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chuckbass-love · 4 years

Note

May I request a Ransom x Y/n fic where he goes to a pub after being taken out of the will and he see's y/n at a table crying because she's just been dumped

I love this idea!!

A/N: Just a heads up, i’m keeping the events of the movie in this where he goes back to the house to switch the medication and then have him go to the pub after that.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad or Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lots of angst, alludes to smut at first and then pure smutty filth. Fingering, oral (m and f receiving), protected sex, daddy kink, ass slapping and fluff overload. Heavy alcohol use, swearing and alludes to murder (the plot from the movie).

Word Count: 8,770

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @roooogers go check them out💜

Shoulder To Cry On

“Please, Anthony. Please. Don’t do this” your voice shaking with the fear of losing the one person who you assumed would always be around. Your brain trying to register everything he’s just said as tears drown your vision out causing everything to go blurry.

Weak body, silent screams and shaky hands. It’s real. But it doesn’t feel real. It feels like a dream. Like if someone were to pinch you now then you’d wake up and feel fine. But that’s far from your reality.

“You’re making a scene Y/N, everyone’s looking” he looks around him, watching on as everyone stares in your direction, enjoying the free show as they dine.

Is he serious?

“Me making a scene? You chose to do this here in front of everyone, knowing full well how i’d react” the anger coming out, the need to scream consuming you, so you do. You yell. You pick the food up in front of you and throw it at him. Bread, prawns, even your red wine.

“How could you do this to me? You fucking cheating scumbag” bottom lip trembling at the words leaving your mouth, the sick feeling working its way through your body and eventually settling in the back of your throat but you stop it.

You had plans for a lovely anniversary dinner tonight. Your boyfriend of 4 years Anthony. The man you’ve always seen yourself marrying and tonight, you thought was the night. That he’d finally get down on one knee and propose. But that was soon ripped away from you the moment the starters arrived.

He started his little speech about how he’s had the best time over the last 4 years with you, the memories you’ve made together.

Then came the moment that everyone dreads. The breakup speech.

He confessed to not feeling as happy as he once did with you and then he admitted to having a connection with some woman at work. His assistant. Jennifer.

And as much as he played it off like nothing happened, you’ve known him long enough now to see all of the tell tale signs. The way he rubs his ear lobe, the way he avoids your eyes and most importantly the way he stutters when he’s nervous.

His face has guilt and cheater written all over it. Your whole world feels like it’s crumbling around you and everything is a mess. Including your mascara.

You always had your suspicions about Jennifer but he was the perfect liar, a genius at concocting up excuses. The way he’d make your mind do a full 180 with your thoughts and feelings. Just like a magician tricking the audience. He pulled the wool right over your eyes and love enabled that, stopped you from asking all the questions that you should have thought to ask.

It’s like now, everything he ever said to you, all the happy memories and plans you made. They all seem so fake, like he never meant any of it. It’s gut wrenching. Sickening.

He’s a beautiful liar. He did it so effortlessly. Getting into bed next to you after no doubt being with her, touching her in the places he was only ever supposed to touch you.

But before you can even get to him, the restaurant staff make their way over, trying to remove you from the scene but you don’t even give them the chance.

“I’m going. Don’t fucking touch me” you hold your hands up, slipping your coat on and grabbing your purse.

“I hope one day you’ll experience how you’ve made me feel tonight” and that’s the last thing you ever said to him, picking your stuff up to leave.

All that anger and hurt eventually brought you here, the bar right round the corner from your house. You couldn’t bare the thought of even going home right away, let alone stepping foot in there. It’s too soon.

The house that’s jam packed with memories of the two of you. Photographs of you. The bed you’ve slept in every night with him for 2 years. Your skin itches.

That’s when you see someone sit down next to you at the bar but you don’t look. He still notices you though. Ogling you as he sips at his whiskey. The way your dress hugs your figure, the slit up the side, exposing your legs.

You hear his thick Boston accent ordering. Still refusing to turn your head. You really don’t want any bother tonight. You just need to drown him out. Drown out the way he smells, the way he touches you, the feel of his huge hands all over your skin.

Ransom doesn’t stop though, stealing glances here and there at you, trying to figure out the perfect chat up line to dish out. Then it comes to him, no chat up lines needed.

“What’s brought a beautiful girl like you here tonight then?”

The smirk that appears on his face comes out in his words, you can hear it but you’re really not in the mood so you order another drink, ignoring the stranger.

But the second you speak up, your voice giving your state away, causing Ransom’s head to shoot up, leaning closer to get a better look and that’s when he sees it. Your eyes that are filled with tears, the way you’re sniffles follow shortly after they fall.

“Wait, are you okay?” Genuine concern in his voice, not wanting to upset you even more by prodding too much.

“I’m fine” you spit, just wanting to be left alone to wallow. To over evaluate everything that’s gone down tonight. But that’s kind of hard to do with this man talking non stop.

“You don’t look fine”

“That’s because i don’t need nor want anyones pity” ouch.

“Who said i was pitying you?” he rolls his eyes, not even sure on what’s turned you so cold or should he say who. But he tried. Which isn’t usually in his nature.

See the events that lead Ransom to that little bar are slightly different to yours but nevertheless, he’s here with you so it doesn’t necessarily matter. The story should probably be told anyway though.

All was going so well in his world earlier today, he was happy as Larry, living off of his Grandfather, taking all he could get from him. He had everything. A bachelor pad that puts his friends one to shame, a beamer, scantily clad women at the click of his fingers and invitations to all the best parties in Boston. He was the most notorious playboy, everyone knows him.

The moment he stepped foot into his Grandfathers study, nothing was ever going to be same once he left. And that’s a fact.

Harlan broke the news about his will. How he changed it recently. Leaving his nurse Marta Cabrera with everything. Every. Last. Dime.

Meaning Ransom and his family will be pushed out of the mansion and Walt will be kicked to the curb when it came to Harlans publishing company, Blood Like Wine.

He argued with Harlan for what felt like forever, tried his best to plead his case and he even resulted to taking a threatening tone to his beloved Grandfather. Which of course, didn’t work. Leaving him angry, furious even. His blood was well and truly boiling. He’d had it. He couldn’t hear another word of that bullshit. So he stormed out. Bidding his great nana a swift goodbye in the form of resting his hand over her arm.

Once in his beamer, he screamed. Smacking the wheel with all of his might before stepping on it, pulling out the space and up the driveway. He had to get out of there and fast.

But halfway up the drive, he slams on the breaks when an idea begins to form, causing him to turn around. Parking away from the mansion first before creeping his way back in.

He climbs the wall at the side of it, up to the secret window that he discovered in his childhood. Once he’s in he finds Marta’s medical bag, opening it and switching his grandfathers meds, making sure to take out the one saving grace that could ruin his perfect plan.

With that secured in his pocket, the bag is zipped back up and placed back where he found it and he’s leaving the same way he came. Back down the side of the house but before he can make a quick run for it, he sees his great nana in the window. Staring at him, without blinking. He waits to see if she’ll speak but she never does, so he turns to leave, making it back to his beamer without a single person catching him. Great nana doesn’t count, there’s a very slim chance that she didn’t even know it was him. After all, she didn’t say a word.

All done now though, the plan is now in full swing. Soon Marta will take Harlan up to bed to give him his medicine. That’s when she’ll give him the overdose on morphine. Or the good stuff as they like to call it.

And eventually it’ll start to come together.

Marta will get arrested for Harlan’s murder, the money and all of the assets that were once hers will be stripped away and they shall all be returned to their rightful owners. His family and him of course. One thing that should be made abundantly clear about Ransom is that he’ll only ever help or get involved when there’s something in it for him. However, he’s not always evil, he has a soft side, it rarely comes out but make no mistake, it’s there alright.

With his evil plan in place, he heads back home but before he even gets there, he passes a quaint little bar at the side of the road. He could really do with a drink right now. Of course a taxi home will be required but with thousands about to grace his bank account, what’s 10 or more dollars on taxi fairs. Exactly, it’s pittance to him.

The second he enters, all eyes are on him. All but two. Your eyes. You’re sat at the bar, head in your hands and from what he can see, you’re dressed all fancy. Too fancy for this place that’s for sure. So he makes his way over, noticing the disgusted looks out of the corner of his eye. He’s never been here before, so of course he’s the newbie to all of the regulars.

That then leads to now.

You turn to face him, your sad eyes meeting his dreamy ones. The only way to describe them. You find yourself on the verge of getting lost before you break the gaze. Nodding towards the barman who slides another shot over to you to which you knock back like it’s nothing before continuing to sip Gin.

Just one look from you and he can see that something isn’t right.

“What’s got you crying all on your lonesome?”

“More like who” you respond, chuckling as more tears fall.

He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off “i had the lovely pleasure of being dumped tonight” you muster up your best fake smile, as if somehow acting like everything is okay will suddenly make it all okay for real. But it’s no use, you still feel torn to pieces. Your heart is still on the floor, it’s been stomped on way too many times for you to count on two hands and you’re life is a complete shambles.

He doesn’t love you, Y/N. He doesn’t love you anymore but then again, did he ever?

“I’m sorry to hear that and for what it’s worth, the guys a jackass for doing that to you”

His comment has your brows furrowing in question. What does he mean by that? But you don’t even get a chance to ask, he can sense your confusion a mile away.

“I just meant that you’re gorgeous. He’s a fool” his nice side coming out to play, he’s never this nice to a woman unless he plans to sleep with her. But this time, it’s different. You’re different. He can never bring himself to pray on you like one of those other girls. Because he can see it, that you’re drained. You’ve had enough. Your ex made a fool of you enough already so who is he to add to that?

“Yeah right, he cheated so i doubt that very much” you snort, knocking back the rest of your drink.

At this point the bartender doesn’t even need you to ask for another, he’s probably realised by now that he should keep them coming.

“What an asshole”

Why does he care? He’s just a stranger. But still, you agree with him.

“Yup”

And just like that, a conversation blossoms.

Drinks flow as you explain the events of tonight and he doesn’t interrupt you. He just lets you speak, it’s almost like he can sense that you just need someone to listen, like all you need is to let out all of your emotions. Even if it is to a complete stranger.

Who by the way isn’t bad in the looks department.

Wait. No. You can’t think that.

Surely it’s fine to think it, just as long as you don’t act on it. Although, you are available now so there would be no harm.

“So let me get this straight. The man took you to dinner for your 4 year anniversary, let you get all dolled up, makeup, hair, nails. The works. Just to break it off with you and tell you he’s met someone else?” his brows raising and you nod, ashamed of how you’ve been treated because ultimately, you really did look like the idiot tonight.

You bought an expensive dress just for this very occasion and you did look the best you’ve ever looked. Radiant and glowing. Your makeup was on point, as was your hair. But now, you’ve got mascara everywhere and you’re way over the line of tipsy.

“I don’t get it. You’re well, you. I mean look at you and he left this for another woman? It makes no sense. There’s no way i’d ever give you up. No chance. No way” the way you feel your cheeks warm at his obvious compliment. You’re almost certain that he’s sweet talking you now. It took him a total of 2 hours. And he finally gave it a go. But you’re not complaining.

“LAST ORDERS” the bartender pulls you from your thoughts. That’s when you turn to look at him, still not knowing the perfect strangers name.

“Um, i guess i should get going” the very sentence makes that sick feeling come back but just like earlier, you push it away, stopping it before it comes spewing out on the bar. There would have been no time to run to the bathroom.

“I guess i should too” he smiles softly, shrugging his coat on and standing up.

That’s when the height difference is clear. He towers over you, making you feel small and dainty.

He gestures for you to head out first and as you glance back over your shoulder, you see him sliding some money to the bartender. No doubt, he paid for all of those drinks that you forgot to even pay for. Fuck.

These heels are way too high and your vision blurs a little as you stumble out the door but before you can even fall to the ground and face plant, he catches you, lifting you up and walking you over to what looks like a taxi.

“Come on you, let’s get you home. Where’d you live?”

Your mind goes blank as you stare at him before muttering “i don’t want to go home, i can’t go home. He’ll be there. Don’t make”

He cuts you off, pulling you closer to him and giving the cabbie his address instead. Wait. His place?

“I guess i should probably tell you my name being as you’re gonna be in my house soon huh?” he chuckles, spurring your own laughing fit.

“Do tell, mystery man”

“Ransom”

“I don’t have any money to pay you, not that i need to anyways, just tell me your name”

“No, no. My name is Ransom” his laughter fills your ears.

Strange name. Strange man.

“Surely not”

“Sure is. Well technically it’s my middle name. But i really can’t reveal anymore than that”

“Well i’m Y/N by the way and can i just say, you smell amazing” ah, the part where you make an utter show of yourself by leaning closer and closer, until your face is inches from his neck. That’s when you inhale really dramatically. Getting a good whiff of his manly scent. It’s intoxicating.

Luckily for you, he takes it all in good humour, probably because you’re drunk.

The rest of the ride back to his consists of you getting overly touchy, making random comments and with Ransom being the playboy that he is, it’s a real struggle for him not to fuck you here and now. Even in front of the cabbie. It wouldn’t be the worst place he’s fucked.

Yes you’re drunk but your hands are roaming to places they shouldn’t be and now he can feel a situation forming in the shape of a huge hard on.

Not that you notice, you’re too wrapped up in your own drunken state, blissfully unaware.

He can’t fuck you anyway. You’re too drunk. He’ll have to sober you up first.

The taxi comes to a halt and you look out of the windows, noticing a huge house, too posh for the likes of you but clearly fitting for a man like Ransom. He pays the cabbie before getting out.

You sit there clueless until you feel him scoop you up in his arms. He kicks the the door shut, walking the both of you to his house. He fiddles around in his pocket, holding you up with one arm so that he can open it and put you down on the couch.

“Is this your place?”

“It is indeed”

“It’s so big”

He lays you down, pointing his index finger in your face as he warns you “stay here, okay? Don’t move”

The child in you starts to emerge, the pout and puppy dog eyes coming out “yes sir”. You salute him and watch him strut away.

When he returns, his coat is off and he’s just in his white shirt, grey cardigan and his slacks.

“Here, drink this, it’ll help”

“Ew what is this?” your face screws up, disgusted at the taste “are you trying to poison me?”

“It’s just water, don’t be so dramatic. Drink it”

“What if i wanted another drink”

He just shakes his head disapprovingly. You’re really having none of it and he can’t fuck you like this. He makes it his mission to make sure all the women he’s with can actually remember what’s going on. Plus he needs your consent first.

“Drink. I won’t tell you again” his scary side showing just a tad but he soon shuts that off, realising how bossy and intimidating he sounds “wait, sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you”

Shouting and confrontation has always scared you. You’ve always had this natural instinct to cower and hide.

But this time, all you can really do is back up, to the other end of the couch.

“You’re just really drunk and it’s not doing you any good. Especially with everything that you’ve gone through tonight” wow. He’s even surprised himself with that one.

It’s not that he doesn’t care about you or your feelings because he most certainly does. He’s liked being there for you tonight, even if you did start out as two strangers at a bar. It distracted him from his own drama filled life. But your freaky side was showing on the taxi ride over and it awakened something inside of him.

Not in the way that some may think. Sure he’d love nothing more than to fuck you senseless, make you forget everything even if it’s just for the night but most importantly. He felt something more than just lust when you were touching him.

And as strange as that is to admit, it felt amazing. Like fucking you wouldn’t just be for the sake of it. You wouldn’t just be another notch on his bed post. It’s almost like his heart knows something that his brain doesn’t know yet.

Eventually he gets you to slowly sip at the water until half of it is gone and then the whole thing. You’re still tipsy but a little better than you were before the water.

“Did you want any food? I could order in? It might help?”

“I mean i did sort of throw my prawn starter at my ex”

He can’t contain his laughter, leaning back on the couch and throwing a hand over his left boob. You really are hilarious to him. He’s so amused by you and he doesn’t ever want this night to end. Even if it doesn’t end in sex, which it will. He’d be satisfied.

Something that Ransom Drysdale would never ever think or say.

“So food then?”

You nod before shaking your head aggressively.

“Actually no. No food. I already feel like i’m going to hurl. Food will just make that worse”

He seconds that, taking your empty glass from your hands and disappearing to refill it before returning it to you.

“You best drink up then if you aren’t planning to eat”

So you do as he says, stopping after a couple of sips due to your eyes noticing more and more about him that you never noticed before. Like his slicked back hair, his broad shoulders and oh shit. Is that a boner?

It’s gotta be right.

Your still tipsy self hands him the water for him to place on the coffee table for you and that’s when you do the unexpected. You make your way over to him, sitting way too close. Your bare arms rubbing against the soft and thin material of his cardigan.

“You alright?”

The way he acts like he cares, which, he does. It’s soothing, the gentle tone in his voice. The way he’s treating you like you’re glass and he doesn’t want to break you. And he’d be right, because you are delicate. Not your body of course but your heart, your soul, your mind. Not that there’s much left of your heart after Anthony broke it.

“I’m okay, i’ll be better after i get this dress off though” the flirty side of you starts to make an appearance. You look down, twiddling your thumbs as he clears his throat, clearly didn’t expect a comment like that.

“I guess i could fetch some of my clothes for you to wear?” his suggestion, whilst very cute and gentleman like, isn’t what you were after. And he’s far from a gentleman. You can just tell.

“I don’t think you understood” you turn around, back facing him “i need some help. Please” eyelashes batting as you quickly look over your shoulder at him and seconds later, you feel his hand move your hair to the side.

The zipper glides down with ease causing the straps to fall down your arms and soon enough. You stand up, letting it fall into a puddle on the floor. Leaving you in nothing but your matching blue laced, bra and panties set. Along with your heels of course. It’s the set that you bought for tonight too. For the sex you never ended up getting.

For the first time ever, Ransom is rendering on speechless, his mouth waters at the most incredible sight in front of him and he can tell from that look in your eyes that you want him.

Something he never expected to happen so fast. That’s when you sit back down next to him, resting your hand on his thigh.

“You know i should really thank you for tonight”

“Honestly, it was nothing” his words are aimed at you whilst his eyes are fixated on your body, not even trying to hide it from you but you just lap it up. You could use some attention right now. After all, your confidence was knocked with your ex boyfriend’s revelation.

“No, really. It was nice. You’ve been amazing. So let me thank you” but before your lips can touch his, he pulls back. Looking at you as his hand caresses your cheek, staring into your eyes like he’s looking into your soul and you feel close to naked in more ways than one.

That’s when his lips crash to yours in an intense and very heated kiss. As his hands roam around your half naked figure, you position them at the back of your bra, signalling to him that you want him to remove it. Which of course, he does.

He pulls away for a couple of seconds, taking a moment to look at your breasts. And the way he cups them with his large hands before using his thumb and index fingers to pinch at your now hard nipples, has you moaning into the kiss. Leaving your lips parted just enough for his tongue to slip in, adding to the build up.

The battle for dominance begins and it goes back and forth between you both, your hunger is very much profound. As is Ransom’s. The moans he’s eliciting are almost porn star like and he’s barely even touched you. But that’s the beauty of it, it feels so good that you’re keening for more. Which earns a low and raspy chuckle.

It doesn’t take long before you’re straddling him, legs either side with your hands cupping his face. His hands rested on your waist, squeezing slightly, almost like he’s making sure you don’t go anywhere. And after the day he’s had. He needs someone, whether he admits it or not. He does.

But that’s all he’s ever wanted. Is someone. Someone to talk to, someone who will listen and be there. He can’t complain about how that’s not the case though, he’s brought it all on himself. The loneliness, it’s killing him but he chooses to push everyone away.

His family though, that’s all them. They made him this way. A scheming, money grabbing playboy. It doesn’t mean the facade doesn’t drop once he’s all alone though.

However, it never drops around others. So why is it dropping around you?

“God, i needed this” he pants, in between his kisses that he’s peppering from your lips to your jawline and then your neck. It takes him next to no time at all to find the one spot that drives you insane and when he notices the way your whole body shivers. He smirks, sucking and biting it along with the equal amount of wet kisses.

“Me too. Fuck, right there” you mewl, back arching in his hands as they splay across it before moving down to settle on your panties. His finger traces the top of them, following them as it dips into your ass before giving your ass cheeks a hard smack.

God if this is how incredible you feel just kissing and touching the man then sex must be a real first place prize.

Just the way he’s handling your body alone is enough to send you over that sweet cliff but you stop it, holding back by pushing his face away from your skin, interrupting the hickey he was clearly in the middle of making.

“I wasn’t done with you, come back here”

You stop him again “i need you” you whisper frantically, both of your chests rising and falling. Your heart is beating like crazy.

“Patience baby” he winks, standing up with you in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist and your arms holding onto his broad shoulders for support as he carries you up the stairs and into what looks like his room.

Before you even have time to pause for so much as a second, he throws you to the bed.

“I wanna take my sweet little time with you” he starts, the bed dips as he gets on it, hovering above you “gonna worship every inch of your body” he lowers himself so that he can kiss your lips, then your jawline, then your neck and then eventually, the valley between your breasts.

“Gonna show you what your worth baby, prove to you that you’re better than that scum who didn’t treat you the way you deserve” also something that’s unlike Ransom. But if there’s one thing he’s a pro at, it’s pleasuring a woman. He knows what the fuck he’s doing. He can talk the talk and walk the walk. Which he’s about to prove to you right now.

He lowers himself down to your sex, the way the pool is growing more and more is obvious, he can smell it and even see it, the way the light blue material has darkened around your tight hole.

You spread your legs open wider, your way of inviting him in. Of course he accepts. He starts off by pressing a thumb down onto your clit, moving it around in circles and causing you to jolt. You’ve been craving someone, anyone at this point to touch you there. Maybe that should have been a sign that things were doomed with you and Anthony since he’s not touched you in months. Maybe that was a sign you should have seen, a red flag that you were too blind to notice.

“Look at you, so flustered already. God i can’t wait to fuck you”

“Please” you beg, pathetically.

“Nuh uh baby, i told you i wanna take my time, starting with this pretty little pussy” he hooks his fingers into the hem, using that to pull them down and off of your legs before throwing them behind him, not caring where they land.

“My oh my, it is a pretty little pussy, isn’t it. God you’re soaked baby, all this for me?”

“All for you” your confirmation leads him to lick his lips before pressing a couple of open mouthed kisses to the inside of your thighs.

“That man is an idiot. But i guess his loss is my gain. Ain’t that right baby” he winks as his kisses get closer and closer to your arousal covered hole.

“Ransom, plea- OH FUCK” his mouth latches onto your clit, sucking as his tongue flicks across it rapidly. A sensation you’ve never felt before that makes your breathing hitch, your hands run through his locks, no doubt messing them up, not that he’s showing any signs of caring.

All that Ransom cares about right now is making you feel good, making you cum.

“Like this baby? Like my mouth all over you?” his eyes meet yours as he uses his fingers to spread you open so that he can really get a good eyeful “you’re dripping” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself and not to you. He slowly slides one finger in before resuming his attention on your folds and your bundle of nerves.

“More, i need more. I need you” as flattered as he is by your desperation and need to feel every inch of his thick cock, he has to prepare you. Most of the women he’s been with have never had someone as big as him before, so he always likes to get them ready and you are no exception.

“Patience baby, you’ll have me. All in good time”

His raspy voice has you melting alone and the way he’s working you over, slipping a second digit in, should be criminal. How can a man like this be single and alone? It makes no sense. Plus it doesn’t hurt that he’s loaded too.

It’s a mystery that you’ll be sure to get to the bottom of once you’re done here.

A third finger is added and he’s curling them all more and more each time he bottoms out, your back arches again, your grip on his hair gets tighter. But he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t stop. Not even for a second. He’s a man on a mission right now.

The way he’s sucking on your clit, the way his fingers are filling you up and the way he’s slurping at you like a drink is something you’ll never and could never compare to anything you’ve ever experienced. He’s a literal god and he has your walls fluttering around him, your clit pulsating in his mouth.

“Feel the way your squeezing me baby, you gonna cum? Huh? Gonna cum all over my fingers” the pure filth that he’s spewing, is what has you coming face to face with stars. And Ransom can feel the way your hips bucks up into his face, the way your hands keep him locked there until they are pushing him away due to how sensitive you are. He doesn’t budge though.

He just laps at your sex again and again before finally withdrawing his fingers, noticing your slick coating them and dripping down his hand.

“Jesus, looks like somebody made a mess”

You can’t help the way your cheeks warm in embarrassment which he soon puts to bed by stuffing his fingers in his mouth to clean them off. Every last drop.

That’s when he takes it upon himself to drink directly from you, sticking his tongue into the honey pot, taking everything you have to offer “god so fucking sweet. I can’t get enough baby, tastes so fucking good”

A flirtatious giggle escapes, your hands covering your mouth but he rips them away.

“Don’t ever feel embarrassed or shy around me”

“Are you gonna fuck me now?” your teeth bite at your bottom lip as you shiver with the anticipation of what’s to come from him. His silence is deadly but exciting.

“Indeed i am”

He can most likely hear your heart race as he pulls away, getting off of the bed to undress himself. Starting with his cardigan and shirt. Once it’s off, his abs are revealed, his biceps are huge. You have the biggest urge to kiss him all over that chiseled body, sculpted by some kind of god. He’s gotta be a fantasy.

“But first baby” he trails off, pulling his slacks down and stepping out of them “you’re gonna suck my cock, get it nice and hard with that mouth of yours before i ram it into that tight little cunt” he pulls his boxers down, stepping out of them too and kicking both to the side before stalking closer.

You gulp, your eyes widen... he’s huge. Really huge. Thick too. Does he even need your mouth?

“What’s the matter baby? Is someone intimidated?”

“No” your denial, whilst very cute, isn’t believable. But he’s still going to let you have a go at wrapping that mouth around it.

You scoot off of the bed and fall to your knees, feeling even more dainty than you did before when he was towering over you like a giant.

“Don’t be shy baby, get to work”

Your hand wraps around him with your thumb swiping the pre cum that’s oozed out of the slit and you immediately pop your thumb into your mouth. You just want a small taste and as soon as the salty-sweet droplet hits your tongue. You all of a sudden crave more of it.

“Nice?” he asks, cocking a brow up “delicious” you smile, adding to his already blown up ego.

You gradually welcome him into your mouth, opening wider as each inch passes your lips until he’s almost bottomed out. That’s when you open wider and his tip hits the back of your throat making you gag, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth.

“You look so good taking all of me in that mouth, bet you’ll look even better when you’re taking me in that cunt”

Is he trying to kill you with his dirty talk? Most likely.

He’s a different man to the guys you normally go for. Maybe that’s where you’ve gone wrong. You’ve let yourself settle for mediocre sex, mediocre relationships and maybe that’s why you’ve never been truly happy, like happy to your very core. You’ve never fully believed that you deserve the world. Never known your worth.

He grips the sides of your head, stilling your movements so his can begin and he doesn’t go easy. His thrusts have you making an even bigger mess, more saliva dripping down from your face to the floor. He’s loving every second of it though. But soon enough, just as quick as he started, he stops. Pulling out and looking at you, content with what he sees.

“God you’re fucking beautiful like this, on your knees for me like a good girl. Get on the bed baby” you do as you’re told, sprawling out on the bed and waiting for him to join which of course he does. As soon as he gets a condom out, taking it from the wrapper and sliding it down his shaft. Size XL. You spy before he tosses the wrapper into the bin.

“You ready?” he asks, resting his tip between your legs and lowering his body so that he can slide his arms underneath your shoulder blades. His face inches from yours.

“Please, i need you now” and with that he slides home, not stopping to let you adjust to every inch as it comes. You can feel your pussy stretching, the way it stings slightly but it also feels incredible. It’s bliss.

“S’tight baby and s’warm. Feel that pussy stretching around my cock”

Your eyes roll back as your head lolls to the side, presenting your neck to him and giving him the opportunity to finish what he started earlier, which of course he does.

And the second is lips are on your skin, his pace picks up and the pain turns to pleasure. You feel him so deep inside of you that you just know if he were to pull out that you’d feel emptier than ever.

“God, yes. Ransom. Fuck” your legs wrap tight around his waist, forcing him in even deeper if that’s possible at all but still you do it. Wanting nothing more than to feel as much of him as physically possible.

So you wrap your arms around him, your fingers tracing shapes on his back, causing him to shiver and growl loudly “fucking take this cock baby, take it like a good girl” he starts, adjusting his pace from fast and rough to slow and hard. Ramming in each time he speaks “such a good girl” thrust “loving every inch of this cock huh?” thrust “god this pussy” thrust “is gonna have me cumming way too quick” thrust.

“I can’t have that now can i?” that’s when he shocks you, flipping you over so that you’re on top “ride me baby, show daddy what you got” the nickname he uses for himself has your walls spasming, catching his attention.

“Oh you like that huh? Such a dirty girl for daddy, aren’t you?”

“Yes daddy” despite never using that in the bedroom before, it feels weirdly satisfying, having him refer to himself as daddy and seeing how he gets when you call him that too, the way his mouth hangs open, the way his cock twitches.

It’s something you’ll never forget.

You start off by collapsing onto his chest, your breasts pushed up against his pecs as you slowly lift your ass up before sinking back down onto him, earning a hiss.

“Yeah just like that, make daddy proud baby” so you do, you go again. And again. And again. Getting quicker each time until you’re a pro at it. You then sit up, continuing to bounce up and down, grinding as he bottoms out, with his initial instructions of course. He guides you through it and before he even tries to help a second time, he takes his hands away, noticing how you’re doing it all by yourself.

Grinding like the whore he’s turned you into. You can’t help the confidence beaming off of you as you go to work, slamming yourself down on his cock eagerly. You need that sweet release now more than ever, as does he.

“That’s it baby, make yourself cum”

The best pout and puppy dog eyes make a return “fuck me. Please daddy” and who is he to say no to you?

“You’re gonna be the death of me i swear” he flips you over again, keeping himself seated deep inside of you as his pace turns animalistic.

“Mhmm, give it to me, i’m gonna cum” you plead, not that he’d ever deny you a mind blowing orgasm in the first place as it’s clear you’ve never had one like the one he’s about to give you.

“Bet he could never fuck like this huh? Make you moan like a fucking porn star for him. Gonna have your legs shaking baby, hold on to me”

So you do.

Your grip tightens around his neck.

With every hit to your g-spot, he nudges you closer until yet again, stars cloud your vision and your toes curl. Your back arches up so that you’re chest to chest and you cum with a shaky and satisfied cry. He doesn’t stop though, plowing into you to chase his own release. Your legs are most definitely shaking.

Your walls continue to clamp down on him, spurring it on.

“God i’m gonna cum”

“Cum for me daddy” is all he needed to hear to go crazy and that’s when he spasms himself. His thick seed filling the condom and his thrusts get slower and harder. Riding both of your highs out.

Your breathing is heavy, your heart beat is out of control but you feel complete.

You’ve never experienced anything like that before.

He pulls out, disposing of the condom and rushing into the en suit for a second before returning with a wash cloth. He uses it to clean you up, taking his time and making sure to be extra careful with you. You try to prop yourself up on your elbow but struggle due to him fully ruining your body.

“Just relax baby, let me take care of everything” he presses a couple of kisses to your thighs and then your stomach, pausing to throw the wash cloth into the hamper before making his way back up to your lips.

He lays down next to you, pulling you into his side and draping an arm around your body so you lay your head down on his chest.

“So” you both say at the same time, causing a laughing fit to erupt.

“That was certainly an experience”

“I told you that i was gonna worship you and i think you can agree i delivered”

“You did more than just deliver Ransom”

“Please do tell me more” he laughs, stroking your hair.

“How on earth are you single?” the question that’s been on your mind since you and him got talking at the bar. He’s acted in a way that not many men do these days, it’s hard to believe no ladies are lining up to be with him.

Plus his dick and head game is A-1.

“I’m single more by choice than anything else”

“How come?” you feel bad for asking but surely if you were over stepping the line then he’d say.

“I mean, my family life hasn’t always been the best. I’ve learnt to not trust anyone that i’m related to and growing up with parents that just chucked money at stuff to solve it. If i was upset then it was always take this money, go shopping. Or if i needed my mother for girl advice it always lead to my dad telling me i should never trust women which is rich seeing as he cheats on my mom all the time”

It’s quite sad actually, a man that seems to have it all together, is clearly broken inside.

“I’m sorry, that’s awful. I’m guessing that’s why you’re single then, why you choose to keep away from dating”

“Yup. I prefer to just fuck with no strings attached. It’s easier, I don’t have to do anything other than make them cum. I’m not filled with pressure to be the perfect boyfriend. I can just relax but sometimes it gets lonely”

“How’d you mean? Sorry if i’m prying” you rest your head on your hands as you look up at him, his finger tracing shapes on your back now.

“It’s fine honestly, don’t sweat it. I guess the best way to explain it is that i can have all this money from my grandfather, all the cars, girls and friends in the world but i can’t trust any of them enough to let them see me when i’m laying in bed at night. The times when i just want someone to hold, someone to hold me, tell them about my day, hear about theirs. Someone to wake up next to and fall asleep next to. But whenever a woman gets even remotely close to me in a way that is too deep. I back off, i give her the cold shoulder and just ghost. I get freaked out because to me, there’s nothing scarier than someone seeing all of me, the good, the bad and the ugly”

It takes you just a second to realise, he’s just bared his soul to you. After saying that he backs off whenever a woman gets too close. After saying that he struggles to trust. That he’s scared of being himself around someone. He’s just been himself around you. And you have no doubt that he feels comfortable enough with you to do that so that’s gotta count for something, surely.

“I get it. It’s hard. Loving someone is easy but allowing them to love you, that’s the scary part. Because ultimately when you let someone in enough to let them love you whole heartedly it opens you up to the chance of heartbreak i mean, look at my life”

You both laugh a little “It’s not even just regular heartbreak, it’s the fear of being cheated on, having my trust shattered. Having someone use me for my family’s money”

“Well, for what it’s worth. I think you need to just bite the bullet, let that guard down. How do you ever expect to find what you want and need if you’re not willing to open yourself up to it. It’s a risk that is worth it sometimes, that eventually, all the heartaches will lead to something greater or someone. Someone that will accept every flaw you have and be there regardless of how messy things can get”

Ransom is just so relaxed right now, he feels at peace, at ease with you. The way you’re listening. Your head rested on his chest, letting him hold you and giving him proper responses, it shows you’re paying attention, you want to be there for him. He’s completely taken back by you. How could anyone want to cheat and leave you, it’ll always remain a mystery to him.

You’re like this ray of light, that came into his life tonight out of the blue. Someone who’s hurting too but somehow you amazing him with the sunshine you provide. You’re everything he’s always wanted in a girlfriend but he’s spent years pushing girls just like you to the side due to fear. Only difference is, he’s able to be himself with you. With them, he could never.

His body lets go as he turns on his side, turning you with him so that he’s cuddling you from behind.

“You’re right. I’ll get there eventually. I just, i need time”

Your silent for a while, taking his words in before you speak.

“Seems like you don’t need any time at all”

That’s when you hear quiet snores from behind you, he’s dozing. And after a couple of minutes, you decide that it’s probably time you see yourself out, you never wanna over stay your welcome and right now with him asleep, you already have.

But before you can even get off the bed, you need to remove his hand from around your frame. Which isn’t going to be easy considering you have to try not to wake him up.

You succeed, finally managing to scoot over to the edge of the bed. But that’s when you hear his tired groans, followed by a hand to your wrist.

“Don’t leave me” his voice is laced with worry

“What?”

“Everyone leaves me” his words break your heart all over again, you’ve been left before and you’re not about to do this to him. Besides, it’s not like you wanted to, you just didn’t think he was the type to want you here all night.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to be here when you woke up”

“Well, you thought wrong. Come back and cuddle, don’t leave like everyone else does”

It doesn’t take much more to convince you to crawl back into his arms. He presses a couple of kisses to your shoulder as you get under the covers with him. Then the kisses move to your cheek and eventually, your lips.

“I’m here to stay then i guess”

“Good”

You feel warm and happy somehow in his arms, like everything has gone away, even if it’s just temporarily.

“Goodnight”

“Goodnight Ransom. sweet dreams” something you’ve always said throughout your whole life. It’s a nice thing to say and it has him smiling into one last kiss before he closes his eyes for the night.

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General Tags: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @chris-butt @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @adriannajackson @dummiesshort @cevans-fics @americasass91 @toni9 @aaliferouss @bradfordmyworld @thereisa8ella @rockyrogers

Just Chris & His Characters Tags: @onetwo3000 @persephonequeenofthedead @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @rynabarnesrogers @princess-evans-addict @stxvercgersslut @chris-evanslover @bval-1 @thejemersoninferno @denisemarieangelina

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imagine-loki · 3 years

Text

Omega Mine

TITLE: Omega Mine

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 1/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Loosely based on: Imagine Loki discovers the Avengers have an omega who has healing powers living with them. He’s an Alpha and he wants her, badly.

RATING: M (eventually )

NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 click here

“Nope, nope, fuck no. Why do all these companies suck?” You grumbled to yourself as you scrolled through job posting after job posting on your laptop. You were sitting on your bed absently eating a slice of pizza in your pajamas while you searched. You were hunting through the job listings looking for a company in search of an Omega.

That wasn’t at all atypical. Businesses that employed a lot of Alphas needed Omegas on staff to help keep the balance and the peace. Betas could only do so much against volatile Alpha tempers.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your current job, but it just wasn’t the right fit. You’d worked at a few different companies since you’d graduated from college. The companies were all glad to have you around, but none of them had felt like the right fit. That was also typical. It took a few tries to find Alphas who really fit and felt like safety and home. It took longer to find such Alphas in an environment where you could use your degree or your magic, or something that made you more than just a typical Omega.

It could take forever or absolutely no time at all to find the Alpha. The one who was your mate and meant to be your love.

You hadn’t had any luck finding your Alpha yet, just as you hadn’t found the right company to work for. You’d temped a couple places as an admin, even though it wasn’t anything to do with your degree. You were now working again as an assistant and getting pretty tired of all omega jobs only being assistants or menial labor. There was nothing of substance. That made sense. Usually, Omegas couldn’t hold higher level positions. Alphas ruled and Omegas were cared for, by nature and by nurture. On the other hand, Omegas were the balance for an Alpha’s temper. They cared for the heart of the people, while the Alphas cared for the physical safety.

Any of the castes could marry any of the others and Omegas finally had some rights in the US, but the world was still highly unfair toward your caste. Omegas couldn’t own a house, for instance, or rent an apartment in your name. You could earn money and have a bank account of your own, thanks to the laws that had passed, but a lot of the world was still stuck in the old ways of thinking Omegas nothing more than pets. Or glorified sex slaves. Thankfully, things were changing slowly, but surely.

You lived in an Omega-house with other unclaimed Omega girls and walked every day to the office nearby where you worked. There was a Beta who acted as house mother as it was determined that Omegas couldn’t be trusted to care for themselves, so you weren’t allowed to live on your own. Despite that you were a college grad with a job.

It was either the Omega-house or still living with your Father. And that wasn’t an option. Not after you’d finally escaped to go to college at one of the universities that had accepted Omega students.

There was a knock on your door. You weren’t expecting anyone, but that didn’t mean one of the other Omega girls didn’t want to come visit, or the Beta coming to check on you. “Coming!” You called and set your piece of pizza back on the plate, wiping your hands quickly as you got to your feet. You padded silently over to the door, your steps light, despite the interruption. You opened the door to see the Beta on the other side. Your new house mother. “Hello, Beta Ann,” you greeted her politely. She was new and stuffy and still old-school enough that she wanted to be addressed by her title every time anyone spoke to her.

She gave you a warm matronly smile. It was a bit condescending. “Hello, dear,” she always spoke down to the Omegas, as if you couldn’t understand what she was saying. “I received your message that you wish to look for a new position?” She made it a question. It was her job to help you find something. Sometimes she could have better connections than the websites that the Omegas could access.

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, ma’am,” you replied politely. She really was stuffy and old schooled, but if she could help you… you’d be polite. “It isn’t that I dislike my position. It’s just… not the right fit,” you explained quickly, hoping she would understand.

She nodded sympathetically and looked over the clipboard she was carrying. “You’ve been in that position six months, I see. Yes, that’s plenty of time to realize it’s not the right fit,” she agreed. She looked up at you again. “I was actually going to speak with you regardless. A position crossed my desk that I thought you would be a good fit for, given your abilities,”

You perked up at that. A position for your abilities? Your skills? Not just because you were an Omega? “Really? What position?” You asked eagerly. You tried not to appear too eager. That would be impolite. It was a tentative balance.

“There is a group who is looking for an Omega. It’s a live-in position. All room and board is covered on top of a generous salary. They are specifically looking for someone with medical background and your healing abilities are very appealing to them,”

Medical background and healing?

And a proper home?

It sounded absolutely perfect.

“I’m definitely interested, ma’am,” you told her brightly.

She nodded her agreement. “Very good, dear. I’ll let them know and set up the interview for you. I’m sure it will just be a formality,”

Most Omega interviews were. The Alphas in charge didn’t need to interview, not really. They just needed to catch your scent or psychic scent and determine if you would fit in with their tempers and soothe their needs.

“Thank you, ma’am,” you told her politely. She gave you another condescending smile before she left you to set things up.

A few days later, you found yourself in front of your mirror adjusting your suit’s jacket for the billionth time before your interview. The suit looked good on you, and professional. Though you still knew that you had that Omega air about you. An Alpha or Beta could identify you on scent, on sight, even without the collar around your neck.

All Omegas were required to wear a collar once they presented as an Omega. Puppies (children) presented their secondary gender, their caste, officially toward the end of puberty, usually around 16 or 17 years old. There were usually signs before that of what a puppy would be when they matured and you’d heard that there was a test that puppies could take now to determine what they would present as.

The collar you wore was the generic collar every Omega wore until they were claimed by an Alpha. It was silver and plain, thin, not heavy at all, but you would never forget it was there, not since the day it had been locked on. Only an Alpha could remove it. And only your Alpha would, when you were claimed and mated, only to put his or her own collar on in its place. It was still a holdover from the old laws. You’d never gotten a good answer as to why. You always got some bullshit reason about knowing who to protect. Omegas were more rare than Alphas or Betas, so you weren’t surprised the law hadn’t changed.

There was nothing you could do about it. And it wasn’t ugly. But it did single you out as an unclaimed Omega. Especially at your age. There was no specific age to find your Alpha, but most Omegas you knew your own age were already claimed.

You knew it made you a target. You could be claimed against your will, mated against you will, if you didn’t already have an Alpha. That didn’t mean you were going to settle.

That was also why the company was sending a car to pick you up for your interview. Beta Ann had said that a Beta security guard from the company to escort you safely to and from the interview.

You made sure you had your phone in your purse as well as your resume before you headed out of the house. You said goodbye to Beta Ann and only left once the Beta security guard, a many named Happy of all things, rang the bell to collect you.

Your eyes widened when you saw the limo that was waiting to take you to the interview. What the hell kind of company was this? The information hadn’t been passed along to you. You didn’t know of Beta Ann knew or not. She didn’t deem it important enough information to tell you if she did know.

Happy opened the limo’s door for you and you thanked him softly and politely as you took the seat inside. He gave you the warm smile everyone gave Omegas. They couldn’t help it. Your presence was soothing to everyone. He shut the door behind you and got in the driver’s seat. Soon you were driving through the city, toward the city center. You watched out the window with interest, curious as to where this company could be. What this company could be.

You didn’t know what you were expecting.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t your limo stopping at the VIP parking in front of the Avengers’ tower. It wasn’t the press that were staked out to catch pictures of the superheroes and anyone who came to visit the tower. It wasn’t Happy parking in that VIP section and coming around to open your door again for you.

The Avengers.

You were interviewing for the Avengers.

You couldn’t believe your luck. This really was the perfect opportunity.

You understood immediately that this was a test.

An Omega who couldn’t handle the press, couldn’t handle the surprise of showing up at the tower, who broke down at any little uncertainty or surprise, wasn’t an Omega that would work out for the team and wouldn’t be what they needed.

Desperately in your soul, you knew that this was what you needed and you vowed to do anything in your power to make sure you got this job.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #Omega mine #chapter 1 #nekoamamori

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babbysquid · 3 years

Text

Not A Whiskey Drinker Pt. 5

Author’s Note: Okay I’m having so much fun writing this and I think this is my favorite chapter so far. I’m still looking for a beta reader/someone to bounce ideas off of btw!

Warnings: some sexual tension, anxiety, more suggestive comments from Whiskey

Word Count: 2,836 (these chapters just keep getting longer oops)

Not A Whiskey Drinker Masterlist

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As you stood in front of your closet you contemplated what to pack. The two of you were going to be away for a week but Whiskey never bothered to tell you what to bring or what the two of you would be doing. You assumed it would be some sort of training but everything you knew about secret agent training was from Bond movies. You decided on some workout clothes, a pair of jeans that were comfortable but you could still move in, random shirt, sports bra, and a thick jacket. Last minute you added a standard work outfit and a cute dress just in case. Your packing was interrupted by your phone ringing.

“Hey Parker.” you said, answering the call and pressing the speaker button so you could continue with your packing.

“What’re you doing this coming Friday? My parents are coming to visit and they miss you!”

“Oh I have to go on a work trip with Whiskey.”

“So you guys have nicknames for each other now huh?”

“It seems to be a rite of passage to have an alcohol related nickname at this company.”

“Is it also a rite of passage to go on a work trip with you boss?”

“Parker it’s not like that. He just needs me to trail him during some normal meetings. It’s the same thing as here but just at the Kentucky branch.” you recited the coverup that Whiskey had told you.

“Ugh I swear to god if you don’t make a move on this man I will.”

“I don’t know how your boyfriend would feel about that.”

“You know I’m joking. Just stay safe hm?” Parker said, without realizing how accurate her words were. You definitely took into account the possibility of coming back to the city with a couple new bruises.

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

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Your anxiety for the rest of the weekend was higher than you wanted considering you had no idea what to expect to happen on the trip. It didn’t help that you hated flying. Hopefully you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself in public. But considering it was Monday morning at 5:30 and you were making your way to Whiskey’s apartment you really didn’t have time to focus on your phobia.

You knew that Whiskey would have to live in a fancy building considering the part of the city he lived in, but stopping in front of one of the nicest brownstones you had ever seen was still a shock. Putting your bag down you pressed the doorbell and waited. Swinging open the door there stood Whiskey.

“Ready darlin’?”

“As ready as I can be I suppose.”

After hailing a cab and starting the drive to the airport the two of you sat in silence. Surprisingly, it didn’t feel awkward. You welcomed the comfortable quiet considering it was still early. Eventually the cab pulled up to the airport and the two of you made your way through security. It wasn’t until you were sitting at your gate that your anxiety started to bubble up again, your leg bouncing. Suddenly a warm hand was place on top of your thigh, stopping your anxious tic.

“Nervous?”

“I have a fear of flying.” you said quietly, not looking at Whiskey.

“Don’t worry darlin’ I’ll be here the whole time. You can hold my hand if you need.” said Whiskey in a calming voice. You were surprised he wasn’t being flirty about it. Hearing this comforted you. Whiskey didn’t remove his hand from your thigh til you had to board the plane.

You sat down in your seat and took a deep breath as the flight attendant starting going through the safety procedures, the plane rumbling as it made its way down the tarmac. Closing your eyes you braced yourself for takeoff. You were pretty much okay during flights minus takeoff, landing, and turbulence. Whiskey noticed your hand firmly gripping the arm rest and reached over to grab it. He gave your hand a quick squeeze. You welcomed the gesture, knowing he was doing it out of kindness.

“I’m right here darlin’. You can squeeze my hand as tight as you need.”

Overall the flight was pretty smooth, only hitting turbulence once or twice. Even though the flight wasn’t as bad as you were expecting, you never let go of Whiskey’s hand.

“You did it.” said Whiskey, smiling at you once the plane landed.

The old lady who shared the trio of seats with you two leaned over.

“You two make an adorable couple.” she said. “Reminds me of my youth.”

You couldn’t help the blush that crept up your neck. You corrected her, but as Whiskey stood up to grab his bag from the overhead container she leaned in close.

“With the way that man looks at you he sure as hell wants more with you than whatever your current relationship is.”

Grabbing your bags the two of you made your way out the airport. Outside stood a man, also in a cowboy hat, that you recognized from the meeting Whiskey had you sit in on.

“Tequila.” he said, stretching out his hand.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.” you said, taking his hand and giving it a shake.

“Oh the pleasure is all mine.” as he gave a wink.

Whiskey gave Tequila a firm pat on the back and put your bags into the back of the car and off you were to Statesman Brewery, Kentucky location. You were staring out the window, you had never been to Kentucky before. Sure it didn’t have as much to look at as New York, but you were still interested nonetheless.

“So Y/N,” said Tequila, looking at you through the rearview mirror. “I heard you’re stuck with this old man.”

“Yeah well this old man still has some moves.”

“Is every agent here a caricature of a cowboy?” you said, meeting Tequila’s gaze in the mirror.

“I have a feeling you’ll fit right in.” Tequila flashed you a bright smile.

The rest of the car ride was filled with Tequila and Whiskey chatting and catching up. You occasionally chimed in to make a snarky comment at Whiskey’s expense, Tequila consistently laughing at your remarks.

“I am not an old man Tequila! I still got it.”

“Well how old are you?” you asked.

Whiskey coughed and mumble some number in the late 30s/early 40s.

“And when did you last get it?” said Tequila.

You laughed loudly at Tequila’s joke. He seemed to have the same penchant for taking the piss at Whiskey. Whiskey looked at you through the rearview mirror, your eyes were shut tight, mouth open with the most beautiful laughter coming from it. Sure he’d heard you laugh before, but never this deeply. He’d suffer through thousands of Tequila’s insults just to hear you laugh like that again.

The car stopped and you got out, looking up at the building in front of you.

“A whiskey bottle? Really?”

“Come on, I’ll show you to where you’ll be staying.” said Tequila, motioning for you to follow him. Grabbing your bag you trailed Tequila to a cellar filled with barrels.

“I hope I’m not staying here.” Tequila just smiled and revealed a secret door. Below the cellar was the most high tech space you had ever seen. Everything was white and silver — it looked like a scene out of a sci-fi movie.

“This is where you’re staying.”

Tequila walked down the halls, smirking at the way you ogled at your surroundings. Making a sharp turn the two of you stopped at a door. Opening the door you were greeted by a simple room that had the same color scheme as the rest of the building. It was sleek and modern and felt like the nicest hotel room you had ever stayed in. Placing your bag on the floor you padded over to the bed and experimentally pushed the mattress with your hands. It felt expensive.

“Like the place?” came the drawl that you recognized as Whiskey’s. You had to admit that Tequila’s accent was attractive, but it was nothing compared to Whiskey’s deep baritone.

“Come on it’s time to meet Champ.”

Swallowing you followed Whiskey and Tequila out of the secret doors and into the main building to the top floor. It felt like deja vu. The three of you reached a set of wooden double doors. Inside was a nice boardroom that reminded you of the one in New York, but nicer, if that was even possible. At the head of the table sat an older man in a brown cowboy hat who you could only assume was Champagne.

“So this is the new recruit eh?” said Champagne, standing and striding over to shake your hand.

“Thank you for considering me Mr. Champagne.” you said, grabbing his hand and giving it a firm shake.

“Oh just call me Champ. Come sit, we have some information to discuss. Whiskey, Tequila, if you could give the two of us some privacy.” he said, waving his hand to dismiss the men.

As the doors closed behind Whiskey and Tequila, the younger man spun around.

“She’s somethin’ else Whiskey.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“If you don’t make a move I will.” replied Tequila, leading against the wall with a glint in his eyes, eyebrows raising. Whiskey’s jaw tightened, his hands making tight fists. “Wish I was training her.”

Whiskey rolled his eyes at the remark and waited outside the boardroom for you to finish with Champ. Fifteen minutes later the door opened to reveal Champ, a wide smile on his face.

“Ah, Whiskey you’re still here, perfect. Come on in.”

Whiskey followed him and sat down in the chair across from you. Taking a seat with a grunt Champ turned to Whiskey.

“I have to admit while I was originally… apprehensive about your suggestion to have her as an agent she surprised me.” you smiled at the compliment. “She’s quite the charmer, a spitfire too.”

“Don’t I know it.” muttered Whiskey.

“While I do like you quite a bit,” Champ said, turning to face you. “I’ll still have to see how you are in action. You start training with Whiskey tomorrow. 6am sharp.”

You swallowed. You were not an early riser and the thought of having to do what was most likely going to be the toughest workout of your life at such an early time created a pit in your stomach. It was in this moment that you realized this was real.

“Come on darlin’. I gotta show off a bit before we see what you’re made of tomorrow.”

You and Whiskey left the boardroom, you gave Champ and small wave and he smiled back.

“I like Champ a lot, reminds me of my grandpa.”

“Champs a good guy. Bit stubborn, but you’re no stranger to that concept.”

“Shut up.” you said, giving Whiskey a little shove.

Whiskey and you returned to the secret entrance and walked through the underground offices. You were met with a room the size of a basketball court that had a huge window so you could see inside from the hallway. Walking inside Whiskey positioned you at one end of the room and made his way to the other end.

“Now I want you to stay right here.”

Opening one of the lockers that resided in the sparring room he grabbed his training lasso. Sauntering back to his original spot his hands tingled and he wiggled his fingers. He always got a surge of excitement when the opportunity to use his lasso and whip arose. Slowly he started to spin the rope, a circle forming. The rope circle rose as it spun and in a flash the rope was around your mid section. With a sharp pull you were dragged towards Whiskey, luckily he caught you before you could fall forward, your hands stuck in the rope. Whiskey smirked.

“Deja vu darlin’.” He pulled the rope over you head and you were freed.

“Wow.”

“I’m quite handy with a rope. Now,” he took off his Stetson, placing it on your head. It was a little big on you and you had to tip it back slightly so it didn’t block your vision. “I want you to go back to your spot and don’t move.” Whiskey’s eyes darkened with the serious tone. You swallowed and nodded your head, unsure of what was about to happen.

Once again his hands started to tingle. As much as he enjoyed his lasso, his whip is where his love truly resided. Cracking his neck he grabbed the hand attached to his hip and quickly released the rope that was positioned snug inside the mechanism.

The whip cracked loudly and your eyes widened. Whiskey smirked at your response, the usual reaction to people seeing him use his weapon for the first time. Raising his eyebrows he cracked the whip once again. You felt a whoosh of air next to your face, the crack sounding loud in your ear and suddenly the hat he had placed on your head was laying on the floor next to you. Your jaw dropped. You weren’t going to tell Whiskey, but there was a warmth that spread to your abdomen. He was hot. Whiskey just smiled and walked over to pick up his hat, placing it back on his head.

“Tomorrow, here, 6am just as Champ said.” the sound of Whiskey’s voice broke your trance. “We’ll do some simple sparring and see how you fare.”

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

You groaned at the sound of your alarm clock stirring you from your sleep. You dreamt of whips and cowboy and the distinct smell of Whiskey and something you couldn’t quite place. Pushing the button to stop the blaring of your phone you glanced down.

5am.

Sighing you pulled on a pair of leggings, your sports bra, and a tight shirt that wouldn’t get in the way of your movement. Making your way to the small cafeteria that was housed near your room you made yourself some breakfast and of course, a cup of tea. At 5:50 you made your way to the sparring room, mentally prepping yourself for whatever Whiskey had in store.

You were greeted by the backside of Whiskey. You were surprised by his appearance. Instead of jeans or a suit he was wearing some shorts and a tight t shirt, cowboy boots replaced by sneakers and hat nowhere to be seen. Whiskey could feel your eyes searing into the back of his head. Spinning around he greeted you with a smile.

“See something you like?”

“Sorry,” you coughed. “I guess I was just expecting the standard get up from you.”

Whiskey just shrugged and before you knew it you were on your back, the wind knocked out of you.

“Whiskey what the fuck.”

“Gotta be prepared darlin’.”

Taking a deep breath you stood back up and rushed the man. The two of you grappled for a bit. Admittedly, Whiskey wasn’t expecting you to stay upright as long as you had, but once again he gained the upper hand and knocked you down. You came face to face with Whiskey, his weight pushing into you. You narrowed your eyes and quickly flipped Whiskey on his back, straddling him and pinning his arms. His eyes widened, a surge of arousal running through his body.

“Got ya.” you said with a proud smile.

The next few hours were spent with more sparring. Whiskey teaching you proper form, how to sweep your opponent’s legs, and some boxing moves. Of course you took a break for lunch and several pauses for water. Around 4pm you were exhausted, a sheen of sweat covering your body. Without thinking you pulled off your shirt to use it as a towel, exposing your sports bra underneath.

“Didn’t know I was gonna get a show.” said Whiskey. You threw your shirt at his face.

“You’ve seen me in less. Shut up.”

Whiskey chuckled, remembering the sight of you wrapped in a towel and he tossed the shirt back to you.

“Well it seems like we’re done for the day. Same time tomorrow, same thing.”

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

The next couple days were spent the same way. You met Whiskey in the sparring room at 6am, grappled for a bit, took a lunch break, did some more practice, and ended around 4. You groaned at the end of today’s practice. Your shoulder feeling sore from a punch Whiskey threw.

“Same thing tomorrow?” you asked, rotating your arm trying to loosen your arm up.

“We’ll meet at 9,” you furrowed your brow, confused by the added three hours. “pm.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“We’re starting a new lesson.”

“At 6pm?” You shook your head. “I don’t follow, why would we spar that late in the day?”

“Not sparring sugar, seduction.” you shivered at the way the word rolled off his tongue.

“What?”

“Fighting isn’t the only way to get information. You’ll meet me at the bar tomorrow and you’ll try to get information out of me using your feminine charm.”

You blinked, shocked by Whiskey’s words.

“See you then. And remember: I’m not Whiskey tomorrow, just another adversary.”

And with that Whiskey left you standing in the middle of the room, mouth wide open.

taglist: @absurdthirst @space-daddy-owns-me @agentwhiskeypussyindulgence @littlemissoblivious @agingerindenial @mack4676 @loveforminato @thats-one-tender-foot @xwingsandohs @purplepascal042 @harami-mami @nova646 @lesbianlena @computeringturtle @cassandras-nest @fourtypercent0ff @demoneyesanddamagedsouls

#NAWD #not a whiskey drinker #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

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americasass81 · 3 years

Text

Make Her Mine - Chapter Four

{Warning: 18+, Dark theme, Non-Con, Violence, Mention of Breeding, Swearing, Smut}

Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason.

A/N: Getting a bit darker here, this is also the first chapter with major smut so please be kind. Not to spoil it, but I’ve always wondered about the various things a certain item could be used for and have put that imagination to use a bit here. Hope you all enjoy it.

Word Count:- 3,117

Waking up with a mild headache, you looked around confused at your current location. Slowly as you checked yourself for injuries, the memory of Tony Stark walking into your hotel room came flooding back and you found your heart beating faster. While wondering what the sick fuck was up to, you at least calmed down a bit when you realized you and your clothes seemed to be intact. Foolishly looking around for your getaway bag, though you didn't expect to find it, you instead moved to the door to find it unlocked.

Poking your head outside and seeing nothing but a hallway with various doors, you quickly closed it and went to check out your surroundings. Survival 101 dictated that you first look for anything to use as a weapon before checking any and all means of escape. Entering through the only other available door, you were greeted by a reasonable bathroom that, while well furnished, held nothing of use but a roll of paper, a bar of soap and a washcloth. The window you noted was actually built into the ceiling with no possible way for you to reach it, so to save time, you abandoned this room in favor of the bedroom.

Quickly and quietly as possible, a thorough search here resulted in the same lack of viable options with a duplicate overhead window providing a glorious view of the clear blue sky you were currently a prisoner from. Taking a moment to think through the alternatives, and suspecting that Tony may have picked this place for a reason, you quickly got out of your head and made your way back to the bedroom door. Seeing a set of double doors at the end of the hall on your right, you assumed this was the master bedroom and so headed to the left. Had you taken the time, the two doors opposite yours would have revealed another bedroom and the main bathroom. As it was, the archway now in front of you opened up into a spacious kitchen and living room, with two doors, one of which you hoped led to freedom.

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

Reaching for one, you stopped cold when you heard a dark chuckle behind you. Turning slowly, you pressed your back to the door when you saw Tony standing before you with a cup of coffee and a sinister smile.

"Good morning, darling. I see you've been exploring." As if by magic, a screen appeared showing your recent scavenger hunt through your rooms. Reaching for the door again while staring at him, Tony moved quicker than you thought possible and caged you between his powerful arms before bringing his lips to your ear. "Both those doors are locked Y/N, this time you're not going anywhere." With that a gloved hand came to rest just above your left breast where you felt a quick, sharp pick. Moving your top aside, you thought you saw movement under the skin before your eyes shot up to meet Tony's.

"Mr. Stark, what did you do?"

"Nanoparticles." he simply replied, stepping back to release you.

"Na-Nanoparticles?"

Taping the housing unit on his chest, you watched as a liquid-like material spread out over his body before becoming his suit of armor. The real horror hit you however, when you felt a mild pulse around the injection site. Placing your hand over the area, your eyes widened when another screen popped up with your employee picture and an unbelievable amount of information.

"Now thanks to my little friends, I not only know everything about you, but I can also track you anywhere. You will never be able to hide from me again." Seeing the realization dawn on your face, Tony flashed you his usual smirk before continuing. "They also tell me nifty little bits about what your body is up to. Which means right about now is when you might want to calm down." he said, concern clouding his features as he looked at the numbers on the screen.

"Calm down? How the fuck do you expect me to calm down? Not only have you kidnapped me, but you've just injected me with god-knows-what type of technology that allows you to track me and . . ." Beginning to have trouble breathing and feeling light-headed, anything else you wanted to say was cut off as you slid down the door.

Tony was back by your side in a split second and picking you up, sat both of you on the couch and held you as your breathing slowly returned to normal. "Feeling better darling? I tried to warn you."

Glaring at him now that you had calmed down, you tried to free yourself from his arms but his grip held firm. Resigning yourself to the fact that you were stuck, you looked at him and voiced another question on your mind. "Have you thought about what you're going to do when Miss Potts finds out what you've done? Not to mention the fact that I have pretty powerful friends."

"Ah Miss Potts? You know I just love the way company gossip has even reached the Accounting Department. Pepper and I have never, nor will ever be an item. Besides, I'd have thought office gossip was beneath you?" he questioned, arching a perfect eyebrow at you.

"Just because I never took any active part in it doesn't make me deaf or dumb. I still heard things." you pointed out while testing the hold he had on you.

"Fair point, my darling. As for your friends however . . . boy, that Sabrina is something else. Actually threatened the Avengers, she did. Still I dealt with her and her husband."

Fear and dread clutched at your heart like nothing you had ever felt before and it felt like Tony had physically stabbed you. Remembering your boxing and long ago self-defense classes, you head-butted him as hard as you could and used his confused state to scramble away. You only made it halfway between the two rooms however, when a sharp pain in your chest caused you to collapse on the floor.

Curled up and hugging yourself as the aftershocks slowly subsided, Tony reached out to soothe you as he knelt by your side. "Now why did you make me do that, darling? I never wanted you to find out what else those nanoparticles could do. Shush now, let me take care of you." Trying to move away from him, you couldn't help the tears from falling as you thought about what he had done to your friends or what he had planned for you.

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

Picking you up eventually, this time he walked back to your room and placed you gently on the bed. Forcing yourself to look at him, you wiped away the tears as you found your voice. "What did you do to my friends?"

"Nothing, I promise. If possible, I can do without a war against the New York Mob. I don't know how much you know about your friend, but he can be quite ruthless. No, I simply created a false trail that has you currently being treated at a facility in Denmark."

"What's so special about Denmark? Surely you could have picked somewhere in the States?"

"I could have," he agreed, "but I figured there's less chance of them getting on a plane to visit you in Denmark."

"And the nanoparticles? What happened out there and what else can they do?"

"Aw Darling, I'd rather not answer that." he said, reaching out to move a stray strand of hair while you flinched back from him. Sighing deeply, his hand fell by his side as he gave in. "What happened in the other room was a minor pulse emitted by the nanoparticles, it can go a lot higher. But I'd rather that not happen." he quickly added, as you scrambled further away from him. "Still they also have the ability to repair a certain amount of tissue damage, so that's a plus."

"So what you're saying is you can pretty much control me now because of those nanoparticles. What do you have planned for me?" you demanded, fearing the answer but needing to know all the same.

Looking away from you, Tony seemed to think long and hard before rising from the bed and answering. "How about we park this conversation for now. You must be hungry."

"Fuck you Stark, I'm not hungry. Tell me what your sick mind has dreamed up."

"Y/N, we had this conversation back in my office." his tone indicating his patience was limited. "While I'd rather make things pleasant, I'm not above putting manners on you if I have to. Now, shall we?" he asked, holding out his hand to you.

Leaping off the bed however, you failed to make it to the door before Tony tackled you and held you down. Securing your hands above your head with more nanoparticles, he flipped you over before ripping your clothes from you. Then an unparalleled fear gripped you as he spread your legs before kneeling between them. Watching him undo his pants, you tried your best to get away from him but to no avail. Removing his cock, you stared in horror as he spit on his hand before running it up and down his length. Redoubling your efforts, all the fight died in you when he held your hips, lined himself up with your entrance and thrust into your dry pussy.

Releasing a scream that rose from the very depths of your soul, Tony was too busy using you to care, while you couldn't figure out how you didn't pass out already. "That's it darling, let it all out and scream for me. I didn't want our first time to be like this, but maybe this will teach you to be a bit more polite." he taunted, as he continued to plough into you in spite of your obvious distress.

"Tony please . . . fuck stop. It hurts so much." you cried as he pounded into you harder than you thought possible. Increasing his speed and pushing your knees forward so his hard shaft could reach deeper, you felt the coil tighten in your stomach, but before you could reach your climax Tony groaned above you as you felt him paint your walls with his seed.

Pulling out, he picked you up and placed your naked body on the bed before the nanoparticles secured your wrists to the headboard. Kissing you tenderly, he walked to the door before your cries forced him to turn around.

"Mr. Stark. Tony, you can't leave me like this. I'll do anything. You don't even need to release me, just make me come."

"No Y/N, this is what you get. I tried to be reasonable, but your attitude just won't change. So until you prove grateful for all I've given you the last three years, you can lie here and take what I give you." With that, he exited your room, leaving you naked, unsatisfied and completely at his mercy.

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

Looking at the cameras installed throughout the property, he watched you trash about until you wore yourself out. While he hated himself for what he did, he couldn't reconcile the meek you that kept turning down his attention with the ungrateful brat before him. Even as you screamed and cried his name, you still refused to beg or apologize. He had to wonder if perhaps this situation just brought out the worst in you.

Watching you eventually drift towards an exhausted sleep, Tony was pissed to discover a missed voicemail on your phone from your friend Sabrina. It was bad enough that she couldn't give him time to convince you to be his, but upon playing the message, he discovered what she really thought about him. There and then, after phoning in a quick update on your location and condition to Mr. Stan, he decided he had to find a permanent way to keep your mob friends from you, lest they try to turn you against him. However a more important matter threatened to derail his whole plans when he discovered an email from your boss Melinda, informing him that you hadn't reported into work since Wednesday. Thankfully however, being who he was made this an easy problem to fix, though it did worry him as to whether he may have overlooked some other minor detail which might later come back to threaten the life he planned to build.

Setting aside your phone and watching you, he figured he should take his own advice and try to break you quickly so the two of you could become the couple he imagined. Making himself a quick meal, he then proceeded to deal with some urgent work stuff before checking back in with you. Seeing you finally stir, he decided to bite the bullet and see if your attitude had improved. Rising and heading to the fridge for a health smoothie which he hoped you'd drink, he headed off to your room to see if pleasure or pain was the order of the day.

Placing the glass on the bedside table, he released your hands from the bed and drew you onto his lap before bringing the glass up to your lips. "Y/N, darling, I need you to drink this. Can you do that?" Shaking your head, while unknowingly snuggling deeper into his warm body, your eyes widened in shock when you finally opened them to take in the scene before you.

"T-Tony, what the fuck? Let me go." you croaked out, trying futilely to pull away from him. He didn't let you go however, and before you could steel yourself, the nanoparticles emit the same pulse that floored you in the kitchen. This time however Tony's arm wraps around you as you hold on to steady yourself.

"Darling I'm sorry, but the sooner you learn the sooner I can actually disable that feature. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Glaring at him while nodding your head, your eyes quickly fell to the glass now held in his other hand. "Is my girl finally ready for a drink?" he asked as he followed your gaze.

"Yes." you rasped and he brought the glass to your lips as you opened your mouth to accept the liquid. Drinking a bit too quickly, he had to remind you to take it easy so you didn't choke. When you had drank it all, he lay you back on the bed before returning the glass to the table. Then in a move that had you terrified, he took off his shoes before joining you on the bed and moving between your legs.

Scrambling backwards towards the head of the bed, he quickly and easily pulled you down, before placing his hands on your hips to keep you in place. "Y/N, I just need to check there's no lasting damage done, okay? Can you let me do that."

"No, don't fucking touch me. You can't do what you've done and then act all concerned. You're a monster, plain and simple." you screamed while thrashing as best you could against his hold.

"Fine you see a monster, so be it." With that he tapped his housing unit and you watched in horror as countless nanoparticles made their way down his arm, along the sheets and settled in to secure your arms and legs to the bed. Spread wide open for him, fear filled your eyes when Tony held up his palm as a penis shaped object took form. Moving forward towards your pussy, you found your voice and finally begged.

"Tony please, whatever you're planning, don't do it. I'll behave, I promise. Just please don't put that thing in me. I thought you said those things already in me could tell you what was going on inside me "

"They do darling, but this is simply a much quicker way to check there's no damage. I promise I'll be gentle, just don't move." Then moving his hand, he lined the object up with your entrance and gently pushed it in. Checking data on a screen, but hearing you wince from how tender you still were from not being wet enough, he slowed his movement slightly before looking up at you. "Breathe darling, I know it hurts but you're doing so well. It will be over shortly."

Pushing in the final few inches, he took a few minutes to lean forward and kiss you gently before going back to the screen to see what was going on. Seemingly happy with what he saw, he looked back to you with a grin that sent fear shooting down your spine, while somehow at the same time sending heat towards your core.

Pulling his palm away from you so only a small part of the object remained, he slid it back in just as gently as before. Continuing to thrust it in and out, it didn't take long for you to start moaning beneath him. While trying to move still proved impossible, the friction he created was doing amazing things to your pussy and this only moved up another notch when he again leaned forward and wrapped his lips around your left nipple. Sucking and nibbling until your nipple was erect, he bit down gently before furnishing your right nipple with the same treatment. Getting closer and closer to your peak as his hand began moving faster, the coil in your stomach snapped and you came when Tony moved his other hand down to pinch your clit.

Reducing the thickness of the makeshift cock to make its exit easier, he couldn't hide the smirk on his face as you sighed contentedly while trying to control your breathing. "Well Darling, it's safe to say there's no permanent damage done. Now, what do you say we see about putting a mini me in you?" With that, he quickly removed his clothes, returned between your spread legs and thrust in to the hilt before you even registered what he had said. Having just come, he had no trouble this time sliding in and out of your slick pussy and it wasn't long before he had you reaching for the edge once again. With just a few more thrusts and some well timed flicks to your clit both you and Tony cried out as you came around him while his cum shot out, drowning your cervix. Collapsing on top of you, he didn't stay there long before he pulled out and drew you back against his chest after the nanoparticles released your aching limbs. Placing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder it didn't take long for both your breathing to return to normal and you fell asleep in each other's arms.

Tagging:- @nsfwsebbie , @hoseokchild , @ironlady1993 , @floatingdaisy7 , @taintedgenre , @buttercandy16 , sorry if I missed anyone.

#dark!tony stark x reader

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fuchsiagrasshopper · 4 years

Text

Contending the Flame IV

Author’s Note: Hope everyone had a safe and fun Halloween! Not much else to say here as we start to delve deeper into Ivar and the Nuns new relationship and the two different worlds they come from. Thanks as always for being so awesome!

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 2217

Warnings: Language, Master/Servant dynamic

His brothers had kept a close eye on Ivar since acquiring his new thrall. He still played at the leader of their army, but he had refrained from shutting them out of power entirely. Any chance they had at lending a commanding voice they took. Hvitserk's strategy of giving their little brother a distraction was paying off.

The changes in Ivar's behavior were minuscule. Only Ubbe and Hvitserk took notice. It was the same when they were children when someone would give a new gift to Ivar. It would be a stretch to say he was happy, but his vengeance had quelled. For the moment it was enough, and they could focus on securing lands for their people while Ivar was preoccupied.

It was strange for a thrall not to be seen waiting over their master's every whim, but it seemed Ivar wouldn't permit you to leave his quarters. The other slaves they had acquired tended to him during meals, and when he walked the streets with his guards, you were always absent. Ubbe walked alongside Hvitserk contemplating this.

"What do you think he has her do for him?" Ubbe wondered aloud.

Hvitserk's brows puckered in thought. "Don't know. I can't imagine they have much to talk about, and I know the one thing they aren't doing."

"What do you mean?"

"C'mon, think about it," Hvitserk jested with a smirk. "I suppose that must make him a good fit for her. She'll remain a virgin after all."

Ubbe latched onto Hvitserk's arm, pulling him to a stop as he gave him a harsh look. "Those are dangerous words, brother. Remember Sigurd. I don't want to see another brother dead because of Ivar's fragile grasp of his anger. He has poor sensibilities when it comes to that matter. It's unfair, but it's not his fault."

Hvitserk shook off Ubbe's grasp and rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. "Right, that was stupid. I do pity him, though I don't think he'd want it. Who knows how he'll be when we start having families of our own."

Ubbe grunted. "He'll probably resent us, more than he does already. I think I understand why he keeps her away from everyone. Besides our mother, no one has ever taken to Ivar's company outside of obligation or familial bond. He's lonely."

"And it's not as if she can refuse," said Hvitserk. "But she's a Christian. That's got to account for some strife between them."

They continued on their way towards the center of the city. Food was beginning to run scarce, and it seemed the Saxons were holding steadfast on starving them out. While Ivar was willing to take their army to its limits to play Aethelwulf's game, Ubbe and Hvitserk were devising their own plan to negotiate land. They just needed a little more time. Many things rested in the hands of the nun, as unaware as you were.

"I just hope he hasn't harmed her," Ubbe said while they passed through the market.

Hvitserk looked grim, a heaviness settling on him that had replaced his usual cheer. "Ivar did always break toys. We have to hope that Christian isn't as weak as she looks."

ooOOoo

You were growing accustomed to your new station. As a woman, it was your lot in life to suffer, and you took your new situation as a test from God. The heathen, Ivar, he had made no bid to harm you. That wasn't to say he was good company to keep. He had taken to trying to instruct you in a handful of words and phrases of his language. Some of the words were difficult to form with your accent, and when you mispronounced things, he would grow irritated and throw things at you. Uttering dark curses in his tongue, you were certain he had insulted you as well, but it was better than a flogging.

At night you continued to pray, your back to your master, and the words spoken only in your head. You were sure they reached God, even without a rosary in your grasp or the piety to kneel. In your heart, you struggled to keep hope alive. If this test was to be your final judgment from God, its purpose remained clouded to you.

It was late when Ivar returned, and you had remained awake for his arrival. You now slept when he did, short and inconsistent hours of the night, only to be woken before the dawn. He did not rest well. Be it from his duties or pain you could not say, but he never faltered from exhaustion. This pattern must have been his usual routine, life at war.

Ivar's eyes sought you out the moment he came through the door, and you returned the stare. He had only just started walking in his new contraptions, a set of iron braces that he had created from pride. His determination to walk was admirable. You had never witnessed such a fighting spirit before, and you were certain it was a blessing from God.

"Something you wish to say?" Ivar interrupted your thought, a scowl on his face from your lingering gaze on his legs.

"It is a good thing," You said while rising from your corner of the floor. "I believe God has blessed you."

Ivar snorted, blue eyes rolling at your absurdity to insinuate such a thing. He took a slow seat on his pallet of furs and started to remove the braces. "Really, and why would that be?"

"You are not the first cripple I have met, but you are the most assiduous."

You could see him test out the word for himself, a lack of understanding passing over his face. "I'm not sure what that means, but I like how it sounds."

"You have an unrelenting heart. Strong-willed and resolute in your goals. I find you impressive."

He halted what he was doing, and took a long, considering look at you. "I've been this way for as long as I can remember. It is the way if I am to be seen as a true Viking to my people."

"So there are others like you?" You asked as you approached him with careful steps.

"There are not many cripples among my people, no. A child born with a deformity such as mine is left to die. I would have been if not for my mother. She was softhearted, and couldn't bear my loss."

You didn't want to have any strong sort of feelings towards your captor, but to learn that he had been left to die as a helpless babe engulfed you in sorrow. "It isn't wrong for a mother to feel pity for her child," You murmured, showing how distraught you were by such a story. "You don't sound grateful for her mercy."

Ivar's face hardened at your sentiment. "Mercy is for Christians. I would have done the same as my father. I loved my mother, but there are days I resent her for her choice. Her gifts failed to foretell the agony I would endure at the hands of compassion."

"What gifts?"

"She was a Vülva, a woman seeress of our people who has visions of the future."

You frowned at such a concept. "That sounds like sorcery to me."

"I forgot your people fear magic and witchcraft," Ivar said in a teasing tone. "My mother would have hated you. She was too steeped in the beliefs of our own people to have care about your sensitive notions of God. My father would have liked you though."

You blushed at the idea of such a great man holding you in favor. Though you didn't hail from Wessex you had heard the stories of the Viking King who fought for Mercia and befriended King Ecbert. "King Ragnar? Why do you think that?"

"He was often amused and curious about your God. Maybe you would have reminded him of Æthelstan, his Christian monk." Ivar resumed the task of taking off his braces, wincing in pain whenever a particular part pinched or pulled at his legs. "Here, come help me with this."

Startled by such a request, you moved with haste and uncertainty. Ivar showed you which parts to unclasp, and you would mimic his actions with a gentler touch, stopping entirely when he would let out any sound of discomfort. You were certainly slower at the task than if he completed it himself, but he seemed to enjoy watching you work over him, and you were grateful for the distraction.

"What about your family? Where are your mother and father?" Ivar asked while leaning back on the strength of his arms.

"They're both dead," You said, pausing only a moment to collect yourself before continuing on his braces. "I was born in Rendlesham, in East Angles. My mother was a whore, and I never knew who my father was as a result of that. When she died, I was orphaned to the streets until the church took me in. Being of such low birth standing, I turned to the church as my ray of hope."

You could feel Ivar frowning at you, but you did not waver. "Did you not want to be something more than a nun?"

You breathed a laugh. "Such as what? Saxon women are not allowed to be warriors."

"Yes, but isn't there a way you could have improved your situation?"

"No," You said bluntly. "Blood is everything. Those who are of Royal standing will always be in power, and through marriage, their line continues. The best I could have hoped for was a marriage to a farmer, and he would have to have been a poor one. I would have raised his children, and likely died young from childbirth."

"I see now why you're a nun," said Ivar. When you chanced a look up at him, he appeared troubled by your story. "Those Saxons in power are greedy. They keep all for themselves and give nothing back. What chance is there of an honorable death for those forced to live a life of poverty?"

"If you die without sin, you go to Heaven. We have no need for honor."

"A life without sin," Ivar hummed. "As if any man is capable of such purity."

"A Priest is," You argued back. "It takes a nobleman to obtain such a pious position in the church."

"Is it noble for these men to keep silver and gold in their churches while children run through the streets, no better than dogs?" Ivar had sat forward, his eyes emboldened with the wrath of a demon. "I have seen your noblemen of the cloth, and they died screaming the same as any sinning heathen of mine."

You lost your balance, falling flat on your bottom as you gazed up at Ivar in terror. "What did you do to them?"

"The things I've done to your priests," Ivar paused, a calm washing over him. "It would make Loki grin."

The suffering of your people seemed to fall down on you like a star collapsing from the night sky. When he spoke, you could almost forget that Ivar was your enemy, but he had now made it clearer than ever where the line in the sand was drawn. You were just a slave, a Christian slave, and how soon would it be before he tired of you? You did not wish the same fate to befall you as it had for the priests, whatever it had been.

"I have not dismissed you," Ivar tutted when you began to walk away to your corner, unaware yourself that you had begun to do so. You craved distance from him, even if it was only a few feet away.

At first, he tried to manage his composure, calling you back with his voice deliberately even. When it became clear that no amount of coaxing on his part would work, he started yelling in his language. That word came up again, 'Ólaug'. It had been peppered into a number of your one-sided conversations. If he had tried to brand you with a new name, you would refuse. He would not take who you were.

Your fight ended with him throwing one of his crutches at you. It landed just before you, and you were able to contain your flinch. Ivar scoffed at your non-reaction and threw himself back onto the furs. He had finished disrobing and gave you the courtesy of his back, which appeared to be covered in a new etched design each time you saw him. Matched against your own untainted skin, it was a reminder of how different the worlds you came from were.

When you were sure Ivar had fallen asleep, you moved to get under your own thin pile of wool blankets. They were scratchy and held none of the warmth of the furs, but it was not the worst sleeping conditions you had ever weathered. That night you prayed for the lost Priests, and for God to take away your suffering. You didn't see a way out of your situation, but if God acted through you, you were certain to find your answer. Content to keep faith in your heart, Sister Mary Catharine slept, ignorant to the matter that Ivar was awake and watching you.

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#ivar x reader #ivar x you #ivar the boneless #vikings #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar ragnarsson #history vikings #vikings ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson imagine #ivar the king #ivar imagine #vikings imagine

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wouldduskwood · 3 years

Text

Descendants of Despair Part 43

The next couple of days passed like a blur as we put our plan into action. Jake had managed to plant an email into a couple of accounts that advertised a fake company specialising in security, purposefully making the email look read and old. The idea was that if they typed in security, they would find it and think it was well known. We had no guarantee of that working. He had also created company details and provided many fake reviews. He had spent the better part of the last day falsifying some details to give me an identity that would persuade the prison to allow me access. As time ticked on, I began to feel anxious. I had practised the routes religiously in my head and had kept up with physical pursuits to ensure my flexibility, strength and speed were at the level I needed them to be.

Somehow, Jake had talked me into helping to create traps that we could deploy on the rooftops to give me more of an advantage over potential pursuers. As we pieced together these traps, we waited for night to fall so we would have a better shot at deploying them without being seen. It would also be our first chance at testing whether our equipment could mess with their camera system. Once this was completed, there was a sense of looming finality. We sat, staring intently at the window, waiting for darkness. The tension was high. We both knew that this was a very minor step in our chance for freedom. If this failed, the chances of success for anything else would be dampened.

Finally, the fading light signaled we were safe to leave our confines and drive the half hour trip to the prison. As we reached the door to our home, Jake turned and pressed me against the wall, his hands in balled fists on either side. His dark eyes bore intensely into mine for a moment before he smashed his lips against mine. His tongue pressed urgently against my lips until he gained access to my tongue. Pressing his body closer to mine, his breathing became shallow as he forced himself to back away. “Sorry,” he mumbled, suddenly trying to avoid my gaze. Gently lifting his chin, I saw that his eyes were damp with tears. “We can do this,” I whispered. “You made me strong.” Jake lifted a hand to caress my hair then fixed my hood in place. “I hope you’re right,” he replied as he pulled his own hood up and led the way to the car.

Jake’s form remained rigid as we drove. This was the last step in our plan. If it went well, we would be putting it into action tomorrow. There was a lot weighing on it. Staring out the window, I tried to keep my mind on the task at hand. Finally, I recognised the lights of the city. The car began to slow as we reached the outskirts of the prison. “Right, if this works, I will give you around 15 minutes to get up there and get the traps in place,” Jake stated, suddenly business-like. I found myself hesitantly extending my hand towards his, but before I could touch him he moved out of my reach. “Sorry, for me to let you do this, I need to remain professional. All business,” he apologised coldly, turning his back to me as he worked on his laptop.

“Right, the cameras are no longer functioning. Go,” Jake stated, without looking at me. I left the car with the equipment I needed in my backpack. Scaling to the roof was no problem. I set the first trap, as we had planned, then ran my way to the next building. As I worked, I supplemented my knowledge with the new information I was gaining. Placing the last of the traps, I quickly scanned my surroundings and spotted an easy enough fire escape to jump onto. Making my escape, I ran back to the car, ensuring my hood was still in place.

Opening the door, I jumped into the passenger seat. Jake drove quickly a few blocks away then pushed a couple of buttons on his laptop, freeing the cameras once more. Once this was accomplished, he shut his laptop and chucked it on the backseat then drove his way to the outskirts of town. I stared out the window, not really seeing anything. I was startled out of my reverie when the car slowed, thinking we were already at home. As my eyes began to focus once more, I could see that we were in a secluded area completely off the beaten track. Surprised, I turned to face Jake and saw his eyes, dark with need, staring intently into mine.

18+ Part 4 (Smut, Can Skip)

Part 44

#duskwood jake x #duskwood jakexplayer #duskwood jake x player #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood fanfic #duskwood jakexmc fanfic #duskwood #fanfiction #fanfic #duskwood jake #jake x mc #hackerman

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prettyyoungandbored · 4 years

Text

Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Three

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC

Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)

Warning: Language, Minor Panic Attack

Taglist: @dragonballluver

Previous Chapter

“We have an issue.”

Jack closed the door behind him. Jack was a college friend of Demetria and Harvey who co-ran a moving company with his brother, Max, in Gotham. He’d been there to help Demetria move in to the one bedroom so it was a no-brainer to ask him to help her move.

Demetria looked up she loaded the last box ontop of the dolly

“What broke?” She asked, the knot in her stomach tightening.

He waved his hand reassuringly “Nothing broke. Everything is secured in the truck.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“There’s some paparazzi outside.”

She rolled her eyes and groaned. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“It’s not a whole lot. Just like two, maybe three.”

“No it’s definitely three,” Max confirmed as he glanced from out the window.

Demetria threw her hands up as she walked over to the window, Jack trailing right behind her. The three of them watched as across the street, three men stood around with cameras in their hands.

She could think a few ways they could’ve gotten her address. One was from the Gotham Gossip, the other was someone at GCN tipped off the Gotham Times who also tipped off some other publication.

“Should I call the cops?” Demetria asked.

“Yeah, that’s gonna go over real well,” Max snorted.

“Well, what am I supposed to do?”

“Just keep going and ignore them, I guess,” Jack shrugged. “Best you can do.”

She closed her eyes. “I thought I had more time before I had to deal with this.”

“Can you call Bruce?” Jack asked.

She shook her head. “He’s at work.” She stepped back. “We’ve got these boxes left and then it’s over.”

She began rolling the dolly when Max stopped her. “Let us do that.”

“And have them catch me empty handed? Not a chance.”

“Fair enough.”

She quickly went into her purse, grabbing her keys and iPod with earphones wrapped around it. She shoved the iPod in her back pocket. “Here’s the plan. Jack, give the keys to Mrs. O’Neill. She’s in the room 301. Tell her I say ‘thanks for everything.’ Max, take one last look around and make sure nothing is getting left behind, alright? I’ll meet you two in the truck.”

Both men nodded their heads. She grabbed her purse and swung it over her shoulder, She rolled the dolly out into the hallway and into the elevator.

Upon getting inside, she let out a deep sigh and rubbed her temple. She could feel her throat closing in and chest tightening, a sign she needed to do her breathing exercises. She inhaled slowly, holding it in for seven seconds before breathing out.

She knew she would eventually have to deal with it when Bruce wouldn’t be around, but as she’d said, she thought she had time. Either way, she’d had to deal with it and it looked like today was the day to begin doing so.

She put her earbuds in as Fleetwood Mac’s “The Chains” filled her ears.

The doors opened and she rolled the dolly out into the lobby, watching the men across the street watch her moves. She inhaled and exhaled slowly.

“Here goes nothing,” she mumbled.

She opened the door with one hand and pushed the the dolly with the other. The men hurried across street, their cameras flashing her as they stood on the street.

She kept her eyes on the truck and even with the pounding of Mick Fleetwood’s drums and Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nick’s powerful vocals, she could still hear the men yelling at her.

“Demetria, where’s Bruce?”

“Demetria are you moving in with Bruce?”

“When’s the wedding?”

“Give us a smile!”

“Demetria is it true you dated Harvey Dent prior to being with Bruce?”

She pulled her lips back, mentally reminding herself that responding to them would only make things worse.

She rolled the dolly into the back of the truck, setting her purse down before unloading the boxes. She knew they were there, watching her unloading, and photographing her from behind. While her throat really started closing in, she continued to breathe. She then put the empty dolly up against a box before grabbing her purse and going down the ramp. She kept her head down as she made her way into the driver’s area of the truck.

Closing the door, she could still see them photographing her from in front of the car. She kept her eyes down as she pulled out her phone and began texting Bruce.

Heading to the mansion in a bit. There’s paparazzi outside my place but everything is fine.

She leaned her head back, continuing her breathing exercises when her phone buzzed. She looked down to find it a text from Bruce.

Are you alright? Are you safe?

I’m fine. I’ll see you tonight. Love you.

Jack and Max got into the driver’s area with Jack at the wheel and Max right beside Demetria so she was in the middle.

“Vans all closed up and everything is good,” Jack said. “Let’s move out.”

The paparazzi moved off to the side as the van pulled forward before driving off.

“How much do either of you want to bet that I’m going to be criticized for not wearing a seatbelt?” Demetria brought up.

____________________________________________________________

As they loaded boxes into the storage area of Wayne Manor, Demetria kept looking over to see the mansion.

It was still being fixed, with certain areas built and ready, while others were covered in tarp.

Bruce had shown her photos of what it looked like prior to the fire. For a mansion, it wasn’t overly designed, but rather cozy and the kind of place a kid would be lucky to call home. She’d hope that when it would finally be rebuilt that it would look exactly how it did. Knowing Bruce’s attachment to the house, it probably would.

“So this is where you’ll be?” Max asked.

“Yep,” she responded popping the “p”. “We’re moving in the second it’s ready.”

“I remember when this place burned down,” Jack said. “Real shame. But I heard Wayne’s all cozy and whatnot in his penthouse.”

Demetria shrugged. “It’s just an apartment.”

“Yeah with a helicopter pad,” Max snorted.

Bruce’s wealth was a big topic of discussion that Demetria’s mother and older brother would bring up with her and it made her sick to her stomach. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Demetria, can I ask you something?” Jack brought up, as he set down a box. “Are you...are you two planning on having a prenup?” She cocked her head back. “Excuse me?”

Jack and Max exchanged looks. “Look, I know he’s your fiancé,” Jack began, “but I mean, the guy is known for having a new girlfriend each month.”

“Hell, sometimes it’s weekly thing,” Max chimed in.

Demetria folded her arms across her chest, anger boiling up inside. “What’s your point?”

Jack sighed. “Look, don’t get defensive...”

“Jack, what is your point?”

He eyed Max. “I just wanna make sure you’re taken care of incase he hurts you or...you know...”

“I’m fine,” she retorted. “Our relationship is fine. I’m aware of who he’s been with, but it’s not like that. If everyone stopped believing in this idea they conjured up about him based on the bullshit gossip magazines write about him, they’d see he’s actually kind and smart and thoughtful. Yea, he dated and slept around, but like you guys haven’t?”

She turned to Max. “I couldn’t even keep up with your count after sophomore year.”

She turned to Jack. “You know the lengths he went to to keep our relationship a secret so that not only I could keep my job, but that he would protect me from get hounded by the fucking press every night? If he wanted to leave, he could’ve. I gave him every chance to, but he refused. Thank you for you concern, but we’re gonna be just fine.”

She walked away leaving Jack and Max alone.

Her phone vibrated as she made her way back to the van. She pulled it out to find a text message from Bruce.

I love you too. More than anything. I can’t wait til’ you’re all mine.

______________________________________________________________

Hours later, Demetria entered the Wayne Enterprises building. She made her way to the front desk and by the time she opened her mouth to speak, the woman at the desk beat her to the punch.

“He’s on the 24th floor. Top of the building. ”

She gave the woman a nod. “Thanks.”

She made her way into the elevator and pressed the button. She was thankful to have the elevator to herself when a man with balding, blonde hair rushed in. She gave him a friendly smile and watched as she reached over and pressed the button with ‘18′ on it.

She could feel his eyes on her and she adjusted her purse on her shoulder, keeping her eyes in front of her.

“You’re Bruce Wayne’s fiancé, right?” he spoke up.

She looked over and gave him a small, but friendly smile. “Yeah, I am.”

“Coleman Reese. I’m the mergers and acquisitions law accountant.” “Nice to meet you.”

She looked away but could still feel his eyes on her. She began playing with the engagement ring, hoping he’d take a hint.

“Wayne really shelled out big ones for the ring, huh?” he spoke up.

She laughed nervously, shrugging. “I wouldn’t know.”

She pulled back her lips, wondering why his eyes wouldn’t leave hers. At this point she couldn’t tell if he was just weird, nosy, attempting to make a move, or just trying to make conversation. Either way, she hoped it would end soon.

“You worked for Gotham City News, right?” he asked.

Jesus Christ, dude, she thought to herself.

“Uh, yea, I did.”

“Just out of curiosity, did any one there ever do some digging on the identity of the Batman?”

She furrowed her eyebrows, holding her in her urge to ask him why the fuck he was asking her this. “I...I’m not entirely sure. I was just a junior talent booker there. I wasn’t involved with the stories reporters worked on.”

The elevators doors then opened, her heart leaping with excitement. Coleman gave her a disappointed, but kind nod as he left. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” she responded.

The second the doors closed, she mumbled, “The fuck was that?”

Reaching the 24th floor, Demetria got off the elevator and wandered around looking for Bruce’s office when she heard someone say, “Miss Gallagher, I presume?”

She turned around to see a gentleman with grey hair and a warm smile approach her. She recognized him as Lucius Fox, Wayne Enterprises’ CEO.

“Lucius, hi! I’ve heard so much about you,” Demetria remarked, holding out her hand.

He shook it. “And I you, Miss Gallagher. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Bruce talks a lot about you”

“Well hopefully he only tells you good things. Speaking of which, where’s his office?”

Lucius laughed. “I’ll show you.”

The two walked side by side, as Demetria’s eyes fell to the glass windows. “How do you guys get anything done with a view like this?”

“We do our best.”

He directed her to an office with glass windows all around, her smile widening at the sight of Bruce staring at something on his desk.

Bruce’s face lit up, closing the binder on his desk.“Sweetheart, what’re you doing here?”

She wrapped her arms around Bruce’s waist. “I just wanted to drop by and say ‘Hi’, and thanks to Lucius I was able to find you.”

Bruce smiled at Lucius. “I hope she didn’t give you much trouble.”

Lucius grinned. “Not at all.” He eyed the binder. “Is that the full report you wanted me to look at?”

“Yeah, I made some adjustments you’re gonna want to look over.”

“Will do. Demetria, a pleasure.”

“Wonderful to meet you as well, Lucius.”

Her eyes scanned Bruce’s office, admiring the mahogany wood that shine at the touch of the sun. It was organized down to a tee, not a single paper sticking out from the stack. The decor was kept to a minimum, not a single photo album anywhere.

“I’m glad you stopped by,” Bruce said. “I have a present for you.”

Demetria turned to him. “Is that so?”

“Consider it a moving in gift.”

“I told you I didn’t need you to-.” She cut herself off when he handed her a manila folder filled with paper. She pulled her lips back, holding back laugher. “A folder and some documents. How romantic.”

“Open it.”

She opened the folder to find documents pertaining to Gotham's Saint Swithin's Orphanage, including contact information, funding break downs, etc. The way her eyes crinkled made Bruce’s heart melt.

“Thank you,” she said, giving him a quick chaste kiss. “This is perfect. I can start making some calls tonight, get a meeting set up-.”

“Yeah, you might want to wait a couple days.”

Demetria looked up. “Why’s that?”

Bruce smiled. “What are your thoughts on setting sail for a couple days?”

#bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne imagine #batman fanfic #batman #bruce wayne x reader #christian bale #christian bale x reader #bruce waye #the dark knight fanfiction #the dark knight #the joker #tdk trilogy #tdk #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne smut #batman x reader

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wickedmilo · 3 years

Photo

BASEBALL AND SPIDER MONKEYS | MILO & ORION PART 1

PLACE: Orion’s house TIMING: 11:12 PM SUMMARY: Orion hosts a vampire movie night to help Milo feel better about the changes in his life WRITING PARTNER: @3starsquinn CONTENT WARNINGS: Some brief NSFW humour

Milo wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Rio wasn’t the type to lie, and had been pretty clear about living in a large property alone. Maybe he was developing trust issues, because standing in the kitchen now, staring out at the expanse of space, he felt guilty for ever doubting his friend. It was a large property, a nice one too. He was glad he had somewhere decent to stay. If anybody deserved that, it was Orion. The fact that he had put himself on the line, had created such a permanent rift between himself and Dani, for the sake of keeping him safe… it was something he still considered when he allowed his mind to wander. He wasn’t sure he was ever going to be able to repay him, though showing up for movie nights felt like a pretty good place to start. He had a sneaking suspicion Orion had organised this particular watch party in an attempt to make him feel more grounded, to make him feel more at ease with his new life… or death. But he was really hoping his company had something to offer Rio in return. It must get lonely sometimes, such a big house with nobody in it.

Turning his attention back to the popcorn as it began to pop in the microwave, he leaned heavily against the kitchen counter. The smell was already overwhelming, but he had been the one to insist. It wasn’t a movie night without popcorn, and something about the mundane routine was incredibly comforting. “So,” he said, turning briefly to Rio who was sitting beside him on the kitchen counter. “What did you say was on the list?” Still watching the timer as it continued to count down the seconds, he used his fingers to tick off the list of franchises he had been given by his friend. “Twilight, of course. But you said The Vampire Diaries, right? Specifically episode one? Did you make this list? Or did you steal it from a teenage girl’s tumblr account? Be honest with me.”

Sitting on the counter, Orion listened to the microwave’s buzzing as the kernels slowly started to pop. For once, the sound of the microwave and the distant sound of the pool filter wasn’t the only thing to keep Rio busy. He wasn’t sure anybody had been in the house to hang out with him since Skylar had left. It was such a relief to have somebody occupying space in the kitchen with him again. Even if this was only temporary, it was worth it. For just today at least, he wouldn’t feel so alone in this house. “Stop looking like that.” Rio warned, catching his eyes as they floated around the place, “I know what you’re thinking. I’m not a real housewife or whatever those rich people shows are. All of this was purely by chance. And it’s not mine. I’m just staying here for now.” Rio smiled, but he truly didn’t want Milo thinking the wrong thing. He didn’t know why he hated the idea of people thinking this was actually his house, but something about it felt wrong. Like he was living a facade. It was partially true, but not because of this house.

“Not necessarily in that order.” Orion checked his phone for the list he had compiled. Most of the media he had never consumed himself. His parents had never been fond of their children watching such inaccurate depictions of supernatural creatures. They didn’t want Athena and Rio to get the wrong idea of what they were weak to, but more than anything else they didn’t want them romanticizing the idea of what they considered monsters. Clearly, something had gone wrong along the way with Rio. “I did my research from multiple sources.” Rio countered, not necessarily disclosing where those sources came from. “I never got to watch this stuff growing up, so I’m going in just as blind as you. But I have seen some scenes from Twilight. Personally, I think it could have been worse.”

Milo laughed, unable to help himself. “I’m not looking like anything.” He insisted, holding up his hands in surrender. “I am, however, wondering who your sugar daddy is and how I can get in on the action.” His eyes were shining with mischief as he teased Orion. He knew his friend wouldn’t mind, and sometimes he just made it so easy. “Oh, because the order is important?” He asked, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Trash is trash, Rio. Sometimes you just gotta sit back and enjoy it.” Pulling open the door to the microwave as the alarm began to sound, he shook the bag of popcorn before emptying it into the bowl he had ready. His fingertips burned with the heat. It was strange no longer needing to worry about that. “Multiple sources being tumblr?” He raised his eyebrows, chewing absentmindedly on a piece of popcorn. The taste was pretty close to how he remembered it, only dull, and one note. Wrinkling his nose, he took another piece for the sake of it.

“Wait, you never got to watch vampire movies?” He had wrongly assumed Rio’s childhood largely consisted of vampire movies, and scary supernatural YA. It made sense considering what he was, what his parents were hoping he would grow up to become. Realising that may not be true was a reminder of just how much he didn’t know, just how much they still had to talk about when Orion was ready. If Orion was ready. “Wouldn’t that be like… homework for you?” He was genuinely curious to know. He hadn’t been allowed to watch much TV because his own parents had made it very clear they wanted him to study in his free time. But surely watching shows about the supernatural, learning about the supernatural, was studying for a hunter. “I guess we’re in it together then. Maybe we should start with Twilight after that glowing review.”

“I know you’re joking and that you don’t actually think I have a sugar… dad.” Orion scrunched his nose at the thought of saying the word. He didn’t have the emotional capacity to have a relationship like that. “It was a very specific and weird order of events that led to me being here. Including but not limited to my parents sucking, invading a girl’s privacy, getting attacked by a man eating watermelon and eventually the only person I’ve ever dated and I breaking up.” He was shortening events obviously, but this provided a very small glimpse of the life that Rio never disclosed to Milo at the comic book shop. They had never talked much about personal lives there, avoiding it altogether to chat about comic books instead. “My sources prefer to remain undisclosed.” He crossed his arms and pouted, abandoning Milo in the kitchen with the popcorn to head to the living room.

“It’s not really considered homework when it’s not accurate.” Rio spoke normally, but figured Milo would be able to hear him from where he was in the kitchen. Rio started setting up the tv to get their first pick of the night ready. “Not to say all of them are inaccurate, they all get a little bit right. But they thought it would do more harm than good.” Rio still found time to watch a few when he could. Whether it was through the movie theater or at the Scribrary when he not so formally moved in there. “Besides, vampires were never my families focus anyways.” He nodded in agreement with Milo on the movie pick and found the movie, starting it up before pausing, “Ready when you are.”

“But am I joking though?” Milo teased, laughing at the term Orion chose to use. “You can say daddy, you know. It isn’t going to kill you.” He laughed again, surprising himself with how easily the sound escaped him. Hugging the bowl of popcorn to his chest, he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so at ease, couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so warm. “Was the specific order of events signing up to a sugar daddy website? Going on a date? And then securing a sugar daddy?” Falling silent when Rio began to elaborate, he was reminded not for the first time of just how strange his life had been. Nobody who hadn’t grown up with the supernatural could ever drop a carnivorous watermelon into the conversation as though it was on the same level as a break up. “Huh, no kidding about the complicated…” He muttered, deciding not to ask any further questions. He didn’t want to bring the mood down, but he also didn’t want to make his friend uncomfortable. There was a time and a place for serious conversation, and the start of a trashy movie marathon didn’t feel like either.

Chewing on another piece of popcorn, he didn’t immediately follow Rio to the living room. Instead, he took the time to enjoy the moment, observing the mundane aspects of the kitchen, and appreciating them in a way he never had before. His life had been turned upside down, for a month before meeting Harsh he had spent his time between the abandoned buildings, the streets of town, and the woods. No kitchens, no bathrooms, no comfortable living space. It felt good to be back, to be grounded again. Listening to Orion as he explained why his parents had kept him away from certain shows and films, he could almost understand the logic. Not knowing whether Hunters had hearing on par with his own, he finally wandered into the living room to reply. “I guess that makes sense… though I can think of a few films that would probably help if they were trying to make you see these people as monsters. I mean basically every horror movie ever, let’s be real.” Raising his eyebrows at the mention of vampires not being the family's focus, he set the popcorn down on the coffee table. “Oh, yeah?” He asked, dropping onto the couch, making himself comfortable without any kind hesitation. Couch surfing in the years before his death had left him more than capable of relaxing in other people’s houses. “Do I want to know what your family’s focus was?” Nodding towards the screen, he let Rio know he was ready without potentially interrupting an answer to his question. There was still so much he needed to learn.

“I really feel like it could kill me. For my own sanity I’ll just avoid saying it altogether.” Milo was saying the word daddy way too many times for Orion’s sanity. Was this what Rio had set himself up for when he stayed in Skylar’s house? Sugar daddy accusations? The idea might be a bit less shocking if normal, no strings attached sex didn’t terrify Rio to his core. He couldn’t even sleep with his ex, who he adored. He couldn’t say he was surprised when Milo didn’t ask for any elaboration. Life here was complicated. They wouldn’t actually get to watch anything if they waited around for Rio to tell his life story.

“They had plenty of stories all on their own.” Rio remembered his parents' stories vividly. They spared no detail of the gore they had witnessed. They liked to talk about the death and destruction werewolves or fae would leave behind. Though they never spent as much time talking about what they would do to it in turn. Ironically, the ending always included some kind of heroic intervention. Their parents or their grandparents swooping in at the perfect time and serving justice. His sister used to fall for those stories every single time. Rio used to be afraid of those stories. It wasn’t until he got older that he realized exactly what he should have been afraid of. Rio pressed play on the movie and let it get started, but continued talking with Milo. “Depends on how much about the supernatural you want to know. Both of my parents came from different families of hunters. So Athena and I got to focus on two things growing up. Werewolves and Fae. But my… abilities were always focused towards werewolves.”

Milo made a big deal about pouting in disappointment. “Is that because you’re only allowed to say it in Daddy’s company?” He asked, before raising his arms in surrender. “Okay, okay- I’ll stop now, I swear- I couldn’t resist.” His smile fading as the conversation became serious once again, he leaned back against the cushions behind him, listening intently to what Orion had to say. His own parents had been strict, and rigid. Growing up, their expectations of him had been unreasonably high, and in his opinion, put him under an unnecessary amount of stress. But they had been loving, and caring, and they had never resorted to scare tactics. He couldn’t imagine the trauma Rio might be carrying from being intentionally scared by the people who were supposed to protect him. Had they really told him stories equal to the horror movies he used to binge watch? Surely it had to be worse if they were based on the truth? On experiences they had been through?

Laughing quietly, he reached forward again to pick up the popcorn bowl, somehow feeling more comfortable when he was holding it. The smell reminded him of watching movies with his parents, as did the action of occasionally eating some, even if the taste wasn’t quite there anymore. “I mean, it isn’t as though I can just ignore it…” He pointed out. He could bury his head in the sand, but there were too many things out there he had a feeling he should know about. Supernatural life had to be easier when you understood the full extent of the world you were living in. He wanted that to be true, at least. “Huh… so werewolves really do exist.” He muttered, more to himself than to Rio. It was something he had suspected for a while, but his friend was now the first person to confirm the fact. “Fae?” He echoed, realising he wasn’t familiar with the term. Pausing for a moment, recognising the way Orion hesitated, he chewed thoughtfully on a piece of popcorn, offering the bowl to him as though it might remind him he was in a safe environment. “So, forgetting the- you know, the bad stuff, what can you do?” He asked curiously. “You’re different, right? You told Dani you barely counted as human so… are we talking Spider-Man backflips? Or is it something else? Was one of your ancestors bitten by a radioactive werewolf?” He wanted to give Orion the chance to talk in a playful way, in a way that almost trivialised the darker aspects of his life. Rio had begun to make vampire jokes, and the relaxed environment they created helped to lift some of the weight from his shoulders. Maybe, just maybe, he could return the sentiment.

Orion was mostly happy to ignore the beginning scenes of the movie in favor of talking with Milo. Even if the topic was his least favorite to discuss. For some reason, things with Milo just seemed easier. He could casually talk about topics he would usually avoid unless absolutely necessary. “Sorry to ruin your fun. I’m sure you wanted to find out about werewolves naturally.” Rio laughed, gesturing for the bowl of popcorn and then opening his mouth to see if Milo would try to throw it to him. “Fae are a lot more complicated. That’s a supernatural lesson for another night. But they have their own sect of hunters.” He didn’t need to overwhelm Milo with all of that knowledge. There were too many fae to describe in a single setting anyways. Not that Rio knew all of them as it was.

Rio couldn’t but laugh at the radioactive werewolf comment. The comic humor didn’t escape him, but it was the irony of the theory that made it even better “Oh god I wish. If hunters found out they were actually descended from werewolves I think their heads would spin.” Rio might actually go back to the Silver Bullet if he got to see that. “Yeah. I guess. I have this sort of… sixth sense I guess. If a werewolf is around I can feel it.” The gift that kept on giving. He had never figured out if there was an off switch to it. He mostly just dealt with it until he went numb to the tingling sensation. “I have faster reflexes. I’m kinda strong. I heal a bit faster than normal humans. Oh and I can see in the dark.” Rio tried shrugging them off. He never liked his abilities. No matter how great they might be objectively. “I could probably do a spider-man backflip if I trained. Any more questions?”

“Oh, no. I’ve already found out way too much without anyone to guide me through it. I’m done with finding things out on my own.” Milo assured his friend. In reality, it had been an incredibly difficult, and jarring process, but sitting here with Orion now made it more than easy to shrug off. Raising his eyebrows when he realised what he was being asked to do with the popcorn, he laughed, shifting on the sofa to give himself a better angle before aiming carefully. He so nearly missed, but with a sharp tilt of his head Rio caught the popcorn on his tongue, and he felt a ridiculous sense of accomplishment that definitely wasn’t warranted. Nodding in acceptance of Fae being too broad of a subject to cover without ruining the evening, he shelved his curiosity, ready for another night, another conversation. Offering Orion a grin when he laughed, he was genuinely proud of himself for being able to draw it out of him. He knew him well enough to understand this subject wasn’t one he was overly comfortable with. And he was not only talking about it now, but willing to joke about it. He enjoyed that.

“The ultimate plot twist, right?” He agreed, listening to the description of a sixth sense, wondering if it felt anything like being able to sense the blood pumping through a person’s veins. There were some moments it was all he could think about, hearing their heartbeat, feeling the heat of their skin, the pulse in their neck… he swallowed, pushing away the thought before he could make himself thirsty. That wasn’t going to be productive. And it certainly wouldn’t do anything to help his case in proving to Orion he was the same person he had always been. “So kind of like Spider-Man?” He confirmed. “I was almost right.” At the mention of any more questions, he sat up straight, attempting to look as serious as he could. “Only two. Potentially the two most important questions you are ever going to be asked. Number one; are you Team Edward, or Team Jacob?” He waited for his words to register before continuing, gesturing to the screen where the Cullen’s were entering the school cafeteria. They were walking in slow motion, their skin white, and pale against the film’s dramatic colour grading, and their faces were striking, intense, so obviously intended to be sexy. “Number two;” he added, maintaining his mock sincerity. “Do I look like that now? There’s only one right answer to this question, okay? Don’t hurt my feelings.”

Orion hadn’t exactly spoken about his history with the Scribrary. Or rather, two separate scribe buildings that he had access to now. The drama with Dani and the discovery of the hunter heritage all felt so fresh that RIo didn’t feel the need to pile on top of that with the Scribe history. But Milo might have lucked out in friendship when it came to finding someone with supernatural knowledge. Milo accommodated Rio’s request and tossed a piece of popcorn that Rio just barely managed to catch. The surprise took over, and he shot his arms up in the air in a triumphant cheer, maybe an overreaction but not one he was going to regret.

“I’m not that lucky. My family was convinced that the powers come directly from God. So take that as you will.” Rio was glad Milo was getting such a kick out of this. It was surprisingly easy to talk about it when the conversation wasn’t so… depressing. “Basically. I’m not nearly as cool or pretty as Peter Parker though.” He had gone through a long Peter Parker phase when he was younger, for obvious reasons. Rio was ready for his follow up questions until Milo actually asked them. He rolled his eyes and groaned in response, but felt his posture relax slightly at the change of subject. “I’ve seen enough memes to know the only right answer is Bella’s dad. I mean like… look at him.” Rio pointed at the screen, even though he wasn’t actually on it at the time. His point stood. “What’s so bad about looking like that, huh? I think you’ve always sparkled to me.” Rio laughed to himself and shot an innocent smile in Milo’s direction, “You look much more alive than they do.”

There was something so endearing about the way Rio celebrated his win, that for a few seconds following Milo found himself entirely speechless, overwhelmed by the affection he felt for his friend. “Maybe you are God.” He teased, barely putting any consideration into the joke, knowing Orion would appreciate it regardless. “Maybe you’re going to get older and suddenly inherit your omnipotence. If you don’t know what to do with your powers, please come to me. I have some pretty great ideas, you know. Tequila in every water fountain would be a good place to start...” Laughing at the mention of Peter Parker, he wasn’t sure he had met anyone who hadn’t crushed on the character at some point in their life. Sexual orientation didn’t come into play in relation to Spider-Man. “Hey, don’t put yourself down like that. You’re every bit as great as Peter Parker. I’d choose you over him any fucking day.”

Feeling a spark of satisfaction at the reaction to his questions, his eyes were shining with mischief. He was unapologetically proud of garnering such a response. “Okay, but is Bella’s dad hotter than Jacob, is that what you’re trying to tell me here?” If he had a heartbeat, he knew he would be blushing at the comment on sparkling. It was such a stupid thing to get flustered over, but he was rarely ever the recipient of compliments. He didn’t know how to accept them. “You know…” He shifted on the couch, readjusting the popcorn bowl. “That’s probably a good thing because if you try pushing me into the sunlight it isn’t going to end well. Let me sparkle in the dark, please and thank you.” Glancing back up at the screen, he wondered if the vampires in Twilight had reflections. Surely they must, how else would they look so flawlessly put together? “I do?” He asked curiously, pressing his fingertips to one of his cheeks as though he would be able to feel what Orion was talking about, the difference in complexion, the difference in demeanour. “I guess I don’t really know what I look like anymore… it’s weird only seeing myself on my phone screen, it isn’t like I can use any natural lighting either. The whole thing is just… really fucking weird.”

“You’re getting way too deep for me.” Orion laughed, lowering his victory arms and pull his legs up until a fetal position instead. “I’d have to get old in the first place. Hunters don’t exactly have the same life expectancy as an average human.” Sure, that was mostly due to the dangerous nature of their lives. But Rio had already decided long ago that just turning away from his hunter heritage and trying to live a normal life wasn’t enough. He had to actively try to protect the supernatural. In a way, he might be cutting his life even shorter. He was siding with people that may want to kill by going against those that would protect him. He wasn’t going to be getting much love from either side, in some cases. “I’ll make sure to keep your suggestions in mind though. In case I ever meet them.” Not that he really believed in any of that. “Now I know you’re just being nice. Everybody would choose Peter Parker.”

With a shrug, Rio tried to defend his statement, “I’ve been spoiled on some parts of this series. There’s a lot to be left desired about Jacob. Mr. Swan seems like a nice guy. I mean he’s older than what I would be comfortable dating, but honestly I’m just not comfortable dating.” Honesty was a virtue, or so they say. Rio spent so much of his life lying that when he finally met those he could tell the truth to it seemed to all erupt at once like a volcano. “Yeah. Suddenly the night hang outs make a lot more sense.” Rio considered what Milo talked about. It was so strange, the idea that he could no longer see himself. Something that was so trivial to most people that they don’t think twice about it as they pass by a mirror and check their hair. “Sure. I mean, I’m not like… I don’t know studying your features or anything but…” Not off to a great start, “You just look like… you. The movie seems to over exaggerate the pale features and stuff like that. I don’t think you look much different. Which is nice.” Jesus, his face felt like it was on fire. He thought he had moved past this by now?

“Hm, I don’t think anybody has ever called me ‘deep’ before.” Milo admitted, doing nothing to hide how amused he was. “I kind of like it.” His smile fading rapidly at Orion’s second comment, he suddenly found himself eyeing his friend with an open, and unguarded concern. It was a strange thing to say so casually, especially when it was clearly not intended as a joke. He hadn’t considered the life expectancy of Hunters until this moment, and he wasn’t sure it was something he really wanted to dwell on. Orion was safe, because Orion wasn’t a Hunter, right? How could you be a Hunter when you weren’t actively hunting? He wasn’t stupid enough to believe it was that simple, but for now, he was happy to convince himself otherwise. “Please do.” He said, easily falling back into their banter. “I think Tequila on tap would make the world a much greater place to be.” Offering Rio a warm smile, he needed him to see how serious he was. “Rio,” he said, his voice slow, and sincere. “I promise I would choose you. I mean, fuck Peter Parker. Come on...” Peter had a lot to offer, sure. But in his own mind Orion also had powers, Orion was just as interesting, if not more interesting because unlike Peter, he had actively saved his life. Or… unlife? He still wasn’t sure how that terminology worked.

His smile only growing when his friend proceeded to announce just how much he really knew about the Twilight series, he couldn’t bring himself to tease him for it. Not after the reminder of how grateful he was to be in his company. “Hey, you know what? Neither am I.” He admitted, quite possibly for the first time out loud. You only had to look at his history, at the ridiculous patterns of repeated behaviour for his commitment issues to become apparent. Even he knew he had them, he wasn’t about to deny it. His childhood had been too structured, too rigid. It had left him with a determination to be free. He still wasn’t entirely sure what his definition of ‘free’ was, especially now. But he did know it didn’t include dating. “Honestly, people are probably better off without having to deal with my bullshit anyway.” He absentmindedly took a handful of popcorn from the bowl, eating the pieces one by one before speaking again. “I was always more active at night anyway.” He shrugged off his new limitations. Life didn’t feel all too different in that aspect. The days had always been reserved for sleeping off hangovers and comedowns, the only thing he really missed was working. And Tower Comics usually had late shifts on offer, so hopefully he wouldn’t have to miss it for very long.

Pausing for a moment, hand halfway back to the popcorn, he realised Orion was observing him, carefully taking him in. It made him feel strangely exposed, but not uncomfortable like he might have assumed. There was something about his friend that made him feel so at ease, he couldn’t explain it even if he wanted to. He could only hope the sentiment was shared between them. The relief he felt when he was assured he still looked like himself was unexpected, until the words escaped Rio he had been entirely convinced it didn’t matter, he didn’t care. There was something so grounding about realising his appearance hadn’t changed. It was only further validation of the fact that he was still Milo, regardless of what Dani believed. Regardless of what Hunters and Slayers were taught about his kind. A half smile tugging at his lips, he didn’t hide how vulnerable he felt, because he didn’t want to hide how vulnerable he felt. He wanted to be honest, Rio deserved that much from him. “Thank you.” He murmured, his voice barely louder than a whisper. It didn’t take very long for him to push his vulnerability to the side though, because it became all too easy to make a joke as the blood rushed to Rio’s face. He believed Rio when he said he was over his crush, but he was always going to enjoy watching him blush. “You know, blushing in front of a vampire kind of makes you look like a snack.” He grinned, hoping his play on words would be obvious, and Rio would realise he was paying him a compliment.

“Do you want me to repeat it again so you can hear it more?” Orion laughed, resting his chin on his knees and shifting his tone to an only partially faked form of admiration, “Wow, Milo. You’re just soooo deep. I’ve never met anyone as intellectual as you.” Rio grinned after finishing, leaning back against the arm of the chair, “Hope that helped.” Despite the joking nature of the conversation, Milo seemed all too sincere when doubling down that Rio was better than Peter Parker. As absurd as that sounded, Rio couldn’t help but be a bit flattered. More than that though, he felt embarrassed by the compliment. One that he didn’t exactly know how to reply to. He was always terrible at accepting compliments. Instead, he switched guys. “Right. Well you should be careful who you promise stuff to. It’s a whole fae thing, I’ll explain later. But just be mindful of words like that to people.” Rio had learned the hard way just how dangerous a promise could be in the wrong hands. “But uh… thanks.”

Rio didn’t know how to respond to Milo. Rio wasn’t good at relationships, though maybe for different reasons than Milo. He didn’t know how to tell Milo that he didn’t seem like a hassle at all without it sounding like Rio was trying to date him. He shrugged the question off instead, choosing instead to show minor interest in the movie again until Milo mentioned being more active at night. “Yeah, I guess I sort of am too. I get the most done at night.” Less distractions to worry about, he figured.

Having his red face pointed out to him probably made Rio blush even harder. At the very least, it made his cheeks light on fire. “A joke about eating me? That’s just in poor taste.” Rio couldn’t even pretend to be serious, not with his giggling and the smile that wouldn’t leave his face. If compliments made him so awkward, how come he also couldn’t stop grinning? “Most people think I’m one missed meal away from snapping in half. This town thinks I’m like a saltine cracker or something. Just waiting to be stepped on and crumble.” Was that how Rio avoided dealing with the possibility that the vampire had just called him cute? Definitely.

“Obviously.” Milo countered quickly, tilting his chin in an attempt to look proud, and smug, as Orion elaborated on his intelligence. “Thank you, thank you.” He teased. “I don’t try at all, you know? It just comes to me naturally.” Quickly dissolving into laughter, he caught his friends eye, joining him in sinking back down into the cushions. “Oh, it did.” He assured Rio. “I appreciate the confidence boost.” A frown creasing his brow as he listened curiously to the warning, he hadn’t forgotten their unwritten agreement to put off the difficult conversations, to keep things light-hearted, and fun, and deal with the real world at another time. But he had a burning desire to know more, to understand. He felt as though he had been living in the dark, metaphorically, of course, for far too long now. Orion had become his light. “Okay, how about swearing? If I swear to choose you over Peter Parker, is that going to put me in danger?” He asked, genuinely wanting to know. “Hm, you don’t need to thank me, you dork. Thank Parker for being lamer than you are.” He nudged him with his shoulder, encouraging him to smile. “Who knew that was possible, huh?”

Dropping his head back against the cushions behind him, he turned his attention to the film as Orion insisted he was also a night owl. He kind of figured, given how they had reconnected, but it was a nice detail, one he was very happy to know. With every day that passed he could feel them trusting each other more, getting closer, and more comfortable with being who they were. What they were. He used to have that with Dani… not so much now. And he was so, so grateful he wasn’t alone. Laughing again, even harder this time, he couldn’t help himself. The situation was so ridiculous, so beyond funny that he had to laugh. If he didn’t laugh he would cry, or go insane, whichever came first. “Oh really?” He demanded, his eyes shining as he looked back at his friend. “You started it with the whole pointing out my lungs don’t work for shit, so… do you know how rude it is to tell someone they’re dead? How do you think Edward would feel?” Humming quietly, making his amusement abundantly clear, he chewed on another piece of popcorn. “Yeah, well, the joke’s on them because Saltine Crackers taste fucking great. Hey look,” he feigned surprise, wondering if he could elicit another blush. “Another joke about eating you.”

Orion had to appreciate Milo’s commitment to this Peter Parker debate. He wasn’t Rio’s favorite character by any means, but he was one of the most popular characters in probably all of comics. Being compared to and even rated above him was a surprisingly good feeling. “Swearing is tricky too. Though I guess not for a statement like that.” Unless there were any real Peter Parker’s in the world whose life came in danger soon. “It’s best to avoid any potentially binding statements like that. Just to be safe.” Rio needed to take his own advice. It was pathetic how easily he fell into Lydia’s grasp when he had grown up with two wardens constantly warning him of the dangers of fae. “Well I’m going to make sure my headstone reads that I was less lame than Peter Parker. Probably my biggest accomplishment in life.”

It was so nice not sitting on the couch by himself like he normally did every night. Even if they were watching a movie that Rio didn’t particularly care for. Things could be a lot worse. Right now with Milo things seemed pretty okay. Good even. “That’s old news now, you can’t use that against me!” It didn’t matter that it was barely a week old, Rio just wanted the spotlight off of him again. “I’d like to think that he would have a sense of humor about it.” He paused, glancing at the screen and trying to think of more than once in the entire movie so far that he had actually smiled, “Actually, never mind. Point taken.” Oh god. Did Milo just making another joke about eating Rio? Far past the vampire reference, this made Rio heat up even further. He dug his forehead into his raised knees and curled up into a ball so Milo couldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing his face. “No fair. You’re doing this on purpose!” Rio yelled, the sound slightly muffled from pressing against his jeans.

“Hm, okay.” Milo agreed, nodding as he took in what Orion was telling him. Until the real conversations, until they could sit down and talk about everything he didn’t know, he was going to hold onto the snippets of information he was given. He was smart enough to understand if Rio was telling him now, on their supposed night off from the world of the supernatural, then it was important. “No binding statements, got it. I stand by what I said though.” He added, grinning at his friend. “Only slightly less lame, but, you know... it’s enough.” He didn’t want to imagine any gravestone for Rio, the idea of mortality versus immortality was something he had strictly refused to let himself think about, but he had to admit the thought of the tagline was amusing. “You’re not going to top that, so you may as well give up now.” He teased, catching Rio’s eye and feeling an undeniable rush of affection. He needed this, a reminder that all hope wasn’t lost. There were things, and people, worth living for.

Laughing at the response to the previous joke being dragged back to the present, he shook his head, allowing himself to focus on the now. He got lost in his own head far too often, and he didn’t want to miss a second of this night with Orion. “Nope, that so isn’t how it works.” He insisted. “I think you’ll find I can, and I will.” Laughing again as they both turned to watch Edward on screen, the vampire’s mouth a thin, straight line, his body filled with obvious tension, he couldn’t remember laughing this hard since his death. He couldn’t remember feeling so normal. Who knew Twilight was going to be his saviour? Only tearing his gaze away from the screen to watch Rio hide his face, he playfully reached out to tug at his arms. “Doing what on purpose?” He asked, his innocence very obviously disingenuous. “Doing what? I don’t understand, Rio. My mind is pure, and innocent, and virtuous. I’m only trying to compliment you.”

“I’ll take what I can get. Slightly less lame is just fine.” Orion laughed, revelling in this moment. Where all that seemed to matter was Milo, Peter Parker and the sounds of twilight distant in the background. It was a good moment. “Clearly I’ve peaked in life. No reason to go on from here.” It had been so, so long since he had been able to laugh like that. It almost made him sad, thinking about how lonely he had felt lately. But he pushed aside that butterfly in his stomach. Good vibes only tonight.

Rio wasn’t going to budge as Milo pulled at his arms, refusing to give him a win on this. A small bit of light shone through as his leg shifted and he peaked up to meet Milo’s eye, “I don’t believe you.” Rio pouted, readjusting to shut his leg again. “I don’t think you’re pure, innocent or virtuous.” Eventually, Rio had to end the facade and lifted his head back up. He feigned annoyance, narrowing his eyes at his guest and crossing his arms. “You know if you had ‘complimented me’ like that like a year ago I probably would have melted to the floor right?” He used his fingers to make air quotes. They both knew that was true. Until Rio met Winston and started dating them, Milo was one of the small list of pretty guys that Rio could barely form words around. Another being Ricky and Adam. Thankfully, that had passed. Or Rio sure hoped that it had. The redness in his face seemed to be arguing against that. “Don’t you have a movie to watch? Notes to take? Like about baseball and spider monkeys?”

“Good.” Milo teased. “I would hate for you to be disappointed.” Laughing at Orion’s comment, he gestured to where they were sitting. “I mean, you’re sitting on a couch watching Twilight with a vampire. You’ve definitely peaked.” Picking up a piece of popcorn and throwing it lazily at his friend, he rolled his eyes, splitting his attention between their conversation and the movie. “That doesn’t mean you get to tap out though, asshole, so you can quit with no reason to go on. When I say give up I mean spend your life getting high, and eating pizza. Because we both know those are two excellent motivators for staying alive.” His laughter only coming more easily to him as Rio refused to budge, he eventually let go of his arms, allowing him re-emerge from the darkness in his own time.

“Excuse me, I am all three of those things.” He countered, pretending to be offended by the apparent lack of faith. “But I guess I can forgive you, I’m a complicated person, so difficult to understand.” He was being overly dramatic for the sake of it, but wasn’t that what was so great about this night? They could be young, and dumb, and make stupid jokes. They could shut away the outside world and pretend the only thing that mattered were their ridiculous attempts at humour, and the emotionless, super hot vampires on the television screen. “Yeah, I know, I’m sad I didn’t realise at the time.” He grinned mischievously. “Although maybe that would have driven you away and then where would you have bought your comics from?” Shoving Rio gently when he told him he should be taking notes, the popcorn bowl spilled over, but he paid no attention to the scattered pieces. He would clean them up when necessary, but the whole point of right now was being free, living in the moment. “Yeah? Maybe we should try out for the same team. You’re every bit as weird as I am, you know? With your X-Men Hunter mutation bullshit. We’re in this together now.” He did nothing to hide how much the closing statement meant to him, allowing the warmth of his words to remind him he was cared for, and protected. They both were.

“That’s what you call peaking, huh?” Orion laughed sarcastically, “I’d love to say I have higher standards. Clearly that’s not true.” And it wasn’t. His two best friends now were a werewolf and a vampire. It was like something out of a dream. Or maybe one of his parent’s nightmares. The majority of his friend group was supernaturally inclined in some way. Whether that be spellcasters or one of the supernatural beings his parents tried and failed to raise him to despise. Rio plucked the piece of popcorn from the couch that Milo so rudely launched at him and popped it in his mouth. “I don’t smoke though, so that’s already one reason eliminated. I do love pizza though.” Rio glanced up at the ceiling to consider that prospect. Pizza did sound pretty appealing. Actually, pizza sounded good right now. “Hmm, maybe we should order a pizza.”

“Not right now, you aren’t.” Rio refused to give him anything while he teased him for the crush Rio had before the two were legitimate friends. It felt like a lifetime ago admittedly, though in reality it had probably been less than a year. Rio had a habit of developing feelings like that for just about every pretty guy that spoke nice words to him. At least until Rio moved in with Ricky and Winston and Rio practically fell in love with Winston instead. Rio hadn’t felt anything quite like that since Winston left town. “Don’t be. I wouldn’t have known how to date back then even if I had the opportunity.” He barely figured out how to date Winston, and that had been an entire saga on its own, “And don’t smile at me like that!” Though he detested the idea of being compared to a hunter, he understood Milo’s sentiment and at least appreciated that he veiled it with comic book references, “I’m only going to take that as a compliment because you compared me to the X-Men. But absolutely not. No sports for me.”

“I’m offended by the implication of you settling for my company.” Milo teased. “But I’ll choose to let that slide because I’m comfortable and I don’t want to waste my energy on a dramatic exit.” Laughing quietly when Rio ate the popcorn he had dropped, he carefully contemplated the suggestion of pizza. It was another food he hadn’t tried since becoming a vampire. If his experiences with eating and drinking were anything to go on, it would be nowhere near as enjoyable as it used to be. But wasn’t that what you were supposed to do? You ate popcorn until you were genuinely hungry, and then you decided to order takeout. The familiarity of the routine was too strong for him to say no. “Want to order after Twilight?” He asked, glancing back towards the screen. They had to be reaching the middle of the film, they might even be two thirds of the way through. “Heads up, though. If you put garlic on it, then you’re going to end up on the menu.”

His smile only growing as Orion continued to insist he wasn’t pure, innocent, or virtuous, he finally abandoned his claims. “Maybe not.” He admitted, content to give in now that he had pushed back just a little. He had to at least remain indignant if he was going to accept defeat. Forgetting the makeshift disagreement, he settled further down into the cushions, pulling his legs up beneath him, listening to his friend explain he wouldn’t have known how to date. It was hardly surprising, given what he had come to know about Orion’s quiet, and gentle nature. But if he was being honest, he hadn’t either. Hell, he still didn’t know how to date. They had met just under a year ago, but it was clear a lot had changed for both of them over such a short period of time. “Screw you, I’m allowed to smile at you!” He countered, his tone petulant, but filled with affection. “And yeah, I knew the X-Men talk would do it, you’re very predictable, you know?”

“Well I’m offended by your attacks on me tonight. And for using my old crush against me to tease me. Both are very rude.” Orion hummed matter-of-factly, “So we can both be offended together. But only one of us gets the dramatic exit at the end.” He didn’t get many relationships like this. Teasing and comfort didn’t come naturally to him. It was hard to find his groove in a conversation when he had to spend so much of it planning ahead and second guessing every single word both before and after it came out of his mouth. Normally, he spent just as much time stumbling through a sentence as he did actually speaking. It usually took a lot of time and a lot of effort and patience on the other parties side to crack through some of that anxiety. Even then, he had only really achieved that sense of ease with a few people. Ariana, Blanche, Winston and Skylar were the first that came to mind. Now Milo too. It was comforting knowing that there were at least some people in town he could be his unfiltered self around. “You don’t have to ask me twice.” Rio shook his head passionately, the idea of pizza far too good to pass up. “Oh ha ha. Very funny. No garlic crust for us apparently.”

A yawn escaped Rio, and he stretched before readjusting on the couch to lay on his bed across it. He kept his knees bent and his head propped on the arm so he could still look over at Milo. “But I like you anyways” Rio reassured the vampire and gave him a thumbs up from his new position on the couch. “You’re allowed to smile at me. Just not like that.” Rio was still joking, but it had definitely been different than the other grins the two had exchanged. Rio didn’t have the energy to try to discern why it felt so different. Besides, he didn’t want to ruin the mood. He kept shifting his view between the movie and Milo. “Being predictable is exactly the vibe I’m going for. Nonthreatening, predictable, totally normal non-hunter Rio.”

“This is your house, moron, so obviously I get the dramatic exit.” Milo pointed out, very pleased they were in something together, even if the comment had been trivial, and light-hearted. It felt good to be side by side with Orion. He knew, to a certain extent, they really were in this together. In everything together. His friendship with Rio was quickly becoming his main source of support, and he couldn’t imagine it any other way. “You don’t need to tell me, I know I’m hilarious.” He added, watching as his friend stretched lazily, curling up on the sofa in a way that stupidly made him want to find a blanket, fetch him a hot chocolate, and make sure he was comfortable. He looked so innocent, it would be impossible to know all of the terrible things he had seen in his life. The struggles he had to face on a daily basis. Turning his attention back to the film, he couldn’t say anything particularly interesting had happened, but he had to admit he had thoroughly enjoyed the viewing experience. Despite not knowing what like that meant, he hummed quietly in response. “Sure, whatever.” A quiet laugh managed to escape him as he made a start on what was left of the popcorn. “I don’t know about labels, but whoever you are, I like you very much. I appreciate your vibes, you know.” He was only half teasing, needing Rio to know he genuinely enjoyed his company, that moments like these meant more to him than he could ever possibly say.

Keeping his gaze fixed on the screen, he didn’t want to embarrass Orion further, even if he was desperate to see his reaction to the admission, so he fell back into a comfortable silence, patiently allowing the end of the story play out. Simultaneously, it felt as though it was over in minutes, and took hours to finally draw to a close, but as the credits began to roll, accompanied by a tacky love song he embarrassingly recognised, he turned back to Orion, ready to ask him whether he still wanted pizza. It didn’t take him long to realise his friend definitely wasn’t hungry, though, and he stared, almost in shock, as Orion slept soundly on the cushions beside him. It wasn’t as though he was surprised he was tired, or surprised he had been lulled to sleep by what he could only assume was a vampire satire. It was the fact that he had fallen asleep next to him. Next to a vampire. Dani had made it perfectly clear he couldn’t be trusted, that nobody should be left alone with him. And although he knew Orion didn’t agree with her, being alone with somebody fully conscious was very different to being alone with them and unaware. Being alone with them and vulnerable. Biting down on his bottom lip, repressing a smile, he shrugged off his hoodie without jostling the couch, carefully draping it over Orion’s form. He could try and find a blanket, but wandering his house without his permission felt too much like a violation, so hopefully the item of clothing would suffice. He didn’t need to sleep, he didn’t need to rest in the same way Orion did, but as he settled back down again, unable to tear his gaze away, he realised he was in a position to protect. To care for somebody he was fairly certain wasn’t used to being cared for. “Night, Rio… I’ll be here when you wake up.”

#c:orion #milo and orion

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babbushka · 3 years

Text

The Christmas Waltz

Daniel Jones x Reader

2.1k; Fluff

Available on AO3

(tagging my kind friend @candycanes19 for her love of Dan!)

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

Frosted windowpanes

Candles gleaming inside

Painted candy canes on the tree

Santa's on his way

He's filled his sleigh with things

Things for you and for me…

Dan doesn’t know how it’s happened, really. One minute it was Thanksgiving and he was rushing to call his parents and let them know he won’t be joining their dinner table this year, and the next it’s somehow Christmas Eve. He scrubs a hand down his face with a sigh, straightens out his spine. He’s been down here in this fucking basement for coming up on nineteen hours, he figures it’s time to call it a night. There was little he could get done these days anyway, everyone he needs to contact is either on vacation or simply not returning his emails.

So, Dan wraps himself up in his coat, makes sure his scarf is on tightly to brave the D.C. winter – when had it started to snow? – and says goodnight to the guest security guard while his familiar friend is away in Pennsylvania for the holiday.

He resolves to ordering some takeout, putting on the Charlie Brown special like he does every year, and tries not to think about how lonely going back to his apartment will be, but well. He didn’t have anyone to spend the holiday with.

Or so he thinks.

It's that time of year

When the world falls in love

Every song you hear seems to say

Merry Christmas

May your New Year dreams come true…

When Dan approaches his apartment door, little brass key already in hand, he comes up short. There’s a light on that he can see through the crack underneath his door, can hear music playing softly, and most importantly, he can smell something absolutely delicious wafting down the hall. Frowning, he checks to make sure that this is indeed his apartment, but yes there it is, that’s his door.

Hesitantly, he half expects this to be some kind of trap that the CIA has planted for him as a punishment for sticking his nose where it “doesn’t belong”, but when he opens the door he’s faced with you.

You, standing in his kitchen, dancing to yourself along with the music that’s playing on the small radio Dan keeps on the counter. Just about every pot and pan that Dan owns is either on the stove or in the sink, his dining table completely filled with food being kept warm under tight silver foil wrappings. There’s a very small tree in the living room, decorated with white lights and silver tinsel, and all of the ornaments that Dan’s mother had given him when he moved into this place years ago.

How had you found that?

How had you done any of this?

But before he can start asking his questions, you hear him at the door, and immediately you lower the volume of the radio and wipe the flour off your hands onto a little dishtowel.

“You’re home!” You give him the most beautiful grin he’s ever seen in his life, and Dan wonders if he’s actually hallucinating.

You live directly across the hall from him, and he has been harboring something of a crush on you for as long as you’ve lived there. Your friendship had started as all too many friendly neighbor relationships had -- late night run-ins at the mail room, occasional bumps at the grocery store, sometimes Dan saw you in the park when he goes on his runs. You’ve offered him all sorts of extra sweets and food that you cook too much of, he’s always given you holiday cards, and lately your friendship had been blossoming into something closer.

Not necessarily close enough for you to break into his apartment, though.

“(Y/N)? What, how did you get in here?” Dan has to ask, has to be practical, even if he is hallucinating.

“You gave me a key, remember?” You reply, holding up the matching brass key to his front door.

“Oh that,” He remembers now, remembers how hard his heart had started to beat when he asked if you could swap keys, with the intention being, “But that was for emergencies only.”

You cast your gaze down, worried he’s going to be angry. And by all accounts, he should be, he should be very angry with you, but.

But well, he can’t think of anything more lovely, than you in his apartment.

“If you ask me, being alone on Christmas is as pressing of an emergency as any other.” You say so softly, gesturing to the huge spread that must have taken you an absolute age to put together, “I…well I hope you don’t mind, I made dinner.”

Dan’s face burns with embarrassment, he knows that he’s got practically nothing in his own fridge, nothing but a couple old takeout containers that should probably be thrown out by now, and expired milk. You must have brought everything but salt and pepper over, but you’re kind enough not to make a big fuss about it.

“I thought…weren’t you going traveling this year?” Dan finally steps fully into his apartment, closes and locks the door behind him. He sets down his briefcase and slips off his scarf, loosens his tie. For a moment his mind trips up with how domestic of an act that is; he might as well kiss you on your cheek and say, honey I’m home.

“My flight got canceled because of that blizzard.” You shake your head with a sad sigh, “I’m going to see family for New Year’s instead, and I thought why not surprise you with a little cheer?”

“I’m very surprised.” Dan nods, scratching the back of his neck, trying to process it all.

“You hate it, I’m sorry.” You take his tone the wrong way, immediately start to clean up the mess you’ve made, face falling and burning with shame.

“What? No -- !” Dan trips over his tongue trying to apologize. He rushes to you, his big palms on your arms, looking you directly in the eye, “No, I don’t hate it. I – I’m – thank you.”

He means it earnestly, means it so much that he doesn’t know how to even describe it, how grateful he is for you.

“You’re welcome.” Smiling again, the look you give Dan has relief rushing through the both of your chests as you ask gently, “Want to change into something comfortable, and we’ll eat?”

Dan just nods, goes into his bedroom.

And when he emerges in a pair of soft trousers and a sweater, you offer him a plate.

And this song of mine

In three-quarter time

Wishes you and yours

The same thing too

Santa's on his way

He's filled his sleigh with things

Things for you and for me…

The dinner is incredible, it’s so flavorful that it makes Dan wonder what the hell he’s been eating all this time. He never knew food could be so good, or maybe he did once upon a time – a time before this case. He sighs, suddenly feeling so weary, resenting how this whole thing has spiraled into something so all-consuming. It would be easier if he had help, but he was very aware of how on his own he was.

At least, he was regarding the case.

You’re sitting opposite from him, and it’s so nice to have another person to look at, to talk to, to be with, at dinner time. He doesn’t think he’s had all these lights on at once in a long time, he almost doesn’t recognize his own apartment without the blue glow of the television in the dark.

“Have you been here long?” Dan wonders aloud, trying to piece together how and when you managed to get all this done.

“Kind of, but that’s okay. The radio and all the cooking kept me company. You’re back earlier than I was expecting, if you can believe it.” You chuckle into your glass, checking your watch to see what time it even was.

Dan’s heart does a little flip at the insinuation that you’ve been paying attention to his schedule. He’s got yours perfectly memorized too, had learned it so that he could try and stage something where he might pluck up the courage to ask you out.

Did this count? Was this a date of some sort?

The radio is playing softly, the lights on the Christmas tree twinkle and blink slowly, you’ve even put up the fake fireplace channel on the television in the living room, the digital crackle filling the apartment with placebo warmth. You’re both in comfortable cozy clothes, your shoes are off, Dan’s got a stain of gravy on his sweater – it’s the most intimate thing Dan has ever experienced.

“Everything’s delicious, I can’t remember the last time I ate something so good.” He compliments your cooking, unsure of how he’s going to actually be able to finish all of this. Hopefully you’ll take some back to your apartment when the night is over.

The very thought of that has his chest tightening – he doesn’t want you to leave. He doesn’t want this night to be over, he realizes, when you grow flustered at his compliments. Dan would give anything to get to see you look at him like that again, every day.

“I’m really glad you like it, Daniel.” You smile softly, eyes filled with something like fondness.

“Call me Dan.” He tries not to get his hopes up, but it’s hard, so hard when your foot brushes against his gently, and you say just barely above a whisper in an agreement,

“Dan.”

It's that time of year

When the world falls in love

Every song you hear seems to say

Merry Christmas

May your New Year dreams come true…

You’ve both finished as much as you can eat, and Dan is dreading this part.

This is the part where you part ways, where you leave and go back all the way across the hall, and Dan’s alone again. He’s got a dishwasher and for the first time in his life he wishes that he hadn’t, just so the dishes would take longer, and he’d have more time to be with you.

But just as he thinks you’re about to do the whole it’s getting late…you catch something on the radio, and your whole face lights up.

“Oh – !” You gasp, turning the dial up a bit as Frank Sinatra’s voice croons and fills the apartment, “This is one of my favorite songs.”

“Really? Mine too.” Dan grins, thinking how lucky he is, how could he ever be so lucky!

“Dance with me, please?” You practically plead, your hands grasping for his and holding them tight to your chest, making Dan blink and blush and sweat a little.

“Don’t make fun of me if I step on your toes.” He nods, and you’re beaming at him, so filled with joy as he leads you to the small floor space of his living room.

This must be a dream, Dan thinks. It has to be, there’s no reality in which he’s got you in his arms, and you’re waltzing around to the music. Neither of you step on one another’s toes, but even if you had, you wouldn’t have minded. It was bliss, being here with you, sheer bliss.

He brings you around and around his living room, twirls you until you’re laughing, until you’re dizzy and pressed up against his chest, stars in your eyes.

“Stay with me tonight.” Dan whispers, officially throwing caution to the wind, rubbing his thumb across your cheek, “I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to go either.” You admit with a whisper right back, and Dan fears he’s going to black out, when you stretch up and close the short distance between your mouths, kissing him gently on the lips.

His arms tighten around you, eyes shutting tightly as he wills himself not to cry. Of all the things that had happened this year, of all the shit he’s had to deal with – this moment makes up for it, for all of it. The kiss is filled with a yearning, a mutual longing that is finally being released after who knows how long.

When he pulls away, your foreheads rest against one another and he’s practically panting, feeling his heart grow three times its size.

“Dan?” You whisper, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Yes?” He hugs you close, tucks your head underneath his chin.

“Merry Christmas.” You hug him back, the both of you swaying to the music as it fades out, knowing that now, when the night is over, nothing will be the same.

But it’ll be for the better, because you’ll be together.

And this song of mine

In three-quarter time

Wishes you and yours

Everyone

Merry Christmas

May your New Year dreams come true.

#daniel jones x reader #daniel jones/reader #daniel jones x you #adam driver character #adam driver fanfiction #the report 2019 #adam drive the report

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

Salty Baby

Chapter two

Authors note- thanks to @official-and-unstable-satan for being my beta. I’ll give you a thank you gift soon enough. No smut today next time i promise. happy reading.

Please do not repost or steal my work. Reblogs are welcome.

Summary- When you moved to New York in hopes of living a glamorous life this isn't what you expected. Steve offers to help you but your pride gets in the way. Pride isn't going to pay your rent and college loans.

Pairing- Steve Rogers x reader

Series warning- smut, sugar daddy/baby themes, angst, salty reader.

Word count- 1.5k

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE

Masterlist

The whole week you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve. You went as far as to research him. He had lived such an interesting, accomplished life so many things. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated.

Steve had texted you the details of the restaurant. When you said your favorite food was pizza he took it upon himself to book a table at a five star Michelin star Italian restaurant. You being an uncultured simpleton said yes without knowing what you were getting yourself into.

You had never been to a fancy restaurant. You didn’t own a single dress. Neither could you afford one right now. There’s no way in hell your sister would let you set foot in her closet let alone borrow a dress.

“Are you coming to the party tomorrow?”, your coworker Alyssa asked. She had perpetually been nosy and annoying. Always oversharing or probing you about your personal life.

“No I have a date”

“Oh wow!”, she exclaimed jumping up and down. “Is it with that tall drink of water who’s totally obsessed with you?”

“Well... yeah”

“What are you going to wear?”, she asked propping herself up on her elbow batting her eyelashes at you.

You sighed deeply. “I don’t have anything to wear.” You considered cancelling just because of that. You didn’t have a lot of free time to date or socialize. But then you have been in New York for over a year and had yet to have a fun night out on the town.

“Well we’re about the same size. How about you borrow a dress of mine? On one condition! You have to tell me literally everything.”

“Why?”, while you weren’t keen on accepting help from her there weren’t many other options.

“Because that’s just what girls do!”

Alyssa set you up with a beautiful red dress that ended just above your knee that showed just a hint of cleavage. ‘To leave something to the imagination' apparently.

She also warned you at least ten times not to put out on the first date. Which you probably weren’t going to anyway. After a few touches of makeup you were good to go.

***

To make sure he doesn’t make a fool out of himself, Steve went to Natasha for some advice on modern dating. She was his only female friend. Probably his only friend.

She convinced him to buy bunch of new clothes and a new haircut. He wasn’t so sure about the new look but from what he had observed he looked quite modern.

“Oh new haircut”, Tony comments on the Steve’s new look when he comes and sits in the conference room in front of him. “You don’t stick out like a sore thumb now”

“Steve has a hot date”, Natasha smirked. “he’s kind of nervous about it”

“There’s no need to be nervous”, Tony drawls out pushing back on his chair. “Women love to talk about themselves. Just ask her about her hopes and dreams. She is a real human woman right?”

“I’m not sure I should be taking advice from you” Neither did he want to discuss his love life before an important meeting. Although he had to agree it was pretty good advice.

“And money. Women like money”, he continued going through his phone

“Don’t listen to Stark’s misogynistic wisdom. Not all girls are after money” Natasha said throwing Tony a glare.

“Yeah he’ll find out for himself soon enough”, he threw back.

Steve knew money played a part in relationships. It provided security. He was grateful about the more than sufficient funds in his bank account. Some from his army back pay and some from working for shield and the Avengers. After the days he had seen during the depression he considered himself very lucky to treat you to an expensive meal or anything else you would like. But at the same time he didn’t want you to be interested in him solely for his money.

He parked the car he borrowed from Tony outside your apartment building. Both him and Natasha had given him long lecture while laughing at him when he said he was going to pick you up on his motorcycle.

When he looked at your red dress he was more than glad that he didn’t bring his motorcycle. He tried to supress the fact that he was so mesmerised by you. He gave you the small bouquet of roses he had bought on his way.

“Wow”, you exclaimed looking at his hair. “It suits you. Can I touch it?”

He couldn’t supress his lovesick grin and shyly nodded his headed. Sighing in content feeling you run your fingers through his shirt hair.

He felt you shifting in your seat on the drive to the restaurant. It somewhat calmed him to know you were just as nervous.

You both took and seats and ordered some food. You were looking around at the decor in awe talking about how beautiful and sophisticated everything is.

He hasn’t been on a date in more than 70 years. He did take your coat but forgot to pull your chair out for you, the hostess beat him to it. In his anxiety he had already knocked down a fork and cringed so hard he was sure you noticed.

He was going picking at his brain to find something to talk about. This was your first date. He had to make a good impression.

“So... what are your dreams?”, not the best start but he could still recover.

You tilted your head at him giving him a small laugh. “Just the normal things, I guess. To have a successful career... to be happy. What are your dreams?”

“I... well I’m not so sure anymore. I used to want the simple typical things. But then I became Captain America...can’t exactly have that now”,

Maybe he shouldn’t have started with something so heavy so early on. When he became Captain America his life didn’t belong to him anymore. That alone would be more than enough to scare you off.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t still want those things”, you said lightly shrugging “Why did you? Become Captain America, I mean you’re great at it. But it must be a huge responsibility” you asked as the server placed your food in front of you and filled your glass with wine.

“I’ve just never liked bullies”, he started as soon as the server left “being Cap gave me a chance to fight them”

“That’s ironic. Considering America is the probably biggest bully in the world”, you said with a humorless laugh.

Glumness settled over his face. He nodded at you. He had hoped that 70 years would bring about positive changes in the world. While things were better than before they weren’t nearly as good as he wanted them to be.

“It’s a good thing though. You and your superhero friends can keep the country and the world in check”, you said giving him a cheeky smile stuffing the pasta in your mouth. He returned your smile digging into his food.

As the conversation flowed he found himself relaxing and settling down. It didn’t feel like he had only known you for two weeks, not from how comfortable he felt with you. Talking to you. Holding your hand for a few seconds here and there.

After dessert he drove you back to your home. Walking you to your doorstep something caught his eye at the many mailboxes that aligned the wall.

You looked at the mailbox he was staring at. “That’s my Anna’s married name” You looked back at him. “My sister”, you continued still staring at his confused face.

He gave you a small nod “I work with someone called Rumlow”

“Probably a coincidence”

“Yeah. Thanks for keeping me company tonight doll” As much as he didn’t want the night to end. He had to leave just so he could see you again. Preferably sooner rather than later.

“Doll?”, you asked frowning

“You don’t like it?”, he asked nervously. He still wasn’t sure what was considered appropriate. Everyone told him different things.

“I... well I like my name”, you averted your gaze looking at the tiles on the floor. “Thank you so much for today though. I had fun. Can we do it again?”

“Yes!” He gushed instantly “When are you free I’ll call you or text you?”

You nodded at him playing with the buttons on his shirt before slowly stroking the lapel of his blazer looking up at him with a pout.

Steve maybe clueless when it comes to women but he wasn’t an idiot. He took the hint leaning down to meet you in the middle as you stood on your tippy toes. He lightly pressed his lips to yours.

He had planned to keep it chaste and modest, he was a gentleman after all, but then you slipped your tongue into his mouth and threw your arms around his neck pulling closer to you. There was no holding back now. He slid his hands to your waist and hoisted you off the the ground. Up in the air a few inches to match his heights.

You smiled into the kiss. Stifling your giggle so you didn’t have to break the kiss. Feeling completely pampered and spoiled. He put you down on the ground putting his hands in pockets of his dress or he’d to tempted to steal another kiss.

“Good night” You breathed out after a couple of moments of just staring at each other.

“Good night” He almost called you doll again but stopped himself. Choosing to just say your name. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, he couldn’t help it. And left. Already excited to see you again as soon as possible.

#steve x reader #steve x you #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america x female reader #steve rogers #captain america #salty baby #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers series #steve rogers x reader

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blankdblank · 3 years

Text

Hobbit Soulmate Pt 43

4.28 million, check in hand Richard was on his way to the bank and certain of what to do the cash was split, deposited with the rest used to pay off the remainder of the funds owed on the new home. A small portion and mostly repaid soon enough by the funds wired to his account from the couple who bought his old home. All those memories of Tiffany and years alone struggling between parts now replaced by hope imbued into the walls of the new home that you would build a family inside of. No matter how the year was split between your homes and trips to the ranch he knew your children would not want for any affections or adoration and soon have a cousin to one day play with.

He had to be careful though as daydreams would often lead to his smiling return from work already hearing echoes of the future babies rushing to greet him while you hummed making some intriguing mixture for the meal you and your youngest still propped on your hip we’re whipping up one handed for him. Daydreams were always bittersweet but precious all the same while he felt lighter than he had in decades. He wanted to be there for your show, knowing how hard Chicago had been on you, yet thankfully before Kong this was just a single show that he would be able to purchase a copy of to keep and watch at his leisure, one day with those same one day to not be imaginary babies.

They would beam with pride seeing how he adored you and the success and strength you had in just your little finger using your resolute love as their example. So very much how he saw his own parents, a love he’d never dreamed capable of possessing and passing down to his babies. You would get there, if not for the patience of the ficklest of mistresses, time. For now he had his dreams of you, one in particular of the first night you would share in his bed inside your new bedroom. One he’d share with only you upon your arrival. Not even a diary he’d entrust with the sweetest of murmurs he’d trace through your hair while you slept. Secured by the gentlest of kisses to your cheek and temple until they were broken by that beloved groggy smirk and turn over to foil the last half of his ocean of endearments and proclamations of his undying love he’d yet to bestow upon you.

Sharp and loud a shriek had left your lips and behind the door you’d just closed the delivery man turned around and knocked on your door again, “You okay Miss?”

Opening the door you smiled hastily replying, “Yes, sorry. News from work.”

“You’re not laid off are you?” He asked on a pained tone.

“No, paycheck I’ve been waiting on.”

“Oh that’s a relief,” he sighed out, “Been the bearer of bad news all week.” Retreating again to head back down to his waiting car.

Your neighbor opened the door poking his head out with spoon in mouth from his bowl of cereal making you say, “Sorry, paycheck.”

With his mouth half full he replied, “Oh that’s good, got a child support summons last week myself. Don’t know who Charles A. Sullivan is but he owes 67 grand in back child support.” Inside he went to your chuckle filled mutual retreat back to your apartments.

From his own doorway your dad leaned out smirking as you anxiously smiled waving the pages, “Got paid,”

Out he stepped to accept the papers he knew you were going to try to give him and his eyes flinched wider seeing the figure on the page. “This says 4.28, million, dollars.” His eyes flinched up to yours again, “This is from Bard?”

You nodded, “That’s my cut of the box office. Yours is behind mine.”

He turned the page and exhaled having to sit on the stool behind him eyeing the $3 million check he’d gotten from his smaller albeit hefty percentage as one of the main stars of the film not expected to do much as far as earnings went. “I have, I can’t have this much money, I had, what, five lines.”

You shrugged saying, “They didn’t expect much or we might not have gotten that much. Now you can retire,” you squeaked out anxiously still trying to remain calm leaning back against the wall across from him half in the kitchen you’d been prepping breakfast before the fated knock.

Curtly he chortled and rumbled back, “Damn right I could.” Long and slow he let out a breath saying, “I certainly could.” Quietly you got back to making the meal that you shared and then made another trip to the bank. The same tellers were much happier to see you both again, a moment the manager there was a bit taken aback by the amount on the checks from the same film company from before. A fact that stirred up a conversation between them in your leaving on how actors might actually get paid after you’d shared most of your roles didn’t pay till they were out of theaters and it could be a huge gap between filming and its release. All of which making them a bit more grateful for their stable paychecks and slightly dull jobs to being big movie stars.

It was beyond odd to be heading back to ballet rehearsals. With hair wound back in a braided curl happy bun at the loss of half of your bobby pins somehow and in a halter style leotard underneath knee length sweats you pulled a flannel and your leather jacket on over it shouldering your bag to head out for your unusual trip to the elite ballet company. Mingled through the crowds quite easily the trip was managed and all the way up to and inside the front doors you held your cool facade. But once those doors shut the aloof grin on your face stiffened to a stoic expression under the weight of the many staring eyes in the building of Grecian statues of men and waifs galore with feet stuck awkwardly out like geese in between. All whom watched your tiny out of place self strolling right through the gaps between their groups to follow the directions your Professor had given you.

From the lift however the mood didn’t change. And right at home you found your way into the designated room strolling right to the wall of cubbies. There jacket, flannel and converse were folded inside with socks next rolled up containing your subtly removed engagement ring that you shoved inside your bag’s hidden inner pocket you’d added yourself for all your expensive things in case someone got nosy while you worked. Your new ballet slippers were pulled out and once the bag was added to the stack in the cubby to the bars you went to pretend you had to already been warming up at home to keep your mind distracted until the others arrived.

They certainly weren’t yelling. But when the crowds did start to arrive the Director commented and watched while you chatted with five of your former dance classmates from Julliard and one from Oxford. Back at the bars to fill the main ballet cast around the mainly vocal and acting supporting cast members in the sea of silently stretching and gossiping extras waiting to hear their first assigned steps for the opening number. You could all hear one say, “I can’t believe she permed her hair before coming here. I’m gonna make that girl sweat out those curls.”

The bile in their voice caught by more than just you and turned more than half of the heads in the room of dancers, mainly those of the dancers of color, who took up at least half of the cast with similar curly hair or even tighter curls than yours, to see which Director to avoid speaking to unless necessary. Behind him however Mr Tarl strolled past him saying, “Good luck with that those are her natural curls dickhead.”

Into the room he came while the Director scoffed and said he’d be back later leaving his partner that was wide eyed catching all the cast glaring at the leaving man’s back. “Alrighty, I see we’re all here so let’s get right into it.” He said and waved you forward, “Ariel and Flounder.” Nodding in your pop up onto your feet across the room you hurried to the young teen’s side to hear your intro while those playing your on stage relatives and Sebastian gathered next to hear theirs mingled with the majority of extras. The male cast around Prince Eric on the ship would open the show, however markers for the transition had to be gives first before you were moved aside to watch them and wait, you would blend in on the background and then fade out of the floor to the side to wait again. Ariel’s sisters and Sebastian would come next before you would come again with Flounder and Scuttle.

While some might have worried you got the least attention it was clearly shown to not be needed as you took right away to what he seemed to want going through the day with little alterations from the first try of the steps. Something the pair of Directors were floored by and took notice of your classmates that seemed to have a knack for that as well having been so used to his style of teaching. For waves most of the ballet would be those leaping with ribbons with ebbs and flows in deep sways and off kilter moves added by the ship crew who would rock to the imagined shift of the fake boat they were on between leaps from mark to mark for their roles in ship tasks. A tape playing of the music helped to give hints to the songs you had all been given copies of days prior gave a simple idea of the flow of the show you were not singing just yet to rest your voices until the vocal rehearsals.

It wasn’t that hard of a set of steps. Even to the tap dancing number you had with the seagulls after being turned human. However the struggle came from what restrictions the costumes would give at having to do a lot of upper body movements and smooth arches with your joined legs in the ample lifts and team work steps around later what would include sections that you would be suspended by long blue ribbons of cloth to get the proper effects. Every other day the dance rehearsals would have you in vocal rehearsals while the extras would have theirs today and every day between yours.

One week bled into two and with the newer musical version of the film meant for Broadway the show took on a new life and proved to be easier than first described to you. The most free beginning with the transformation scene when your tail would be removed and the dancers circling you with colored cloths for the magic spell. They would give cover for the hand off of a sort of toga dress Sebastian would help tie the back up for you to hide the leotard the loose wrinkled fabric would be stitched to that would be eased over your mostly sheer top leotard with fake shells to cover your breasts that secured around the neck. They would carry off your tail skirt in their prance away leaving you in the faked moment of struggle to gain control of your new legs. Trailed by two steps and a collapse to be hoisted up by Flounder and Sebastian to get you onto the staircase to be brought in later acting as the path to the surface of the water.

Nights found you soaking your feet and eating what you could before early trips to bed to get some sleep to be ready for the cameras that the documentary team hired to film this could easily pick up on any hint of troubles you were having.

This wasn’t the first time your grandparents would have come to New York but this was big. You had paid 1.25 million into your house and had the other quarter left to drop when you were done with your apartment and around the breakfast table on the Saturday before the big show you had to mentally work out the times today all your appliances were coming you’d picked out three days prior. Washer, dryer and several fridges were coming and while you continued to paint the final upper floor walls their base color down to Lee’s walls he’d bought the shades he wanted leaving the cans inside the basement until you got through the rest of the house to help him paint there liking your skills at house painting.

All tasks helping to distract you from the tabloid fodder. You were the main topic, how well or terribly you were supposedly doing with assumed weight fluctuations from a so called terrible diet as if you weren’t taking full care to remain well fed and weren’t restricting yourself so for the normal body type for the stage. Someone else might have snapped and turned their heads in the store to read those titles alone but you never did ignoring any and everything except for an adorable magazine on puppies to help your dad pick a breed for the dog he’d wanted to get options on. Money always came next and with it came the topic of how much you were making the show was quick to shut down saying that everyone was volunteering their time for free and that was where it shifted for the start of the second week.

Drastically headlines seemed to shift to that news that broke while you were snapped in pictures through your open uncovered windows carrying more supplies up the stairs to head to the third floor where while the top floor walls dried you wanted to get started on the murals on the walls of the nursery. Patches of sorts like off a quilt to be lined with frames of stars and compasses and tiny treasure pathways and x’s were signature scenes from the children’s story to be painted in later while your dad and Lee got started painting his basement until the break for lunch when you would join them again.

Lunch was brought by the Landlord who smiled taking a tour seeing how it was all tying together, and gladly taking the task of guiding the delivery men down to the basement to install one fridge, stove, dishwasher and the washer and dryer so you could eat. Fridge oven and dishwasher were next for the main floor with two fridges and ovens heading up to the higher floors stirring curiosity to the cameramen below as to how many kitchens you were planning on having. All of this attention however seemed to only attract more as by Tuesday you had offers from several house renovation centered magazines requesting the first tour of the place when you had completed it.

“Thank you so much,” you said handing over the clipboard with sighed delivery sheet once all was installed properly from the now empty truck.

“Hell of a place you got here Miss Pear. Been a real pleasure to get a peek inside.”

Making you smirk at the head guys’s turn to join his crew back inside the truck to head back to the shop. “Thank you.”

Lee behind you smirked asking, “So, appliances, utilities and half of our stuff, um, what were we waiting on to move in again?”

To which your dad added, “Cable’s installed tomorrow along with the internet and home phone.”

Lee, “Plus cable tomorrow.”

Rolling your eyes you turned around saying, “Just hire the truck and crew to help move.”

“Yes!” Lee said turning to high five your widely smiling dad on the way back inside to get painting his apartment again.

“Guess you can buy that big screen too dad.” You said as the doors shut behind you.

“Already did, arriving tomorrow. Along with yours and Lee’s.” Earning a squeaking hug from the lanky body crashing into him out of excitement while you giggled at his proud smile for holding back more surprise gifts he’d planned weeks prior. Saving his hug for later when you could head to bed again dozing off next to him while he watched the shows playing on your staticky rabbit ear using tv for a sort of going away party for this place you never even got the chance to choose to move into in the first place.

Lost to thoughts on why should you really get the chance to pick when you wanted to move out you turned around to head inside. One more day of packing and hoisting everything up and down more flights of steps and that would be it. You could turn in the keys and pay off the brownstone to keep your word and Rich could mail his copy of the keys later. Very soon you’d have to go to sleep in a still halfway done home of your own and all you selfishly wanted was Richard to be done fake loving other women in England to be here and hoist you up in his arms for an oh so stereotypical picture of his carrying you over the threshold.

You supposed that could wait for the England home, this would just be yours for now and you could tolerate how badly you wanted to cry at the weight of it all while the duo moving in with you were oh so happy for this new beginning. Two huge checks and this tiny break once this show was over could be used to mull over whatever this slump would turn out to be to ready for that freeing sight of New Zealand that brought with it a whole new weight, another blockbuster smasher of a film with your face in the front of the poster right next to a giant ape.

You could do this, you kept repeating it over and over all while it felt like swallowing glass and coughing it up again into the shapes of chains of flowers at how somehow you still felt helpless and alone. You found out soon enough these thoughts were just a mental warning flag from your body something was coming as your stomach seemed to clench all of a sudden and you were off to the adorable guest bath under the stairs to hurl up everything you ate. Fever followed within moments and your dad was tucking you up in his arms to start the end of your night inside the ER. The Landlord took on the task of locking up swearing he’d take charge of helping Lee finish up his floor while you were being taken care of.

Your dad couldn’t care less about the show, merely wanting you to be better again, holding strong to ensure you weren’t going to be looked over and sent home without an answer. It was just a fever and nausea to them at first glance but something about this stirred up memories of his losing your mom like every time you had a fever before.

It wasn’t your appendix and you weren’t dehydrated and once laid flat didn’t feel the urge to throw up anymore. A blood pregnancy test came back negative in the time they waited for a body scan that showed you had an ovarian cyst that burst. You knew it was there, the lone little parasite now spontaneously exploded in its own little reaction to your internal turmoil no doubt as all you’d done was sign a clipboard and try to walk back to your basement apartment. Just in case ectopic pregnancy was ruled out.

And to the cameras outside you came walking out a few hours later just in time to get a warm hug from Lee while sharing what happened and how you were fine, if not a tad bit sore and amply tired and ready for bed. Once the house was all locked up again back to the apartment you walked where your dad to carry you up to yours seeing your energy had dwindled again fully at ease with making supper then curling around you all night. And on into the morning for a decided easy day of you gently helping Lee to finish painting while your dad handled the crew of delivery guys and the second that installed the cable throughout the house to the four floors set for it that mingled with their apparent friends from the internet and phone crew.

There would be a mounted phone in the kitchen with a voicemail attachment to go with two table top phones for your dad’s and in your private living room as your bedroom didn’t have the right outlet for it and Richard’s study would be his sanctuary and the ring might bother his thought process. To go with that the second outlet there would be used for where your laptop could sit that your dad could help to move your desk from your bedroom later. Each phone now with the number written on a slip under the clear slot under the receiver for the speed dial card mainly empty you could add to later.

The sick day, for your relief, pushed back the move day to have you at your peak past the show date. The next night to be exact, which Lee was readying for by boxing his stuff up already and focusing on small trips to the shop to pick out some spare small essentials he might want to decorate his new place he went ahead and left there using his key he smiled brightly every time he used it. Richard along with friends and family who called were calmed down leaving the latter to hope that this lost cyst might ease your monthly troubles in the future since its arrival and lone decision to make said monthly cycles dreadful for you.

Sunday passed however and Monday came again, to everyone once again staring all the way up to where you found Mr Tarl and Mr Combs who both asked, “Are you alright?”

“Ya, ovarian cyst burst. Doctor cleared me. I’ve stretched and danced a bit over yesterday doesn’t hurt till I try to get into a handstand for a cartwheel other than that I’m good.”

Mr Combs chuckled at your try to make them relax and said, “Just let us know if you need a break at any time.”

“Thank you.”

Over to your friends once you’d filled your cubby you walked saying, “Oh stop, had to drop in for my yearly hoof and horns maintenance.” Luring chuckles and grins from those around you who in school knew of a nickname from an instructor who called you a goat in your first week assuming limits on your skills who you proved wrong right away. “All good and polished now for the big show.”

“Did I push too hard on moving into the new place?” Lee asked you on your way up from just getting back again after the practice.

Turning your head you spotted him by the mailboxes answering, “Are you, is this about my cyst?”

“I’ve been pushing too hard. We’ve been painting non stop, appliance hunting in those warehouses and you’re trying to do the show and your grandparents are coming soon.”

“Lee,” you giggled out, “You didn’t make my cyst burst as much as I’ve been behind your appendix throwing its own tantrum.”

That had his grin easing out, “You’re sure this isn’t too fast?” he asked walking with you up the steps, “I mean you moved here on your own now I feel like I’m nudging you out of your bigger place.”

“I didn’t move in here.” You said making him pause and you looked up at him, “You remember? I went to Oxford and when I got back my things were moved into the bigger place that Mrs Henderson was moved out of. I want to move, it’s a fantastic place, but I wanted to be a bit selfish for at least a couple days with my daydreams.”

“Daydreams on what?”

“Call me selfish but I wanted to buy it and fix it up with Rich here too and to have him here for that first night in, but he won’t even see the place until October at the latest. Even my grandparents are going to see it before he does. I want to move in, it just, feels a bit, big. It’s a freaking house, five floors and I don’t even have a vacuum.”

That had him chuckle and move in to claim a calming hug from you, murmuring in a press of his cheek onto the top of your head, “We’ll go vacuum shopping tomorrow if you like.”

“I don’t even know what to look for in a vacuum.”

Pulling back he said resting his arm across your back, “Come on, let’s go see if your dad can answer that question. And if it makes you feel better you can carry me over the threshold.” That had you giggle through his own chuckle.

First fittings were today post dance practice before your vocal practice. Again just the dance had you close to wiped out and once the fitting was over at the vocal training you took up the offer of one of the wheeled stools to rest up some from the lingering discomfort you were feeling. Truly it wasn’t very painful compared to the exhausting rehearsals that now on top of this was tearing the wind from your sails but growing more tolerable with the end goal in sight. Added to the supplies a vacuum was brought to your new place and cross legged on the couch from Canada in your living room you sat having assembled said appliance watching the show your dad switched on for you seeing how tired you were.

There was just a little bit of work to be done to Lee’s apartment they assured you they could handle while you rested, both knowing you’d most likely nod off under the blanket he had laid across it after it was moved in. And sure enough when they broke for a meal they found you stretched out underneath that blanket lost in a deep much needed nap. And gently the hand smoothing over your back woke you helped you to be draped around your dad’s back for the walk to your apartment where the dinner in the crock pot was waiting for the three of you. Lee had seen you tired and nodding off before but this was something different and slowly he began to see just how rough this health speed bump had slammed you into the ground. At least you were bouncing back, that gave him some form of comfort while he watched you slip back to your usual self just in time for the big day.

Wednesday was the first try on the actual stage and Thursday Lee and your dad both stole two of the seats in the crowd of relatives of the other cast mates to see what you had pulled together in such a short time. The pair again awed by another impressive show you had chosen to be a part of. The same seats that the following day they both smiled seeing your Grandparents coming to join them once spotted with creeping grins at the intriguing take on the popular tale. Like always their presence was not missed. Proved by more than one dancer among the extras who perked up hoping to make a good impression all through to the end of the work day when you smiled.

An adjustment of a twist was given to your engagement ring that was freshly added again on your way from the locker room that enabled you to change from your leotard and sweats to a t shirt and shorts spotting your grandparents waiting there for you.

“Babushka, Babu.”

The pair of them both gave you tight hugs and your grandpa said gladly in Russian, “We missed you, precious Bubble.”

She asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Much better now, back to myself again.”

She asked, “And there were no more cysts?”

“No, just the one and I have an appointment when I get back from New Zealand to get scanned again to see if another grows or if it was just a one off.”

Your Grandpa asked, “Time to feed you.”

That had you smile and say, “I thought I might show you something first if you’re up for it.”

Your Grandma answered, “As long as we can take you to eat afterwards have to get your strength back up.”

Your dad smiled saying, “We could always order something when we get there.”

Grandpa looked between you asking in your turn to lad the way out, “There is food there?”

“Oh I think you’ll love it when you see it.” His question died however to his creeping grin at your arm looping under his and all the way from climbing into the car their driver opened for you to the address it pulled up on you could see their minds working to find out where you were taking them. The pair spoke to your dad while Lee listened to a message from one of the actors in his own play whose call he’d missed. The stop outside the brownstone however had them utterly baffled in the slide out of the car to join you on the curb. Your words however seemed to make it click for them, “I told you about that place I was looking at?”

That turned their heads and her lips parted taking in the whole building you gestured to, “This is the place?”

You nodded and asked, “Wanna see?” Their heads nodded and you giggled turning to show them inside. Once again your dad explained the outer gate on the stoop they approved of for spare security to the mudroom you left your bag inside of on the built in bench along the wall granting them a moment to prepare before you opened the front door and the full tour really began.

From the reading hideaway that turned out to be a bit awkward looking until you’d unpacked your books you’d bought in Canada filling a shelf at least gave a hint to one day being loaded with books that even they could adore the idea of for you. The half covered windows they mainly loved as, just like in your tour, still cast the place in a gorgeous glow, passing the steps to the living room you pointed to your chandelier saying, “Liv Tyler gifted me this chandelier, the old tenant hung stuff on his and it left this huge crater in the floor when it fell. And this place has these great beam arches and some of them are used for these half walls,” you said leading them into the living room where they admired everything from the carpet to the intricate fireplace their fingertips stroked along on their way to admire the milky glass you had talked about.

Grandpa, “Interesting furniture arrangement.” Taking notice of the couch still in the center of the room with the tv out a good distance from the wall as well.

Grandma, “And, is this eggshell for the walls?”

“Oh, that’s just the primer coat,” earning nods from them. “We’ve only painted the basement the colors Lee wanted yet, everywhere else had patchy drywall and needed the basecoat before we could paint whatever color we eventually decide on. I was thinking an indigo or navy for here, then go lighter on the way back.”

Grandpa, “That would be lovely.”

“Yes, we just have our things from Canada here so far, the rest is gonna be moved day after tomorrow, got a crew helping us and everything with the truck. It looks so much better in here with the new flooring in. Had huge gouges and welts in the floor where he’d smashed holes in the tiles and walls had been torn out, but I think I picked well on tiles and such and Rich loved the idea for the carpet shade.”

Onwards into the dining room you led them exciting them even more as your dad said, “Used to be two small rooms here we tore the walls out of to make this space bigger, adds another guest bath down here, and the kitchen was just laughable. Had to be ten by ten, if that with no dining room.”

“They tore the cabinets out and smashed the countertops too, but I got them to build me this really cool island, and there’s the bathroom tucked back here,” you said with a smile. Leading them from the bath hidden partly by the ends of the built ins and the half wall for a puzzling empty space now explained as a mini hall. From the cute bathroom they admired the silver and blue color scheme they followed you to the spacious pantry through the door in the middle of the built ins and out again to get a better look at the kitchen. “Brand new tile counters, good for heat and easy scrubbing, plus easy to repair if one does ever break.”

Grandma, “Very beautiful. Counter damage can be a nightmare.”

Your Grandpa led the way to the newly tiled sunroom, “You have a yard?”

“Little one, bout 30, 40 feet by 25.” you said in the way out onto the patio for a less than awe striking scrap of green spreading through the upturned tiled courtyard. “Haven’t decided on how to work the yard yet, but we were thinking of pulling back the tile for more grass space when we do have the courtyard redone.”

Grandpa, “You could have a nice garden here, and that is a nice tree, rather small.”

Your dad said, “I don’t think it’s very old, but it should grow over time. L said it flowers in the spring, so should be pretty, nice purple-ish ones.” Joining them on the walk back in where she led the way to the hall to the basement making Lee grin and follow along to give the tour of his impressive apartment he’d be renting before their trip back up to see more.

The bath under the stairs had them smiling for what hint of a theme you might be trying to match up to it for the rest of the place and up you went. A bed frame and mattress had been set up for your dad’s room you’d painted his decided color so he wouldn’t have to move the bed again and from the office to the guest room. There they paused to inspect the beds you had designed. Four Queen sized beds with one simple tug revealing in sliding drawers under the bottom one two spare twin sized slots for two more guests if need be surrounded by two rows of cubbies and shelves to fill the gaps to the ends of the walls had your grandfather asking, “Did you have these specially built? Or did they come with the house?”

“I designed them, actually.” You said in a hint of a bashful tone to their creeping smiles at seeing a glimmer of that engineering degree of yours coming to some use in all this construction making them wonder which other pieces you had come up with reminding them of your ingenious island downstairs they had admired for all its features. Along with several tiny features un-thought of to increase storage space where little more could be squeezed out.

Grandmother, “Impressive. This design could put many double beds sold now to shame.”

Your dad said leading the way out of the room, “Got another set upstairs. Wanted to get them in while the flooring and shelf units were going in to not piss off the neighbors more than necessary. Whole crew was amazed by her design and how precise her measurements came down to a simple photo copy onto a blueprint for the build.”

And onto the living space they had to admire how much space you were granting your father. An action they took as one of great respect for him almost drawing tears to their eyes. They knew how much you loved him and in this western culture that seemed at times to abandon their elders you shown a blatant disregard for that norm and even had granted your best friend a safe home as well in your free space too.

Up again they went to the more bland floor with just the interesting layout and curved wall shapes. “The second set of beds is in here.” Up until they reached the book nook that you led them past almost making them sigh at having to see another guest room. “And this one was clearly my favorite and gave me the best idea when I first saw it.”

Straight through the bathroom and into the closet you walked exiting the open sliding doors for their jaw dropping view of the framed sketch coated walls above the few built in shelves and benches under the wall near the window and the chandelier above a few rolled up rugs and a toy chest you’d found in a second hand shop. Your Grandma asked, “This looks like a children’s room, is it?” Looking straight at you now.

“We are planning ahead, no babies yet, obviously, but we did agree it’d be best to at least know where we wanted to put them when they do come. All reminding them of the wishes of their daughter on a pirate themed nursery of her own one day. “Mom had some Peter Pan sketches for me, so I have these mural sketches I’m gonna fill in in a few days and I was thinking a silvery blue for the walls. And I found this really cool pirate ship chandelier.”

The pair simply hugged you widening your grin in their silent moment of utter glee knowing babies had been planned for and they would one day see their great grandbabies both in person and pictured inside this nursery. “It is beautiful,” they said releasing you again before asking, “Where will you sleep?”

“Top floor.” Continuing the tour to the stairs for another stunning open floor plan. All the open spaces were looked at with a pause in the study you said, “I thought Rich might like this, so he can keep his work research here and have his own deflating spot after roles to pace or do whatever in to get into a character.”

Grandma looked at you, “He is very serious then in his craft.”

“Yes,” you said with a smile, “He might have to play death destined whores often for tv bits right now but one day he’ll get a role he can really sink his teeth into. He’s much more intense on stage. Ooh, like North and South when it comes out, he played it so well. I think next spring, ish, it’ll be out on BBC. I’ll warn you.”

Onto the bedroom and master suite and closet you showed them deepening their smiles spotting the boxes on the seemingly new mattress there beside the bed frame kit yet to be put together. Both taking in the odd wave to one wall on the other side of the staircase that limited where you could put your bed. “This wall is kind of odd but I think maybe a chair or something could go here, for night reading or something. And I was thinking maybe plum and grey for in here. Rich likes that scheme from my apartment now.”

“And you are moving in fully after the show, how much is this house?”

“1.5 million,” gaining a plotting nod from the pair on means of shifting funds your way if necessary.

She asked, “This seems large. We have looked at realtor listings here before. Is this large for this part of town?”

You nodded, “25 by 60 feet. 1500 roughly a floor for 7500. Huge compared to what I’d have ever dreamed to land. But L and Dad have been plotting a while. Which is good most spots on this block are closer to 3 million or even higher but it was so trashed we got a good deal, put one and a quarter into it so far not counting renovations, and have agreed to pay off the final quarter when I turn over the apartment.”

“I’m so proud of you,” she said instantly deepening your anxious grin to a pleased one, “This is an incredible home to begin in. Richard approves?”

“Yes, he’s only seen it in pictures but he helped to pick the first try for colors while he came to stay in Canada when I went back. So we’ve sort of worked on it together. I also have pictures of the new place he got in England, his brother moved and he wanted to be closer to his parents and since I graduated I don’t need to be so close to Oxford. I could just take the train if need be. He even picked a kids room there we said we could mirror the one here to sort of give them a sense of familiarity for when we bound around until we settle.”

Grandpa, “Great plan. Always useful to have an anchor for babies.”

“So where did you want to eat?” You asked and they smiled all the way back to the stairs where your grandmother paused eyeing the door on the side of the half walls around the stairs topped with milky glass panes. She eased it open and you said, “We have those at the ranch in Texas, barn door to keep kids off the stairs.”

That parted her lips as you showed her that it closed with a knob up top locking the door into the walls for a secure guard against baby tumbles. Your Gramps said, “I did not even notice this.”

“Five floors wanted to make sure we get these in with the other builds so they wouldn’t go forgotten. Plus the plastic ones they sell can give out, these are in the walls and mounted on the rails top and bottom.”

She eased the door back open again flat against the wall and walked with you now sharing second glances at each flight noticing the secure doors that doubled the safety of the unborn grandbabies you would be raising at least partly here. All the way down to the car feeling so much more at ease over what sort of home you might have chosen to claim for yourself out here and what that meant for your future.

They had chosen a hotel to stay in and while you savored your last night in your tiny bubble the inevitable morning crept closer and groggily you woke and readied yourself for the day. Though this time with fiery red hair that after a trip back to the salon the Queens had helped you with some fiery red hair dye that would wash out over the next few weeks in time for your trip back to bleach yourself blonde. Heading out in exactly the shorts and shirt your hand first fell onto once you’d eaten to start the final fitting and makeup process for the set pictures with the cast. Again your hair was straightened out by the amazed makeup crew that was glad to not have to use the assumed twelve cans of temporary hair dye that now could be scattered throughout the cast of extras that were eating up more than expected. Just a few extensions were added by means of a few stitches into the braids they were woven into around the bottom half of the back of your head that in case your curls did come out again the length wouldn’t be too noticeably changed. It was another bold look for yourself taking the others aback each time they spotted you adding this to your portfolio of identities you had assumed.

A speech was eventually given and soon enough from a place readied behind the lowered curtain for the first scene to your cast bows the spectacle was through and you could now wade through the night of flashes and press that had come to speak to each of the dancers to fill in the picture to flood the papers with. It was a stunning haul for the charity and partly in thanks to the deep pocket names yours had brought in. Losing you from the roster lured some investors from London. All who had personally flown here to add to the donation tin to spite the company that spurned you with promises to return praising your performance to build up more steam in the disc sales when they were available.

All in all you were glad to have taken the role for charity and once the extensions were removed, you’d washed the hairspray out of your hair and sat comfortably in your boxed up apartment a grin slid across your face in the mental goodbye to your trusty apartment that had seen so much of your dramatic little blip here.

One more night was taken on your old soon to be guest bed until the bright and early joint hour long unloading process of taking all you’d managed to get up to your place down to the truck to join Lee’s scattered boxes and desk he had. The guys locked up the truck and with a tight hug to your former landlord and new neighbor the keys were traded along with the final check and he chuckled letting you be on your way to the brownstone you beat the truck to.

Obviously used to the hefting of furniture up and down stairs the crew mentally planned each piece out and while you guided the furniture up to where it was going while holding boxes of your own your dad and Lee both handled the rest of the boxes. Word soon got around and the moving van had curious people peering in the open truck with a bit of disappointment not seeing anything fancier than some old furniture and boxes to go with the new appliances and tv’s you’d been photographed in accepting the delivery of. Yet the truck was soon emptied and the pleased team handed out handshakes accepting the cash you paid with. Pleased you had helped to streamline the process with a plan of your own making this one of the simplest moves they had done in this area with others they recounted for each other on the stroll back to the truck now locked up again. Moving the boxes though was half the battle, leaving the curb inside you went and got to unpacking.

First in your kitchen you unpacked your supply of dishes from the apartment having already put your supply from Canada in the kitchen on your floor, leaving your bedroom for later knowing you’d no doubt cry when you got there. Everything was in the middle of the rooms easing things even more for the crew who were told you would be painting more to explain it. But all your dishes and appliances you assigned new homes to joined the food in bags you unloaded into the fridge and pantry. Away from the table you moved the chairs extending the middle portion of it to scoot the chairs back readying the place for guests in the future.

The soaps and cleaning supplies you had were next, with the bottle of detergent taken down by Lee to the laundry room on his way to unpack his things while your dad was already on his way up to his own floor. Hefty and left in the middle of the reading room now housing your armchair from your apartment the boxes of books were next. With each empty box forming a pile you’d move to the garage for use later and in a make shift system more of the shelves were filled and the sight warmed your heart at their having a home now not just lying on the floor like before.

Up to Richard’s study you went, passing each guest bath you had decorated with small touches to make them usable to guests in the future, to unload the box of books and journals he’d left in New York either by design or chance and then gave in and went to your room. Along with your violin case the boxes from your closet along with the two bags you now traveled with were unloaded with the few shirts Richard had left with you, each you gave a quick hug to and settled on the shoe cubby and underwear drawer comprised island in the center of the room to be cuddled up in later. Stealing a once over in your way out all your things around the bed including your aquarium lamp you’d have to find the right home for later on.

Shaking off the vast space for just you down the steps again you went to pull together the first lunch in the place that would kick off the next round of painting. Again once you’d rinsed the dishes now added to the washer the windows were opened as the navy paint was opened and on the tarped living room floor brushes were grabbed to begin the final touches to this floor. Room by room the colors wanted were added breathing life into the place. Subtle shades of crème were used in the undecided space to not have white walls that just the base coat alone stood out too boldly against the navy you’d chosen that was matched by a single strip of bare wall inside your reading hideaway to go with the brilliant cherry wood shelving.

Dinner broke the painting and while the floor aired out you ate watching a film on your dad’s floor planning the next steps for the following day for him and you while Lee had some plans with a friend coming back to town.

“So when is trash day again?”

“Wednesday,” your dad answered. “The bins are in the garage, they pick up on that middle street.”

“I will remember that.” You said wetting your lips to add, “Ok before we get settled for night one, let’s have an honor code for toilet paper in the guest toilets.”

Lee, “Why are you looking at me?”

“You’re across from me, anyways I have the smallest bladder but if we see it’s running low in the guest baths we get a new roll for it even if we have to buy a new pack for the pantry.”

Lee nods, “I’m good with that. Speaking of bladder,” he said popping up to use your dad’s bathroom after a consenting point and nod exchange between him and your dad.

Once alone your dad smirks humming out, “I give him a week before he’s stealing toilet paper and towels from the guest bathrooms.”

You smirked replying, “Oh now, he’s got his show he’s rehearsing for, clearly he’ll be using theirs too. I give him two.”

“Might as well buy twelve packs for each bathroom with the rest of the supplies.” Making the both of you chuckle to yourselves finishing your meal with Lee once he’d returned. Once the food was gone your floor was tackled.

With your room a lovely plum color on two of the walls and the wall leading to the bathroom around the fireplace and the wavy wall were painted a lovely dark grey that while wet almost looked black but dried in a softer tone. The grey already was in your closet that proved as a test of the shockingly dark shade you were glad to duplicate in the bedroom. Midnight blue was used between the built ins for Richard’s study to make the wood pop as the accents that along with the light from the window helped to keep it from seeming too dark for him to be able to feel comfortable to work there. Dark teal was your alternative shade that from the mint accents in your kitchen colored your living room to finish off the colorful floor that with the left over white walls on the walls outside your bedroom and the study painted crème to help separate the different areas.

Pt 44

#Richard Armitage x Reader OC #Lee Pace x Reader OC #Moving In #Tour of Grandparents #The Little Mermaid Musical Ballet Charity Show #Rehearsals #Filming #Hospital Trip #Medical Issue #Recovery #Work Through The Pain #Grandparents Visit #Home Improvements Shown Off #Painting

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