jump through climbs.

You had a superficial knowledge of each other, mostly when he would stay a bit with you to keep you company as you checked through catalogues and new ideas, asking you questions about your work and the best part was when he would light up as you told him something that got quite the impression on him.

Almost as if he was trying to understand what you said.

Which was something that Peter had never done with you.

It flattered you.

And his petnames made you feel things.

Kitska, Zaika, Malishka and Kroshka and many more that got you more and more interested into learning Russian, at least to know what they would mean, but they still got you to feel heavy and bothered as he pronounced them, smirking at you and licking his lips.

You still remembered after a particular rough day, when you had chosen the setting of the paintings, he had come behind you, his breath gently tickling your ear, as he grabbed lightly onto your waist, leaving a slight pat on it.

“Good job, Krasotka”.

And right after you had come home that day, barely greeting your Swedish roommate, you had moved in your room, gotten into nothing but your panties and teased yourself softly at the repetition of that soft voice, completely untangling the block you had been having after the break up.

Sex with Peter wasn’t exactly amazing, barely the sparks of the things you could do on your own, but after your break up you hadn’t just felt either sexy or enough aroused to think about sex, but Gosh if you hadn’t been able to slip your finger between your thighs desperately and over and over, that night.

Till the shame of having just gotten off thinking your boss had taken over you and masturbation had been even more difficult, alongside watching Oleg in the eyes.

That night Cristina had left you early, she had a date and left work early, as Oleg had walked in for his daily check, finding finally all the walls set up, since you had only two weeks till the exhibition went public, and your work would be over.

Which you would be dreading, not solely because that job was one of the best you had ever had, but also and most importantly you would be missing the people: Cristina, small Igor who would try to distract you to get you to play with him and Oleg.

Before going off Cristina had winked your way, making sure that the door of your work-room was closed behind you.

‘I am not there to chaperone you, so don’t let Oleg win you over with that wicked tongue of his…’ she had joked softly, as you blushed and tried to deny her insinuations “… oh c’mon, you always blush when he comes here, and he has a slight… fixation on your body’.

‘Stop joking around, Cristina’ you had tried to laugh it off, but the ‘caliente’ girl had just sent you a meaningful look, smirking softly as she came closer, mirroring the way Oleg preferred to talk with you: one hand onto your waist and his breath on your ear.

He definitely didn’t do it with Cristina.

‘… he might like you more than you think, sweet girl, and I’ll be very pissed if you can walk tomorrow’ you had blushed, almost burning your face as you tried to intimidate her into shutting up ‘… don’t tell me that you didn’t notice the way his eyes stay glued to your ass when you lowered your body to get the painting folders yesterday’.

‘Men like Oleg don’t go out with girls like me’ you had muttered between gritted teeth.

You had barely landed a Peter, an Oleg… Gosh… you couldn’t even fathom why he liked teasing you so much.

‘Oh sweetie…’ had replied Cristina as she got away from you ‘… you have no idea what men like Oleg want till they ask you’.

And you couldn’t help but work the rest of the time with a worsening blush, even being startled as Oleg walked in with coffee in his hands, simply wearing house clothes, which for him meant a black turtleneck that probably was worth half your apartment, and loose sweatpants that weren’t loose in the right place.

You had taken a small peak when he was distracted.

And Gosh… since then you had been scared and horny at the same time.

The ‘don’t masturbate on your boss’ rule certainly didn’t do anything for your thoughts.

“Hey, it’s just me, Oleg!” he laughed, pushing the coffee mug next to you “… no murder ghost, we don’t have any of those here… I think”.

“That’s reassuring” you shot back, grabbing the mug and drinking a big gulp of it, to calm your nerves “… no wife hidden in the attic, Mr. Rochester?”.

“Just a crazy wife, but sadly I don’t own an attic” he blurted out and you couldn’t help but be a bit taken aback by the knowledge that he was married.

You had gotten off not only to your boss but also to a married man.

You were so going to hell.

“… but let’s just say that she isn’t my wife anymore, even worse than ‘Jane Eyre’ “ he mumbled lightly, making you let out a breath of relief “… we split up six months ago, but we had stopped being lovers a long time before that, it was… complex”.

“I am sorry to hear that” you muttered softly as you calmed yourself, seeing as much as that little confession had impacted onto Oleg who looked like he was breaking himself apart, keeping his gaze onto his hands to avoid yours.

“But I hadn’t come here to talk about this sad stuff…” he mumbled, something softer settling in his eyes as his gaze came onto you “… I wanted to actually invite to dine here, since we have both been left alone, Cristina is out on a date and my brother Dir brought Igor to the cinema, and the staff took an holiday, so…”.

You couldn’t help but be a bit confused and shocked by the invite, unsure whether it would have been unprofessional to accept it or rude to reject it.

“It would be amazing, but I have to go home before it is dark, even more because there isn’t Cristina with me… so…” you tried to be polite, finding a rightful excuse but before you could finish your ramblings, Oleg stopped you, again touching your shoulder as he moved forward.

“That’s why I wanted to ask you to stay, actually, kitska” he replied softly “You could sleep here at the manor for one night, if you don’t have anything better to do, obviously. So, you wouldn’t have to go back all alone…”.

The entire proposal was also rightful, if you thought that you were uneasy to walk alone at night, but you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were trespassing some boundaries.

“Ahem…” you stalled and Oleg went a step further, destroying any boundary you might have set for yourself, taking your hands in his.

They seemed so small in his hold, rough and definitely hands that worked their way to the success, contrasting strongly with his ‘prince’ image.

You almost wanted to know what they would feel elsewhere.

“… c’mon, zaika! Don’t leave me with the ghosts!” he mumbled, faking a pleading tone which got you to blush under the intensity of his gaze, a dominant one that made you blush roughly.

“You said there weren’t ghosts!” you tried to shift the attention, knowing that the decision didn’t belong to you anymore.

“… that I know of…” he replied with a devious smirk “… pretty please”.

“Just because you asked so nicely…” you muttered back and Oleg almost jumped onto you in an hug that made you blush and tremble and you were quick to push him away lightly “… I just need to do a small shower before, everything, if you don’t mind”.

“Oh no please, don’t, the stench might scare off the ghosts” and you lightly kicked him in the shins.

He couldn’t talk to you like that, whether he was your boss or not.

“That wasn’t nice” you replied, as he giggled lightly, grabbing one of your hand and again annulling the distance, he brought you closer, kissing the back of it with a warmth that made you red all over your face.

“… forgive me please, my lady” he mumbled, and you were again quick to push away your hand from his hold, aware that this was slowly taking a turn you didn’t know if you were ready for “… I am going to get the room ready, now, till a few of the staff are still here”.

“Thank you”.

And now you were just having an existential crisis, about what it meant for your hot boss to ask you out to dinner…

---

You had never been this grateful for the dress you had packed for work.

Once Cristina had dumped an entire pot of red paint on your clothes which had been rather uncomfortable to stay in, mostly for the stares of the people on the bus on the way back home.

Hence you had started to pack a change of clothes to work, something you wouldn’t feel the need to wear any day and something that was easy to smuggle in your bag, such as a small dress and stocking.

Nothing glamorous or such, only a simple maroon dress with an high neck and an asymmetric cut to the hem of the skirt and although it was no ‘little black dress’ or some expensive gala elegance, it fell just right onto your body, highlighting your figure in a flattering but shy way.

Sadly, you hadn’t brought also your make-up bag, since you didn’t wear it at work, but you had been able to style your hair properly in order for them to be up in an elegant but effortless updo.

Looking yourself in the vintage mirror, you didn’t feel bad about the entire ensemble, it even made you smile, when you hadn’t been able to properly look at your body in months.

You exited the room and moved towards the stairs since the mansion had the rooms on the first floor and the dining room at the ground floor.

And as you were appearing on top of the stairs, Oleg appeared at their bottom, and he looked at you stuck in his position as you moved down praying not to stumble, suddenly at unease without your working coat to shield you from painting and dust and… more importantly, men’s gazes.

Such as Oleg’s.

As you were on the last step, he quickly moved onto you to help you, offering you his hands.

“… I was going to check on you” he said breathless, before he calmed himself reappearing relaxed “… to see if the ghosts had stolen you away”.

“Ah no just enjoying your warm shower, this weather is simply not for me” you replied softly, trying not to give too much thought at the fact that Oleg kept your hand in his, lowering it by his side.

“… there are ways to warm up” he joked, before he gently pushed you behind him in the dining room, the smaller one that the staff used, which was warmer and more intimate, definitely making you blush as Oleg left your hand when you sat down, him in front of you, the innuendo in his world badly hidden “… like warm food! I got the staff to prepare you some special meals, just before they left, hope you’ll like them”.

“They were very gracious” you mumbled softly, your smile faltering a bit due to the fact that although Oleg had all that flirty attitude towards you, it would just end up in a more friendly conversation.

You couldn’t help but call the entire thing ‘mixed signals’.

“Not as much as you” he replied, sending you a small look from the side of his eye “… you honestly look gorgeous in that dress, should wear them more often”.

The suggestion made you dizzy, and you hadn’t even come close to the wine, which was a bad sign.

“… I don’t have a lot… of occasions to wear them” you mumbled “… I prefer my warm and comfy sweaters, wouldn’t want catch a cold so close to the end of the exhibition”.

“Oh no talk of the exhibition, tonight!” he made you promise, lightly raising his hand from the table to settle it onto your thigh, the upper part of it in a move too bold for him “… let’s talk about anything else, please, just do like if I was Cristina”.

And you had erupted with laughter, trying to imagine the burly man as your Latina friend.

A small chihuahua with teeth and a pendant for raggaeton.

“… ok just like a friend, not simply Cristina” he admitted softly, as you smirked lightly “… got anyone waiting for you at home?”.

You couldn’t help but notice a tone of investigation in his question but played coy and gave him the truth.

Nothing would have changed if you had lied.

“… no one, except my mom” you mumbled softly, twirling the wine inside of your glass “…and my friends, but I am secretly happy to get away from them”.

“No boyfriend?” now Oleg’s tone was definitely more interested than proper, as he avoided looking at you and ate his meal, pouring himself another glass of wine and filling yours, although you had barely finished your first “… a girl like you might have not only a boyfriend but a lover at home”.

Although it was a joke, there was some kind of bitterness to it.

“I had one” you muttered softly, again taking a quick drink from your glass, although you wanted to dunk the entire bottle “… we split up before I had to go to Russia, apparently ‘I wasn’t his true love’ “.

You expected pity, maybe agreement with him, since a good half of your friends had stood by his side.

Not the way Oleg looked almost hurt, as if he had put himself in your shoes.

Or maybe he had been in them.

“… according to my ex-wife, I started neglecting her, and we had married too young to know what we truly wanted… all the passion burned out… yadda yadda yadda…” his immediate reaction was to let out a bit of that rage in his own work, against his competition, almost as if he used it not to break down “… all shitty excuses for cowards who can’t face their own flaws”.

“Oh no, believe me… in this case, he had a few rights” you had mumbled, immediately feeling all your insecurities coming crashing down “… there is obviously something wrong with me”.

Because you weren’t a tall giraffe who baked for poorer kids and wrote feminist articles.

You couldn’t be it ever in your life.

You were simply a clumsy art curator, with a kink for having everything under control and comfy sweaters.

You weren’t the type of girl who was interesting or gentle or beautiful…

“Nothing is wrong with you, malishka” now Oleg’s hand squeezed lightly your thigh under your table “… you are smart, sweet and fucking beautiful, and if that Сволочь didn’t see it, then it’s his fucking problem. He is the one who has… everything wrong”.

Meanwhile all this happened Oleg’s face had shifted to meet yours and his eyes were so strongly set onto you that they made you shiver, almost in fear.

Not of him, but of the intensity, with the worry of not deserving his words.

“… I don’t… “ you didn’t know what to say, but as Oleg moved closer taking his hand in his free one, you felt like nothing had to be said “… it’ll take me a bit of time to feel like what you said is true… but thank you… really”.

“I just hope you’d believe me, right on the spot” his voice had a nostalgic tone that froze you on the spot, as he pinned you again with his pretty eyes “… you deserve to be showered with compliments, every day, (Y/N)”.

“Maybe I should stay more, since you are so lenient on giving them” you teased him, moving away the attention from yourself, suddenly the air was too heavy, threaded with muttered whispers and bad memories.

“… if that is all you want to, stay here all you want” he had softly leaned back and the turtleneck had tightened over his muscles as they shifted under the black fabric, and you couldn’t help but feel your body warm up at the sole thought, as you mimicked his position “…I think that I’ll gladly gave you any compliment you want, kisa”.

Gosh, that breathy tone, almost a note higher than a moan…

It made you feel things.

“… flatterer” you shot back, lightly kicking his shin with your feet and Oleg smirked, downing another glass that shadowed his smile.

“Just for the pretty ladies”.

The entire night passed with you finishing half a bottle of expensive red wine, in an exchange that seemed a move stuck between ‘will they or won’t they’, in something that dragged things to be hot but still hazed and confused.

The wine had certainly made you lose all your inhibitions, and you were currently onto Oleg soft sofa, a vintage piece which was too big for two lovers, and too small for two friends, to the point where you were sat on your knees, the dress stretching a bit, in a way that made you uncaring, and Oleg was next to you, not directly touching you, but his arm was stretched over the back of the sofa, in ‘an almost hug’.

“… oh c’mon don’t tell me that you seriously fell onto your ass the first time you tried skating” you laughed out loud, as Oleg faced away with a smirk on his face “… you are a shame for your nation for sure!”.

Oleg shifted quickly position, a bit too quickly for your hazed sense, lightly pushing an hand over your mouth, in a way that made you open your eyes immediately at that gesture, as his hands moved quickly from simply hovering over your mouth to gently trace your lips, something that made you follow them as they retreated from your body, pushing it forward and arching it towards him.

“… don’t scream my secrets out to everyone” he retorted, lightly falling back on his seat as you, lightly closer to him.

“Or?” you shot back, a wicked smile of teasing on your face, his touch having uncovered something wicked in you.

“… or I’ll have to shut you up, kisa”.

“You always call me those strange names and I don’t understand what you mean half of the time” your tongue was now definitely loose.

“I just called you… ‘kitten’… I think it is the proper meaning in your own tongue”.

And as your chatting spirit had appeared it immediately disappeared at the knowledge of that.

You had known that they were term of endearment, but ‘kitten’ sounded so sexual.

As Oleg’s behavior.

You choked on your own saliva and a situation of stall appeared between you two, as you felt an awkward silence falling onto you.

You were frozen under the possible fear of what a move from you might entail, although Oleg’s teasing had left you hot and bothered, enough to make you feel like you could just move forward and kiss him to end all that waiting.

But what if it went wrong?

What if he simply didn’t want you like this, although he had said all those sweet things?

And the touching that had inflamed what was between your thighs, maybe was just normal for him.

Different cultures, different reactions.

And then he did something that was common to both your culture: he kissed you.

He leaned in, almost impatient, pressing harshly his lips onto yours, with a force that left you aching desperately.

Almost as desperate was his grip onto your hands, as he pinned them onto your lap.

Peter had always touched you so distractedly as if you could have been anybody under his hands, but Oleg had a flame in the way he deepened the kiss, making you open your mouth, that would have been almost too violent, hadn’t you been aching for him so desperately.

As you both lost your breath, you lightly distanced yourself from him to take again your breath, turning your head not to show Oleg the deep shade of red on your cheeks, due to embarrassment and your lost breath, as you tried to collect yourself.

Any dizziness from the wine gone and replaced by your desperate need for Oleg.

“Did I scare you, kroshka” his gaze was burning into you, daring you to turn back and face him.

“… I just need to take…” you tried to calm yourself with a small smile “… a breath”.

“I didn’t mean to come onto you this strong” his voice was seriously worried and as you turned lightly, looking at his hands, he seemed to be stopping himself from touching you again “… you must think I am a Мудак…”.

“I am not… I can do my own decisions” you retorted, not wanting to be made feel like a breakable good, because you weren’t in any shape or form, and even if you couldn’t stop the contrasting feelings in the pit of your stomach, you didn’t want to go back to that insecurity.

Oleg’s kiss had ignited something in you, that brought you to feel desperate and bothered.

You didn’t feel like going back to the vulnerable state you had always been, when Oleg treated you like his most beloved possession, with desperation in his eyes

“Don’t try to fix me, I’m not broken” you spoke your words slowly, to make them more meaningful as you inched closer, till you were right onto his laps, your hands cornering his face, as they set on his shoulder to steady yourself, your lips coming closer “… don’t worry, I am a big girl and I know what I am getting into”.

And you were the one who initiated the kiss, it was more teasing and softer as you smashed your lips together, biting lightly at first his upper lip, before delving into the bottom one, as he tried to get some control of the kiss, slipping his tongue in your open mouth, but you immediately closed it, distancing yourself quickly, with a smirk on her face.

And then you did it all the same, stopping every time Oleg tried to control it, in a way that was making him grow restless between you, as the atmosphere moved to a more tender and relaxed one, your teasing giggles making Oleg smirk into your mouth, although his hands wandered, gently caressing your back, and then moving slower and slower…

“… what do you say we move this to my bedroom?” he suggested, wiggling his eyebrow at you as he pushed you closer to him, with his hand onto your back.

And although the kisses had broken a few of your insecurities, now you couldn’t help but doubt the professionality of it; what would have happened if he wanted simply a night of sex?

What if he was disappointed and you had to see him around?

You tensed against him at all those thoughts, even more at the realization that suddenly you wanted more than sex, although you weren’t sure of Oleg’s opinion.

Which was definitely not a good idea.

“What is troubling you, kisa?” he asked again softly, his eyes searching yours as he adjusted your hair behind your ears, pushing a soft kiss on the exposed skin, making you tremble lightly, melting under his attentive touch.

“… you are my boss…” you mumbled voicing your inner conflict, avoiding his eyes as you let yourself lean in further in his kisses “… wouldn’t this… ahem… be unprofessional”.

“If this is up to me…” he had a devilish smirk that made you tighten the grip onto your thighs, splayed on him “… I don’t think this is unprofessional, but I may be a bit egoistical, since I have been pretty in love with that body and mind of yours, since I first saw you”.

Had he seriously said ‘love’?

“What if… things are awkward?” because you couldn’t envision a bright side of this without a dark one.

“Then you are here only for two more weeks, and then I’ll disappear from your life” his voice had a nostalgic tone that made you caress his handsome face, starting from that strong jaw that tried to form a small smile “… but believe me, I don’t disappoint ladies, I never have”:

You giggled, a bit comforted by his words, and too far gone behind his charms to do anything more than nod softly and let him softly raise you from the sofa as you nodded against him.

“… then maybe you should show me those skills ‘that never disappoint ladies’ “.

“Your word my command, printsessa”.

And that’s how you ended onto Oleg’s antique bed, still comfortable enough as Oleg pushed you onto, your back arched against him, rutting like an animal against his growing erection, the size of it already impressive, brushing against you through his sweatpants.

He was still dressed, but you had already discarded your dress, which he had thrown out carelessly once you were back on your feet on the threshold of his bedroom, barely giving you the time to look around as he gripped onto your thighs, raising you as you giggled.

Then your stockings had been quickly discarded, being ripped off your body.

You had almost squealed in shocks as you fell onto the bed, completely losing yourself in Oleg’s savage gaze, as you pushed him playfully.

“Ripping my clothes won’t get you any points, prince!” you shot back, and his hand simply lowered itself cupping your sex, making you smirk lightly, as he looked at you smugly.

“… then why are you wet?” and he brushed his fingers a few times more onto your clothed core “… should I assume that this is the outcome you had hoped for tonight? Your matching bra and panties say so to me, at least”.

“No, you just got lucky” you retorted softly, wanting to knock down his ego a few notches

Although it seemed impossible.

Your bra had been discarded with much more gentleness, the man unhooking it expertly with just one hand, meanwhile the other already gripped one breast softly, as he mouthed sweet loves bites and kisses onto your neck.

He groped you with his big hands, rolling his nipples against his palms in a rough motion that made you screech softly as his mouth caught yours again, pulling your hair back to get the full control of the kiss.

You weren’t able to deny him or tease him as you had done on the sofa.

“… I think that I got lucky from the minute I saw you in that awful hall, Gosh the sight of these tits accompanied my dreams for quite a few nights”.

You were almost relieved to know you hadn’t been the only one to dream about this.

Although you weren’t going to tell the man, his ego almost as big as…

His erection brushed through your barely clad core and you ate up a moan, biting down onto Oleg’s lower lip in an attempt to calm your feverish body, which instead continued to follow him desperately, as he realized the soaking situation down there.

Your panties doing not much to hide it.

And even less as he slipped them, ripping them off.

“You owe me a new pair”.

“I prefer the thought of you without them, so that I can pull you in the first hallway and make you mine” he muttered and then his attention shifted, something being ignited in his belly by your own desperation.

“… and what about the others?” you teased him as he moved to gently kiss his way down your body, stopping at your breasts to lavish them, almost torturing them since they were oversensitive from his hand, but you didn’t mind, and shifted one leg lightly to the side, a bit pushing it to your side, to let him feast his eyes onto the masterpiece between your legs “… what if they see me without panties?”.

His grip onto your hands, immediately froze you and made you smirk as you understood you had hit a sore spot, and slowly Oleg came face to face with you.

“Then we would have a problem” he smirked, but his eyes held a dangerous tone to his words, as he softly tapped at your thigh to make you focus and he lightly dragged the back of his hand against the soft expanse of your inner thigh “… because I don’t like others tampering with what is mine”.

“Am I yours?” you replied, playing a dangerous game with the man but true interest flashed in his eyes.

“… yes you are, dorogaya” he smirked softly, before he dove against your thigh pressing a kiss on the soft expanse, and right when you were relaxing he bit onto the skin, making you almost yelp at the surprise “… and believe me you’ll know by the end of the night”.

“Aren’t you pretentious, prince?” you shot back, teasingly “… always in need of something to stroke your big ego?”.

“Would you prefer to do the stroking?” he replied, almost purring, but didn’t give you any breath to reply as he dove from your thigh onto your wet heat, darting a soft kiss that stole your breath, as you kept it in your lungs, waiting for his next move.

And his hand joined his tongue on your sex in a delicious teasing that showed you shouldn’t have played around with this man: he was truly dangerous, as he withhold you with the gentlest of touches and a desperation that made you almost arch violently against him.

“… not so powerful, kisa, when your nails are not sharpened” he joked with you, as he gently licked onto your pearl, his fingers dipping teasingly past your folds, making you adapt yourself around them, as you wetted them with your essence.

There was something so primal in your coupling with him that didn’t allow you to feel anything else than the moment.

No shame for screwing your boss, or insecurity for what Peter hadn’t seen in you.

You almost felt beautiful, worshipped under his attentive care.

And when he had enough of that he made you feel like a true woman.

He pushed you onto your hands and knees, something which surprised you quite a bit, since he had been teasing but mostly attentive and gentle, and in your previous sexual experiences you had never done it in any other way than missionary.

But you were under his spell.

And let him push his cock into you, as it penetrated you to a new angle.

Your folds engulfed him easily till half of his length, the lack of something bigger than your fingers making itself known to you as Oleg gently pressed his fingers down your clit to make you relax around him.

In a way he was gentle, completely contrasting with the vulgar position he was having you in.

But Gosh, as the pain and your tightness passed, you couldn’t help but love the way he pounded onto you, almost threatening to make you fall onto your back, as his touched yours and his hipbones, slapped your base ass, definitely red marks would be blooming on it, the following day.

You tried your best to hold yourself off on your own hands, but not only supporting your weight was tough with all the pleasure coursing through your body, but Oleg’s relentless rhythm made you dizzy, and you almost fell face first in the pillow.

The pillow almost suffocated you, till Oleg just caught you by your hair and pushed you to sit right onto his cock, his beard brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck, as another hand sneaked on your waist to keep you steady as his thrusts became slower but not less brutal.

But the angle he found hit your ‘special’ spot perfectly.

“Look at you, zaika” he mumbled darkly in your ear, as his grip tightened onto your waist, his fingers dug in the flesh “… not even able to keep your pretty body straight… I wonder what you are good for”.

“… you are fucking me, aren’t you” you were simply able to utter, as a particular thrust made you moan out loud.

“Just a little nice fucktoy, aren’t you zaika?” he repeated, his smirk kissing your ear, as he speeded up his rhythm “… something to fill with my seed and my cock all night, if I want to”.

The sole thought of it made you ooze pure wetness onto his cock, as you tightened your grip around it.

“Not even able to answer me now, shluha”.

The reply seemed definitely less nice than all the petnames but it didn’t fail to arouse you any less.

“… I wonder how much it will take you to come…” he smirked softly, against you, cooing teasingly in your ear “… definitely not much with the way you are squee… Gosh… squeezing me”.

And it didn’t take you long indeed, the angle, the feeling of Oleg’s hands on you and the desperation in your entire body, making it impossible for you to stop the magical release that washed over you as you sank down onto him, completely, stilling as you rode the wave of the crashing emotion going through your body.

You were shaking so terribly that you weren’t sure whether an earthquake was going through your body or if it was your body creating it.

Oleg guided you through it softly, slower thrusts as he pushed himself in and out of you, almost completely, making you feel each inch of his manhood, in a way that overstimulated you, as you tried to grip him to keep him in you, in a desperate attempt to have more of him.

But he exited you and pushed you to roll onto your back, completely splayed against him, meanwhile he looked as composed as ever, his cock simply out of his boxers and pants, in a way that made you feel vulnerable and exposed.

It made you wet again for him.

Once he was out of you, he chased his own high with his hand, eventually coming onto your stomach as it slowly dropped onto your small Venus mount with a slow movement that made you clench your stomach under the different temperatures of his warm seed and your cold stomach, sweaty and suddenly exposed to the coldness of the room.

Oleg fell next to you ungracefully, but he sneaked a quick hand onto your stomach, playing with his cum, before he propped himself onto one elbow to look at you, a sweaty mess you were sure, but you weren’t able to deny him as he pushed his messy fingers past your mouth, looking at you as you tasted him.

Salty and warm it coated your mouth in a way that rendered your lips sticky and filled you as his cock had done with your cunt.

You wanted to taste him.

But you also needed a breather, as Oleg sank back down the bed, and you just tried to look out towards the opposite side, knowing that if you had taken a look at him right now, everything would have come crashing down.

You almost expected him to kick you out.

Maybe ask for another round, as he gently shifted away from the bed leaving you cold and unattended.

Gosh you should have definitely gone away.

And you were collecting your dress and your bra when he came back a soft towel in his hand and he had changed his sweatpants.

Probably because his previous ones were stained with your wetness.

You were unable to stare at him as he appeared in your vision.

“… already leaving, zaika?” he seemed almost… disappointed.

“I don’t think that I can immediately go another around” you replied, trying to avoid his gaze as he quickly settled onto the bed, the warm towel being moved onto your stomach to collect his sticky seed, for which you were grateful.

“… then we can cuddle, malishka” he replied as if it was obvious and he helped you settle down the covers, almost as a small child, a bit uneasy on your still-trembling legs, to which he shot a smug smirk.

“… don’t flatter yourself, I just haven’t had dick in a pretty long time” you told him, as you slapped his chest, just for him to grab tightly your hand and bring it to his lips.

“Then I do think that you might need more convincing”.

---

Please don’t judge my bad attempt with the Russian language!

Here are, by the way the meaning of each word:

Malishka=Babygirl.

Krasotka=Gorgeous.

Printsessa=Princess.

Dorogaya=Dear.

Zaika=Bunny.

Kroshka=Little One.

Kiska/KIsa=Kitten.

Сволочь=Asshole.

Мудак=Prick.

Shluha=BItch/Whore.

@ rainycloudstarlight @alyssa23145678910 @ squids-for-knees @youbloodymadgenius @queenboosha @barnzbucky @ itsleeshanotlouise @ confusedgirlyy @the--insignificant--one @roury12 @justsomestuffiguessman

#Oleg The Prophet #Oleg Reader #Oleg The Prophet Reader #Oleg x Reader #Oleg Imagine #Oleg Smut #Smut #Oleg Fic #Oleg The Prophet Fic #Challenge #Vikings #Vikings Imagine #Vikings Smut #vikings reader #Modern au

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handonshipper · 4 years

Text

A Twist Through Time: Chapter Three

Several hours later, the group had finally arrived in Mystic Falls. Hope had been sketching a couple of landscapes while they drove. It was pretty great, considering the fact she was in a car with regular pencils instead of artistic pencils. She wanted to talk her father. Or tell Dr. Saltzman. But Dr. Saltzman didnt even have much experience at this point. And telling her father wouldnt get her anywhere.

Klaus parked the car in front of his mansion in Mystic Falls and stepped out of the car, opening the passenger door for Hope, as he had made Rebekah sit in the back to watch Stefan. “You are a quiet one aren’t you?” He questioned looking at Hope. “Here I thought we could have bonded over your lovely torture ideas.” He smirked.

"I was busy sketching" Hope said, climbing out of the car, holding her sketchbook as she looked around and stepped away from the car. She wondered if her dad, as she knew him, would be proud of her trying not to change things. Not that she was doing a good job of that. "I prefer painting personally, but I sketch sometimes" she told him, holding the sketchbook. Her mind was turning as she thought about some parts of her life. The life she was forced to leave for the second time.

Rebekah got out of the car and dragged Stefan out forcefully. She was frustrated. Both with Stefan's betrayal and Klaus putting her in the backseat while the witch got the front seat.

Klaus looked at her curiously. What were the odds? He never truly met anyone else who was interested in art, which was why, for a moment, he was distracted from his vengeful thoughts and the plan to get the necklace. “As do I. Prefer painting I mean.” He said softly. “I mainly only sketch to plan out future paintings.” He wanted to say more, but as Rebekah spoke he was snapped out of his thoughts.

"So what's the plan, Nik? Did you plan to search for the necklace or should i?" Rebekah questioned, wanting both her necklace and to find out what was Stefan Salvatore's big secret.

“I will. And I will take Hope with me. Seeing as Mystic Falls has the very obnoxious Bonnie Bennett, it is only fair I have much more powerful witch with me as well.” He then looked at Stefan and stepped closer to him so he could compel him.

Hope smiled a little at that before it disappeared, her mind going to the first time she had painted with him. The only time.... The first day she had met him.

Stefan almost instinctively took a step back, but he knew it was no use. This was his punishment. And Klaus was faster and much more powerful.

Klaus stepped closer to him. While on the outside he portrayed a smug expression, inside he truthfully just wanted Stefan to hurt after betraying him. As he look into his eyes, he spoke calmly. “Turn off your humanity. And do as I say, until I demand otherwise.”

Elena wasn't there to help him fight it this time around. His pained eyes closed, and when he opened them again a moment later, his humanity was off. He felt free yet restrained at the same time. Restrained by his tie to what Klaus wanted and free from the guilt and the pain and the worry.

Hope watched, feeling a bit guilty but knowing it had to be done. Everything had to happen as close as possible. Otherwise the whole future could change. And as much as the future sucked in some areas for her, she couldnt risk it getting worse. She needed to ensure she would be born. And so would the twins.

She needed to get back to Landon.

Klaus smirked as he watched Stefan let go of the little bit of humanity he had left when he compelled him. “Well then. Now that we have that sorted, come along Hope. Let’s find that necklace.” He settled and looked over at Rebekah. “Babysit Stefan will you? I have important matters to tend to and anyone else will simply get in the way.”

Rebekah scowled at that and nodded, holding back remarks, before nearly dragging Stefan into the house. "Come on, Stefan" she said. Stefan chuckled softly and followed her inside. Not that he had much of a choice. She was strong.

Hope watched them go before looking at Klaus. "Alright. Let's go then"

Klaus watched the two in satisfaction before turning his attention back to Hope. “Right. What exactly happened when you performed the spell?” He asked curiously, wanting to get an idea on where to start looking.

"I saw two teenage girls" Hope said, looking at Klaus. "They were both brunettes. One was black and the other had olive totoned skin. They were talking about Stefan and wondering what bad things he was doing while off with you under your influence"

Klaus frowned at the description of the second teenager but didn’t think too much of it. He knew Elena Gilbert was dead and Katerina took off after he let her go. “Right. Well, let’s start with the local witch, Bonnie Bennett. With the right torture methods, anyone can be made agreeable.” He smirked.

"I dont usually torture people in my spare time." Hope said casually. "I did torture my ex boyfriend once though" She looked at Klaus. "A truth spell is always handy too. I could do one on Stefan to have him tell us who exactly he knows that has the necklace."

It wasnt much of a difference than Klaus suddenly finding Elena at least. And she wanted him to know she was on his side. He was her father after all. She loved him. Suddenly a thought occurred to her.

"While I'm trying to figure out the spell that brought me to Stefan's apartment, I plan on helping you" she said, looking at him. "And I'm not necessarily asking for anything in return. Except maybe a place to stay while I try to figure out the spell. But there is something I am looking for. A magical object. If you dont want to help me find one, I get it. I'm not only agreeing to help you if I get it. But I would appreciate it. It's a prism that lets someone talk to their subconsious. If you've ever seen or heard of one"

Klaus felt a frown forming the more he listened to her. Ever since he met her there had been something off about her. Something he couldn’t quite place. Right now she was essentially trying to tell him how to do things, and instead of ripping her heart out, some minuscule part of him actually wanted to listen.

Granted he ignored that part, but the fact that it was there in the first place troubled him. “I have no objection to you staying in this house. I won’t be here for a while once I find the necklace anyway. As for your magical object, I may have heard whispers of something like that. However, I cannot say I’ve come across one. Still, I see no harm in assisting you with it in my spare time. You might just be the only witch in existence who’s presence I can actually tolerate.” He snorted. “In regards to the necklace...I never said you had to partake in torture. Though it is my preferred method of interrogation.” He smirked and looked towards the house. “Especially to those who have betrayed me. Thank you for suggesting I begin with Stefan.”

She couldnt help the small smile that formed on her face as he mentioned that he could tolerate her. Considering he didnt know her or the fact he had a child, this was touching. She knew he hadn't been fond of witches before, only using them when he needed them.

"Thank you" Hope said once he finished speaking. She really just wanted it to feel less alone here. To talk to Landon, even if it is fake. "As for the topic of betrayal, it isnt something I take lightly. The ex boyfriend I mentioned? He lured me into a trap that caused the death of my mother" She wasnt holding a grudge against him anymore. She knew it wasnt his fault. He had been brainwashed by his Nazi vampire mother. But....at the time, the betrayal had affected her strongly. So much she had closed herself off even more.

Klaus’ expression softened for a split second before it quickly returned back to normal. Sympathy and pity weren’t emotions he normally experienced, certainly not to total strangers. “My condolences then.

For your mother. I am glad you got your revenge against that man. It may not bring her back, but at least you have the satisfaction of looking back and knowing you gave him hell just as well.” He said simply. He was silent for a few seconds, and eventually spoke again. “The necklace I am searching for is to communicate with my mother. When I was young she placed a curse on me. And now that I’ve broken it, there are certain aspects of it that aren’t exactly as they should be.”

Hope listened to him and nodded. "Thank you for telling me" she said, appreciating the information even though she already figured that out. "I will do what I can to help you figure out why things arent as they should be" Hope said softly

Klaus gave her a nod, truly surprised a stranger was willing to pledge her loyalty to him so easily while his own siblings were not. “I suppose I should thank you as well. For your assistance. It isn’t easy for anyone to do that when it comes to me. Certainly not witches. I am what the entirety of the world calls an abomination. A hybrid. Both werewolf and vampire.”

"You're not an abomination. You're different. You're unique. But that doesnt have to be a bad thing."

Hope said, thinking of what her mother had told her once or twice in the past.

Klaus blinked slowly, genuine surprise clouding his features for a moment until a small, but genuine smile formed on his lips. It disappeared just as quickly, but it had been there. “I suppose I’ve never quite heard that. Especially given the fact that the curse my mother placed on me was to keep my werewolf side dormant. Now that I’ve broken it, I want nothing more than to create more of my kind. In a way...it is my revenge towards her.” At least that was part of it. The other part being of course that he didn’t wish to be alone. But he chose not to say that.

Hope nodded at his words. She knew how it felt to be the only one of her species. She knew it felt lonely at times. Like your existence was a mistake. A random chance. And it didnt help that the witches think neither her or her father should exist

More so her than her father. "I can't even imagine what that must have been like for you, having part of yourself locked up inside." And to think she nearly let it happen to herself.

Klaus shifted his gaze away from her and nodded. “It feels like...” He sighed softly. “Like being chained up in the smallest of cages. The more you struggle, the harder they grip at you, all while the cell closes in tighter and tighter.” He explained quietly, never having been that open with anyone about it. “It’s impossible to understand unless you have been through it, but that is the best way I can explain it. Just imagine how you would feel if your magic was suddenly taken from you. Knowing you are a witch, yet not being able to perform a single spell.”

Hope nodded a little at that, frowning at the mere thought of her father going through it. "And you've suffered with that for a thousand years?" She said quietly.

Klaus nodded in confirmation and slowly looked back at her. “Yes. Just a little over a thousand years. I finally broke it recently. However, when I attempted to turn werewolves into hybrids, they only died.

Seeing as my mother created the curse, I figure she must have the answers as to why it is failing.”

"Well, we should go find the necklace then" Hope said, looking at him, knowing they had gotten distracted from the goal by their personal talk

Klaus nodded, slowly coming back to reality. “Right. I suppose you performing that truth spell on Stefan would get us the answer quicker. I can always torture him later.”

Hope nodded and went inside the house. She went over to Stefan and casted the truth. "Did you give Rebekah's necklace to anyone?"

Stefan looked at Hope. "Yes" he said.

"Who did you give it to?" Hope questioned.

"Elena Gilbert" The vampire answered.

Klaus followed Hope into the house and watched as she performed the spell. When he heard the answer Stefan gave he blinked in surprise. “Elena Gilbert is alive?” He smirked. “Ah. Suddenly it all makes sense.

Why you wanted to keep me away from finding the necklace.” He chuckled in disbelief. “No matter.

Now I get to kill her twice. Luckily for me, you no longer care.”

"Wait" Hope said, looking over at Klaus. "We should find the necklace and communicate with your mother first. That should remain our priority" Especially since Elena surviving was crucial.

Klaus frowned when he heard Hope speak. Instantly his paranoid self wanted to get the best of him, but he did his best to push that feeling away. So far Hope had proven she was on his side. And he did need to get the necklace. “Fine. Though after that, I’m having Stefan rip out her heart himself.” He muttered before heading out of the house.

Hope glanced over at Stefan before following Klaus out of the house. "Alright. So if Elena has the necklace, where would she be?"

“We can check her house first.” Klaus suggested knowing even if he didn’t find her there, he could always get her there by using her family. They were her weakness. Something he learned when he first met her.

Hope nodded at his words. "Alright then. Let's go" she said, looking over at him. "Lead the way"

Klaus nodded and held out his hand to her. “We will get there faster using vampire speed.” At this point all he wanted was to get the necklace. He could leave torturing both Elena and Stefan for later.

"Alright." She said softly. Hope nodded and took his hand without hesitation, something that was unusual for Klaus. She clearly trusted him.

Klaus blinked when Hope suddenly took his hand. He stared at her, both confused and shocked for a second, not really knowing what to say. Eventually he decided his questions would have to wait. Right now finding the necklace was more important. Which was why he held her hand firmly and sped over to Elena Gilbert’s house.

#vampire diaries #tvd #legacies season 2 #legacies cw #cw legacies #legacies #hope mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #stefan salvatore #rebekah mikaelson #a twist through time #a twist through time chapter three #chapter three

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writingdayandnight · 4 years

Text

Never Really Over (Part Two) - Rafael Barba Imagine

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reagan!Reader (Blue Bloods)

Word Count: 2.1k

Part One: (x)

A/N: Here’s part two! Flashbacks are in italics. Let me know if I should leave it here or make a little series. Feedback is always appreciated!! x

You laid in bed, flat on your back staring at the ceiling. Tears stained your cheeks and the pillowcase. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear the alarm going off beside you. Reluctantly, you dismissed the alarm and tossed your legs over the side of the bed.

Today was New Year’s Eve, so you had taken the day off work. You couldn’t bare the idea of walking into the precinct after everything that had happened less than twelve hours ago. It hurt enough being there on normal days.

Opening the blinds, you saw a light cover of snow blanketing the ground. The brought a small smile to your lips. Snow in New York was your favorite thing. You always thought you could brave the cold, but each time you were sadly mistaken. Cold hands and frozen ears were never worth it.

“It’s snowing pretty badly out there. Maybe you should stay the night,” Rafael spoke gently, rubbing circles on your bare back.

“I’ll be fine. You know how much I love the snow.”

“Y/N, it’s a blizzard out there. I just want you to be safe.”

His words made your heart skip a few beats. You were always the one protecting other people, so hearing someone express their concern over your safety was a welcomed change.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” you whispered, snuggling closer into Rafael’s arms. Soon enough, the two of you were asleep and intertwined.

You made your way to the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee. The smell always reminded you of Rafael for obvious reasons. You always said that he drank too much coffee, but he would simply reply, “Don’t worry about me, angel,” before placing a kiss on your cheek and leaving for work. He was as stubborn as they come, just like you.

Checking your phone, you noticed that you had 26 missed calls, all of them from Erin. You ignored her messages, except for the one about how she left your non-perishable groceries outside of the door. You made a mental note to thank her, grabbing the bags. Tonight’s party would prove a needed distraction from last night’s chaos. It had been a tough year for everyone; they deserved a night of fun, regardless of your emotional tumult.

Your mind drifted to the first New Year’s Eve you spent with Rafael, arguably the night that changed everything.

It was 11:55 PM and the party was still going strong. Everyone was exchanging New Year’s resolutions, ranging from working out more to using vacation days. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself in the kitchen. You were extremely grateful to be apart of such a loving squad.

“Do you need any help?” Rafael spoke, entering the kitchen.

“Do you mind handing me the empty bottles of champagne? I’ll use them for vases later.”

“Would have never taken you as a crafter,” he chuckled.

“There’s lots you don’t know about me, Barba.”

Your cheeks felt hot and flushed, as you brushed a piece of hair behind your ears. You could cut the tension with a knife. It was even worse when your hands brushed, the feeling of electricity lingering for longer than it should.

You began to hear the room chant, “TEN...NINE...EIGHT...”

Rafael grabbed your hand, spinning you around. You were cheek to cheek. “FIVE...FOUR....” On the count of one, Rafael, caressing your cheeks, planted a kiss on your lips.

“Happy New Year’s.” He smirked, leaving you speechless in the kitchen.

By noon, you had texted Carisi to stop at the store and pick up the butter, eggs, and drinks that you had left at the store. He lectured you about waiting until the last minute to shop, to which you replied with a simple, “Thanks, Sonny.”

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find the right placement for the decorations. There was too much gold in the living room but not enough in the kitchen. The streamers were too short and the balloons were taking forever to blow up. Nothing was going right. Overwhelmed, you sat down on the floor and began to cry.

It had been a hard day at work. You were coming off a double after working two cases, both involving children. It was dead end after dead end. Exhaustion and frustration had set in and you couldn’t hold back the tears. You sobbed, face in palms, hoping for a bit of release.

You were sobbing so hard that you didn’t even notice Rafael open the door. He immediately dropped his bag and coat to rush to your side. His arms were opening, engulfing you in a hug. He swayed, telling you that everything was going to be okay. Aware of the cases you had been working on, he knew you just needed silent support. A shoulder to cry on.

You sat like there for what felt like an eternity. Time had stopped and the only thing that mattered was the two of you. Before long, Rafael had ushered you to bed, offering you a glass of water and fresh pair of pajamas. You gladly accepted, falling into bed with little hesitation.

“I love you,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your cheek, before turning off the light. You fell asleep comforted by safety he provided.

You took a deep breath and wiped the tears from your face. You needed to freshen up before the guests started arriving. Carisi had just texted you that he was on his way and you didn’t want to put a damper on the party. Mainly, you didn’t want anyone to see you cry and ask what was causing it. You frankly wanted to forget that you had even seen Rafael.

Before you could make it to the bathroom, there was a knock at the door. You muttered a profanity under your breath, cursing Carisi and his infamous punctuality. Although, Carisi wasn’t the one at the door.

“Y/N,” a familiar stranger spoke.

“Rafael.” Tears began to well up and your hands were trembling.

He looked as emotionally-drained as you. You could tell he hadn’t slept either; the stubble on his chin and the dark circles under his eyes were a dead giveaway.

You shakily gestured for him to come in, barely managing to ask if he wanted anything to drink. He declined.

“I owe you an explanation,” he said.

You were anxious to get home and see Rafael. He hadn’t answered your calls or texts all day, which wasn’t unusual, but he didn’t have trial. He would at least send you a message around lunchtime telling you what time to expect him home. You received nothing today.

Opening the front door, you called out for your fiancé. No answer. You searched the house before finding a note on the kitchen counter.

It detailed how he needed a change. He had quit his job and needed to leave that world behind. Unfortunately, that meant leaving you. He reiterated how important you were to him and how much he loved you, but that apparently wasn’t enough to make him stay. He ended the note with the reassurance that you would always be his forever.

Just like that, three years of your life had come to an end. You were left without a fiancé, without your best friend. You were left with a shell of yourself, empty without your soulmate.

The only cliche worse than love at first sight was the idea that time heals wounds. Everyone had offered that maxim at family dinners, after a tough case, on what would have been your anniversary. Little did they know that you were falling apart. You tried to hold it together and put on a brave face, but it was hard. At one point you had considered moving to Chicago and forgetting about your life in New York. Deep down, though, you knew running wouldn’t solve the problem. The only thing that would was giving yourself time to grieve and acknowledging your strength, things you realized after seeing a therapist. Having somebody to talk to who was unfamiliar with your situation and who offered positive advice was everything you needed. Slowly, you began to become yourself again. Within the past three months, you had felt like a real human being for the first time since it all happened. You were beginning to heal.

“Where was my explanation when you left, Rafael? Because a letter wasn’t enough.”

“I know. You deserved more, you still do.”

The room fell silent. You noticed he was rubbing circles on the back on his hand, something that he did when he was nervous.

“Why did you do it? Why did you leave?” You pleaded for the truth, something you had been searching for over the past year.

“I needed a change. I wasn’t in the right headspace to give you my love for the rest of our lives,” he took a deep breath, fighting back tears, “I was telling Erin about my new job when you saw us, about how much better my life had gotten.”

You winced when he said that his life was better. Of course you wanted him to be happy, but why couldn’t he be happy with you?

He noticed your reaction, “What I mean by that is my life feels meaningful in every aspect except for love. I miss you, Y/N. I miss the life we had together, our friends, our future, our passion,” he reached out for your hand, but you didn’t reciprocate.

“I am glad that you’re happy. I wish nothing for the best for you, Rafael, but-” you stopped yourself, trying to find the right words, “why did you have to leave me?”

It was like your hearts both broke all over again.

“I don’t know. I...I thought that’s what I needed but I was wrong. Every step of the way I wanted you by my side, but I knew it was too late. Until I saw you last night.”

You shook your head, getting up from the couch. You began to pace, trying to fathom what had just happened. The love of your life, the one that left you after promising to be your forever, was trying to justify leaving you heartbroken. Why couldn’t you be there by his side on this journey? Was his life so horrible that he needed to rid himself of any remnants of the past? Why were you not enough to make him stay?

“How could you leave me like that, Rafael? I cried over you for months, praying every night that you would change your mind and walk through that door. Now that you’re here, I can’t stand to look you in the face. You broke my heart, Rafael,” you sobbed.

Tears were rolling down his cheeks as well. All he managed to respond with was a simple, “I don’t know.”

Then it hit you. You couldn’t change the past. You couldn’t stop Rafael from walking out the door. It happened, but it was all over now. Like the beginning of a new year, this opportunity offered you both a fresh start. That didn’t mean you had to get engaged again and live happily ever after. It simply meant that you had to let go of the past and focus on the present.

You stopped your pacing and sat to face Rafael. He truly did look miserable, regretful. It hurt to see someone you loved in that state.

“What’s your new job like?” You asked, clearly to his dismay.

“I began working with a domestic violence activist group. They were searching for counsel to do the legal work and it felt like the right thing to do. I couldn’t stand being a prosecutor anymore; it was killing me.”

“So you didn’t have a midlife crisis and become a golf instructor?” You both laughed, which helped to clear the air.

“No, I just bought a sports car and a timeshare in Miami.”

“I don’t blame you, that’s exactly what I would have done.”

Silence fell once again. This time it was a peaceful, providing you both with a moment to breath.

“Are you still having your New Year’s Eve party?” Rafael asked.

“Of course. I missed it last year because of, well you know, and I wasn’t going to miss it again.”

“Does karaoke machine still work?”

“It’s new, better than ever. The best part is our song is still loaded on there. We should break it out tonight,” you offered, hoping he would stay for the party. He deserved to deliver the rest of your friends and family the same explanation he had just given you.

“Does that mean you want me to stay?”

“For the party. As for the future? That depends on what song you choose for your comeback solo,” you taunted.

“That’s a fair trade off,” Rafael smiled, grabbing your hand.

For a split second, everything felt right again.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu imagine #svu imagine #svu x blue bloods #Blue Bloods #rafael barba: the man the myth the only one I'll ever truly love #imagine

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