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cyberslvts · 9 months

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SWEET TALKER || w.maximoff

Summary: In the bustling city of New York, two ambitious entrepreneurs, Wanda Maximoff and Y/n L/N, have been fierce competitors in the industry of mechanical engineering. You and Wanda have been at each others throats fighting for the top spot. However, Your opinions on the Scarlet woman change after she approaches you one night with a business proposal.

Warnings: 18+ rivals to lovers, office romance, angst, smut, teasing, oral (r recieving), fingering (r recieving), marking/biting, little twist at the end (i love drama). Wrote this on my flight to Hawaii (teehee)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

WC: 6.1k

Part 2 | Part 3

The names Y/n L/n and Wanda Maximoff had become synonymous with power and dominance in the bustling streets of New York City.

Y/n L/n was the heir to the L/n family empire, a legacy that had its origins in the late 1950s. Back then, L/n technology had been at the forefront of demand, supplying the country with groundbreaking innovations. Their influence was so profound that buildings, schools, and billboards bore their name in honor. They became the embodiment of high society and untouchable success in America.

However, after the passing of Y/ns father, the company’s prestige and reputation went downhill. Soon L/n. Inc was buried by other up-incoming engineers with bigger ideas, faster solutions, and more efficient products. What was once America's most prestigious company was now a forgotten memory.

Until your twenty third birthday arrived, and your father's will stipulated that upon his passing, the empire would be handed over to the eldest L/n child.Taking charge of the company, you unleashed your unrelenting drive. For years, you had observed your father's tireless nights of work, and the dedication he poured into the company. His legacy became your purpose.

Growing up, your life revolved around your father's teachings and his pursuit of excellence. From a young age, he immersed you in the world of science and technology, and you soaked up knowledge like a sponge. As he explained the intricate molecular structure of vibranium, you sat in awe in your high chair, absorbing every word.

From that moment on, you were expected to be nothing short of a carbon copy of your brilliant father. Academics became your priority, and you quickly excelled in the math and science fields. However, this dedication came at a cost – you sacrificed social outings and events during high school, choosing instead to spend your time perfecting your craft and living up to your father's high standards. Long hours were spent hunched over a desk, diving deep into research and innovation. Now, with the responsibility of the company resting on your shoulders, you were determined not to let all your father's hard work go to waste. The thought of allowing untalented and entitled individuals to take over what was built with so much passion and dedication ignited a fierce determination within you.

After inheriting the company 10 years ago you immediately rose through the ranks and L/n. Inc was back on the tabloids as New York's top engineering company. Driven by a relentless ambition, you earned your place as a formidable figure in the engineering landscape. Your brilliant ideas along with your father's teachings allowed you to refine your technology and weapons to perfection. The demand for your products was through the roof and you made millions. High-paying investors from all around the world were coming to New York to see and buy your designs.

Your cold, focused, and reserved nature, along with your rapidly growing empire intimidated potential competitors, which gained you the respect and prestige you needed to uphold the company’s reputation.

You were unstoppable.

That was until Maximoff Industries.

Maximoff Industries was Sokovias most prominent and respected engineering company. Even though they were still relatively new to the field that didn’t stop them from breaking countless records and rising through the ranks Once they decided to relocate to New York. As expected they were quick to put a dent in your sales numbers.

At the heart of it all was Wanda Maximoff – a powerhouse of a woman, displaying a captivating aura that draws people in. While not as cold and detached as you, she maintains a level of professionalism that commands respect and admiration. Some might even describe her as friendly, with a warmth that contrasts the cool exterior of her competitor. But beneath her approachable demeanor lies an unwavering determination and a fierce desire to become the best engineering company the world has ever seen.

Thus, a rivalry was formed. The competition between both of your Companys was electric. Every Month either you or Wanda was ahead. You had your team work themselves until the brink of death coming up with new ideas that would outsell Maximoff Industries. The same trope echoed within Wanda's company, as her team matched your dedication step for step. Late nights and early mornings became the new reality as she dissected every aspect of your technology, searching for any imperfections. Anything she could use to break you down.

The rivalry between your companies intensified with each passing month, setting the business world abuzz with anticipation and excitement. Photos, articles, and Newspapers were being published every month detailing any upcoming projects or interactions you two had with each other. Whenever asked about anything Wanda related your responses were always the same.

“No comment”

“Would rather not say”

“I'm not allowed to say anything”

You always tried to stay out of the media as much as possible, you knew how everything was twisted or taken out of context in order to satisfy their audience. Wanda on the other hand couldn’t seem to get enough of the overwhelming attention. Always happy to give detailed responses to random interviewers on the street and pose for photographers, even though it was clear they were following her. She was basically their only outlet to you since she apparently had no filter when it came to the paparazzi.

“I heard she's working on a new type of AI device that's going to be used in search and rescue missions”

“Of course, we don’t hate each other! Just Friendly competition!”

“She's single, I think. But with her looks, who knows?”

Her latest interview sparked a plethora of theories among the people of New York, The press finding endless entertainment in your perceived connection. Were they secretly working together? Dating? Sleeping together?

Amidst all the success and recognition, there was one area that remained untouched – matters of the heart. Your relentless dedication to the company and your guarded demeanor left little room for personal connections. Love had always seemed like a distraction, and you found comfort in pouring your energy into your work, your empire, and your dreams.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, throwing the open-faced magazine on your desk. This is exactly why you stayed out of the press. Once they found out one little snippet of information about you they would twist it around just to fuel their crazy theories. Now you would have to prepare yourself to be bombarded with flashing camera lights and microphones being shoved in your face all while you were just trying to get to your car.

Yet, compared to past allegations, a dating rumor was almost a relief. In October, you'd been accused of murdering your father to claim the business. Another scandal involved pregnancy after declining a drink at a New Year's Eve party. A dating rumor would likely fade within a week.A dating rumor was a piece of cake. You’d been accused of sleeping with a number of people in the past. It would blow over within a week.

Your eyes trained back on the magazine cover “A secret scandalous affair” followed by photos of you and Wanda. Your thumb found its way to your teeth as you leaned back in your big office chair with the magazine in your hand. Your interest starting to peak. At least this rumor was somewhat entertaining for you. Typically the people you were accused of sleeping with were past friends of your father, who were old, fat, or balding.

Amongst your hatred for Wanda, you couldn’t help but be captivated by her. Her beauty was undeniable. Your eyes gazed upon the photo in the magazine, it was a photoshoot Wanda had done for a sponsorship a few months ago. She wore a dark red suit that fit perfectly around her body, her hair cascaded past her shoulders as she gazed into the camera with a gentle smile. She was posing in the streets of Manhattan, surrounded by giant buildings that framed her gorgeous figure. pedestrians blurred in the background which only highlighted her powerful presence. Her bright green eyes stared right back at you as you continued to observe the photograph. Her arms, legs, nose, lips-

“What are you reading?”

You were startled out of your daze, quickly shutting the magazine and sitting up straight in your seat to see Natasha raising an eyebrow and giving you a confused look.

“Nothing. just these ridiculous magazines I keep getting sent” you replied, moving a stack of papers over the cover.

Natasha suspiciously observed your rather shaken-up demeanor as she was expecting your serious deadpan face when she walked in not you ogling at a photo of Wanda Maximoff “Ok. Well… just wanted to tell you the monthly report came back in and once again we are second to Maximoff, by 5 sales this time”

“What. Are you sure? The last time I checked…” Your focus trailed off as you began clicking through different files on your computer.

“I'm sure. It's that new drone she just released. Stark Industries just bought ten of them” Natasha's hands were now in her pockets, observing your worried yet focused expression which was glued to the screen of your computer. Natasha was the Vice president of L/N Inc. And you owed most of your success to the redhead. She was the backbone of the company and shared the same passions and desires as you.

Those weeks were it seemed like you were working yourself into a grave in order to meet upcoming deadlines, She was right by your side, writing notes, crunching numbers, filling out spreadsheets and even correcting the mistakes you rarely made. She kept all of your employees at the top of their game when you weren't there to bark orders at everyone, and you were almost positive you and the rest of the company would be a chaotic mess if it weren't for her.

“We need to move up the timeline for the AI robot release if we want to get ahead next month” Natasha was now in front of your desk handing you a blue folder “This is a new updated timeline for the project. I know it's faster than we planned but I think if we can get this AI out before September we have a chance at getting ahead of Maximoff for the October reports”

You sighed as you looked over the papers “Thank you, Nat. I really wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you”

She gave you a sympathetic nod before turning to exit your office. You felt the stress build in your stomach as you read over the new timeline. It was almost a month ahead of schedule, and you were still a third of the way from finishing the final project.

You were starting to get really sick of Wanda Maximoff.

————————-

The sounds of keyboard clacking and rustling papers were the only things heard in your large office tower, The building was eerily dark, the only light coming from the conference room on the 27th floor. Your back ached and your eyes felt heavy from hours of being hunched over your desk.

You finally decided to take a break, stretching your arms above your head and looking out the big glass windows that overlooked the city, only to be met with the darkness of night and speckles of light illuminating from other buildings. You blinked in surprise checking your watch. 1:46 am. Have you really been here that long?

You sighed and looked at the sprawled-out papers that almost covered the entire conference table, you decided to migrate down to the conference room since your tiny desk wasn’t big enough for this chaotic mess. The situation was growing more and more impossible with each passing minute. Despite brainstorming a multitude of strategies, the looming project deadline for September remained a stark reminder of your impending failure.

Frustration gnawed at you, a tempestuous emotion ignited by the mere thought of Wanda outperforming you in the upcoming monthly report.

Defeat was not an option. Sleep was a distant memory, and your social life had become a casualty of your unwavering commitment to your work. With a determined huff, you settled back into your seat, your brows furrowing as your eyes scanned the multitude of charts, graphs, and spreadsheets demanding your attention. The focus of your thoughts was abruptly interupted by a gentle knock, followed by the slow creaking of your office door.

“Natasha. I already told you I would be staying late” you spoke without looking up from the documents in your hand.

A melodious chuckle filled the air, accompanied by a voice you weren't expecting. “You know, you've been holed up in this tower for so long, I'm starting to think you're avoiding me.

Your gaze immediately shot up once you recognized the sultry voice you had become all to familiar with. There she stood, Wanda Maximoff in all her glory. She wore a loose dark red blouse, tucked into her long black slacks. She must have come straight from her office.

“How did you get in here?” you abandoned the papers, your focus now being shifted to the tall redhead standing in the middle of your conference room.

“Micheal let me in, told him I had important business to discuss with Miss L/N” she replied, removing a hand from her pocket to hold up a day pass badge she must have received from the janitor.

“Well, it looks like I will have to talk to Micheal about letting strangers into the building in the middle of the night” You were beginning to get more frustrated, you had enough to deal with as it is.

“Strangers? Please. me and you both know were obsessed with each other” she said with a cocky tone, only fueling the burning fire in your stomach. She was right of course. The rivalry between you and Wanda was more than just professional competition; it was an obsession that fueled both of your careers. you couldn't count the endless nights you spent researching the Scarlett woman, Watching every interview you could find of her, reading every article. Trying to find any source of information you could use to take her down.

Wanda, too, was caught up in the same game. But unlike her, you were a master at guarding your private life, granting only a glimpse into your world through one or two interviews or photographs a month – sometimes three, if the mood struck you. You were excellent at avoiding the paparazzi, a talent wanda was not fond of. She craved to know the person that was always at the front of her mind, the person that had occupied almost all of her thoughts for the past 5 years. The secrecy of Y/n L/N ignited a flame of curiosity and desire inside her. Even though your office buildings were only 2 blocks from each other, she felt like you were on an entirely different planet.

Your rivalry had become a dance of fascination, a battle not only for success in the business world but also for the chance to understand the person behind the titles and achievements. The world may see you as rivals, but deep down, you both knew that there was something more.

“Don't flatter yourself” you spoke while rolling your eyes your patience was getting thinner and the smirk on Wanda's face was not helping. “What do you want wanda? why are you here”

“I wanted to see how you were,” she said, the sincerity evident in her words, this was true. The demands of your rapidly growing empire caused you to withdraw from the outside world. You had been locked away in your office day and night, immersed in your work. You were going out less and less, missing out on the countless business events where Wanda had the privilege of catching a glimpse of you.

Although she grew accustomed to only seeing your presence once and a while at board meetings, exclusive events, or walking through the streets of New York, she was beginning to get frustrated. And a little worried about your growing absence.

You scoffed “Im fine, thank you” turning your attention back to your work, Picking up your abandoned papers and tapping them against the desk to shape them into a neat pile “Now as you can see I am very busy, so if there is nothing else I can help you wi-”

“I have a business proposal for you” she confidently spoke, meeting your cold stare, watching your face briefly contort into confusion before returning back to your usual cold stare.

You narrowed your eyes at her, inspecting her face for any traces of sarcasm. To your surprise you found none. “What are you talking about?”

She watched as you raised a hand to move your reading glasses to the top of your head. Her eyes glossed over at the sight of your hair pushed back, exposing more of your beautiful face.

“Im sure you've heard of stark industries” Wanda spoke, you shifted, of course, you had heard of stark industries.No one had heard of Tony Stark until last year. Within his first year, he had already broken twice as many records as you did when you were first starting out and had already risen to the number four spot in the country. Uncomfortably close to your rank. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Wanda's heels clacking on the floor as she made her war closer to you. Now Standing just a few feet from you “He offered me a partnership deal.”

Your face fell and your body froze. This was not good. If Tony and wanda were to partner up, that would be it for you. Panic started to bubble in the pit of your stomach. this news put a crack in the facade you were desperately trying to uphold. Wanda seemed to be enjoying herself watching your serious and cold demeanor crumble in a matter of seconds. “But I turned it down”

“What?” You blinked, making sure you heard her correctly “Have you lost your mind? What could have possibly possessed you to make such a stupid decision.” of course you were immensely relieved that she had declined the offer, however, you couldn't stop the frustration at wanda for turning down such a rare opportunity, An opportunity you would have killed to have. “If you came here just to rub this in my face-”

“I think you and I should partner up”

You were once again at a loss for words. Wanda stepped forward to take a seat closest to you. On one of the many large black swivel chairs in the conference room. “I want you. y/n.” You felt yourself heat up at her choice of words. “Tony's proposal got me thinking. You and I have been the owners of the 2 most successful engineering companies for almost a decade now. I've seen what you're capable of, Y/n. Your innovative ideas, and your dedication to your team, it's admirable. And I can't help but wonder what we could achieve together." Wanda continued, her voice gentle yet confident.

Your heart pounded in your chest as her words sunk in. Joining forces? You never thought you'd hear those words coming from Wanda's lips. The tension between your companies had always been palpable, and yet here she was, proposing a partnership

The conference room seemed to fade away as you considered her proposal. Working together with Wanda would undoubtedly be challenging, but the potential for greatness was undeniable. The combined expertise, resources, and talent of your two companies could create an engineering powerhouse, one that could outshine any new competition that arose.

As you took a moment to gather your thoughts, Wanda leaned in closer, her hand moving to rest on your knee "Think about it, y/n. I believe we could not only dominate the market but also push the boundaries of what's possible in engineering."

You narrowed your eyes at the woman sitting in front of you “Wanda, where is all of this coming from? you and I have been at each other throats for the past five years and now all the sudden you want to work together?”

Wanda's demeanor shifted, her eyes pierced straight into yours as she leaned forward to take one of your hands in her own. Her touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you couldn't ignore the rush of emotions welling up inside.

“Y/N. you are truly brilliant. Your designs are impeccable and You have an undeniable talent that I have been trying to replicate for years.” her hold on your hand tightened. You fell speechless at this confession. A sudden warmth spread throughout your chest. You searched Wanda's eyes for any trace of dishonesty but were only met with a look of raw truth. “Aren't you tired of fighting? wouldn't it feel good to build something great together”

You fell silent as your brain tried to formulate a response. You really weren't expecting this “There's no way it would work, we hate each other”

Wandas eyes softened “Oh, baby, I could never hate you” she spoke, and you felt something twist inside you at her sudden use of a pet name. “sure your constant desire to be better than me gets on my nerves from time to time. But hate? Never.” the sincerity in her words brought a sense of relief and curiosity to you.

The proximity between the two of you was getting thinner. Wanda was now so close your knees were touching and the smell of her expensive perfume flooded your senses.

“Do you want to know what I think” Wanda questioned with a slight smirk on her lips. You hummed in response, the lids of your eyes relaxing as your mind focused on observing the features of her face. “I don't think you hate me as much as you say you do”

“And what makes you say that” You leaned in closer

Wanda's eyes went up and down your body taking in the lovely sight of your slightly exposed cleavage, having undone the first few buttons before she arrived. “I think you want me, and that frustrates you” There was a beat of silence before you responded.

“That's ridiculous” You slightly pulled away, turning your head to avoid her burning gaze. Wanda only moved in closer, putting a hand on your thigh “Oh no I don't think it is. I think deep down, you crave for me as much as I crave you.” you clenched your jaw in embarrassment, your face felt like it was on fire.

Suddenly, She stood up, her hands moving to place themselves on the arms of your chair, hovering over you, enveloping you in her presence. “Truth is, you make me so angry y/n” You turned to look up at Wanda.

“I've thought about you almost every day for the past 5 years. I've thought about every possible way I could breakdown those walls you set up, find any crack just so I could see who you really are.” you felt the ends of her long hair brush against the apples of your cheeks, leaning down further to rest her knee right in between you thighs, pushing your back further into the chair.

“I don't like how I can’t get to you, I hate how you shut me out.” Wanda brought a hand to your chin, angling your face upwards to stare right back into her emerald eyes. “I hate that I can't have you.”

your eyes softened, reaching out to place a hand on the soft skin of her cheek. despite all the chaos that was you and Wanda, you felt a sense of sorrow illuminating from her. You couldn't help the tug you felt in your heart.

Her knee between your thighs sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the heat between you intensifying. The moment was electric, and the air seemed charged with unspoken desires. As she held your chin, her thumb gently caressing your cheek, you could see the raw emotion in her eyes, and it mirrored your own.

“Trust me, Wanda, I've always been yours,” you think in some twisted way it was true. You had practically built your empire on the dedication of her. You knew every detail about her, from the way her nose scrunched when she laughed, to the shimmer she got in her eyes just before she was about to tell a joke. You had invasively studied her for 5 long years. You went to bed dreaming of fiery red hair and woke up thinking about sea-green eyes. no other person had your attention like Wanda did.

Wanda's eyes darkened, her gaze moving down towards your lips. You felt all of the tension from the past 5 years building up in the room. What was about to happen was inevitable. You and Wanda both knew it.

Finally, Wanda leaned down to press her lips against yours, she started off slow, basking in the softness of your lips. As the kiss deepened, a sense of urgency overcame you both, and you could feel the walls that once separated you crumble.

Without a second thought, Wanda effortlessly lifted you off your chair and onto the desk. The sensation of being hoisted up caused you to gasp, to which Wanda took the opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth. Wanda's arms held you securely as you instinctively wrapped your legs around her waist. You moaned when you felt the hard metal of her belt press against your clothed pussy.

You suddenly pulled back, Wanda furrowed her eyebrows and tried to chase after your lips, “Wanda. You know if we do this…things will change” you breathlessly spoke, your tone laced with caution but also lust.

“Yeah. Yeah. I know” Wanda quickly responded, attempting to reconnect your lips.

You put a hand on her chest, stopping her from devouring you “Things could get messy… and complicated”

All of a sudden, Wanda pushed you so your back laid flat against the mess of papers, your legs dangling off the edge of the desk. Using one hand she grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them above your head. You gasped, your heart pounding in your chest as she held you firmly against the desk “Y/n. I know. Trust me, I have thought about this a lot.”

You didn't have a chance to respond before Wanda smashed her lips back into yours, she used her other hand to run up the side of your thigh, pushing your skirt up to your hips. She moved her lips down to the edge of your jaw and then your neck. “Your so perfect” she mumbled against the soft skin of your neck.

Her fingers worked to undo the buttons of your blouse, practically ripping it from your body and tossing it to the side. Her mouth returned to your body, her teeth nipping at your collarbones as she moves her hand underneath you to unhook your bra.

You couldn't help but moan out when her mouth enclosed around one of your hardened nipples. With her hand still binding your wrists above your head you could only arch up your chest further into her mouth, letting out a pleasure-filled groan when she used her other hand to pinch a roll your other nipple between her fingers.

“You don't know how long I have been waiting to see you like this.” She groaned into your chest, Sending vibrations into your skin.

She finally let go of your wrists bringing her hand down to cup your pussy, now able to freely use your hands you tangled them in the mess of red hair that was splayed all over your chest.

Using her fingers she swiftly moved your panties to the side.

Wanda almost lost it when she pressed her hand against your pussy, feeling your wetness coat her fingertips. Her fingers ran up and down your slit, before she slipped them inside you, curling them right against your sweet spot.

“Fuck, Wanda” you harshly bit your lip, throwing your head back onto the desk. Wanda's fingers continued to pump in and out of you, setting a perfect rhythmic pace. You struggled to stifle the moans that threatened to escape, desperately attempting to hold onto any sense of dignity you had left amidst the overwhelming pleasure. However, It became clear that Wanda was determined to unravel you completely at this very moment.

“No, don't, I need to hear you.” Wanda breathlessly begged, momentarily pausing her fingers, causing you to let out a whine and buck your hips up to move her fingers deeper inside you. Surrendering, You moved your hand from your mouth, and as a reward she resumed her fingers, this time using her thumb to circle your clit. You were beginning to lose yourself in her, your senses becoming overwhelmed with Wanda. You wanted this feeling to last forever, to savor the feeling of her inside you.

Your moans were begining to get louder, Your jaw went slack against the side of her face as she continued to pump her fingers in and out of you at a ridiculous pace.

Wanda watched in pure adoration, your gorgeous face contorting in pleasure, your hips jumping up in fits to meet her hand, A rush of pride swelled up inside of her, knowing she could get this reaction out of you. y/n l/n. The daunting woman feared by half of the engineering industry. The same woman whom others could only dream of catching a mere glimpse of was now falling apart underneath her. Wanda couldn't help but want to be the only person who saw you in this intimate way. The thought of being the one who could unravel the layers of the formidable y/n l/n ignited a fiery wave of possessiveness within her.

“You're doing so good, baby” Wanda praised, returning her lips to your neck where she sunk her teeth into the softness of your skin and began to suck. Your eyes suddenly shot open and tugged on her hair causing Wanda to let out a groan, vibrating into your skin.

“Wanda don't, people will see” You were panting at this point, you could feel your orgasm building, the coil in your stomach threatening to snap at any given moment.

“I want them to see, I want everybody to know that you are mine.” her tone was assertive and dominating, her mouth never left the skin of your neck where she left behind deep red marks that you were sure would ache in the morning.

Her sudden possessiveness made you throb. A thrilling wave of desire surged through your body. Everything about Wanda was undeniably intoxicating – her confidence, her intelligence, the way she held herself with such magnetic allure. The way she looked at you with those intense, emerald eyes, the way her hands traced tenderly over your skin and the way she claimed you as hers ignited a primal response within you.

You surrendered to her, throwing your head back to give her complete access to you. her fingers just felt so good and her soft lips attacking your neck sent electric jolts throughout your body.

“God, fuck, wanda im gonna cum”

“Yeah? gonna be a good girl and make a mess all over my fingers?” Wandas fingers moved faster in you, her thumb moved to put more pressure on your clit, encouraging you to reach your climax. You buried your face in the crook of Wandas neck, biting into her shoulder as you fell into your orgasm, shaking and writhing against Wanda's tight hold.

“That's it, baby, keep going” wanda was moaning into your ear, feeling your wet walls tense and spasm around her fingers.

Wanda slowed down the pace of her fingers, letting you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm before gently pulling them out of you.

She placed soothing kisses over the bruises she had created on your neck, she kissed her way up your body until she met your lips. You sighed into the gentle feel of her lips against yours, basking in the feeling of your post-orgasmic glow.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, more than alright” you giggled, wanda smiled against your lips, holding your body flush against her. She pulled back to take in the sight of you. Your lips were swollen and red, a beautiful blush adorned your cheeks, and your chest was rising and falling with every heavy breath you took in. Your hair, which was now nothing more than a disheveled mess, cascaded past your shoulders, framing your face in a captivating way.

“Absolutely gorgeous” she breathed out. Her admiration evident in her voice

But before you could fully revel in the moment, your intimate bubble was abruptly burst by a loud knock on the door of the conference room. Both you and Wanda shot up, eyes wide with panic rising in you.

“Miss L/N, are you still in there? I need to vacuum before I head out for the night.” You immediately recognized the voice as the company's janitor Micheal—the one who had triggered the events of the night by letting Wanda into the building.

“Yes, Michael! I'll be out in a second!" Your voice came out slightly higher than normal as you swiftly pushed Wanda away, hastily pulling your skirt back down to your knees and frantically searching for your discarded top. Your heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety, trying to regain your composure as the interruption jolted you back to reality.

Wanda, seemingly amused by your frazzled state, observed you with a playful glint in her eye. You felt a rush of vulnerability as you ran around the room, both arms instinctively covering your chest to shield yourself from Wanda's piercing gaze.

As you searched for your top, she reached for the silk blouse that had been resting on the head of a swivel chair and offered it to you. You reached out to take it, but just as your fingers brushed against the fabric, Wanda pulled her arm back, causing you to stumble and fall into her embrace. She held you close, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you. In the closeness of the moment, her words rang in your ears, reminding you of the business proposal she had made earlier.

"I want you to consider my offer, y/n," she whispered softly, her breath tickling your ear. "I meant what I said before. I truly believe we could achieve great things together."

The wave of embarrassment mixed with the excitement of the moment as you tried to cover up your exposed front from Wanda's lingering gaze. “I will. But can we please discuss this later?”

Wanda gave you a satisfied grin, handing you your shirt before stepping away to give you some privacy. As you swiftly turned around, you threw your shirt over your shoulders to cover the exposed skin of your back, and your fingers worked to fasten the buttons of your blouse. She observed you for a moment, taking in the sight of you as you composed yourself.

Deciding to take her leave, Wanda's heels clacked against the floor as she headed towards the exit of the conference room. However, with your back turned, you didn't notice her discreetly slipping a little red folder under her arm.

Unbeknownst to you, that folder contained the new timeline for the AI release, a pivotal piece of information that could shape the future of your company. In the midst of the intimate encounter, Wanda had managed to seize an opportunity to further her goals, using the moment to her advantage.

As she made her exit, a mischievous glint danced in her eyes, knowing that she had just played her cards strategically. The rivalry between your companies still burned fiercely, and she wasn't about to let the opportunity slip through her fingers. With the information concealed in that little red folder, Wanda was one step closer to gaining an edge in the competitive race.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #fanfic #elizabeth olsen

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visit-new-york · 1 year

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Unveiling the Marvel: 10 Fascinating Facts About the Brooklyn Bridge

Step back in time to the bustling era of the late 19th century, where innovation and ambition converged in the heart of New York City. The Brooklyn Bridge, an iconic symbol of engineering prowess, stands as a testament to human ingenuity. As we embark on a journey to uncover its secrets, let's explore ten captivating facts that will transport you to the enchanting world of this architectural marvel.

When was the Brooklyn Bridge completed?

The Brooklyn Bridge, a testament to enduring craftsmanship, was completed on May 24, 1883. Imagine the excitement and awe that swept through the city as this colossal structure emerged, connecting the boroughs of Manhattan and Brooklyn.

Who was the chief engineer of the Brooklyn Bridge?

The visionary behind this grand undertaking was none other than John A. Roebling, an engineer with a relentless passion for suspension bridges. Tragically, Roebling succumbed to an injury during the early stages of construction, leaving his son, Washington Roebling, to carry on his legacy and oversee the completion of the bridge.

How long is the Brooklyn Bridge?

Stretching majestically across the East River, the Brooklyn Bridge spans a total length of 5,989 feet. Its dual towers loom high above the water, a testament to the bridge's grandeur and endurance.

What are the main materials used in the construction of the Brooklyn Bridge?

The bridge's construction harnessed the power of steel and stone. The towers were built using limestone, granite, and cement, while the span itself relied on a combination of steel cables and iron. This blend of materials ensured both strength and aesthetic appeal.

How many towers does the Brooklyn Bridge have?

The Brooklyn Bridge proudly boasts two towering sentinels, each standing as a majestic guardian at the entrance of their respective boroughs. These granite-clad towers not only serve as structural anchors but also as enduring symbols of the bridge's resilience.

Can pedestrians walk across the Brooklyn Bridge?

Absolutely! The Brooklyn Bridge welcomes pedestrians with open arms. Take a stroll across its wooden-planked walkway and revel in the breathtaking panoramic views of the Manhattan skyline, the Statue of Liberty, and the bustling river below.

Is there a fee to walk or drive across the Brooklyn Bridge?

Fear not, adventurers! Walking across this historic bridge comes with no price tag. However, if you plan to drive, be prepared to pay a toll. But trust us, the pedestrian experience is unparalleled.

What is the purpose of the Brooklyn Bridge?

Beyond its functional role as a vehicular and pedestrian thoroughfare, the Brooklyn Bridge stands as a symbol of unity, linking two boroughs and transcending the waters that once divided them. Its purpose goes beyond transportation – it's a living testament to human ambition and the relentless pursuit of connection.

How tall are the towers of the Brooklyn Bridge?

Stand in awe as you gaze up at the towering giants of the Brooklyn Bridge. Each tower rises to a majestic height of 276 feet, piercing the sky and leaving an indelible mark on the city's skyline.

How many cables support the Brooklyn Bridge?

The strength of the Brooklyn Bridge lies in its cables, and there are a staggering 14,680 of them! These cables, meticulously woven and anchored, provide the bridge with the support it needs to withstand the test of time.

Conclusion:

The Brooklyn Bridge, a marvel of engineering and a testament to human resilience, continues to captivate hearts and minds. Whether you traverse its walkway, gaze at its towers from afar, or simply revel in its historical significance, the bridge remains a living testament to the spirit of innovation that defines New York City. As you navigate its storied path, remember that you're walking not just across a river but through the pages of history itself.

#Brooklyn Bridge #at sunrise #sunrise #The Brooklyn Bridge #1 #New York City #new york #newyork #New-York #nyc #NY #manhattan #urban #city #USA #buildings #visit-new-york.tumblr.com #bridge

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up2123753theories · 4 months

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Identity

Definitions

The fact of being who or what a person or thing is

A close similarity or affinity

Rem Koolhaas: National Identity In Architecture

As said on ‘Psychology today’, a person’s “identity encompasses the memories, experiences, relationships and values that create one’s sense of self”. As much as this quote is in reference to a person’s identity it can also be related to architecture. For example, the style of buildings and placement in certain countries and cities can be seen as part of that locations identity as sometimes architects use a places’ history as inspiration for new buildings. Identity plays a large role in everyday life, from personal identity to a companies identity to a nations.

Utilities One explains the link between architecture and personal identity: “Physical spaces and places play a significant role in shaping our well-being and personal identity.” This quote really shows the importance of our surroundings and how it affects our identities. A colourful surrounding could make some very colourful and happy but it could also make others almost ‘rebel’ and dislike colour.

Even though identity is usually recognised within people it is also applicable to buildings, objects and places. Everything has different memories and characteristics which identify them.

Quotes:

“Identity encompasses the memories, experiences, relationships and values that create one’s sense of self” – Psychology Today “Physical spaces and places play a significant role in shaping our well-being and personal identity” – Psychology Today “It should be people-specific and should also represent the way of life of such people” – Chukwuali “Architecture As Identity” – Abel

References:

Abel, Chris. Architecture and Identity : Towards a Global Eco-Culture. Oxford England ; Boston, Architectural Press, 1997.

Adebayo, Anthony, et al. “Architecture: The Quest for Cultural Identity.” Facta Universitatis - Series: Architecture and Civil Engineering, vol. 11, no. 2, 2013, pp. 169–177, www.researchgate.net/publication/274829351_Architecture_The_quest_for_cultural_identity, https://doi.org/10.2298/fuace1302169a.

C. B. Chukwuali, "The influence of cultural pluralism on architectural practice in Nigeria: The content,

the context and the imperatives", Journal of Nigerian Institute of Architects, Enugu State Chapter, Vol. 1, No. 3, 2005, pp 13-20.

“Construction Spaces and the Influence on Personal Identity and Self-Expression.” Utilities One, 6 Nov. 2023, utilitiesone.com/construction-spaces-and-the-influence-on-personal-identity-and-self-expression. Accessed 20 Jan. 2024.

“Identity | Psychology Today.” Www.psychologytoday.com, www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/identity#:~:text=Identity%20encompasses%20the%20memories%2C%20experiences.

Oxford Dictionary. “Oxford Languages.” Oxford Languages, Oxford University Press, 2023, languages.oup.com/google-dictionary-en/.

WA Contents. “ Rem Koolhaas: National Identity in Architecture,” WorldArchitecture.org, 26 Mar. 2014, worldarchitecture.org/article-links/pmezp/rem-koolhaas-national-identity-in-architecture.html.

During my research on identity I came to the realisation that even structures have their own identity and that they also help to create the identity of a place. For example, New York wouldn’t be the same without all its skylines which use their height to show off the powerful and wealthy identity of New York.

Chris Abel is a writer and educator who focuses on architectural practices, based in Malta. He has visited and taught in many big universities across the world. He is the author of a book called ‘Architecture and Identity’ which consists of a variety of his key essays that look into cultural and technological changes that are reshaping modern architecture. ‘Architecture and Identity’ is separated into three separate parts: Science and technology, Critical Theory, and Regionalism and Globalization. Within the section on Regionalism and Globalization he has a sub-section called “Architecture as Identity”. Within this chapter Chris looks at how architecture is used to show a places’ identity.

I strongly agree with, “Architecture as Identity” as a quote itself. This is because it shows that our architecture will and has always been used as a way to show a society or communities identity and what they find important and what they believe in, which they have done for centuries through the use of temples, churches and houses, etc.

I believe that as much as our personal identities are important, the identity of our architecture and what it tells others is and has always been equally as important. It shows off power, beliefs, religions and how our society works with each other.

Throughout my research I found that identity is such a broad subject that it is fairly tricky to pin point it to one specific topic. I tried to focus on identity within architecture as best I could to avoid going completely off-topic.

#architecture #interior architecture #design #history

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probablyasocialecologist · 1 year

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Building at great height requires a massive amount more material than a typical high-rise. The upper storeys of super- and megatall buildings – which often include hundreds of metres of unoccupiable ‘vanity’ height – are buffeted by ferocious wind loads, with any sway at all introducing enormous destabilising forces into the structure below. They are home to hefty services that raise water, coolant, people and air to great heights, and these heights must be offset by deep underground foundations. ‘If you’ve ever seen any Revit models [of London high-rises, there is pretty much as much concrete in those foundations as there is above ground,’ says Natasha Watson, an engineer at Buro Happold who leads the firm’s efforts to measure and reduce embodied carbon in its projects. Even in areas with firmer ground than London, Watson explains, the awe-inspiring physics of skyscrapers has a huge material cost.

In an industry that is chronically lacking in transparency around its ecological, social and labour impact, it is difficult to find good data on the carbon footprint of skyscrapers. But the assessments that are available bear out the physics. Watson and her colleagues’ modelling shows that the efficiency of structural material usage, by floor area, drops above just three storeys. According to a 2015 study commissioned by the CTBUH, the whole life emissions of both energy use and materials for a 120m concrete and steel structure are nearly five times higher than those of its 60m equivalent. Who knows what the cost becomes at 600m?

It is not yet possible to avoid this cost by using less ecologically destructive materials. Although some 100m-tall timber buildings are beginning to appear, they are nowhere near the 600m ‘megatall’ mark. According to Watson, finding a sufficient volume and quality of reused steel and concrete structural components for such a large, high-performance building would also likely be challenging.

Even at city level, the huge carbon cost of skyscrapers fails to outweigh any potential benefits that they might achieve from restraining urban sprawl. A study in npj Urban Sustainability in 2021 showed that the most carbon-efficient way for cities to grow is by developing densely built low-rise environments. The carbon cost of taller buildings is greater than carbon savings from restricted land use. This means that high-density low-rise cities such as Paris are more carbon-efficient than high-density high-rise cities such as New York.

#architecture #skyscrapers #cities #sustainability #construction

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karolamurdock · 3 months

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SpiderWoman 2099 Pt.4

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!Reader

Sinopsis: The year is 2106. By day, you work as the head of the Genetic Engineering and Biotechnology division at Alchemax. By night, you are the one and only Spider-Woman, fighting tirelessly to protect New York from the tyrannical clutches of crime and delinquency. Your days are spent in an ordinary, organized routine: it's just you, the only barrier between your city and oblivion, dealing with the violence and pain that comes with being a superhero.

Everything is just normal. Then your dead husband appears in front of you, talking about alternate universes, spider societies and canonical disasters, and you discover that all your sorrows, losses and failures were possibly always meant to happen.

What the fuck.

Notes: No excuses. Let this chapter, full of Miguel, make up for the long time I was gone. I will keep the reader's background rather ambiguous, but it is implied that they also speaks Spanish.

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know.

Warnings: Intrusive thoughts, mild violence, subtle references to depression. As always, english is not my first lenguague.

Word count: 2.6K

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4

Impassive white eyes stared back at you with disdain. You looked with abject curiosity at the spidery pattern on his red suit, the white glasses and the sharp claws, and you couldn't help but wonder...

Who makes a spider suit for a cat?

Undaunted, the animal yawned loudly and stretched lazily over the railing before leaping onto the pristine marble floor, completely silent and oblivious to your anomalous presence. He waved his orange tail and stretched the red patterns that hugged his hind legs.

You did not have the opportunity to entertain yourself with her pretty pink pads. A gloved hand brushed your shoulder, and you turned your masked face to observe your guide's own grim expression.

"Come with me." Miguel said. "I'll show you around before introducing you to the rest of Society."

Silently, you nodded. The man walked two steps ahead of you. His broad, imposing figure was like a bronze spur, parting the sea of arachnid entities that watched you with open curiosity.

As he made his way through the crowd, you quietly followed in his footsteps. Grateful for the foresight to keep your mask in place, you analyzed the discordant structure of the building that surrounded you. You noticed the long corridors and open configuration: designed to facilitate mobility for your kind.

Miguel moved forward, and you watched his impassive figure with stern eyes. You wondered if he too had become Orpheus in his willingness to claim you back, and now feared to look back and lose his Eurydice. Perhaps the anguish in his gaze would be enough to draw you into the shadows and lose you forever. Would he then be blessed to work and move the gods with craftsmanship born of his terrible grief?

Was it so for you? You could not claim that your deeds after his death were unselfish and sincere: you did not seek to soften the wind with your tender weeping, nor to drown the rushing waters with the song of your heroic prowess. The resolution of your vengeance was your reward: an analgesic balm to numb the turmoil of your burning soul.

Together, you entered the lift... You watched the changing landscape. On the glass, you saw Miguel's ponderous silhouette, stern and rigid. The pattern of his suit resembled your own. But your own profile was outlined with sharper lines, and your web shooters were not exposed, but hidden in the webbing patterns on your wrists.

The door opened, and you followed him through large, well-lit rooms, through huge recreation rooms, and through small, immaculate, familiar laboratories. You carefully analyzed the information he gave you along the way: where to find the scientists in charge of certain labs, the optimum hours for accessing the training rooms, the menu in the main cafeteria (a burger with Miguel's mask on it? Santo Dios...). Finally, he took you to his own office. On one of the top floors, of course. Just like your universe.

When the lift stopped in his office, your mask retracted. Miguel did a quick double take, pursed his lips and looked up; you followed his gaze to see a red light flashing rapidly on one of the screens above the platform.

You heard Miguel's grunt as Lyla appeared over his shoulder, giving you a quick wink before turning to face the man:

"An anomaly is causing trouble on Earth-1048. Homeworld Spider-Man is already on the scene, but he's limited to minimizing the destruction around him."

"Copy that." Miguel said. He ran a hand over his face, holding the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut, and the gesture seemed so familiar that you almost let out the breath you were holding between your lips. "I have to deal with this. I'll talk to Jessica, she can show you the room you can use as your own."

"I can go with you." You finally spoke.

Miguel looked at you in surprise. But he quickly frowned and replied:

"No, it's too soon. I'll be able to show you how we deal with the anomalies once you're settled in and we know more about your universe."

Your universe. Like a wave crashing against rock, you felt heat coursing through your veins and burning in the pit of your stomach. You felt that in your rage, the marks on your suit might be burned into your skin forever.

You blinked. Ignoring the fire in your chest, you responded:

"I could settle in better if I knew what I was dealing with."

Miguel studied you. His red eyes scanned your face: your steel eyes, your unbending brows, your closed lips, and he said no more. Sharing a last look with Lyla, he nodded with finality, and she took it upon herself to open the portal for the two of you.

"Let 's go, then."

🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷

It was a cold morning in Harlem. The white sky barely hinted at the day's pale rays, and the streets were shrouded in a thick, damp gray haze. As you and Miguel landed on a lamppost overlooking the East River and the small buildings lining the street, an ominous silence settled over the scene at your feet.

You sat back on your heels, scanning the nondescript landscape, and Miguel followed, his back stiff and his hands clenched into fists as he exhaled:

"The signal seems to be coming from this warehouse." He gestured with his chin, and you peered intently at the gray silhouette of a building surrounded by tall grills and long containers. A cloud of gray smoke rose through the haze, and with a mighty leap you launched yourself in its direction, hearing Miguel's nets snap past you.

Soon you were perched on the railing of a neighboring building, with a clear view of the ruined courtyard. Sparks rained down from the ruined batteries; small fires burned and cracks in the concrete marred the once peaceful scene.

Rubble crunched beneath your feet as you landed in the courtyard. In the distance, you heard a muffled, heavy thud. You glanced cautiously at a large metal curtain to your right as a deafening screech pierced the jealous silence. Beside you, Miguel brought his knees to his chest and the two of you jumped away just as the door shot in your direction.

A red figure flew through the air. With a start, you threw your nets around the man's torso, jumping just in time to catch him before his body slammed into a large metal container.

"Nice catch." Gasped the Spider-Man in your arms. "Rhino's got an arm."

"Does he throw you often?"

"Well, yeah." The young man cleared his throat, pulling himself to his feet with a little help. "But I don't usually get caught by..." He tilted his head to the side, curious.

"Spider-Woman." You conceded.

Her white glasses widened comically as he whistled under his breath:

"Awesome!"

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Miguel's orange nets wrapped around Rhino's massive arm, and you spun on your heels as the beast slammed into the tower Miguel was standing on.

"He's really mad!" Spider-Man exhaled as he rushed to your side. "I don't understand, according to my intel, Aleksei's transfer still hasn't been coordinated. He is still in the custody of the police."

"He's not Aleksei Sytsevich!" Miguel shouted. He had dodged a large stone and landed next to you. "His name is Alexander O'Hirn. He is the Rhino of dimension 26496."

"Oh!" Spider-Man exclaimed. "I knew you weren't my Rhino! We've always had this connection, you know?"

The man lunged at you, furious. You caught a glimpse of a crane with a container suspended in the air, and you pulled the arm of the crane just as the man was passing underneath the box. The container landed on top of his armour with a clatter that made your ears ring.

"Watch out!"

A strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you out of the way of a huge chunk of concrete.

"Not one, but three Spider-Creeps!" he growled.

"Hey, that's not very nice of you." Spider-Man landed a kick to the chest, but Rhino didn't move. He grabbed the hero's legs and slammed him into the wreckage of the crane. Taking advantage of the distraction, Miguel jumped up and punched him in the face, the only exposed part of his body.

Rhino let go of Spider-Man and took a step back. With a leap, you stood on a low beam and surveyed your surroundings. As the man jerked and rammed into Miguel, you activated your drones; small winged spiders that flew over the villain's head, firing electric shocks that immobilised him with a scream.

"His face!" you exclaimed, and Miguel leapt to your side to dodge the rocks Rhino dropped as he stomped on the concrete.

Spider-Man, snapping out of his daze, noticed the same thing you did: the small visible part of his face was hyperemic and sweaty. "His suit must be restricting his ventilation!"

So this would be a battle of endurance. Good, you thought to yourself. You've been doing this for years.

With a nod, Miguel and Spider-Man squared up firmly and jumped into the fray.

🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷

As the portal to your dimension closed behind you, silence fell. Michael's gaze was on the horizon, and yours was on him. It was not his red eyes that you caressed with your thoughts, but you could taste the sweetness of his cheek beneath your lips. His hair was shorter, but his curly eyelashes were thicker than yours: a feature that made you playfully envious in the past.

In the warm, brief light of the streetlamps, his face was just as beautiful. His bronze skin was a ghostly contrast to the impassivity of the bustling nightlife, a backdrop to his stern profile.

He looked at you too. And his pupils wandered over the arch of your lips, your eyebrows and cheekbones, the slope of your neck and your bare ears. And you thought he was reflecting the same doubt that plagued you: because he is Miguel, but not your Miguel. And you were never his wife, but your smile is the same, and he only replaced your name with silence, and the space he occupied with you was filled with melancholy.

"You did a good job." Miguel said after a prolonged silence.

"Thank you." You replied with a small smile. "You weren't so bad yourself."

"Hm." He snorted. With a hand on his hip, he arched an eyebrow and looked you up and down, half mocking, half stern. "Now you know what we're up against. You can run away now. We won't blame you. I certainly wouldn't."

You moistened your lips and took a slow breath. So close, your arm inches from his shoulder, you felt his warmth, the energy of his holographic suit, his solid build and musky scent.

"You wouldn't reach me." You finally replied, and your heart skipped a beat as a grin revealed his sharp fangs.

"I already did."

"I was distracted."

"Sure."

He straightened up, and you took advantage of the brief appraisal that he was giving to the red horizon to revel in his presence... just one more time.

In your solitude, his face is your guest. With his presence, an outdated image shatters beneath your feet. This new precision is yours. And even if he were to leave you that night, his voice muffled by the wind, Miguel would not leave you. His eyes would remain in the burning sunset and his posture in the steadiness of the stars.

When he looked back at you, your expression was already composed. Silently, you tilted your chin in the direction of the busy streets, and when he raised a questioning eyebrow, you spread your arms wide and threw yourself into the void.

Your mask returned to your face and your wings spread from your arms. Behind you you heard a faint scream and a short curse in Spanish. You felt, before you saw, his broad, imposing figure leaping from the edge of the building, and you used the air currents to move across the city with ease.

The buildings blurred at the edge of your vision. Though your mask filtered out the piercing whistle of the air, you still felt the pressure in your ears; and you didn't look at him, but felt his presence, imagining him dodging antennas, aerial surveillance and flocks of birds skimming skilfully across the crowded sky.

You locked arms and landed in a somersault, legs cramped and right hand braced against one of the buildings, halfway across a complex of tall glass towers.

"Look."

Below you, the city lit up like fireflies in the night. Thirteen hundred feet away, the cars and streetlights looked like tiny fiery wisps traversing the busy, colorful streets. And in the distance, the black silhouette of Alchemax stood out against the red horizon.

"I recognise this place." Miguel said, leaning over to stare in awe at a small purple-roofed shop on the side of the road. "It used to be a very popular artisan bakery in my universe."

"It's quite popular here too."

"I still have fond memories of their vanilla cake. I would get it for all... my events." He finished lowly.

"I used to buy the orange bread," you hummed understandingly, shaking your head disappointedly. "And now I can't eat citrus."

He looked at you in silence... and then laughed, shaking his head in astonishment, "Neither can I."

In the privacy of your mask, you smiled back. And with the first dark brushstroke on the horizon came your resolution.

"I can help you." You began, looking away from the night to stare at his cloaked profile. "But I will not be part of the Society."

He bowed his head, listening.

"I have work to do here." Your work at Alchemax; the company you were leading was just beginning to take a course that you could be proud of. Being Spider-Woman; a full-time job you couldn't give up: you were already the symbol of your city. An embodiment of hope, perseverance and goodness. "But... I understand that your work with the multiverse is an even more arduous and complex task, and I offer you my services as an advisor. If you ever need help... you know where to find me."

A hero must be impartial. And to you... his mere presence would be a constant challenge, an exercise in moral skill tested in the crucible of your everyday life. How could you not choose him? The strange man with your husband's voice. The friend whom you love the most, the one who lives in the moments of your delirium.

Because, after him, living seems distant. You have no anger left... only pain. And although your better judgment led you not to get involved with the Society, you could not find the strength within yourself to ignore him. Even though this Miguel is not yours, letting him go is almost like losing him again.

His mask pulled back and you watched him run a hand through his hair, tousling his auburn locks as he nodded slowly.

"I understand."

He stood to his feet. He held out a hand to you, and you followed as he took one last, searching look over your city.

He opened his mouth, then closed it. He seemed to hesitate for a moment. He gave you a long look, and in the end he just said:

"Then I'm counting on you."

You remained standing, staring at his silhouette, even as the portal swallowed his dark figure.

"What have I just gotten myself into?" you whispered into the empty air.

@alicefallsintotherabbithole @digipaw2-0 @sunshowernaps @qiaipia @luciiferian @saltyllamakidwombat @amnmich @autismsupermusicalassassin @miggyyyyohara @oscarissac2099 @songbirdlully

#marvel #miguel o'hara #atvs #miguel o'hara x oc #miguel o'hara x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #oscar isaac #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #spiderman atsv #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #itsv #spiderman itsv

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chickensarentcheap · 2 months

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Lost and Found- Chapter 29

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. You do not have to read the original series to understand this fic)

Warnings: slight profanity

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @munstysmind @themaradwrites @thebejeweledwatercat @youflickedtooharddamnit @asirensrage @residentdormouse @secretaryunpaid @alisbackalleybbq @kmc1989 @karimac @ninjasawakenedmystar @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @occommunity @theesirenteller @fanficanatic-tw

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/138016519

My tag list is OPEN. Just let me know if you'd lke to be added :D

****

It’s exactly how she remembers it. A quaint, three-bedroom home perfect for a young, growing family; antique blue board and batten with a vibrant, mustard yellow front door and a deep, wide porch that wraps around one side of the structure and connects with the deck in back. A fenced-in rear yard ideal for pets and children; enough open land for gardens and play structures and even a pool. Mere blocks from the small downtown core and open-air market; located close to schools and parks and only a ten-minute drive to the beach. The latter had been the ultimate selling point; as close to the ocean as they could get within their price range. Things had been different then; both financially struggling after never receiving full payment from Mahajan, but still having to worry about a stack of hospital bills and various debts.

There’d been no reason to live above their means; content with something small that they could personalize and make all of their own. Add onto if a bigger family was in the cards; firmly settling on having at least one baby, but not fully sold on anything more than that. Being a father again scared him; the guilt and the regret surrounding the death of his son and the decision he’d made in the final weeks still weighed heavily on his mind and soul. And she’d known not to push the subject no matter how much she desired something more; needing to give him the space to not only wrestle with and defeat his demons but build up his confidence when it came to raising another child.

Wick had picked them up at the airport. Twelve days following their desperate escape from New York, and ten since he’d flown to Broome to keep his eyes open and an ear to the ground. After assisting Alcott in identifying -and quickly eliminating- any possible threat, he’s confident that things are secure and no dangers lie in wait; free to return to the States and his commitment to helping Nik destroy any remaining threat on the front line. He looks healthier and more well-rested than Esme can previously remember; casually dressed in a pair of olive green cargo shorts and a simple white t-shirt. His eyes are more vibrant, the bridge of his nose and his cheeks sunkissed. And it's a welcome departure from the usual; the sullenness replaced by a genuine smile and unmistakable glow.

She glances at Millie; fastened in her car seat in the back of the SUV, safe and secure between her mom and dad. Father and daughter both asleep and in the same positions; heads tilted back and to the right, their arms folded across their chests, mouths slightly open as they quietly snore. Their cheeks flushed; sweat glistening at their temples and napes of their necks, wayward strands stuck to their brows. The last two weeks finally catching up to them; the hours spent travelling, the stress, fear, and worry that had weighed heavily upon them, the shared shock and surprise of finding out about one another’s identities and roles in the other’s life. And the dangerous and unpredictable flight from New York City and the two weeks spent at Nik’s while longing for home.

As Wick kills the engine, she tends to Millie, gently cradling her face in her palms and peppering her brow and cheeks with feathery kisses. Repeatedly brushing the tip of her nose against Millie’s until the four-year-old gives a sleepy giggle and a breathy, ‘Momma’; eyes flickering open as she plants a noisy kiss on Esme’s lips.

“Time to get up, little bug. We’re finally here.”

“Home?”

Esme nods.

“Our forever home?”

“Our forever home. Well, unless we one day need a bigger one. Come on…” Unbuckling the car seat’s harness, she lifts Millie onto her lap. “You’re getting big, lovey. Soon I won’t be able to pick you up at all.”

“I’m big like daddy!”

“You definitely are. I always knew you would be; even when you were in my belly and I used to get sneak peeks of you at the doctor. You were long and lanky even then. Now…” She clears sweaty hair away from Millie’s cheeks and out of her eyes.. “...wake daddy up. Tell him we’re here.”

She scrambles off her mother’s lap and onto Tyler’s; her stomach pressed against his chest, a knee beside either hip. And taking his face in both hands, gently shakes his head from side to side. “Daddy! It’s time to get up! We’re here now! No more sleep!” Upon receiving no response, she aggressively taps her palms against his cheeks, then scowls at her mother. “I think he’s dead.”

“He’s not dead. You can see that he’s breathing. Sometimes, he’s a really heavy sleeper. Or maybe he’s ignoring you.”

“You might ignore you, but not me. Never me.”

“Excuse you?”

“Daddy!” Millie bellows into his ear, then tugs at his beard, followed by his ears. “You have to get up! No more sleep! It’s time to wake up and…” She shrieks when his fingers lightly dig into her sides and he begins gently tickling her, dissolving into giggles when he tips her sideways across his lap and repeatedly brushes his beard against her cheeks. And she’s breathless and hiccuping when he once more settles her upright on his thighs, her tiny hands cradling his cheeks in their palms. “It’s time to get up!”

“Says who?”

“Me! And momma!”

You guys aren’t the boss of me.”

“Yeah, right!”

“Why do I need to get up? Can’t a guy get his beauty sleep?””

“You can go back to sleep later! We’re finally here, daddy! We’re home! It’s time to wakey-wakey, shakey-shakey!”

“What if I don’t want to wakey-wakey, shaky-shakey?”

“Too bad! When momma says it’s time to get up, it’s time to get up! Remember, she’s the boss, applesauce!”

“Sure she is.” Placing a kiss on Millie’s temple, he settles her sideways on his lap; palm smoothing over her messy hair as she presses her face against the window and studies her surroundings. “What do you think of it so far?”

“I love it! I love the colour! Especially the front door! I LOVE yellow. It’s a great use of colour, dad. You know what they say? That EVERY house deserves a pop of colour.”

Tyler arches a quizzical brow at Esme. “Whose they?”

She gives a sheepish grin. “People on television. We watch a lot of Home and Garden Network.”

“Especially in the winter,” Millie adds. “When it’s too cold to go outside. Or there’s a snowstorm and we’re stuck in the house.”

“So you think it’s an alright place? That you’ll be happy here?”

“Of course, I’m going to be happy! It’s home. It’s where mommy and daddy are. It can’t get any better than that. But…”

“Uh oh…”

“You know what it needs? More colour. It needs flowers. To up the curb appeal.”

“Are you going to be a real estate agent when you grow up?”

“Nope.”

“Interior decorator?”

“Hell no! I’m going to be the person who builds the house. With my own hands!”

“That’s my girl.”

Esme winces in discomfort as she reaches across her body to unbuckle her seat belt. “Funny thing is, that’s what your daddy does. That’s one of his REAL jobs. He even owns his own business. He might not build houses from the ground up, but he helps make people's places bigger and better.”

“But I thought your job was kicking ass.”

“It is. Just not all the time. Only when Auntie Nik really needs my help.”

“So you have two lives. Two ‘yous’.”

“Yeah. I guess you could put it that way. The ‘me’ that was in New York City? Taking care of business? That’s the me that I don’t have to be very often anymore. The ‘all the time’ me? I help people in a different way. I make their houses bigger and nicer, I put up fences and decks, I build garages and sheds and even furniture sometimes.”

“Can you build a treehouse? I always wanted a treehouse.”

“Millie, I can build you whatever you want. Or at least I can try.”

“You know what his other job is? He’s a fireman.”

Her eyes widen. “Shut the front door!”

“It is. That’s the job I do the most. I won’t be going back for a while though; I’ve got a lot of time off to spend with you and your mom. That’s all that’s important right now. That you guys are safe and taken care of. And that the three of us get to be together. Get used to being a family.”

“Being a firefighter is crazy dangerous! And scary!”

“It can be.”

“Momma’s right! You ARE super brave!”

“I like to think I am. Sometimes, anyways.”

“She told me you’re the bravest person she’s ever known. And the strongest.”

Reaching behind Millie, he gently and lovingly tugs on Esme’s hair. “Yeah, well your mum is biassed.”

“Her mum tells the truth.”

“You’re our hero, Daddy. You’re brave and you’re strong and you keep us safe from the bad guys. We don’t have to worry about them when you’re around. ‘Cause you’ll do anything to stop them from even coming near us, never mind hurting us.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you or your mumma. You’re my girls. All that matters to me is the two of you.”

“And Lucy.”

“DEFINITELY Lucy. She’s one of my girls, too. Actually, she’s the ORIGINAL girl; I had her before I even met your mumma.”

“Mumma says she’s a really good doggo. A super smart one. I can’t wait to meet her. I hope she’ll like the toys and treats I picked out for her. And I hope she LOVES me.”

“I know she will. And she’s going like having a little sister; someone to play with and chase around and sneak her food under the table. She’ll be like a puppy again, just you watch.”

“I just hope she loves me. ‘Cause I already know I love her. So if she doesn’t feel the same about me, I’m going to be crazy sad. I’m going to…”

Her voice trails off as begins bouncing up and down on his lap; banging her palm against the window when Alcott steps out onto the front porch; flashing that dazzling and waving enthusiastically at her. And she squeals “Uncle Duey!” before Tyler pops open the door; not waiting for it to fully open before she’s slipping out of the vehicle and scurrying up the front walk.

Alcott is on the middle step when she launches herself towards him; his deep, rich chuckle and her piercing, musical giggle floating on the air as he effortlessly catches her and tosses her above his head. Once, twice. Before tucking her into his chest and showering her temples, forehead and cheek with kisses.

Esme pauses with her hand on the door handle. “I know it’s hard for you; seeing how close she is to everyone. The fact they got to be part of her life long before you did. And I’m sorry that it hurts you so much. I’m sorry for so MANY things.”

“I don’t need you to be sorry. We’ve moved past that. I don’t need constant apologies.”

“But…”

“I don’t need them,” he forcibly repeats, then lays a hand on the back of her head and pulls her into him; lips meeting her brow. “And it’s not as bad now. It doesn’t hurt as much. I’m starting to look at it differently. How I’m actually very lucky. You and Millie had these people around; watching out for you, loving on you and keeping you safe. Until I finally got the chance to do it.”

“I just wish I’d given you that chance sooner. I’m sorry I…”

“No more of that word, okay? There’s no need for it.” He’s mindful of the still tender line of stitches embedded in her scalp as he pushes his finger through her hair; hand cupping the back of her head when he kisses her. pushes his fingers through her hair, mindful of the still tender line of stitches embedded in her scalp. “Not anymore.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“So good to me? After everything I’ve done. After hurting you like I did…”

“I love you.” The answer is short and sweet. Honest. “I always have. I always will.”

Her lower lip and chin tremble as she struggles to hold back her emotions.

“None of that, okay? No crying. There’s no reason to cry. There’s been enough of that. And I don’t want this; you holding onto all of this…stuff. I forgive you. Now it’s time for you to forgive yourself. Or at least work on it.”

“How the tables have turned, huh? I remember saying almost those same words to you. About Austin. About how he forgave you. For what you did. And that it was your turn. To forgive yourself.”

“And I got there. Eventually. You will too. You’re not alone in this. You’ve got me. Millie. We’ll help you through it. Now…” Turning and reaching for the door handle, he’s stopped when she snags him by the back of his t-shirt and pulls him towards her. A hand on his cheek as she kisses him; long and soft and slow. A grin tugging at the corners of his mouth when he pulls away. “What was that for?”

“I need a reason to kiss you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Have you ever considered that I enjoy kissing you?”

“Have you ever considered you have crappy taste in men?”

“My taste in men is impeccable, thank you very much. Or at least it became impeccable when I met you.”

Smirking, he presses a kiss on her brow. “Sweet talker. Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Yeah, you’re always up for a good, old-fashioned, ego-stroking.”

“And a good stroking of something else,” he teases, giving her a playful wink and then opening the car door and stepping out. Offering Alcott a nod in greeting before heading to the opposite side of the vehicle and assisting Esme; a protective hand on the small of her back as he leads her up the front walk. “You gonna be alright the rest of the way? While I give Wick a hand with all the stuff?”

“I’ll be fine,” she assures him, standing on her tips with a hand upon his chest as he leans down to kiss her.

“I worry.”

“I know you do. And in a strange little way, it makes you a million times sexier. Which is hard to grasp considering you’re already the sexiest man alive.”

“You and your shit taste in guys.”

“I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, my taste has become impeccable.” Smoothing her palms down the front of his t-shirt, her hand settling on his hips; eyes closing as she rests her forehead upon his chest. “I love you, you know.”

Smiling, he cups the back of her head in his palm and leans down to kiss her temple. “I know.”

****

Alcott greets her with a smile as he holds a squealing and giggling Millie upside down by her ankles. “Well there’s a sight for sore eyes.”

“Emphasis on the word ‘sore’.”

“You’re going to be feeling it for a while. To be honest, I’m surprised you’re doing as well as you are. That you’re even up and at ‘em.”

“It was now or never, I guess. Nik was getting tired of me; I was only a couple of days away from being evicted.”

“Look at mommy’s toe nails!” Millie calls out, as her fingertips swipe at her mother’s feet. “I did those! Watermelon pink! Mine match!”

“You’re going to make her throw up,” Esme warns. “Or pee her pants. She had a huge drink in the car before falling asleep.”

“I might do both!” The four-year-old announces. “I had a cherry and vanilla Coke slurpee! Daddy and I shared it, but I drank the most! Now I got the burps!”

“Guess your mum will be cleaning a hell of a mess off the steps, won’t she.”

“More like her father would have to clean it up. So let’s spare him the horror, okay? Blood and guts he can handle. THAT? He’ll likely toss his cookies too.”

(Millie hiccups as Alcott returns her to an upright position and settles her on his hip. “Daddy doesn’t like barf. I almost hurled on the plane and he nearly had a panic attack.”

Standing on her tiptoes, Esme straightens and tightens her daughter’s pigtails. “We don’t need to give away all of his secrets. Why don’t you run over and help daddy and Uncle John with some stuff? Grab your backpack and Lucy’s toys and treats. I’ll take you to meet her in a few minutes.”

“You just want to talk to Uncle Duey in private. I know your tricks, mom.”

“Well, there’s some things we need to discuss that little ears don’t need to hear.”

“What kind of things?”

“Adult things. That you…young miss…don’t need to be part of.”

“Are you going to hang out for a bit, Uncle Duey? Are you going to stay for supper? We haven’t eaten yet and I’m getting really hungry and I really want you to stay. Will you?”

“If your mum and dad don’t mind having an extra mouth to feed.”

“Are you going to sleep over? Visit for a bit? ‘Cause that would be really cool! Maybe we could even make a tent in my new room!”

“Tell you what, I’ll stay for a few days. So we can hang out. BUT, I’m going to stay at a hotel; so you and your folks can have privacy. You’re a family now; you need to concentrate on THAT.”

“I finally have a daddy. And not just ANY daddy, but my REAL daddy! The daddy that helped make me. Who put me in mom’s tum! How cool is that?! That I’d get my actual daddy in the end?!

Alcott presses a noisy kiss on Millie’s cheek before setting her on the ground, a hand resting on the top of her head. “You know, I think you’re a very lucky little girl. That you have the dad AND mum that you do. Because no one…in this world…could love you more than they do. You’re going to have a long and happy life, my little Amelia. With BOTH of them.”

“Daddy said that when something is meant to be, it always finds a way. He said that’s why mummy needed his help; because they were meant to be together. Do you think that’s true?”

“I think when two people love each other…REALLY love each other…they’ll find their way back to one another. Doesn’t matter how long it takes or how many obstacles are in the way, if they’re meant to be together, they will be. That’s what happened with your mum and dad. Although I do question her standards and her taste in men. Because if you ask me…”

“You know, you can be super duper cute, Uncle Duey. And really romantic.”

“You know, I have my moments. But let’s keep that between us. Our little secret. I have a reputation to keep.”

“Of being a big-time ass kicker!”

“Exactly.” Offering a closed fist, Millie bumps it with her own. “Now, you go.” Laying a hand on the top of her head, he gently steers her towards the stairs. “Listen to your mumma. Go and grab your things. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“A very nice one.”

“What is it?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise. And you can’t have it until you do what you're told; go and lend a hand and grab your stuff. Then you can meet Lucy and…”

“And then I get my surprise!”

“Exactly!”

“This is the best day ever!” Giving his leg a tight squeeze, she hurries for the stairs and then jumps from the landing; landing effortlessly on her feet and rushing off towards the car. Calling out for her dad and her uncle John; giggling when she’s teased and Wick playfully pulls on one of her pigtails; her high-pitched, exuberant voice floating on the breeze as she busies herself with helping pull bags from the trunk.

Grinning, Alcott shakes his head. “She’s…”

“A handful? Believe me, I know.”

“She seems to be adjusting alright. To this new life of hers. Seems excited to be here, that’s for sure.”

“The last forty-eight hours, she’s done nothing but go on and on about Australia. About how she can’t wait to live here. About taking beach trips and going fishing; learning how to ride a bike, going to school and making friends. It’s ALL she’s talked about.”

“She’s been through a lot. It hasn’t been the easiest of three weeks, that’s for sure. Bad enough on all of us, never mind a wee one. How have things been? Since she found out? About her dad?”

“Everything’s been great. Better than I thought it would be; I thought it would take her a lot longer to adjust to the whole thing and to forgive me for keeping him a secret. But it’s like he’s been part of her life forever. Like she’s never known anything different. She adores him. Wants to be around him constantly.”

“The best part of that is that she loved him before she even knew that he WAS her dad. How’s he been? With her?”

“Amazing. He really had to step it up after New York City; I sort of just threw him to the wolves. But he did it; despite all the pain he was in and constantly worrying about me and trying to take care of me. He just did what he had to do. Spent nearly every waking moment with her.”

“As much as what happened sucks for you, it was probably what was best for them. It gave them that time; to be completely alone and invested with one another. Gave them a chance to learn about one another. Without anyone else interfering.”

“As much as my body wishes it could get on board with that, it’s just not having it. How have things been here?”

“Quiet. For the most part.”

“For the most part, huh? I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

“Just a couple of people snooping. Coming around where they had no reason to be. Wick and I took care of them.”

“Took care of them as in…”

“As in they won’t bother you…or anyone else…ever again.”

Sighing heavily, Esme crosses her arms over her chest, hands rubbing at her biceps.

“Hey…” Hooking a finger under her chin, Alcott tilts her face up towards him. “...everything is fine. You’re safe here. Wick and I took care of things on our end, now all Nik has to do is handle things on hers. It’ll be over soon. For good.”

“God, I hope so.”

She glances over her shoulder as Millie and Tyler make their way towards the house. The latter gently suggesting that their offspring make multiple trips to and from the car, while Millie insists -despite the knapsack on her shoulders, gift bag over her wrist, and the top of a pile of small boxes cradled in her arms reaching her eyebrows- that she’s stronger than she looks and can see ‘just fine’.

“You know….” Esme turns back to Alcott, body leaning into his when he drapes an arm across her shoulders. “...I’ve waited five years for this. To be with him again. I have missed him; every second of every day. I spent four wondering what it would be like; to have him in her life and see them together and hear her call him ‘daddy’. Now it’s happening; it’s all RIGHT HERE. And I am so overwhelmed. With everything I’m feeling.”

“In a good way, I hope.”

“In a very good way. This is all I ever wanted. HE’S all I ever wanted. Everything we talked about…everything we planned together…it’s all finally happening. In this place. That we bought together. And that I never spent a single night inside. It’s a lot, you know? To unpack. And I’m so scared that something…someone…is going to take this all away from me.”

“That’s why you…BOTH OF YOU…need to get out of this life. And stay out of it. Once this is all over, you need to walk away for good. Or something bad WILL happen.”

“I’m ready for that. More than ready. I finally have everything I want. WHO I want. I want to be a wife and a mother. I want to share my bed with the same man every night for the rest of my life. Kiss the same man good morning EVERY morning. I want to make cookies for school bake sales and cheer Millie on while she plays soccer and watch her learn to surf. I want to have another baby. Or two. Or three. I am so ready. For ALL of that.”

“But?”

“I’m worried that he won’t be able to walk away. Or stay away. Not for good. I’m worried he’s always going to be tied to that life somehow. That it will somehow find a way back into our lives. Take him away from us.”

“Have you mentioned all this? Talked to him about it?”

“I haven’t exactly had the chance. I spent a week in and out of consciousness, and another five days trying to build up enough strength just to do shit like feed myself and get myself to the bathroom. There was never a good time to bring up something like THAT.”

“You need to. Just get it all out in the open. Let him know what you’re worried about, what you’re afraid of, all of that. Because it won’t do any good keeping that in. You need to say it. And he needs to hear it.”

“You know what my fear is? My worst nightmare? That he’ll take a job and go somewhere thousands of miles away and something horrible will happen to him. That I’ll lose him. Permanently. And he’ll be stuck there; I won’t have any way of getting him out there and bringing him home.”

“Esme…”

“I couldn’t deal with that. I just couldn’t. I’d never survive it.”

*****

Esme slowly approaches the couch; a sprawled-out Lucy regarding her with wide eyes and her head tilted to the side. While Millie trails a few steps behind, she crouches down in front of the sofa and offers a soft, calm smile.

“Hey girl…hey Lucy…” She holds out the back of her hand to sniff, the dog’s nose wet against her skin. And as recollection of a long lost and missed scent begins to creep in, Lucy’s tail begins to thumb energetically against the cushions. “...do you remember me? It’s been a long time, huh? I missed you. So much.”

The thumping of the tail continues, now accompanied by a butt wiggle and a soft yet happy whimper as Lucy wriggles closer. “Yeah…you remember. We were besties. We did so much together. I’m so sorry…” Ruffling the fur at the nape of Lucy’s neck, Esme then strokes the dog’s ears and scratches under her chin “...that I just up and left like that. I never meant to abandon you.” She leans in to press a kiss to Lucy’s nose. “Thank you, sweet girl. For keeping him company. And keeping an eye on him. Until I could get back to doing it.”

Swiping at loose tears with the back of her hand, she reaches for Millie.“I have someone I want you to meet. Someone I love very much. I had a baby while I was gone. And this is her…” Drawing her daughter to her side, she lays a hand on the top of the little one’s head and presses a kiss to her temple. “...isn’t she beautiful?”

“Hi Lucy…” Millie offers her hand for a sniff. “...I’m Millie. Well, my name is really Amelia, but I like Millie better. Everyone calls me that. I’m going to live here now; with you and my momma and my daddy. That makes us sisters. ‘Cause we have the same mom and dad. Just they adopted you and I was in momma’s tummy.” She giggles when Lucy licks her hand, then slides forward and swipes at her chin with her tongue. “I think she likes me!”

“Why don’t you show her what you got for her? I’m sure she’d love to see.”

“I got you some goodies.” Millie holds aloft a neon pink gift bag, filled with white tissue paper. “Some toys and some treaties. See…” Dumping the contents out onto the couch, she arranges them neatly in their respective groups; food in one pile, play objects in the other). “...I got you all different kinds of stuff. Squeaky balls, rope toys, ones you can chew on, a cool tug of war one that we can play with together! I’ll let you pick which one you want to play with first.”

“I think she’s more interested in learning about you right now.”

“Can I give her some treats? Do you think that’s okay? That daddy won’t mind?”

“He won’t mind at all, believe me. Here…” Selecting one of the bag of treats -duck flavoured- she tears it open; dumping a handful of the small ‘cookies’ into Millie’s palm. “...these are her favourites. Hold your hand out and let her take a sniff. She’ll decide if she wants them or not.”

“She won’t eat my hand, will she?”

“Lucy’s the last dog on earth that would do something like that. She might kiss you to death or you might pass out from her stinky doggy breath, but she’s a lover, not a fighter. The goodest good girl. Aren’t you, Luce?” She smoothes a hand over each of Lucy’s ears and the scruff of her neck, kneading lightly at the fur as Millie offers the treats in her palm. The dog briefly sniffing before hurriedly -and exuberantly- gobbling them up. Causing the four-year-old to dissolve into giggles when the nibbling at her palm turns into enthusiastic lapping at her chin and cheeks. “I knew she’d like you. What’s not to like?”

“We’re going to be besties!” Millie declares, and tosses both arms around Lucy’s wriggling body. “Aren’t we Lucy?!

Tyler’s hand falls on Esme’s shoulder as he joins them. “How’s things down here?”

“Good,” she smiles up at him. “Very good. I think it’s safe to say that Lucy and Millie like each other.”

“We don’t just like each other!” Millie declares, as she lies on her back on the couch; Lucy between her splayed legs, the dog’s stomach pressed against hers. Lucy panting and her tongue lolling out of her mouth as her new friend enthusiastically scratches at the ‘sweet spots’ behind her ears. “We LOVE each other!”

“That’s ‘cause Lucy has great taste. Don’tcha girl.” Tyler reaches down to knead the back of the dog’s neck. “Now I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re going to have to share me now. We’ve got extra people in the house. Extra b…”

Esme scowls up at him.

“Ladies. I was going to say LADIES.”

“The hell you were.”

“You know I’m just joking. Trying to get a rise out of ya. Although after the past ten days, I wouldn’t mind if YOU were trying to get a rise out of ME.”

She gives a derisive snort and a roll of the eyes. “You are too much.”

His fingers curl around her bicep when she starts to stand; helping her to her feet before his palm moving to the small of her back as she leans into him. Her body leaning into his as his lips meet the top of her head.

“You guys finished? Get everything inside?”

“Just put everything upstairs for now. We can tackle it later. Or tomorrow. Or whenever. There’s no rush.”

“So…” Alcott takes the stairs two at a time. Enthusiastically clapping and rubbing his hands together as he addresses Millie from the bottom landing. “...who’s ready for their surprise!”

“I am! I’ve been ready since you told me! But…” She nuzzles the top of Lucy’s head with her nose. “...can Lucy come and see it too?”

“The more the merrier. This is definitely a family thing.”

Sliding out from under the dog’s body, Millie jumps to her feet; patting the side of her leg and calling for the dog to follow as Alcott leads the way out of the living room and down the hall. Pausing at the door that belongs to the small three-piece bath just off the kitchen.

“Right in here,” he says, and nods towards the door. “It’s waiting for ya.”

“In here?”

“In there. Go on.”

She reaches for the handle, then pauses. “What is it? What’s in there?”

“It’s a bathroom.”

“But what’s IN the bathroom?”

“Your surprise.”

“But what IS my surprise?”

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it? Go on. Go see what’s in there.”

Esme’s brows arch quizzically as she glances between Tyler and Alcott. “What are you two up?”

The latter grins. “Just a little something. That we thought would cheer her up, especially after the last couple of weeks she’s had. And we thought it’d help make this new life of hers even better.”

“And just what would make it better? What…?”

“Bea!” Millie’s scream is ear-piercing; bouncing off the ceiling and walls and echoing through the lower level of the house. “Oh…my Bea!” She drops onto her butt in the middle of the floor and scoops the cat into her arms, cuddling her tight to her chest as she sobs into the glistening black fur. A concerned Lucy hurriedly padding into the room; settling herself in a sobbing Millie’s lap as she licks at the tears that stream down the little one’s face. “...I missed you!”

“How?” Esme struggles to hold back her own tears. “How did you…?”

“I had someone bring her to me. Someone I could trust. To get her safely. And here she is. I couldn’t keep a little girl and her best friend apart, could I? It’d already been long enough.”

“This was all you wasn’t it?” Esme glances up at Tyler. “You made this happen.”

“It was my idea. But I had help. Getting it done.”

“I thought you weren’t a cat guy.”

“I’m not.” Smiling, he wraps around her and gatherers into his side. Leaning down to press his lips against her temple. “But I have a feeling this one will grow on me.”

****

It’s before eleven when Esme steps out onto the front porch with Wick, the wood smooth and cool under her bare feet; the light in the front room and a small battery-powered lantern on a small nearby table providing the only illumination. Alcott departed an hour before; needing to get back to his hotel to handle some ‘important business’ before retiring for the night, but not before promising Millie he’d be back to see her in the latter part of the morning. With exhaustion and calm quickly settling in, Tyler tends to tucking Millie into -at her insistence- the confines of her brand new, four-poster bed. A simple piece of furniture that signifies the start of the second bedroom’s transformation; pink and grey camo bedding, the rest of the space a blank canvas for her -with some guidance and help- to turn into her own little sanctuary.

As Wick lingers on the bottom landing, Esme remains at the top of the steps; gathering the sides of the oversized hoodie she sports and wrapping them around her petite frame. “You gonna stick around for a bit? Couple of days at least? Millie would love to spend some time with you. Now that we’re away from all that craziness. And who knows when she’ll see you again.”

“I already said my goodbyes. Or should I say my ‘see you laters’. She knows it won’t be long. Until we see each other.”

“Still, a couple of days would have been nice. Just to sit back and relax. Chat.”

“As much as I wish I could just take it easy, I really need to get back. To New York City. I told Nik I’d help tie up all the loose ends. And I need to meet Charon. We have some…business…to tend to.”

“Business as in Winston.”

He smiles coyly. “The less you know, the better.”

“Do you think the High Table will do anything? That they’ll handle him anyway? For what he did to Tyler? To Millie?”

“They’d be hypocrites if they didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“He broke their most important rule. The biggest one. They’ll forgive some things. Some missteps. But THAT?”

“He deserves to pay for what he did. He could have killed both of them. Taken everything away from me. Everything I had just gotten back. That I spent five years missing and longing for. Winston tried to take that from me. HIM from me. And for what? Some weird, sick ass obsession?”

“He had it in his mind that you were his to have. And to lose. Winston isn’t used to losing.”

“I was never his. I was never going to be. And I certainly never let him think it was a possibility.”

“I think he felt as if he could guilt into it. Being with him. Hold everything he’s done for you over your head. Manipulate you. Until you not only gave in, but gave him what he wanted. EVERYTHING he wanted.”

“Never would have happened. I’d already lived through one asshole gaslighting me for years. I wasn’t falling for it again. And if he had managed to take Tyler and Millie from me, I would have killed myself before it happened. Before EVER being with him.”

“How about we concentrate on the fact he DIDN’T manage to do it. That Millie and Tyler are safe.”

“I think about it every day, believe me. But I also think about how he can’t get away with this. As if it isn’t bad enough that he was so ready, willing, and able to kill Tyler, he was more than okay with taking Millie out in the process. A little girl girl. MY little girl. My baby. And I’m sorry, but he can’t get away with it. He just can’t.”

“And he won’t. I promise you. Winston will be taken care of. You don’t need to know how or at whose hand, but he will be. You just need to trust me.”

“I do. I DO trust you. You know I do. I trust you with my life. With Millie’s life.”

“Your part in all of this is over now. This life? The job? It’s time, Esme. For you to let it go. To just walk away. Not many people in this world get that chance. So you need to take it when you can. Because if you keep even on toe in this pound, you are going to get sucked back in. And this life will swallow you whole. You know it will.”

“It’s hard to walk away when there’s still unfinished business. When it’s so personal.”

“That business will be taken care of. You need to let other people handle it now. What you need to do is go inside and start over again. Start a new life. The one you always wanted. You’ve been given a second chance with Tyler. To be with him. Have a life with him. Make a family together. Do you know how many people wish they could get that? Who's lost someone and will never get them back? Who would love to be in your shoes right now?”

“I know it’s hard for you. To see it. Everything just playing out right in front of you. You can’t get Helen back. And believe me, if there was a way I could change that, I would.”

“I know you would. But you can’t. You can’t do that for me. But what you CAN do? You can make a life for yourself. A REAL life. You can make that man your husband and you can make more babies together and your little girl can have both her mother AND her father. You never wanted all of this. To be in this world. You were never planning on sticking with it for the long haul. Dying some god awful, bloody death like the rest of us.”

“You’re right,” she admits, leaning against the bannister with her arms crossed over her chest. “I didn’t want that. I didn’t plan on doing this forever. And I tried to get out. I DID get out. And then that adjudicator showed up and turned my entire world upside down. Ruined EVERYTHING. I didn’t want to get sucked back in. I was done. I had met someone. I was going to get married. I bought a house. We were planning on always and forever. But it didn’t work out that way, did it.”

“No. It didn’t. You had to wait longer for it. But at least it’s happening. At least you’re getting it.”

Sighing, she reaches up to tuck wayward strands of hair behind her ears.

Climbing the stairs, Wick takes her by the shoulders and turns her towards him. “You can’t bring Helen back. I wish you could. But you know what you can do? For me? You can get the fuck out of this life. And STAY out of it.”

“I’m trying. But knowing that Winston is still out there after what he did…”

“Winston will be handled. Whether it’s by me or Nik or someone else. It’s not your fight anymore. It’s time to let someone else do the heavy carrying. You’ve done enough.”

“It’s my family. That he tried to hurt. It’s my little girl and the love of my life and…”

“And both of them need you. Not the you that’s connected to the job. The you that’s connected to them. You have to let that Esme go. It’s time. You need to be the Esme that they want you to be. That they NEED you to be. They don’t need ‘job Esme’. They need wife Esme. Mom Esme. And you can’t tell me you don’t need that, too.”

“Of course I need it. I WANT it. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“It’s done. Your old life. Whatever battles are left, it’s up to other people to finish. And it’s up to you to trust them to do it.”

“That’s a little easier said than done.”

“You’ve trusted me before. Many times. Trust me now.”

“I’ll try. And me saying that is no slight on you. It’s just that this is close to home. So personal. To just hand it over, you know?”

“I know it is. But you have to do it. If not for yourself, for Tyler and Millie.” (lightly squeezes her shoulders and pulls her closer to him, lips meeting and lingering on her brow) “You’re going to be alright, kiddo. You’re safe. And we’re all going to keep it that way.”

“You’ll let me know how things go? In New York?”

“Once things are taken care of, I’ll call you. Like I said, the less you know, the better.”

“And call me when you get there? So I know you arrived safe and sound?”

Wick grins “Yes, mom.”

“Well, I AM a mom. Which technically makes me your ‘mom friend’, so…”

“Speaking of being a mom, you should go and do just that. Tuck your little one in. Give her a hug and a kiss. And a squeeze. From me.”

Smiling, she reaches up to sweep long strands of hair off his forehead and away from his eyes.

“Take care of each other. LOVE each other. And be happy. If anyone deserves that, it’s you.”

Swallowing around a lump of emotion, she stands on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around his neck) “Thank you. For everything. Millie’s alive because of you. If you hadn’t helped that night…”

“I owed you one. Had you not helped me, this whole mess never would have happened. Starting with that adjudicator.”

“One had nothing to do with the other. The adjudicator, Alessio and his family. It’s not connected.”

“One led to the other. Had you not helped me that night…gone against the High Table…the adjudicator would have never had a reason to track you down.”

“How about we just call it even? Because I can tell this isn’t an argument I’m going to get the high ground on.”

“You can’t win them all, kiddo. But you’ve won plenty, that’s for sure.”

“You will be back, right? Some day?”

“Some day.”

“Because you know you’re welcome here. That our door is always open. So don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Alright.” He gives her a final squeeze, then a kiss on the cheek. “You be good, Esme Drummond.”

“I will,” she promises, and then pulls away, using her fingertips to clear away the tears that manage to escape. Once more leaning against the bannister with her arms crossed over her chest, she watches him descend the steps and limp down the walk, heading for his car.“Hey!” She calls to him after he opens the door, causing him to pause before sliding behind the wheel. “I’ll see you soon, John Wick!”

He grins over the roof of the car. “Not unless I see you first.”

*****

She finds him in the master bedroom, standing at the side of the bed in nothing more than a pair of sweats that sit low on his hips. A duffle bag, one of Esme’s suitcases, and Millie’s wheeled Transformer case open in front of him; rummaging through them and throwing any dirty laundry into a pile near the closet. Clean clothing stacked on the bedside chair)

“Millie asleep?”

“Out like a light. Both Bea and Lucy are in there with her. All three are snoring.”

Sidling up beside him, she reaches into Millie’s suitcase. Closely inspecting a t-shirt to determine if it's clean or dirty. “She gets it from you, you know.”

“Her amazing good looks?”

“Her snoring.”

“So you’re saying she’s ugly? Which she also gets from me?”

“You damn well know that isn’t what I’m saying. She gets both her amazing good looks and her snoring from you. There. Are you happy?”

“I don’t snore.”

“Like hell you don’t.”

“I’m not taking criticism from someone who talks in their sleep. Who I can have full conversations with.”

“I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“You just did it last night.”

“What was I talking about?”

“I don’t know some guy. Tall, handsome, built like a brick house, had a huge dick. Apparently gave you the best orgasms you’ve ever had in your entire life.”

“Mmm.” She throws a sweater of Millie’s onto the dirty pile. “Must have been some random hook up in college.”

Tyler scowls.

“Baby, IF I was saying all that, it was obviously you I was talking about. Haven’t we had this conversation before? While I’ve been awake? About how you’re the first guy to achieve the previously impossible? It’s nice not having to rely on myself to get to the finish line.”

“You have dated some real losers, you know that?”

“Not that the list is lengthy by any stretch of the imagination, but yes, yes I have. And I married the biggest one of them all.”

“Maybe your second husband will be a step up.”

“I have a feeling he will be,” she chides and playfully smacks him in the stomach with a dirty sweater. “With some room left over for a little improvement.”

“A little? That’s an understatement.”

“I don’t know. I think he’s pretty perfect already. As is.”

Smiling, he leans down to drop a gentle kiss on the top of their head. “And you have the nerve to call me biassed.”

They work quietly and companionably side by side, and when Millie’s suitcase is finally empty, she moves it from the bed and sets it on the floor. Then takes a seat on the edge of the mattress; watching Tyler, as he continues to work.

“Wick get away alright?”

Esme nods. “Do you think he’s going to be okay? When he gets back to New York?”

“I don’t know. He’s gonna have a lot of big guns after him. Bigger and heavier than the ones that are going to be after me, that’s for sure. But, he’s been in that world a long time. Gone up against a lot of horrible people. And he’s still around to tell about it.”

“I’m worried. About him and Charon. When it comes to the whole dealing with Winston thing.”

“One thing they have on their side is that the High Table is after his ass, too. He broke their number one golden rule, yeah? Drew blood on Continental grounds. If they came after you for a lot less, I like to think they’d fuck him right up.”

“But he sits on the High Table. How willing are they going to be to punish one of their own?”

“You know more about them than I do. I was never caught up on that side of things. Not that I didn’t have a chance to be. It was offered to me. Working under them. More than once.”

“Not many people say ‘no’ to the High Table and get away with it. You’re one of the lucky ones.”

“Didn’t really save me, though. did it? They still found a way to ruin my fucking life.”

“Why didn’t you want to work under them? You could have taken jobs anywhere in the world. You didn’t have to focus on North America. You didn’t even need to step foot inside it at all. Why…?”

“Wasn’t my thing. All the rules, the politics, the bullshit. Less drama working for Nik. Only have one person telling me what to do and when to do it. Not a whole shit load.”

“You are kind of a lone wolf. You do prefer working alone.”

“I don’t know…” He over her, palms flat against the mattress for balance. “... I seem to remember a time I didn’t mind sharing the workload with a hot little brunette.”

“Just the one, huh? No others?”

“Just the one.” His lips briefly brush against hers. “The rest were blondes and redheads..”

Scowling, she places her hands on his chest and attempts to push him away.. “Oh fuck you, Tyler!”

Chuckling, he presses a kiss to her cheek and the side of her neck before returning to the task in front of him. She watches his hands as he works; strong enough to break bones and take a life, but capable of breathtaking tenderness. Long fingers and misshapen knuckles; various scars and imperfections that mar his skin. And his forearms; one of the features she’d immediately noticed when they first met. And she’s about to offer a cheeky comment when she notices the expression on his face; the darkened eyes and the furrowed brow.

“Part of you wishes you were there, doesn’t it.”

“Where?”

“New York City. Taking care of Winston yourself. Or at least helping.”

“I won’t lie, revenge is at the top of my list of wants.”

“Mine too. He can’t get away with it; trying to kill you, putting Millie in danger. It doesn’t seem fair that he could just walk away from it at all.”

“He won’t. There’s enough people out there making sure that won’t happen.”

“You’re not going to be one of them, are you? I’m not going to wake up in the morning and find out you took off in the middle of the night? Went back to the states to handle things yourself?”

“You’re not honestly asking me that are you? You can’t be serious.”

“I know how powerful revenge can be. And I know the lines that Winston crossed. Putting Millie in danger, the things he said about me in that basement, the…”

“I’m exactly where I need to be. Where I WANT to be. All that matters to me is keeping you and Millie safe. And if someone DOES decide to try something stupid and I’m not here…”

“You don’t think that’ll happen, do you? That Alessio will send someone? Or that Winston will track us down? You don’t…”

“I think you’re safe with me. You BOTH are.”

“I don’t doubt that. I know what you’re capable of. And I know you’d stop at nothing to protect us. But…”

“You and Millie are safe here. And I’m going to keep it that way. Do I know for sure they’ll send people? No. Would I put it past them? Also no. But I’m not worried. They can send all the people they want. They can send a goddamn army. I will destroy each and every one of them.”

She blinks at the brutal honesty and the anger in his voice; watching as he gathers up the empty suitcases and stashes them in the far corner of the room. Once more joining her, he drops heavily onto his back in the middle of the bed; a forearm over his eyes, his free hand reaching out to slip under both the hoodie and the tank she wears underneath. Calloused fingertips repeatedly skimming across the small of her back, travelling slowly from hip to hip.

Esme stretches out alongside him. On her side with a leg draped over one of his; her mouth placing a series of kisses along the line of his jaw and at the corner of his mouth before resting her head on his chest. Her eyes closed as her fingertips trace the various scars and tattoos that inhabit the right side of his torso. Unsure of how much time passes as they lay there; breathing in each other’s familiar scents, enjoying the warmth that radiates from one another’s bodies, relaxed by the sounds of their soft, rhythmic breathing.

He stirs against her; removing the forearm over his eyes and his palm moving to cup the back of her head. Thumb and fingers pushing through her hair to gently knead her skin, his lips meeting her brow.

“I thought we could just stay in the guest room. For now anyway.”

Esme frowns. “What’s wrong with in here?.”

“Delaney was in here. Right before I left for New York City.”

Reaching up, her hand briefly rests on the top of his head before her fingers push through the longer strands of hair.. “For what it’s worth, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Yeah, well it bothers me.”

Opening her eyes, she raises her head and places her chin on his chest, smiling up at him.

“In a couple of days we can head into town. Buy new stuff. Just start right from scratch. Make the room ours. No one else. Just you and me.”

“You know, oddly enough, I think that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Come on, give me some credit. I’ve had better moments than THAT.”

“I know it doesn’t seem like much to you, but for THAT to bother you? To not want to share what goes on in here with someone else? Just keep it between us? That’s pretty intense, babe. No one would expect that from a guy like you.”

“A guy like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know, the strong, silent type that’s capable of killing a man a thousand ways with his bare hands.”

“For your information, my hands can do a lot more than that.”

“Oh believe me…” She nuzzles the long-healed bullet wound on his neck with her nose, then runs the tip of her tongue along the lines of his tattoo. “...I know what those hands are capable of.”

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“You should know by now that you don’t have to put that much effort into it. If any.”

She giggles against his cheek, her hands shoving their way into his hair when he kisses her; the long, languid, and delicious movements of closed mouth upon closed mouth. A rough, calloused palm begins a slow exploration of her clothed body; travelling over dips and curves, lightly squeezing, softly cupping. And he both hears and feels her sigh into his mouth when he intensifies the moment; pulling away briefly to glide the tip of his tongue over her top lip before aggressively pushing its way way inside of her mouth. Eyes closing and a shiver passing through her when his mouth abandons hers in favour of finding her neck; gently suckling and nibbling at the skin as his free hand pulls open her hoodie and exposes his collarbone.

Her entire body arches off the bed when teeth, lips, and tongue slowly make their way from one shoulder to the other; violently shuddering when the scruff of his beard brushes against the skin just above the neckline of her tank top. Keeping one hand buried in his hair, the other explores the bulging and rippling muscles in his neck and shoulders; tracing scars and tattoos by memories until he moves further down the bed and she loses all contact. Body tension in anticipation when a lone finger slides up the hem of her shirt; the calloused tip gliding across her stomach and drawing a perfect circle around her navel. Toes curling and goosebumps invading her flesh when he aggressively pushes the fabric of her shirt up to the hollow of her throat; his mouth placing a trail of warm, moist kisses from the top of her belly button to the valley between her breasts. And he groans in annoyance and disappointment when she suddenly yanks at his hair, forcing him to look up at her.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Right now? Can’t it wait? I’m kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Right now,” she confirms, and he gives a sigh and rolls onto his side, hand pulling down her tank top, then settling on her stomach.

“We gotta do this fully clothed. Or I won’t hear a damn word you’re saying.”

“You’re half naked,” she points out. “How’s that fair?”

“I’m not as distracting as you are.” Pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, he uses a fingertip to clear strands of hair away from the sides of her face. “You okay? Is this something I need to worry about?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean…” She chews on her bottom lip. “No. You don’t need to worry. And yes, I’m alright.”

“What do you want to tell me?”

Rolling onto her stomach, Esme places her chin on his chest. “You have to promise you won’t laugh at me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s kind of weird. Silly. Well, at least to me, it is.”

“I would never laugh at you. Or make fun of you. Unless it was about your height.”

Giving a small chuckle, she uses the pad of her thumb to trace the scars on his left shoulder. One a military injury he’d suffered years before he’d met her, the other left from the surgery he’d endured after the nightmare in Dhaka. “It IS kind of embarrassing.”

“How short you are?”

“No.” She playfully tugs at the hair on the underside of his chin. “What I’m going to tell you.”

“I thought we got over that a long time ago; being worried about telling each other things. I’m the last person you should feel embarrassed around. I mean, you’ve seen me with a tube up my dick so I could take a piss. You used to help me to the bathroom when I was in the hospital. It doesn’t get much more embarrassing than that.”

“You might change your mind after you hear this.”

“It can’t be that bad.” Combing his fingers through her hair, his hand briefly settles on the nape of her neck, gently squeezing before sliding under the hem of her shirt and resting in the space between her shoulders. Fingertips tracing slow, repetitive circles over bare, smooth skin. Just tell me.”

Sighing, she scrapes a nail along his beard. “I’m nervous.”

“About what?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know. And it makes no sense. I have no reason to be. But I feel shy and awkward; like we’re some couple just fresh into a relationship. We spent a year together. We shared a life. A bed. We were planning to get married. We wanted to have babies. We bought a house.”

“Five years was a long time. To spend apart.”

“But it came so easily to us. When we were back together. We still had that vibe, you know? We still fit together. Like we were never even apart. At least that’s how it felt to me. There was no hesitation. Not anxiety. We just went back to the way we were. Or close to it, anyway. That’s how it was for me. It wasn’t for you?”

“It was. Which is kind of scary in its own way. It should have been awkward. Considering how things ended.”

“But it wasn’t. And DID things end? For either of us? I may have walked away and a lot of time may have passed, but was it ever REALLY over?”

“No,” he admits. “It wasn’t.”

“Look how easy it came back to us. In New York City. Yeah, there was a lot of hurt and anger and I dropped a whole load of shit into your lap, but..”

“There was nothing shit about it. You showing back, finding out about Millie…”

“...things were still there. Between us. We still loved each other. And it was like we went back to how we were. We were always comfortable with each other; we always talked about anything and everything and nothing ever felt complicated or strange. Not even those first days in Dhaka. Am I making any sense at all?”

Tyler nods.

“So why am I nervous now? Why do I feel like this awkward little schoolgirl who’s getting ready for her first hook-up? It’s silly, right? For me to feel this way?”

“I don’t know. I feel a little nervous, too.”

“Really?”

“It was different in New York City. A lot was going on; between us and with the job and Winston and his bullshit. We didn’t really have time to sit down and think about things. We barely had time to catch our breath, some days.”

“I don’t want you to think it’s a bad thing. How I’m feeling. Because it’s not. There could never be anything bad with us. It’s just overwhelming. Being here…in this place…with you.”

“Do you want to maybe get something else?” Looping hair behind her ears, he skims his knuckles over her cheek. The cuts and bruises nearly fully healed. “Put this place up for sale and…?”

“No. That’s the last thing I want. It’s not about you or this place. Not in a negative way, anyway. It’s just so surreal. That we’re actually here. I spent five years wanting this; missing you and wishing things could be different. And now they are. Somehow we found our way back here. To each other.”

“You’re not the only one that spent five years wanting that.”

“You feel it too, don’t you? How overwhelming it is? In this chaotic, beautiful way? I KNOW you feel it. Because I KNOW you. I know your heart, Tyler. I know how deeply you feel things. How POWERFULLY you feel them. So I know I’m not alone in this.”

“It is a little…” He chooses his words wisely. “...scary.”

“I don’t want to screw this up. I did that once. I don’t want it to happen again.”

“It won’t.” Fingertips glide up her back and over the nape of her neck, hand cupping the back of her head and pulling her towards him; lips meeting hers in a long, soft kiss. His eyes riveted on hers as he brushes the knuckles off his free hand over the swell of her cheek; following the line of her jaw before cupping her chin in his palm, his thumb grazing over her lips.

“I can’t lose you. Not when I just got you back. I can’t lose THIS. We’re finally getting what we wanted. What we planned. We get to raise Millie together. Make an amazing life. Have more babies. Grow old and gray together. And if something takes you out of the equation…”

“I’m not going anywhere. Nothing’s going to happen to me. This is it. Once the mess in New York has been cleaned up and things are finished for good, we don’t have to worry about that life ever again.”

“Promise? Promise me you won’t go back to that.”

“I won’t go back,” he vows and pulls her into another kiss. Longer and deeper, tinged with urgency and desperation. Hunger.

Instead of pursuing it, he wraps her in his arms and rolls onto his back. Lips meeting her forehead before she tucks her face into that safe, warm place between his neck and shoulder.

“You’re home now, Esme.” His hand once more slips up the back of her sweater and tank top, fingertips ghosting along the length of her spine. “Where you belong. Where you’ve ALWAYS belonged.”

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fanfic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction 2 #Extraction fanfic #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth #Tyler Rake x OFC #Esme Drummond #Esme Rake

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cloudtastrophie · 17 days

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A little headcannon tidbit based off of chapter 2 of @canarydarity 's ranchers baseball au <3

-----

St. Louis felt infinitely like home. Or, as close to home as Jimmy could get. Coming into the city from the Illinois side of the river made him sick to smell the air of his childhood backyard. To taste the dirt in his mouth as he, once again, lost against Grian at the diamonds. St. Louis was 10 times smaller than grand old New York, New York, but it was 10 times more welcoming. The drivers were calmer, the streets less full, the culture more laid back. It was a lazy city, sticky and slow like molasses in the early summer midwestern heat.

As the team bus rattled its way across the Eads Bridge, Jimmy felt Joel smack his arm, breaking his gaze away from the lazy flow of the Mississippi. “What in the bloody hell are they building?” Joel muttered, half standing to see over Tango’s shoulders across the isle. Tango looked as if he was about to burst out of the window, he was pressed so hard to the glass. He swiveled his head to look at Jimmy and Joel.

“You two haven’t heard? It’s been in every paper for weeks!” He was practically vibrating with excitement.

Jimmy shook his head and stood up taller to see what the fuss was about. By then, the whole team was ‘ooh and ahhing’ at the absolutely massive structure being built, right on the banks of the river.

“It’s going to be called the Gateway Arch. It’s probably going to be the biggest feat of engineering since the Empire State. Probably better than the Needle out in Seattle is going to be.” Jimmy raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on his lips. Since when did Tango have a special interest in engineering?

“I did a few months in an engineering class. Got me hooked, but numbers are easier to understand.” Tango explained, as if he had read Jimmy’s mind. Then he turned back around and continued to peer at the stories-tall cranes slowly moving into place, and the two wide, square beginnings of what would apparently become a feat of engineering. Jimmy didn’t really see the draw, but he leaned across Joel and the isle to Tango anyways.

“We should come back to see it once it’s finished.” Jimmy said, watching the construction site fade behind them. The Cardnial’s stadium appeared behind the looming Old Courthouse.

“I agree!” Tango replied, beaming. Jimmy didn’t care if he was 100 by the time the Arch was finished. He’d come back and see it with Tango when it was done.

------

hi worm i know you're reading this,,,ok I haven't had the energy (or time) to do any art for the baseball au but the brainrot has been stuck with me for DAYS. so I decided to write a little tidbit of how I imagined the ride into St. Louis for that game against the Cardnials. I have a lot of love for the city I grew up around so I really wanted to do something for it for you :) And if you're interested, here's some of the history I incorparated to make it feel more historically accurate! (i'm a cloested history buff, can you tell)

the st louis gateway arch began construction in 1963 technically, but I'm like 90% sure that there was soo much prep work done on the site before the actual construction, as there is a basement underneath it, and a huge walkway/viewing platform area, as well as the whole thing with the levee right on the Mississippi. I wanted to sort of figure out what that would look like in 1961 when the plans were being laid out. Also, the Arch is a certified national park, it's professional name being "St. Louis Gateway Arch National Park"

The Old Courthouse. UGH its one of my favorite buildings I've ever seen actually. Its so beautiful, and you can, from the road I'm writing them on, see Busch staduim looming behind it. The Courthouse also actually held the first two trials of the Dred Scott case, if you're into that kind of stuff.

The Eads Bridge. Also one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. It is the oldest bridge on the Mississippi and was constructed under the care of Andrew Carnagie. That bad boy is made out of actual authentic Carnagie steel. Sooo history rich. Pretty sure they actually held a parade with elephants once it was done. so that's cool

Oh, and Busch stadium. It wasn't called that way back when! And it looked much, much different than it does now. I'm honestly not sure what it was called in the 60's, but I'm sure most people called it Cardnial's stadium. It was a beautiful and massive stadium back then, and it still is now.

the seattle neetle was being constructed around the same time as the arch as well, which is why i had Tango say something about it LOL

And for funsies, here's a scorecard that I'm sure Tango would've recieved in 1961 from the stadium.

hope you enjoyed my little rant!! And if you made it to the bottom of this and you're not worm, I hope you enjoyed learning a little about st. louis today. :)

#tangotek #jimmy solidarity #rancher duo #team rancher #cloudy speaks too much #against all odds #baseball au #this is what i did instead of my final math project #this au is not mine!!#but you should go read against all odds guys #pls #trafficshipping

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beardedmrbean · 4 months

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A riot broke out in a historic Brooklyn synagogue when a group of rebellious Orthodox men tried to stop police and construction crews from filling in a secret tunnel they illegally dug to reach a closed-down women’s bath.

The enraged men, thought to be mostly in their teens and early 20s, were filmed tearing down wood panels and wooden support beams Monday at the Chabad-Lubavitch World Headquarters in Crown Heights.

Other footage from the temple on Eastern Parkway showed cops trying to hold back dozens of Hasidic Jewish men as they pushed their way into the 20-foot-wide enclosure underneath the women’s section, toppling over wooden pews in their anger.

Synagogue leader Rabbi Yosef Braun condemned those involved, saying they arrived “ready to destroy and deface the Holy Walls” — calling it “mind-boggling.”

Members of the Chabad-Lubavitch movement have reportedly been digging a tunnel under the Crown Heights synagogue for nearly a year.

It was apparently designed to reach an abandoned women’s mikvah — or ritual bath — around the corner and “expand” the synagogue, according to the Jewish outlet Forward, but it is unclear what motivated the members of the Chabad-Lubavitch community to start digging the passage.

The tunnel was finally discovered last month when neighbors reported suspicious noises coming from underneath their homes, Israel National News reports.

A video posted on CrownHeights.Info’s Instagram in December showed a dark, dirt-walled space in the recesses of the shuttered women’s mikvah nearby.

Following the discovery, the synagogue leadership called in structural engineers to assess the damage, and on Monday cement mixers arrived to fill it in — sparking the riot.

The Hasidic men appeared to use a hammer to break through the synagogue’s brick walls.

A few even managed to make their way into the makeshift tunnel, with video showing at least one man brazenly drinking out of a can inside the tunnel as cops tried to hold off the others who were trying to get inside.

Some of the rioters were also seen jeering at the cops and filming their efforts to get inside the tunnel, according to Forward.

Officers were also seen holding back men outside the 100-year-old synagogue, the headquarters of one of the largest groups of Hasidic Jews in the world.

After several hours, footage showed officers taking the men out of the tunnel in handcuffs.

At least a dozen men were taken into custody, sources told The Post. Ten received criminal misdemeanor charges, another was charged with obstructing governmental administration and one other received a summons for disorderly conduct, sources said.

No injuries were reported in the brawl.

Rabbi Braun urged other members of the Jewish community “to call them out in all possible ways and strong terms.”

Braun was horrified that they defaced the “shul,” or synagogue, saying to that “demolish and destroy a shul — never mind the dangerous aspect, never mind the religious aspect — it’s mind-boggling.

“They need to be put in their place, put in their place in so many meanings of the word,” he said.

The riot came amid ongoing disputes over who legally owns the property.

In a statement following the altercation, Chabad-Lubavitcher Rabbi Motti Seligson noted that the movement has “attempted to gain proper control of the premises through the New York State court system.”

“Unfortunately, despite consistently prevailing in court, the process has dragged on for years.”

Still, he too condemned the actions of the young men who brawled with the police, branding them “extremists” and saying their actions have forced the city to temporarily close the building pending a structural safety review.

“This is, obviously, deeply distressing to the Lubavitch movement and the Jewish community worldwide,” he wrote on X.

“We hope and pray to be able to expeditiously restore the sanctity and decorum of this holy place.”

Rabbi Yehuda Krinsky, the Chabad-Lubavitch chairman, also issued a statement thanking the NYPD for its assistance.

“The Chabad-Lubavitch community is pained by the vandalism of a group of young agitators who damaged the synagogue below Chabad Headquarters,” he said.

“These odious actions will be investigated and the sanctity of the synagogue will be restored.

“Our thanks to the NYPD for their professionalism and sensitivity,” he continued. “We are grateful for the outpouring of concern, and for our Chabad Lubavitch institutions around the world.”

#nunyas news

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nycerny · 1 year

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Structural engineering is one of our core competencies, stemming from our initial beginnings more than 6 years ago. From construction engineering design including: sheathing, shoring, excavation, foundation, underpinning to complex scaffold system design, calculations, and non-destructive materials’ testing, we do it all! Our engineers have decades of experience with planning and designing new building construction plans as well.

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rasengineeringpa · 4 months

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Unveiling the Hidden Potential: Facade Inspection Engineering

Facade inspection engineering plays a pivotal role in ensuring the safety and longevity of a building. By analyzing the facade's components, such as exterior walls, windows, doors, and cladding systems, engineers can assess any potential structural issues or vulnerabilities. Detecting cracks, dislocations, or deformation early on can prevent major problems from occurring, such as collapses and costly repairs.

#Local Law 11 Inspection #Facade Inspection San Francisco #Milestone Inspection Florida #Structural Integrity Reserve Study #Energy Audit San Francisco #Building Recertification Florida #Facade Inspection Jersey City #SB 4-d Milestone Inspection #Energy Audit New York #Structural Recertification #Structural Safety Inspection Engineer #Exterior Wall Inspector New York #Facade Inspection Engineering #Building Structural Recertification #Facade Inspection New York #Exterior Walls And Enclosures Inspection Chicago #Parking Structure Inspection #Structural Inspection New Jersey

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lukasnovo · 24 days

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Today it's 60 years anniversary of the opening of the 1964 World's Fair in Flushing Meadows! ⁠ ⁠ Excerpt from Modern New York:⁠ (..)The largest, tallest, and most fun was the NEW YORK STATE PAVILION by Philip Johnson, Richard Foster, and engineer Lev Zetlin. The pavilion’s main section was the elliptical Tent of Tomorrow, which was covered by a multicolored translucent roof suspended from 100-foot columns. The Texaco New York State paper map was recreated in colorful terrazzo paving. The map captured the spirit and dynamism of the age and was one of the first large-scale pieces of public Pop Art.⁠ ⁠ Another fair structure that still stands is the PORT AUTHORITY BUILDING (now Terrace on the Park). It had a heliport on its roof where choppers brought fair attendees from local airports as well as Manhattan. Below the landing deck was a thousand-seat restaurant with an expansive view of Queens. The building now survives as a catering hall. (..)⁠ ⁠ Overall visitor numbers were low, due in part to high prices and because out-of-towners might have been frightened by the widely publicized Harlem Race Riot of 1964. Also, with the world coming closer because of air and automobile travel—not to mention the popularity of television—there might have been a feeling that fairs like these were antiquated, and the event was the last of its kind, in New York City at least. ⁠ ⁠ A record crowd of 446,953 showed up for the closing day, which turned into a frenzied hunt for souvenirs. Elegant ladies dug up flowers and carried them away in their hats. Everything from saltshakers to Egypt’s statue of King Tut was stolen or smashed. It was a frightening end to an era.⁠

#1964 #new york

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visit-new-york · 8 months

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Can you see the Statue of Liberty from the Brooklyn Bridge?

The Brooklyn Bridge, an iconic symbol of New York City, is a marvel of engineering and a popular destination for both locals and tourists. With its breathtaking views of the Manhattan skyline and the East River, many visitors wonder if it offers a glimpse of another symbol of freedom – the Statue of Liberty. In this article, we will explore the truth behind the question: Can you see the Statue of Liberty from the Brooklyn Bridge?

The Geography of the Harbor:

Before diving into the specifics, it's crucial to understand the geography of New York Harbor. The Statue of Liberty stands proudly on Liberty Island in the Upper New York Bay, while the Brooklyn Bridge spans the East River, connecting the boroughs of Manhattan and Brooklyn. The distance between the Brooklyn Bridge and the Statue of Liberty is approximately two miles, creating a natural challenge for direct visibility.

Visibility Factors:

Several factors come into play when determining whether you can see the Statue of Liberty from the Brooklyn Bridge. One of the primary factors is the line of sight. Tall buildings, structures, and the curvature of the Earth can obstruct the view, making it challenging to spot the statue from certain vantage points.

Additionally, weather conditions play a crucial role. On clear, sunny days with minimal atmospheric interference, the chances of spotting the Statue of Liberty are higher. However, fog, rain, or smog can significantly reduce visibility, making it difficult to catch a glimpse of Lady Liberty.

Best Vantage Points:

While it might be challenging to see the Statue of Liberty directly from the Brooklyn Bridge, there are other strategic locations that provide an unobstructed view of the iconic statue. Brooklyn Bridge Park, located on the Brooklyn side of the East River, is one such spot. The park offers stunning panoramic views of the harbor, allowing visitors to enjoy the Statue of Liberty along with the Manhattan skyline.

Another popular location is the promenade in Brooklyn Heights, where visitors can witness the Statue of Liberty against the backdrop of the cityscape. These vantage points not only offer a clearer view but also provide an opportunity to appreciate the beauty of the harbor from different angles.

Conclusion:

In conclusion, while it might be challenging to see the Statue of Liberty directly from the Brooklyn Bridge itself, there are nearby vantage points that offer stunning views of this iconic symbol of freedom. Understanding the geographical and visibility factors, along with exploring alternative locations, allows visitors to appreciate the beauty of both the Brooklyn Bridge and the Statue of Liberty during their time in the vibrant city of New York.

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hijinxensues · 1 year

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The Cloaking Brooch Dilemma - Part 2

RotTMNT Donatello x OC!AFAB

Synopsis: Donatello considered himself, nay, deemed himself the greatest mind of his generation. He was known for his skills as a scientist, inventor, engineer and was a technological genius. Dare he throw in that he was a damn good brother and held the title of being 1/4th ‘Protector of New York City’.

He could barely fathom that he didn’t piece together that the pretty barista he was falling for was simultaneously his gaming buddy (might I add, for the last eight years) and was working for Big Mama.

At this very moment, Donatello was sure of two things in his life. One of them being his life was a joke and the second being that he was fraternizing with the enemy.

All because he decided to run errands whilst donning his cloaking brooch.

Warnings: Aged-Up turtles, fluff, Half-Yokai OC, AFAB OC (does use she/her/they pronouns in writing), swearing, light angst

Ch 2 - Royal Purple

Donatello seldom wore his cloaking brooch topside (or at all, really), especially after the Krang invasion where the New York citizens found out they were sharing the streets with Yokai and mutant-kind. Confidence was his and his brothers friend in terms of navigating the streets, humans barely batted an eye at them pre-invasion and it was the same post-invasion. He didn’t question how his “skin condition” and snout weren’t enough for people to ask questions, but he was thankful for the lack of attention. However, there were times where he did not feel like receiving and ignoring bigoted stares from the random New Yorker off the side of the road and in these moments, he dons a cloaking broach to run errands.

Donatello clipped his cloaking broach to his tank top and slipped a zip-up over his shoulders then zipped, fumbling with the zipper since he had five fingers instead of being tridactyl. He pulled a purple puffer jacket over the zip-up, tied the strings of his black sweatpants together to look presentable (Galileo-forbid, he look so disheveled to leave the string of his sweatpants untied), pulled his boots on and glanced in the mirror.

The first time Donatello looked in the mirror with the brooch on, he was baffled. He shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was considering he was made of Lou Jitsu DNA. He frankly looked a bit like Lou Jitsu, being Asian with fair skin and fluffy jet-black hair, not coiffed like his father had his fair in his prime. He still maintained his body structure regardless if he was his terrapin self or his “human” self, he had always been lithe and toned, not that you could tell underneath his winter clothes. He welcomed the sensation of hair on his head and ultimately opted to leave without a tuque. He pulled his hood up once he made it top-side to the cold breeze.

Donnie knew the streets of New York like the back of his hand. He was, of course, one of the Protectors of New York City. He found it amusing that people had snapped the blurriest photos of him and his brothers jumping on rooftops in their teens when they weren’t as stealthy and posting them on the ‘NYC heroes?’ subreddit on Reddit- people from all over trying to debunk or prove his existence, even with Yokai’s being known to the public.

Donnie was on the hunt for a new GPU for his computer, he liked to buy the commercially sold pieces and use them as controls when he ultimately decided he could build one better. Rounding the corner, he finds himself in front of the computer store he frequents. Pushing past the door, he does a nod to the clerk at the front desk which is returned in kind before heading over the peruse the selection of GPU’s. He makes quick work of his decision, pulls one of the peg and heads to the counter. Perhaps he should head over to get a latte to warm up before heading back down to the lair? Donnie did not thrive in the cold being part terrapin and did not want a repeat of when he went into brumation last winter, he was playfully teased relentlessly once he came out of it and was called ‘Sleepy-Tello’ for a good portion of the Holiday season.

Exiting with his bag, he headed down to his favorite coffee shop. They had mediocre service, but a fabulous lavender latte which paired wonderfully with their signature cinnamon buns. The coffee shop had very odd hours and closed much later in the evening which worked perfectly for his irregular sleep schedule. Donatello pretty much never ventured this way during the day and only opted coming here in the late evening when he needed a pick me up from tuning and building his tech. It was much busier in ‘Rendezvous’ mid day than in the late hours he normally visited.

“Hi, how’re you? What can I get started for you today?”

Donatello looked up from his phone to see a familiar face, Violet. Violet had been a barista at Rendezvous for years, often the one to prepare his lavender lattes and package his cinnamon buns (she was the only competent worker to use a plastic container for his bun instead of a paper bag as to not ruin the icing on the top) during the closing shift. He would admit he favored her over the other baristas based on her name alone, being a shade of purple. Donnie wasn’t the type to track a total strangers work schedule but statistically, but every time he stepped into the shop in the evening, Violet was there which meant she had almost always had the closing shift instead of a morning shift.

“Fine. One medium lavender latte please,” he looked over at the pastry display, “and a cinnamon bun.”

Violet hums thoughtfully as she punches in the order and he offers a quirked brow as he fishes out his wallet.

“Oh, I’m not usually on during a morning shift and I have a regular that stops by in the dead of night to make this exact order,” she holds out the payment machine and Donnie taps his card, “but, uh, you aren’t him!” she laughs nervously and tucks a strand of hair behind her ears. She turns so her back is to him but then rapidly turns back around, “Not that there’s anything wrong with his-your order! It’s just not a very common one.”

She’s nervous. Donatello might not be great at reading verbal cues or tone, but body language was much easier for him to pick up. Violet didn’t strike him as the nervous type when he’d seen her in the evenings, but granted he didn’t know much about her at all besides the brief exchange they have together where she practically has his latte and bun waiting on the counter for him minutes before his arrival in the evenings. The thing that puzzled him was why she would be nervous of him or even this basic interaction?

“Uh, that isn’t to say the latte and the bun aren’t good items on the menu, it’s just-“ she flounders and takes the machine back from him. “Anyways!”, she claps and turns around once again to fuss with the coffee machine, “give me one moment, I’ll have your order ready for you at the side.”

Donatello had already written off the interaction as he waits off to the side of his order and pulls out his phone. His thumb hovers over the Discord app before giving in and tapping it looking over at his friends muted username, Cavaletty. A clever play on words and her online name. ‘Cavaletti’ being the small hurdles, originally made of wood, originally used for basic horse training but was more familiarised in canine fitness and rehabilitation and ‘Letty’ being her name.

Bootyyyshaker9000: How are you faring at work? It is a beautifully freezing day in New York. Rain check on games tonight, my brothers want to have ‘family night’ tonight and those always run unnecessarily long.

Donatello closes the app as Violet sets his drink and bun down in a paper bag, “I usually pack these in a paper bag, but I didn’t want the icing-“

“To stick to the inside of the bag. It’s an obvious answer to pack a pastry such as the cinnamon bun in a box and not a bag to preserve its longevity and so the consumer has the maximum amount of enjoyment when eating.”

Ah. If the coffee shop was any colder, he’d be able to see the steam radiating off her face. If he was not mistaken, Violet thought he was attractive. Now, Donatello was not a humble person, his ego was actually quite large, reasonably so, he felt. He was one of four of the protectors of this city and on top of that, he was known for his skills as a scientist, inventor, engineer, and technological genius. One of the brightest minds of his generation, he would reckon. His IQ was in the 160-190 range, and he liked to tell people that for reference, Albert Einstein had an IQ of 160. Donatello was never the ‘face’ of the team, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t just as or equally as attractive as Leo. Donatello tries not to feel a certain disappointment he couldn’t place that he's never gotten this type of reaction out of Violet, however, he is a man of science and rational after all, Violet has never really seen him in his regular “mutant form” and thus could not give him a reaction like this since she didn’t know what he looked like.

“Right! You get it,” she tries to look casual, “You stopped by the computer store next door? I actually picked up a ‘Radeon RX 6950 XT’ the other day to replace my garbage graphics card.” Donatello catches her checking how long of a line she had before continuing on quickly, “I mean, I know it’s not the best but GPUs are extremely expensive and hard to come by these days.” She smiles wipes down the counter in front of her.

“Excellent choice, the RX 6950 is half the price of the Nvidia GeForce RTX 4090, which is what I picked up. It’s hard to find something to compete with the best GPU that’s currently commercially sold. The RTX has exceptional gen-on-gen performance, the DLSS frame generation is magic and has super high clock speeds.” Donatello states as he grips the warm paper cup with his signature drink.

Violet opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by someone at the front of the line clearing their throats to get her attention back, “Sorry, I’ve got to go. Nice talking to you! I’ll… see you around?” she gives a sheepish smile and begins to turn her attention back to the line of people waiting for her. Donatello offers a head nod in response, “Sure thing,” he makes a precursor glance at her name tag as if he didn’t know her name already, “Violet,” her name rolls of his tongue easily, “Have a good day.”

Donatello takes a tentative sip of his latte as he exits, not wanting to burn his tongue on the hot liquid. ‘Perfect’, he thinks as the smooth liquid hits his throat, the lavender notes not overwhelmingly floral and as the perfect amount of sweetness to counteract the bitterness of the coffee. He hums thoughtfully and reflects on the interaction with his barista (as if she was really ‘his’ personal barista), aside from the phrases, “The usual?” and “Have a lovely night, get home safe!” he’s never really made small talk with Violet. It’s not like he needed to make small talk (with anyone), Donatello found small talk with anyone painful, unnecessary, and frankly a waste of his time. However, the interaction with her whilst wearing his cloaking broach was… interesting at best and piqued his curiosity. He would put more thought into creating small talk in the evenings with her later- a pros and cons list would do him well.

He made his way safely back to the lair through his secret entrance that led straight into his lab and pulled out his phone after feeling the telltale vibrate of a Discord notification (he had customized and set up a different vibrate pattern for Letty).

Cavaletty: omf tired as fuck, we cant stay up that late i swear ill never make it LOL i almost never do mornings either

Cavaletty: aweeee, family time is nice! your brothers always sound so lovely lol /gen

Donatello smiled to himself; he appreciated the tone indicators- something Letty never had a problem doing for him since he often times struggled with reading texts. He did like to think he knew Letty well enough to decipher the tone of her messages, but he appreciated how thoughtful she was of him, despite never meeting in person or even over cams (he refused every time she asked).

Cavaletty: all good 4 the rain check, i have gigi coming over anyways for pizza. hawaiian- your fav! HAHA let me know tho, my sched is still open at our regular time but all good if you gotta pass

Donatello grimaced and flopped into his seat as he typed back furiously.

Bootyyyshaker9000: You are a literal heathen, a ham and pineapple pizza is a culinary mistake. The flavors do not work, it is a stain on all of humanity. I reconsider our friendship every time you bring up your awful taste in pizza.

Cavaletty: someones cranky today LOL, gotta get to my shift, but will msg throughout the day. get back 2 me whenever. hope youre dressed warm if youre going out, its FREEZING. talk later otto!

He contemplates yet again, probably for the hundredth time, if he should reveal his name to Letty. Back when he was more wary of his online presence, he still used ‘Othello Von Ryan’ and he convinced himself there wasn’t ever an opportune moment to reintroduce himself as ‘Donnie’. It was like when you’ve known someone for too long and you don’t know their name but the window of opportunity to ask their name has completely closed, so you suffer and hope that it’ll come up where they offer their name to you to avoid having to ask them for it.

Bootyyyshaker9000: Of course, enjoy the rest of the day. Already been out and bundled up, I concur it is very chilly. Talk later, Letty.

Donatello was fond of the nickname Letty had given him, ‘Otto’, as they got comfortable over the years and he talked himself out of sharing his name. He had considered that ‘Letty’ wasn’t her real name either, but for whatever reason never did a thorough background check on her once they moved their chats to Discord, deeming her a safe enough entity in his life since all he did was tutor them at the time and play video games. He could confirm that she also lived in New York as they shared the same time zone and they talked about frequenting the same food spots, but he didn’t know where she worked or what she did for work. She never asked him and so he never asked her, their friendship being completely online, and he was content with that. Despite that, Donatello still considered her quite a close friend as a baseline as they filled each other in on other aspect of their lives, such as friends and family amongst other obscure and random topics that they both brought up over late night gaming.

Donatello pulls off his jacket and unclips his broach then tosses it on his table. He breathes a sigh of relief looking at his tridactyl hands then takes a seat in his ergonomic chair. Pulling his purchase out of the bag and setting his cinnamon bun on his table, he takes a sip of his latte, and his chest constricts at the thought of Violet tucking her hair behind her ear and sliding him his drink with a shy smile.

Donatello reminds himself as a man of logic and rational, in his adulthood, that it is, in fact, normal to reminisce about a pretty girl who thought (he hypothesized, based on her shy smile and flushed cheeks) a version of him was handsome, even if it wasn’t truly who he was.

---

TBC

Human!Donnie design by @/smallest_of_smol on TIKTOK! https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMFcctffa/ << check it out !!

Also, I very slightly changed Violet/Letty’s appearance in terms of her legs, I gave her bunny feet when she’s not wearing the brooch. But that was it, everything else is the same (:

#risedonnie #rise donnie #donnie x reader #donnie x oc #rise donnie x oc #rise donnie x reader #bunny oc #yokai oc #tmnt donatello #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #the cloaking brooch dilemma tmnt #thecloakingbroochdilemmafic #tmnt donnie #rottmnt oc #rottmnt donatello

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