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la-fille-en-aiguilles · 3 years

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Billy Russo x Female!Reader

Request by @nebulastarr : Hey! Whenever requests open up again, could you do a Billy Russo x Reader where the reader liked Billy but doesn’t want to tell him because she thinks he won’t feel the same way

A/N: I was going to wait and get down to writing this once I was finished with my series... But this one has simply hit a little too close to home. I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I saw it and I ended up putting a lot of personal stuff in it so I’m sorry if it feels chaotic at times. Thank you for requesting, love, I hope it lives up to your expectations. �� The Only Living Thing series will be back with its third part next week. The song: Isak Danielson - Power

All you heard was an excited scream, that raised above all of the New York’s past-6-pm commotion, as a slender tall body smashed into you, locking you in a bone-crushing hug. You laughed happily, albeit feeling a little bit uncomfortable in Karen’s strong hold. You knew it didn’t seem that way, but Karen packed a wicked punch in those elegant arms of hers. Those self-defense sessions with Frankie boy that she’s been gushing about over the phone must have been finally paying off.

“Once I am done hugging you, I am so kicking your ass,” she breathed out into your hair as she squeezed you harder, as if reading your thoughts. “You’ve been ghosting me for what, a month now?”

You sighed guiltily as Karen pushed you slightly away, keeping her hands on your shoulders. You watched her as she studied your face, a creeping smile stinging at the corners of her mouth.

Grabbing one of her elbows, you groaned dramatically, pulling her towards the busy road. With your hands locked, you finally admitted:

“I did suck at communicating these past couple of weeks. Work’s been…. hectic”, the lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but this was the best explanation you’ve been able to come up with so far. “Please don’t kill me”.

Trying to keep up with your power walk, Karen let a bubbling laughter leave her lips.

“You’re not the one who should be worried then,” she gave you one of those bright trademark smiles of hers. “Next time I’m going to interview Russo, I’ll…”

You stuttered at her tirade as you walked, and of course it didn’t go by unnoticed. Karen was the best journalist you have ever met during your prominent career. She just sensed that sort of thing.

“I’m getting this ‘I-meant-to-tell-you-Karen-but-I-didn’t-and-now-you’ll-need-to-fight-it-out-of-me’ vibe”, she gave you a scrutinising look. “Want to maybe share whatever it is you’ve been not telling me before I go full interrogation mode on your plump backside?”

You rolled your eyes as you led her to a terrace-ringed Upper East Side high-rise, waving to the doorman through the glass doors. Jackson, a thirty-five year old ex-military with three kids and a labrador, gave you a brilliant smile as he hurried to open them for you.

“Good evening, Mrs Y/L/N!” He bowed his head in a stiff, very army-like manner. “A package arrived this afternoon for you, should I bring it up?”

From the corner of your eye, you caught Karen looking around, confusion written all over her face. You had a lot to catch up on.

“Don’t worry about it, Jax, just give it to me,” you didn’t mean to urge him, but you couldn’t wait to change out of your corporate attire into some comfortable old pyjamas and crack open a bottle of whiskey - that’s right, some habits did die hard. And to think you were a bubbles-kind of girl a year ago when you met him.

You could feel Karen’s blue eyes drill a hole in the back of your head as you took a small, envelope-sized package from Jackson’s hands.

It wasn’t until you both stepped into the elevator that Karen cleared her throat.

“When you said you’d rather have a girls’ night in, I asked Frank to pick me up from Queens, not from…here,” she spoke, her eyes skimming expensive red wood and mirrors. “Did you finally sleep with Russo and moved in with him?”

Whatever it was that Karen expected you to say to that, it definitely didn’t include you spitting out a roaring laugh, as you nearly dropped the package on the floor.

“Quite the opposite, actually,” you informed her after you finally restored your breath. “I left Anvil. And, well, Russo. At the end of last month”.

—

A half-bottle of whiskey for you and a bottle of white wine for Karen later, both of you were sprawled out on the lambskins thrown over the hardwood floor in your living room. Jazz music was seeping out of the speakers by the TV, a couple of Diptyque candles emitting a soft yellow glow.

You stared at the ceiling of your new living quarters, your mind a blur. As you folded your hands on your stomach, you felt Karen twitch as she bent her elbow and leaned her blond head on the palm of her hand, facing you.

“So let me get this straight,” she paused, narrowing her eyes. “After becoming the Forbes’ hottest CSO, concluding what can easily be described as deals of the century - especially the one with Anthony Stark aka Iron Man and his magnificent goatee…”

Involuntary, you giggled at this. This talk brought out some very dear memories that you wouldn’t trade for the world - the way Billy’s dark eyes shimmered in the dim lights of the opera house as he gave you a look that said you did it, ever the perfect team… Or the way he threw his arms around your frame, his long fingers sliding down your back… You knew you looked good in that dress, but the moment Billy saw you wearing it… You felt like the only girl in the world, the way his jaw dropped a tad, his lips opening up in awe…

Oookay, Y/N, can’t go there, your mind screamed at you as you wiped that dreamy smile off your face. Sitting down, you took your whiskey glass, and washed those memories away with a gulp of amber liquid.

Meanwhile, Karen ranted on.

“…you just quit?!”

She jumped to her feet all of the sudden, brushing her blond hair away from her face as she watched you excitedly.

“Jesus Christ, did Billy make a move?! He made a move on you, didn’t he?”

The urge to facepalm was fierce, almost overpowering, but you managed to resist. Slamming your empty glass against the floor harder than you intended, you gave her a bored look.

“No, Karen, why… Why in the world would you think that?” You sounded just a little short of desperate, so you cleared your throat. “I was his second-in-command, that wouldn’t have been appropriate…”

When you were done studying the flame, dancing within the glass walls of one of the nearby candles, you raised your eyes to meet Karen’s. She wore quite possibly the most blatant look of ‘you are shitting me’ on her face.

“So you just quit?” she stared at you in disbelief, unblinking. “No explanations provided?”

“This wasn’t how it happened,” you said, hating the fact that you felt like you had to justify yourself. You brought your knees closer, hugging them tightly. “I…”

—

“…I’m here to see William Russo”.  

With a nonchalant gesture, you unbuttoned your Burberry coat, looking at a red-head secretary behind a desk that screamed power and status with every inch of its epic proportions.

Anvil was certainly new money. With all of those hedge funds injecting their cash into emerging companies, there was no shortage of these - entrepreneurial endeavours that didn’t last long.

You didn’t know that at the time, but you were going to make sure this one would.

“My name is Y/N Y/N/L,” you added, perching your sunglasses on top of your head. “He’s expecting me.”

The red-head gave you a polite smile before checking something on her Mac.

“Welcome, Miss Y/N/L,” she almost seemed shy, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before standing up. “Mr Russo is indeed waiting for you. If you would like to follow me, please”.

As the redhead led you through the training grounds, packed with fit men and women that looked like they walked straight outta Gym Shark ad, you did notice a couple of vagrant stares in your direction. You couldn’t blame them. You looked slightly out of place; more Vogue than the setting allowed for.

You quit your job as the COO of a global FinTech company just weeks ago, looking for a new challenge. It was an adventure of a lifetime, and while your ex-executive board had literally begged you to stay, once you’d decided something, no promise of a generous promotion could make you change your mind. While you absolutely loved your job, working for one of the most prominent online payment giants in the world, it felt like it was time for you to step down. Due to all the processes and wise investments you’d initiated, the company could make millions of profits without their CEO having so much as to lift a finger.

And you, well, you lived for the hustle. And that’s exactly what you were here for.

You still had your doubts about Anvil’s owner and acting CEO, though. William “Billy” Russo had already become a household name in the financial circles, albeit the company he was spearheading had little to do with the FinTech space. Some said he had the potential to succeed; others badmouthed him for being ruthless and balancing on the very edge of legal limits.

In short, the man had you intrigued. So the very moment he called and invited you to drop by Anvil to talk strategy, you knew you had to meet him.

See the beast for yourself, so to speak.

The first thing you noticed about William Russo as you walked into his office, spacious and entirely transparent, with its glass walls overlooking the training grounds, was experience, for the lack of a better word. It was etched into his every handsome feature, especially into his scruff strong-willed jaw. As he raised his gaze to meet yours upon the red-head’s announcement, his black eyes swallowing you whole, you realized no light reflected on their surface. There was a certain confidence to him as he raised from his chair, his white shirt straining some over his chest, long dark strands of hair falling onto his long eyelashes. This man meant business, as those black impenetrable eyes zeroed in on yours. He almost seemed too flawless - to spotless to be an ex-marine, stained with blood and murder.

All that Hallmark handsomeness was nothing but a cover.

Before William Russo had even got a chance to open his mouth, you were determined to find out what was lurking underneath.

“Mrs Y/L/N”, the hot-shot gave you a polite smile. “Thank you for coming”.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Russo”, you didn’t move an inch. He may have invited you for interview, but he wasn’t the only one with a long set of demands.

You briefly wondered if he knew that.

Before your thoughts could take you further, William Russo made his way to you, composed and calculated. He stopped by your side, albeit for a moment; rolling the sleeves of his shirt further up, he shot the red-head a charming smile (nothing like the one he gave you).

“Olivia, would you please bring a fresh pot of coffee to the conference room? Mrs Y/L/N and I have a lot to discuss”.

When he turned back to face you, you noted unconsciously that he was taller than you expected, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders. The cool and composed look was back on his face as he motioned towards the doors.

“Would you like to follow me, Mrs…”

“Y/N”, you cut in with a slight raise of your chin. “I’d also prefer to call you William while I tear Anvil’s strategy down”.

His reaction didn’t disappoint. Some tension left his arms, his stung-up body relaxing just enough for a spark of mischief and curiosity flicker its way to his eyes’ surface.

A twinkle of a smile danced across his lips as he bit on the inside of his cheek, nodding ever so slightly in approval.

“It’s Billy”, he said, amusement echoing in his every word. "I don’t expect any leniency, Y/N”.

“Good”, you replied instantly, looking him straight into his eyes. “That’s not what I came here for”.

He nodded again.

And this time, there was liveliness in the quirk of his brow and a touch of insecurity in the corners of his mouth.

Now that was the man you could potentially work with.

—

Working with William Russo was anything but predictable. There were, however, certain patterns to his way of handling things. Whatever the trouble was, Billy was good at seeing the bigger picture - he was usually able to put things into perspective, but there were occasions when he refused to. You dare say that sometimes, you felt like he thought that money didn’t matter - like Anvil’s financial prosperity didn’t matter - as long as his team got not to risk their lives one extra time. You watched him turn down several lucrative deals that you’d busted your ass to put on his table, because it involved sending his men a little too far from home, in a place where he had no strings to pull whatsoever should anything go south. A part of you (the part that wasn’t frustrated as hell) admired him for that - it didn’t, however, stop you from disagreeing with him, time and again.

You may have never been to Iraq, and may have never known the horrors of sleeping with the bombs exploding a mere kilometer away, but you knew a game-changer when you saw it. There were risks involved, there was no arguing about that, but those were calculated, and those kind of deals could make Anvil jump straight to the top of the private military sector overnight.

William and you disagreed.

When William and you disagreed, no voice was raised, no blood was spilt, but Billy usually became distant, cold and just short of snappy when those conversations took place. 

He only crossed the line once.

  You were three months into your job as Anvil’s Chief Strategy Officer when Mayhew happened.

The clock on your desk showed midnight as you paced in your office, on the phone with Rex Mayhew, the U.S. Ambassador in Cairo. A cat-and-mouse game between the Egyptian Armed Forces and the nefarious arms dealer group had become common knowledge since a week or so; the U.S. special forces got involved in the conflict when it’d been discovered that the arms were being transported onto American soil. Rex, an old friend from your Yale days, had let you in on the fact that General Richard Ravelin, in charge of the operation, was looking to reinforce his rangs with private military before “neutralising the threat”. This was a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity, with a potential governmental recognition in play… and Billy wanted to hear nothing of it.

You were exhausted and barely hanging in there; Billy was categorical and stubborn.

You’ve dropped the phone on your table promising Rex you were going to give him an answer in two hours, tops. Taking a deep breath, you walked out of your office, your bare feet thudding on the parquet floors of the corridor. When you reached Billy’s hideout, you found the man leaning against his desk with a glass of whiskey in his unnerved hand.

“Billy…” you spoke firmly, barely stepping through the doorway. “Rex…”

“Can go fuck himself”.

Oh, okay. No sugarcoating this. Alright.

You saw his lips barely touch the amber liquid as he slammed the glass against the surface of his desk.

“I said no, Y/N,” he wasn’t facing you anymore, leaning on his desk with his hands digging into the wood, his back tense. “Please just go home. Have a good night sleep. We will talk about this tomorrow.”

You could have sworn you felt your head starting to fume. This was the third time Billy Russo was shutting you down. For the third time he was making you feel like an incompetent fool when you were trying to do your goddamn job.

Why in hell would he hire you if whatever vision you had for Anvil didn’t match with his own?!

“You could at least say this to my face, Billy,” you spoke a bit harshly before you could stop yourself. “You know, to my tired and disappointed face, with a mouth that you have been shutting up every time it offers you a deal of the century”.

This sounded so much better in your head.

“Why did you hire me?” you asked almost immediately, trying to soften the impact of the words that had already escaped. “If this isn’t the direction in which you want to take your company, maybe I should just…”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Y/N, just fucking leave already!” Billy snapped like a branch that’s been holding too much weight, the sound of it dry and final.

…maybe I should just rethink the entire plan.

There was no point in finishing that sentence now, was there?

“I was there long before you came along, so I’d think I know a shitstorm in the making when I see one!” Billy was looking at you alright, brushing his hair back, his eyes black and void.

You had wished It would have been new to you - looking in William Russo’s eyes and not seeing him there. But it wasn’t. He was back to his Hallmark version of a man, but instead of playing a hero, he was now putting on his villain guise.

“Let’s get something straight here,” he leaned back on his desk, crossing his arms on his chest, his black eyes narrowed. “While you were making your way to the top of a rich-ass cookie-cutter FinTech company, I was crawling in the dirt in Iraq under a downpour of the Trident D5LE missiles. While the closest thing you’ve come to havin’ your hands dirty was bribing an investor or two, I was fucking beheadin’ people under the direction of the CIA,” his words were cold, measured and rhythmic, like a round of bullets being fired on a range. “You know nothing of what’s it like to be in the middle of that kind of shit show, princess, so when I fucking say no, you listen. Is that clear?”

Bark. Sit. Roll over.

“Crystal. Sir.”, you finally broke the heavy silence hanging in the air, just barely resisting the urge to salute him. “I’ll see myself out.”

Biting the inside of your cheek like your life depended on it, once you turned your back on him, your first thought was don’t you dare cry on his account, bitch and then almost right away wait at least until you’re home.

You could have sworn you heard William call your name in a stranded voice, but you made sure to slam the door somewhat hard as you left his office so you could pretend you didn’t hear him.

If you were to face him now, with all that power and toughness he exuded… You would never admit it, even to yourself, but you’d just end up on the floor, huddled into a shivering little ball.

—

You were grateful that the next day after the shit went down with Mayhew fell on a Friday. When you stumbled into your apartment in Queens at almost one in the morning, you immediately shot an email to the HR department asking for a day off. Once that’d been done, you dialled Rex to decline his offer to introduce Anvil to general Ravelin, washed the makeup off your face and crawled into bed, hugging the second pillow close to your chest.

You didn’t cry, if that’s what you’re wondering.

As you rolled out of bed in the morning at around 8 am, you took a shower and grabbed a coffee from the kitchen before settling behind your home office desk with a heavy head. When you opened up the Keynote presentation with your strategy outlined for the H1, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at the iPhone you left on your couch last night.

You weren’t going to check if you had any missing calls.

There was nothing you had left to say to each other.

…with your chest hollow, you powered up the screen. There were no missed calls and no new messages.

It all looked like you had another strategy to build now. If Billy Russo thought that calling you a rich-ass princess that knew nothing of the world, all butterflies and rainbows, was going to make you resign, then man, was he in for a surprise.

You once heard one of his men compare you to a military convoy, when the guy thought you weren’t listening.

He had no idea.

You spent the morning refilling you coffee cup and rebuilding your H1 plan from scratch. After about eleven calls with the people you knew could get you a foot in the door of the offices of some government officials, billionaires and generals, after typing, deleting and typing again for 5 hours straight, by 2pm you had a solid game plan. You were pretty sure it would still need some tweaking from Castle, who essentially held the role of the Chief Operating Officer, dispatching men and women on missions and planning operations, and, well, from Billy Russo.

The Badass-ex-Sniper-turned-CEO himself.

You kept the email short and to-the-point, sending the document over to Russo with Castle on copy, saying you’d be in the office to debrief on Monday.   Refusing to check whether your email’d been opened, you slammed your MacBook shut.

The rest of the day rolled on uneventfully. You grabbed a coffee with the People Culture Officer from your previous company, who also happened to be one of your dearest friends; then you picked up your dry cleaners and did some shopping, cracking for a pair of new shoes in Saks Fifth Avenue.

Shoes were, indeed, your weakness.

By the time you got home, the tired sun was yawning, stretching its rays in one last effort before rolling into bed. Humming a Dua Lipa song under your breath, you were putting your new Jimmy Choo’s away when you suddenly heard your phone ring.

You didn’t even have to look at it to know who it was.   You checked the time, however, noticing is was two minutes after the official end of the working day.

“Hi, Y/N”, Billy spoke, clearing his throat. “Are you… Um… Any chance you’re available to meet tonight? I would really appreciate it if you could give me fifteen minutes of your time. Please.”

It sounded like the real Billy Russo was back around. Insecure. Rugged. Imperfect.

“Can you pick me up?” you asked softly, “I’ll text you my address. There’s a pizza place just around the corner, I could use a free slice”, you circled the cold coffee cup you left on the counter with your finger. “Free as in you’re paying, Russo”.

A laugh that came somewhere from within caressed your ear.

“Uh, yes, I’m actually… Yeah, thanks. I’m leaving the office now,” even if he tried to hide it, a shocked surprise still seeped through the cracks in between the vowels.

You chuckled silently at his reaction.

“Just one more thing,” you ventured, placing the cup in the sink and making your way to the balcony - your small piece of heaven with a wooden chair, pillows and lavender. As you stepped outside, you put oyour free hand on the railing, just to feel the coolness of it, the evening air and the gentle flower smell stroking your skin. “What kind of car should I be on the lookout for?”

Billy hesitated, biting his bottom lip, running his nervous fingers through the thick strands of dark hair. The setting sun was hitting him just from the right angle, making his sculpted cheeks look like they were made of marble.

“A Rolls Royce Wraith”, he squirmed, rubbing his forehead, probably realising how lame and pretentious it sounded. “I’ll call you once I’m downstairs”.

“Uh-huh”, you smirked, leaning on the railing with your forearms.

You saw Russo pinch the bridge of his nose, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip again.   Your small balcony provided quite a view, when you really thought about it.

“Don’t take too long”, you couldn’t help it, it really was stronger than you. “I’m starving”.

With a wide grin, you dropped the call and went back into your apartment.

You were planning to make him wait for ten extra minutes when he would finally “arrive”.

Just for the hell of it.

—

“That’s a lot of hot sauce for one pizza”, Billy commented, watching you spray your truffles and cheese generously with the piquant olive oil.

You gave him a mischievous smile.

“What can I say,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair and licking the tip of your finger after you swept a drop of it from the top of the bottle. “I like them hot”.

That startled a laugh out of Billy as he eyed you with something in his irises looking a lot like awe.

Just when he was about to speak, a servant brought a glass of red wine for him and bottle of sparkling water for you.

You thanked the guy with a sweet smile, while Billy eyed him a bit coldly, obviously waiting for him to leave.

When the waiter had finally made himself scarce, Billy softly called your name.

You raised your eyes to meet him, struggling as hell to keep your stare vacant. (Which was hard to do with some foreign tightness in your throat).

“Before we dig in and I hope spend a nice evening as two friends, getting together on a Friday night”, he didn’t even blink? Was he blinking? You couldn’t tell, his black eyes swallowing you whole, again. “I want to apologise. I was completely out of line… It was unacceptable. You don’t need my validation, of course, but I still want you to know that you are doing a terrific job at Anvil, taking us to the heights I never even thought existed. It’s just… It’s hard for me sometimes to be a good CEO and someone who promised to take care of my men at the same time… Everything is happening so fast, I’m afraid to lose my footing.”

You reached out for his hand across the table before you could stop yourself. You didn’t take it, but your fingers brushed his ever so slightly before you realized what you were just about to do. Your eyes widened as you looked at him, searching for a reaction.   Billy remained perfectly still, not taking his eyes off you.

You grabbed a napkin next to his wrist, pretending this was what you had meant to do all along.   “We’ll get there, Billy”, you said, a small encouraging smile blooming on your lips. “We just need some tweaking”.

You weren’t sure if you were talking about strategy at this point anymore.

—

You had a great time at dinner.

(And a whole-hearted laugh as Billy finished your remainders of the truffle pizza, downing a litre of water to numb down the burning sensation in his throat afterwards).

You talked about your respective lives, your ex-colleagues, your hopes for the future… You dared think this who the real Billy Russo was.

And he was incredible.

After the two of you were done with dinner, you offered him to come upstairs to your place and go through the new strategy together. He didn’t hesitate, although you could swear you’d seen something ambiguous flash in the depths of his dark eyes before he nodded.

(You must have imagined it.)

The two of you ended up sprawled out on your soft faux fur carpet talking game plan, bouncing ideas off each other. You watched Billy frown, as he rubbed his mouth with his long fingers, smile in excitement and shake his head in awe when you voiced your ideas - you felt proud and appreciated, and you wouldn’t trade the sensation for anything in the world.

A couple of hours later the two of you had finally decided that it was enough brainstorming for one night, and you rose to your feet to go and make Billy a coffee before he got behind the wheel. As you pushed the start button on your coffee machine, you heard him speak over the noise.

“You know I’ve done four tours - three in Iraq and one in Afghanistan”, you popped your head up, only to see him play absentmindedly with something on his chest. “And every time I’m considering a mission for Anvil, I find myself back in there again… A part of a death squad.”

You carefully picked up his cup of coffee and made your way back to him. You didn’t say a word as you leaned lower to hand it over to him, encouraging him to go on.   Billy thanked you in a whisper before clearing his throat.

“Every time I have to send them somewhere, especially overseas, I force myself to stop and think… Is this really worth it? Is a fat check really worth putting the lives of my men and women in danger? And most importantly - you may think it’s stupid…” he avoided your gaze, staring into his coffee cup, a miserable smile on his lips. “I think, will it make a difference? If one of them dies on a mission, I have to at least know they made a difference… it’s selfish and it’s more about the peace of my own mind, but it is what it is, you know?”

When he looked up at you, his eyes were full, full to the brim. There was so much emotion in them, hatred, misery, hope, adoration, all whipped in a wild mix that was Billy Russo’s dark, velvet eyes.

“I carry these at all times,” the fingers of his free hand dropped to his chest, as he got a hold of something hanging around his neck. A necklace? “When in doubt, I just look at them - they help me remember where I’ve been and what I’ve done - and I just know if it’s worth it or not. The answer is usually no, by the way”.

He smiled again, the curve of his lips looking less haunted this time, as he sipped on his coffee.

Dog tags. Those were Russo’s dog tags.

“So they’re your reminder that, even being a badass CEO of a private military company”, you couldn’t help but feel some kind of zero gravity settling in your lower stomach as you saw him chuckle at your words. “…you still have a heart”.

“How poetic”, Billy teased you without missing a beat, putting the empty cup on the floor next to him. “But yeah. Sort of, I guess”.

As you fell asleep that night, you dreamed about explosions, piquant olive oil and holding Billy Russo’s dog tags in your hand.

—

The time flew by after that. In 8-month time (after some tweaking) Billy Russo and you became a team. It sometimes felt like nothing could stop you, as long as you were together.

It should not have come as a surprise that the two of you earned yourselves a catchy nickname - at first, it was spoken solely behind your backs, but soon enough it became some kind of a title, more powerful than that of the CEO or the CSO.

Anvil’s men and women (and especially Frank - the fact that he invented the nickname secretly tickled him pink) - were now calling you Bonnie and Clyde. The ultimate partners in crime, against all odds, doing the impossible.

The two of you also settled in an almost homely kind of routine. Ever since that Mayhew fiasco and the day that followed, Friday had become the non-spoken partners in crime day. What it meant in practice was exchanging Friday jokes on Anvil’s internal communications suite…

(Billy once attacked you with a “would you look at this, just found the actual footage of your interview @ Anvil”. Before you even got a chance to answer, he forwarded you a cheesy meme with two old women speaking to each other, one of them saying “We need someone who can do the job of two men”, and the other responding “oh, so it’s only a part-time job then”. When you shot him back a message asking whether he really considered himself an arthritic old woman, that seemed to have shut him up).

…grabbing a beer in a bar nearby…

(you sometimes invited your colleagues to join you, plus it was an unspoken rule that Frank and Karen were to be there as well)

…you making fun of Billy Russo’s eating habits…

(It was honestly a nuisance to have a lunch with him. The list of things he refused to eat went on and on: no asian food, no food chain restaurants (even high-rated), no soups, no cheesecakes… He sure was settling well in that peaceful life he earned after spending all those tours living off canned food).

…and just overall enjoying each other’s company.

By the time the ninth month of your being Anvil’s CSO had rolled in, you couldn’t imagine not seeing Billy Russo every day. Not noticing him rolling his eyes at a smart-ass comment you or Frank made, or his orbs lighting up every time you told him the deal with that or this decision maker had gone through. You simply could not understand how you managed to live day in and day out, and think you were genuinely happy, before you actually met Billy. Everything before him just faded away somehow, your memories lost their colour and spike in comparison to the life you were living now. You kicked ass at your job, your career thrived, but most importantly, you were feeling like this was exactly where you were meant to be, braving the obstacles by Billy Russo’s side, knowing he would catch you should you fall.

He would, wouldn’t he?

It was your usual Friday night outing, the seven of you - Billy, Frank, Karen, Curtis, James from legal, Ashley from mine clearance and yourself - occupying your usual table at Whimsy, the bar that must have made 90% or their revenus off of Anvil’s folk. It was just around the corner from the headquarters, after all.

The overall mood of the evening was rather nostalgic. It’d been four weeks since you’d lost a team member in a crossfire in Falluja, Iraq. After everything was said and done, his loss still hung heavy in the air, and it felt right to get one more drink in Jasper’s honour. The conversation flowed easily, even though the topics you’d spoken about were anything but.

“I remember how I felt when I lost Andy”, Ashley nursed her beer as she stared into the distance. “I just literally had the weight of the entire world on my shoulders, pinning me to the ground, I just couldn’t move on”, she finished her bottle in one go and motioned for the bartender to bring her another one. “Sometimes, I just ask myself, what would have I done if I’d known he was going to die the next day? Would I have stopped him from going? I think I would,” she thanked the bartender as he put the beer in front of her, her eyes a bit foggy. “Yeah, I definitely would have.”

Frank grasped Ashley’s shoulder and squeezed it hard in a comforting gesture; Karen gave her a tender look.

You didn’t know why your mind had gone there, but all of the sudden a memory of Billy sitting in his office chair, laughing his ass off at some offhand comment you’d made flashed before your eyes; it quickly got replaced by the recollection of his hand brushing against yours during the Zoom meeting you’ve had with general Warren Singer; then you remembered him putting his hand on the small of your back, staring daggers at some army brat wanting to join Anvil, eyeing you like a piece of meat (you learned later that day that the man’d been thrown out before having a chance to introduce himself); until finally, your brain stopped dead at the picture of Billy running his nervous fingers through his hair as he called you from his car, telling you he was only leaving the office.

What would you do if you knew he was going to die tomorrow?

Your heart sunk at the thought as you gulped hard, ducking your head and staring at your hands folded in your lap.

A soft touch enveloping your elbow had you facing the man of the hour, his black eyes shimmering with concern.

“Are you okay?” he half-whispered, half-mouthed, not letting go of your hand.

No.

Nothing is okay, Billy.

I’m so happy that I met you, but you’re scaring the hell out of me.

I never wanted any form of eternity until now, I never saw the point…

So stay. Please, stay forever, and feel something for me, too.

“Yes. I’m fine,” you whispered back, staring into his eyes, hypnotised and helpless. You watched him turn away from you as if in slow motion, the warmth of his hand leaving nothing behind but emptiness in your bones.

“Here is to always telling the things that matter to the people who matter”, Billy spoke firmly, raising his beer. “Here’s to never missing a chance to open up to the people we love”.

Well, if this was his way of crossing the t's and putting the dots to the i’s regarding his feelings for you, he couldn’t have been clearer.  

As far as confessions of love went, this one was non-existent.

—

You tried, time and again, to convince yourself you had to go. You learned the hard way that your unrequited feelings were feeding on a sort of inadvertent parasitic relationship where every moment of your day depended on the level of Billy’s unintentional emotional indifference. Your days were spent questioning his every move - every look and every touch; until, the grown-ass woman that you were, you’d commanded yourself to stop second-guessing everything - stop feeling - and decided your best course of action would be… to work yourself into the ground.

If Billy ever noticed anything, he didn’t show it - your were still you, after all, working hard, laughing when he said something funny, calling him out on his bullshit when needed. He didn’t notice slight change in your eyes, when their icy surface cracked at every other compliment he threw in your direction (and there was no shortage of those). He didn’t realize the smile you gave him was different from those tightlipped signs of appreciation you gave to Anvil’s potential clients, he didn’t think twice about the reason for which you glowed around him, your every move softening, your every gesture emanating warmth.

Because Billy hadn’t really known you until you started to have feelings for him.

You knew this couldn’t go on forever. This entire situation was bound to result in some explosion of nuclear proportions, and then all hell would break loose. You needed to get yourself out of this situations, but you just… couldn’t. You couldn’t imagine your life without Billy Russo. You couldn’t leave him.

Even if being friends with him meant tearing yourself apart and suffering in silence.

  Long story short, you waited with fear in your bones for someone to walk into your life and to get you out. You’ve had no fight left in you to do it yourself.

Your salvation came in the form of a phone call on a Friday evening, when Billy was on a recruiting mission in California.

You were typing back a response to his cheeky message when the call cut in half-sentence.

Billy Russo: Please remind me to take you with me instead of Frank next time? He’s driving me insane trying to set me up with the ladies from the Organising Committee. Any ideas on how I can calm him the fuck down?

You: Sorry, Billy, but recruiting is out of my mission scope. As for the calm down part, try bondage maybe? :)

Billy Russo: I’m going to pretend you did not just suggest I engage in sexual practices with Frankie. Karen will have my balls.

Billy Russo: But perhaps you’re right. Taking you with me is probably not a good idea. Wouldn’t want my new recruits’ brains to turn into mush because of how beautiful you are.

You: The flattery will….

“Hello? Y/N speaking”, you brought your phone close to your ear, your cheeks still a lovely shade of pink. If you were going to feel miserable when Billy came back, acting like nothing happened, you were sure going to make the best of that fuzzy feeling in your chest right now.

“Miss Y/N/L”, a smooth deep voice greeted you, and you could have sworn you’d heard it many times before. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”

Frowning in an attempt to remember, you urged:

“No, not at all. How can I help you?” you stared into the screen of your Mac, wheels turning in your head as you silently catalogued all the men you were in discussions with regarding a deal. “I didn’t catch your name…”

“Oh, how rude of me”, the man chuckled but there was no mockery in his voice, more like self-depreciation. “Tony Stark, from Stark Industries”.

Your mind went blank. Did you hear his last words correctly?

“Uh… Mr. Stark”, you quickly got a hold of yourself - well, as quickly as you could. “I appreciate you reaching out to me directly. What can Anvil do for you?”

You did a pretty bang-up job trying to mask your amazement with polite cheerfulness, and Stark had caught on that.

Tony Stark just called your cellphone number. What in the world?…

“We don’t really do alien invasions”.

Ohyourgod, did you just say it out loud?!

His uproarious laughter took you by surprise, reverberating through your entire body. It took every ounce of your self-control not to giggle in response.

“That’s a good one, I love it”, Stark finally said, restoring his breath. “And the better question would be, Y/N - can I call you Y/N? - what you can do for me”.

Before your brain could take you into some naughty direction, freaking Iron Man cleared his throat.

“Okay, this came out wrong,” he admitted with a sense of self-irony. “I um… I’m looking for the Co-Chief Executive Officer for Stark Industries. Well, Virginia Potts is actually looking for a Co-CEO, I’m just her errand boy. And my missions apparently include recruiting…. Anyway,” it was a bit of a challenge to follow Anthony Stark’s train of thought, but you were also still shocked, so that could explain it. “…I think you are the perfect fit for the job”.

You just stared into the screen front of you, your breathing barely audible.

“Mrs Potts and I would love it if you could swing by the A-Tower, let’s say, on Thursday? You’ll be surprised, but I can also whip up a mean cup of coffee…”

Say something.

Fucking hell.

Say something!…

“Thursday sounds great,” you blurted out without thinking. “Let me just shuffle my schedule around… I could stop by after lunch?”   Your hands were slightly shaking as you clicked on your mouse, opening your schedule window.

“Whatever works for you, Y/N”, you could hear Stark smile. “Not to sound like a creep, but I’ve been following your career for quite a while now, and I think that the work you've done in such a short span of time for Anvil is outstanding, even though you still don’t offer protection from alien invasions”.

That made you chuckle, pushing you halfway out of your stupor.

“I’ll put that on the list of things for us to consider”, you promised.

"Tell Mr. Russo I sent my best,” Stark added, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. “I actually might have some ideas for how we could collaborate. Let's discuss this on Thursday, too, shall we?”

After you said your goodbyes, you fell back in your chair, dropping your iPhone on the table.

You: The flattery will….

...get you nowhere.

You never finished that message, leaving Russo on Read.

—

Starting with that evening, things were moving fast - too fast for you to keep track.

After a three-hour long coffee and the tour of the A-Tower, Virginia Potts, the acting CEO of the Stark Industries, had offered you the job - just like that - and asked you to come back to her executive assistant should you wish to take the job, with your salary expectations and the information about your notice period. You thanked her for her time and promised to get back to her as soon as you made your decision.

Virginia Potts was a brilliant woman; but running a company like Stark Industries while being equipped with a vagina was certainly no walk in the park. Sexism was still very much present within the Boards of the Tech Businesses. You understood perfectly well why she wanted a woman in her corner - it would have been a massive slap in the Board’s face, but it was also about having someone to lean on, who just understood.

In any other circumstances you would have peed your pants in excitement. It was an opportunity to work for Stark Industries - no, scratch that - it was an opportunity to step in as a Stark Industries co-CEO. The idea of it still made you dizzy.

…but as you looked at Virginia’s email sent to your personal address thanking you for stopping by, your eyes were swimming with tears.

You weren’t ready to leave Billy.  You just couldn’t.  You couldn’t leave him.   There was no epic finale to your story. There was no big revelation, no closure, no moment of relief, no acceptance, nothing. Only a fat-ass what if.

And you didn’t know how to let go of a what if with Billy Russo.

And that was exactly why you had to do it.

You heard Billy come in the next Monday earlier than usual. He was positively humming Usher’s Yeah! quietly as he made his way past your office’s doors straight into his own.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You’ve been psyching yourself up during the entire weekend, telling yourself it wasn’t a big deal, we wouldn’t even flinch when you were going to tell him.

You had to tell him.

As you stood up from your chair, straightening you skirt with the palms of your hands, you suddenly heard the footsteps coming back in your direction. You froze in place like a deer in headlights when Billy swung open the door to your office, a box of Pierre Hermé macarons in his hands.

Your goddamn favorite Pierre Hermé macarons.

“You’re here!” Billy’s warm smile illuminated the room. “So much for a surprise, huh?”

He shook the box carefully in the air. You stared at it, dumbfounded, every single thought leaving you.

You couldn’t breathe.

In the hazy morning light seeping through the windows of your office, Billy looked beautiful and dissolute, shirt open at the collar, longer strands of dark hair falling into his eyes.

He was going to be the death of you. It really wasn’t fair.

“Billy, I have to tell you something.”

Was it you who spoke those words? They seemed distant and cold, so uncharacteristically detached.

Blood roared in your ears.

“What’s wrong?”

Billy’s reaction was instant. In three decisive steps he closed the distance that separated you, leaving the macarons on your desk. He stood still just mere inches away, and just like during your very first meeting, you had a fleeting thought cross your mind: you really were tiny next to him, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders.

You bit the inside of your bottom lip, trying to keep your composure. He stared at you unblinking. He wasn’t touching you, but it felt like his eyes were looking straight into your soul, undressing you, blowing that wall you built around yourself into dust. They were taking you down, piece by piece, determined to see what you’d been keeping from him.   Because, of course, he knew. He should have known something was going on. Hence the surprise this morning.

He had no idea what it was though.

“Maybe you should sit,” you said, making a physical effort to tear your eyes away from him, feigning sudden interest in the buttons of his shirt.

  That chest…

  …was going to be just fine. He didn’t feel the same way you did. He would just find someone else to fill your position. With brilliant women stalking him - in cooperative packs - that would not be a problem.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you”.

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as his words reached your ears.  Fucking hell, you should have done that by phone. Or with other people around. You should have…

“You’re leaving”, you heard Billy repeat as his voice broke a little. He stepped away, burying his face in his hands as he dragged them down his jaw and neck, staring into the ceiling.

“Billy, listen, I…”

You were the one to close the space between the two of you this time, and before you could think too much into it… You threw your hands around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

The sensation struck you like a bolt of lightening when you felt his hands cross behind you back and pull you closer.

He smelled heavenly. Like a forest fire, a hint of smoke with oud and pine. You inhaled deep, deeper still, losing yourself in his comforting touch.

In his arms, just for a second there, you felt home.

“You… The company doesn’t need me anymore”, you nearly choked on words, screaming internally at yourself to keep the waterworks at bay. “It’s thriving, there’s not much else I can give you. My job here is done.”

I need to leave because your indifference is destroying me, and when I think I’m ready to let go, all it takes is one look from you, and I’m back to wanting you, to settling for anything you give me, like a goddamn fool.

“What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?!” Billy exclaimed, his hands grasping your shoulders as he distanced your bodies just enough for him to look into your eyes. “I nee- The company needs you! I was… You know, I was planning to make you the CEO of Anvil in a couple months time,” his smile, as earnest as it was, did not reach his eyes. “Yeah”, noticing your eyes go wide in shock, he let his hands slide down your sides. “You’re so much better at it than I ever was. I was going to join Frank and just manage operations… under you”.

You just stared at him, dumbfounded, not feeling a stray tear escape your eye and rolling down your cheekbone.

“These are the tears of happiness, I hope”, Billy added, and you barely registered his touch as his thumb wiped the salty drop off. “Well, I guess Anvil will have to settle for the little old me. With my best girl going places."

You gave him a strained smile before you carefully wiped your cheeks, just taking a moment to look at him. To try and read him.

Billy Russo was a goddamn ceiling. Plain white, cool and unattainable. In all of your time working for him, you have never seen this Hallmark version of him before. Which one was it?  

Oh wait, you guessed you knew. The happy-for-you friend.

“So where are you going?” Billy asked, his eyes empty. “Who snatched you away from m- Anvil?”

The stutter was so subtle you barely noticed. You were finally tired of reading into shit.

“Stark Industries. I’ll be their co-CEO”.

—

Before you left Anvil you promised yourself you’d get the deal with Stark Industries up and running. There was no one in the world you trusted more in terms of security than Billy.

(The fact that you couldn’t keep your heart safe from him didn’t really count, did it?)

As a matter of fact, Billy and you were going to shake hands with Anthony Stark on the deal on your last night of being Anvil’s CSO. It was happening in The Metropolitan Opera and required both Billy and yourself to dress for the occasion.   He promised to come pick you up at 6pm sharp; you were putting on the Jimmy Choo’s you’d bought a coulee months ago in Saks Fifth Avenue when you heard a low knock on your door.

Straightening up, you threw a quick glance at your reflection in the mirror. You decided to go with a long Marchesa black velvet gown with a rather deep V-line, a pair of long diamond earrings and an elegant half-up half-down hairdo, soft curls in the front framing your face.

“I’m coming”, you yelled out, picking up your leather jacket (because why the hell not) and your purse from the kitchen counter. Sharply opening the entrance door, you realized moments later that you didn’t even take time to prepare yourself for seeing William Russo in a tux.

If you weren’t already half in love with him, the sight before your eyes would have sealed the deal.

God-fucking-damn, like he needed any help being unforgettable.

With a black jacket thrown on a crisp white shirt with a couple of buttons undone and the tie hanging loosely around his neck, Billy was here to make a statement, to leave a mark. His hair was coiffed back in his usual style; honest to God, he looked like he just stepped out of the Man of the Year special GQ edition…

Just when your thoughts were about to switch to the way you must have looked next to him, ridiculous in your simplicity, like you refused to make an effort…

…Your eyes met his.

And the way he looked at you was so intense, his big black eyes with galaxies in them probing into yours, his strong jaw slack. There was beauty and tragedy reflecting in those orbs, but only just for a second - just for a second, he looked at you the way he probably looked at the sky he could never reach. Just for a second, he looked at you the way that made your heart beat twice as fast, like the world could crumble all around him and he still would not have blinked.

Would not have taken his eyes off you.

“Wow, Y/N, you look… You look beautiful”, he finally said. “I just can't spot a part of you that beats the other.”

Something in your chest exploded silently.

“Thank you, Billy,” you smiled at him - a genuine and happy smile, because you felt on top of the world with his adoring eyes on you. “You’re quite a catch yourself”.

Before you could scold yourself for your choice of words, you stepped out of your apartment and locked the door behind you.

“Shall we?” Billy offered his hand to you, without hesitation it seemed.

“We shall”, you replied instantly, slowly sliding your hand into the crook of his elbow.

And, just like always, you were going to enjoy it while it lasted.

—

The crowd in the opera was so posh, the looks all the women had been throwing you first made you question your choice of outfit. It’s after overhearing their conversations that you realized, the reason they stared daggers at you was the man that kept by your side no matter where you went.

Virginia and Anthony welcomed you at the buffet with sun-stained sincere smiles. After a short small talk, Anthony Stark informed you both that he had signed the contract earlier today, thus officially giving Anvil an exclusive security deal with Stark Industries. As of now, Anvil was the only company allowed on the Stark Industries’ premises in the quality of guards and protection officers.

The look Billy and you exchanged spoke volumes; while your eyes were sparkling with excitement though, screaming “we did it!!”, his bottomless black eyes were whispering “thanks to you”.

The four of you then shook hands and went through rounds of gratitude and appreciation; when a pleasant woman’s voice announced the imminent start of Onegin, inviting the guests to go to their seats. Virginia immediately took you hand, leading you straight into the Opera house, saying something about leaving men to finish their drinks. You threw Billy a laughing look over your shoulder, mouthing “come join me” before disappearing out of his sight.

“So on the scale of one to ten, how pissed at me are you, Mr. Russo?”

Billy turned his head sharply to a side, leaning on the high table, and spotted Anthony Stark himself, nursing a glass of whiskey. “For taking your queen away from you? Excuse the chess metaphor, but that woman”, Stark took a sip of his whiskey and savoured it before swallowing it down. “Is a goddamn queen.”

Billy chuckled, straightening up, digging his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“That, she is,” he whispered, his eyes still piercing the spot in the crowd where your smiling face was mere minutes ago.

—

When the opera ended, both Billy and you couldn’t be more relieved - because both of you hated it with passion.

Exchanging meaningful glances in the dark during the singers’ performances now and then, you had to bite your tongue in order to not just ask Billy if you could maybe sneak out. Russo proved to be more stoic than you, carefully covering your hand with his in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

You didn’t look at him once after that, afraid to say or do something that would make him remove his hand.

How much more pathetic could you get?

When the performance was over, Billy led you out of the opera house without saying a word, his hand hugging carefully the small of your back.

His silence was unnerving. You didn’t know what to make of it. Should you have shaken his hand off back in the darkness of the concert hall? Or should you have caressed it with your thumb?

Your mind was spinning in circles by the time he opened the door for you and you slid into the front passenger seat of his Rolls goddamn Royce.

When he got in the car and gripped his steering wheel, you reached out and placed your hand on his whitening knuckles.

“Billy,” you spoke softly, barely audibly. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” he whispered back, turning his head to a side to face you. His black eyes stared into yours, looking hypnotised and helpless. “Everything is fine.”

It didn’t take a degree in Psychology to see that he was lying. You could feel his gaze on you as you turned away from him, taking your hand away at the same time.

Billy started the car. The revving engine filled the silence, loaded with the unsaid words.

—

“…he then walked me to my door, we exchanged our goodbyes. And that was it,” you finished lightly, looking back at Karen.

Her eyes were red as she stared at you, unblinking.

“Unbelievable…” she whispered. “So you never told him?…” her lips barely moved.

You sighed.

“Have you ever felt like you’re potentially in love with someone? Like, you don’t actually love him, you know you don’t, but one day you realise that you could? You realise just how easy it would be for you to fall in love with him? With all the teasing and the banter, the play hitting each other, calling each other names, just…. You start to pick up on little things - like if you listen closely, in every shut up, there’s a barely-there ring of I could love you.”  You shifted on the floor a little, and Karen watched your memories transport you somewhere else again. While physically your were here, in your apartment - with your fluttering eye-lashes, uneven breathing and loaded expression - mentally, you were somewhere else.

“….You probably don’t notice it at first, but your body is drawn to him. Every accidental or absentminded touch…” you continued quietly. “And there’s that twinkle in his eyes when he looks at you and it messes you up, because - what’s going on with you? What the hell does it even mean? Are you imagining shit? You’re trying to make sense.”  

Karen didn’t interrupt, still staring at you as if she were seeing you for the first time

“I mean, he didn’t ask for any of it, you know?” you finally raised your foggy stare at Karen, as if searching for confirmation. “Maybe he just did something dumb one day, smiled at you or said something that seemed important and then all of the sudden you’re full on Looney Tunes, seeing stuff that isn’t there?”

Your words barely audible, you swallowed hard, before continuing.  “…I just kept looking at him with what ifs, and could haves, seeing all that goddamn potential. It’s so fucking twisted. Over-analyzing everything? Waiting for a sign?…” you chuckled bitterly all of the sudden. “…I was so fucking scared of reading too much into it, of crossing that line, because… It would be so easy!… Falling in love with him would have been so easy.”

Oh sweetheart, Karen’s eyes glowed with comfort as she reached out for your hand and squeezed it softly. But you already are in love with him.   

A loaded silence ripped through the air in your living room. The sound of an engine revving somewhere close squeezed its way through the slit of an opened window, and it seemed to break the trance.

Both Karen and you shuddered, and as you took in the realisation Karen’s eyes just bestowed upon you, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“It’s pretty late,” Karen spoke up, reading you like an open book. She knew it was her cue to leave the stage. You needed time to process. “Frank is in a bar nearby with Curtis, let me just give him a call, okay, sweetheart?” she gave your hand one last reassuring squeeze. “You know where to find me when you need me”.

“Yes”, you responded, blinking tiredly. “Thank you so much for coming, Karen. I didn’t mean to unload on you like that…”

“Shut the hell up,” the blonde advised, raising her eyebrows. “But honestly, Y/N, please call me once you… come to terms with things, okay?”

You nodded.

When Karen left, leaving the sweet and pleasant smell of her perfume behind, you closed the door behind her and turned around, leaning on the cold wood and metal with your eyes closed.

It’s been a month. This was supposed to pass by now. Billy was supposed to stop inviting himself into your dreams. You were supposed to heal.

You may have just realized you were in love with the man instead.

Letting out half a moan, half a groan, you peeled yourself from the door slowly, and brushed your hair back, wanting nothing more than to fall face-first into bed.

After you at least cleaned up a bit and put out the Dyptique candles, that is.

As your eyes scanned your living room in an attempt to asses the size of the job at hand, you stopped mid-way, zeroing in on the box Jax gave you earlier in the evening. It rested silently on the kitchen table.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you made your way to the kitchen area. Grabbing the package, you turned it around, looking for any indication of the sender.

The package wasn’t even stamped.

Curiosity getting the best of you, you took a moment to grab a knife from one of the drawers, and carefully swished it between the two cardboard sheets.

Flipping over the envelop, you heard something fall out of it before you could actually see it. A small sheet of paper floated in the air before falling on the surface, partially covering whatever fell out of the package.

Your heart squeezed the second your brain identified the object, attached to a worn silver chain.

With trembling fingers, you slid two metal pieces from under the paper, covering your mouth.

Finding their home in the palm of your hand, Billy’s dog tags shimmered in the dim candlelight.

Squeezing them in between your fingers, you grabbed the paper with your free hand, your eyes staring at one single sentence scribbled on its surface.

“You took my heart with you”.

#billy russo x you #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo angst #billy russo fanfic #billy russo story #the punisher imagine #billy russo imagine #the punisher story #billy russo request

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saturnsstufff · 3 years

Note

Hear me out, imainge Techno raiseing a little girl and she just brings home her first boy friend or something. Techno being Techno just reacts to this in a "hurt her and i'll kick your ass" kinda way.

This idea wont leave my head and I have no idea why.---

Also hope you have a great rest of the weekend!! :D

-🐼😐

Oh my god he would be the best/worst dad ever. Best because he would be so loving and supportive. But worst because he was so terrifying.

Also! Apologies before hand I got a little carried away (I love domestic dad techno, what can I say)

Athena- Technoblade

Warning: none, maybe protective dad Techno?

When you first had children Techno was pretty hesitant. He wasn't sure if the child would like him or despise him. He also wasn't sure if he would even be a decent father. Of course being his loving and supportive wife, you already knew Techno was utterly amazing with children. So when you announced you were pregnant, you swiftly eased Techno's nerves about fatherhood.

When your baby was born he cried, he was so over joyed at the sight of your little darling within his arms. Phil, having known the lengths and dangers of pregnancies, was glad that you had safely delivered a healthy baby girl. Almost a exact replica of you to be precise. With little ruby eyes she looked at you both with wonder. Quickly finding comfort with her Mother, Father and Uncle. Techno upon seeing her, knew she would grow to be strong. Whether she choose to be delicate as a flower, or as fierce as a warrior. He would be there to support his little girl. With that said, he only found one name, perfect enough to fit his little darling.

Athena.

Like her name foretold, she became a elegant warrior. From a young age she was driven to make her father forever proud. Of course he was naturally proud of her. But that didn't stop her from picking a bow, and sword up to challenge her father.

When she was a toddler, she found amusement and love for the little things. Athena and Steve had even become inseparable. Her father was gushing over the idea that his daughter had a love for large animals similarly to him.

Of course you were also close to her. She was your daughter, made of your flesh and blood. While Techno taught her everything about combat, you often shown her the gentle side of things.

Between You and Techno- and the rather occasional help from Phil- you guys had taught Athena to be fierce, yet gentle and loving. Something you were all very proud of.

As Athena aged she became rather beautiful, growing to look a lot more like Techno then you first had perceived. With her father's strong gaze and jawline she became a heartbreaker without even knowing it.

You and Techno both knew she was gentle and loving. But due to Technoblade being her father, many boys and women alike tended to shy away from her. Fearing of upsetting her or her father.

Techno felt bad at the idea of his daughter being alone. He knew what it was like to be shunned by most people. It wasn't something he wished his little girl to face.

You, having been the more positive person in the marriage, knew that it would just take time for her to find the right person. Sure enough, you were right.

Athena had found friendship with a hybrid Ender boy named Nathaniel. Although rather tall he was in fact timid. Athena waisted no time in telling you about her long adventures with Nathan by her side. Soon the name "Nathan" and “Nate” had become a house hold name for your family.

Of course you had met Nathan occasionally. Having seen him when you would walk with Athena to the nearby village. He was a kind and loving boy towards you, and all those he encountered. When he started bringing Athena flowers, you had more then a well known hunch of where it would lead to. As always, you were indeed right again.

One morning Athena was a bit restless in her seat at breakfast. While you fed your young toddler, you couldn't help but wonder if she was ok. You were the type of mom to let your children come to you with their issues on their own terms. Figuring to wait until they were comfortable with bringing things up, then being pushed to tell you. It worked with your sixteen year old daughter and your twelve year old son. So you planned to roll with that for your soon two year old son as well.

Soon enough she did budge. "Mom?" She asked softly. You turned to her, showing she had your full attention. She cleared her throat and poked at her egg a bit. "I invited Nathan over for today... I hope that's ok..." she asked a bit shy. Something was up, but you weren't about to pry.

"Of course that's ok Thena, he’s your friend" you smiled softly to her wanting her to feel at ease. Her brother narrowed his eyes a bit. You watched your son from the corner of your eye. He knew something. Your middle child took after Techno expression wise. The look he was currently giving his sister, was the same look Techno gave you when he knew you weren't telling the full story. With your youngest in front of you asking for more food, you slowly moved your attention away from the eldest children.

"Will dad be coming home today?" Your son asked curiously. You herd the bemusement lace his tone. You hummed and put a spoonful of oatmeal into the toddlers mouth.

"I believe so. Phil and Your Father said they wouldn't be long with the Mansion run" you said looking over to him. With your youngest now almost two Techno started up his usual runs again. When you had a baby in the house he was always hesitant to leave for too long. Of course you always told him you would be fine. Thankfully your children were well behaved and easy to keep track of- that is unless your oldest son felt the urge to annoy his sister of course.

It was about a little after noon before Techno and Phil had returned home. Your toddler was the first to see them from the window of course. Calling out "daddy" and insisting that you all go out to meet him. With no hesitation you scooped up your baby and wondered out with your kids. Athena was smiling brightly. But you could also tell she was on edge.

When Techno rode up to the house your toddler was thrashing for him. Only easing up when he was handed to Techno. Your husband had the largest smile as he took his son in his hands. Asking if he was missed. You gave Phil a warm welcoming smile. Hugging him when he dismounted from his horse.

While you stood by Phil talking about the trip, your youngest children were hugging there father when he came down. Happy to have him home once again.

Athena, although overjoyed that her dad was home. Found her attention drawn to the young Ender boy approaching from the tree line. The two hugged happily when he met up with her.

Techno had traded your toddler to Phil. Making room within his arms for you. With your body pressed up to his, you turned your head to give him a warm welcoming kiss. But instead paused to see Nathan and your daughter hugging. Techno, expecting a nice kiss started to pout. But he soon stopped when he saw a unfamiliar boy with his little girl.

You had previously met Nathaniel, however, Techno has not. He’s only herd about this boy. So he was a bit skeptical.

Athena didn't hesitate to bring Nathan over to your little family. With Techno and Phil in full armor, you felt a bit bad that shy Nathan had to meet them this way. Your sons stood with Phil, your youngest within his arms. You stood in front of Techno, your husband towering over you with only his hand on your shoulder.

"Who is this?" Techno asked, his eyebrow slightly raised in question. Athena smiled hesitantly. Nathan quietly looking Techno over.

"Dad... This is Nathaniel... That boy I always talk about" you smiled warmly at the boy. Saying it was nice to see him again. He gave you a shy, but warm smile in return. Techno's eyes lingered over Nathaniel. Almost summing him up. "Nate.. this is my Dad and Uncle..." she said pointing. Nathan stepped away from Athena's side. Slowly stepping up to you and Techno. With a hesitant arm he held his hand out to Techno for a handshake. When Techno shook Nathan's hand, the size difference was easy to spot. Where Techno had strong calloused hands, Nathans were limber, long, and soft. Easily one of his Enderman traits he possessed.

Techno didn't make direct eye contact. Having remembered when Ranboo stayed with you two years previously. Ranboo had off hand mentioned making eye contact was seen as a hostile move to Enderman.

"Its very nice to meet you finally, sir..." Nathan said rather quietly. Techno although on the fence. Didn't choose to try and be intimidating. Instead he kept his normal monotone voice.

"It's nice to meet you too"

Nathan ended up staying for dinner that night. Athena and Nathan mostly stuck together, but both were a bit nervous you could tell. But again you didn't push it.

After dinner Phil took the kids outside for a late night walk. Figuring he would leave you and Techno alone for a bit. Of course you weren't fully alone. Athena and Nathan stuck about. With the two sat together on the couch, Athena ended up falling asleep on Nathans shoulder.

Well you and Techno talked in the other room at the table, the last person you expected to see was Nathan. He quietly walked in and waited for you two to finish talking before he began. "I... I uhm, have something to ask you s-sir" Nathan began uncertain. You gave him a kind smile and motioned for him to sit.

When he sat he looked between you two. Mostly looking for reassurance from you so he could address Techno. Techno didn't push, he just calmly waited for the boy to speak. "A..Athena really cares about your opinion... And.. I... I know I want to do this right..." he was stumbling over his words. You could tell he was nervous. Quietly you just told him to take a deep breath. He nodded and did so. Waiting a moment before continuing. "W...with your permission as her Father... Could I please date your daughter?... S-she means the world to me... all I want is her happy..." Nathan was shying away from Techno. Almost expecting him to yell or something.

Techno watched a bit and thought on his words. Truthfully Techno was proud of this boy. Everyone was terrified to date his daughter, yet a shy Ender boy had purposefully stepped aside to ask him for permission. "I suppose I'll let you..." Techno said slowly. Nathaniel's shoulders visibly relaxed at Techno's words. Of course techno narrowed his eyes after, becoming serious "just know I was your age. If she ends up pregnant anytime soon, I'm coming for you" Techno meant it. Nathaniel went red and swallowed thickly before slowly nodding.

"Y-yes sir...."

#technoblade #technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #techno x reader #techno x you #fanfic #fanfiction #minecraft fanfiction #minecraft x you #dreamsmp x reader #tb

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rebeccalouisaferguson · 3 years

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"I always just rode the waves,” Rebecca Ferguson says with a shrug. The comment hangs in the air, as if the Anglo-Swedish 37-year-old is only now processing that a combination of currents and tides has led her not just to an acting career but to the brink of big-screen stardom.

“I’ve never been ambitious,” she says. “I’ve always thought that that was a bad thing.” She’s seen others in the industry consumed by constant striving and asked herself why she hasn’t hungered for fame since childhood, slept in cars outside castings, barged into directors’ offices or thrown herself in the path of a producer. “But should I not be burning for this? Out meeting people and networking for the next job?” says Ferguson, who has chosen the sort of quiet, private life outside the big city that so many actors claim to crave. “My life just took another turn. But I’ve always thought: Am I where I should be?”

At the moment, on this late July day, Ferguson is slumped in the backseat of a Mercedes-Benz sedan, crawling through rush-hour traffic on the M4 out of London. She is capping off a hectic week during a particularly busy period. Most immediately, she’s coming from a table read for Wool, the Apple TV+ adaptation of Hugh Howey’s bestselling postapocalyptic trilogy. Ferguson is both the star and, for the first time, an executive producer. “I’m sitting in all the different rooms, listening and learning like the students,” she says. She’s filming Mission: Impossible 7, her third tour of duty in the long-running series that first brought her widespread recognition. She’s also promoting the film Reminiscence, the sci-fi noir written and directed by Westworld co-creator Lisa Joy in which Ferguson stars opposite Hugh Jackman. And now she is starting a press push and festival prep for her role as Lady Jessica ahead of the much-delayed release of Dune (in theaters October 22), director Denis Villeneuve’s reimagining of Frank Herbert’s novel. “After this film, I think everyone will see what I see in her,” the filmmaker says. “She has a beautiful, regal, aristocratic presence, elegance. But that was not the main thing: The most important thing for me was that depth.”

After tracing a long, meandering path, Ferguson has landed in a rare and rarified position: ascendant in her late 30s (still an anomaly for women in the film industry) and sought after by some of the biggest names in the business. “When you meet Rebecca, you just see it. She’s very open, candid, collaborative, hardworking, funny—and not pretentious,” says Tom Cruise, who handpicked Ferguson to star opposite him in the Mission: Impossiblefilms, which are known for their demanding shoots. “She just rose to the occasion every single time.”

In February 2020, when the pandemic began, Ferguson left Venice, where she’d been shooting Mission: Impossible 7, and hunkered down with her husband, their 3-year-old daughter and Ferguson’s 14-year-old son from a previous relationship at their farm in Sweden. After four months, Ferguson returned to the M:I set and basically hasn’t stopped working since.

Dune has sat idle for far longer. By the time the movie premieres, more than two years will have passed since it wrapped. Ferguson recently asked to screen the film again: “I miss it,” she says. She ended up bringing along her Mission: Impossible co-star Simon Pegg. After the credits rolled, Pegg broke into a smile and wrapped her in a congratulatory bear hug. “That’s all I needed,” she says.

Despite being a sci-fi epic based on a novel from 1965, Dune feels “very timely,” Ferguson says, pointing to its handling of environmental issues, religious zealotry, colonialism and Indigenous rights. The plot of the film, which cost an estimated $165 million, centers on occupying powers battling for the right to exploit a people and their planet, named Arrakis, for melange (or spice)—the most valuable commodity in Herbert’s fictional universe, a substance that provides transcendental thought, extends life and enables instantaneous interstellar travel. “Spice,” Ferguson says, “is equally about the poppy and oil fields.”

Ferguson’s Lady Jessica is a member of the Bene Gesserit, a powerful secretive sisterhood with superhuman mental abilities. She defies her order by giving birth to a son, Paul (played by Timothée Chalamet), who may be a messianic figure. “She basically just f—s up the entire universe by having a son out of love,” says Ferguson. In her hands, Jessica is equal parts caring parent, protector and pedagogue. Among the skills she wields and teaches Paul is “the Voice”—a modulated tone that allows the speaker to control others.

The movie was shot in Norway, Hungary, Jordan and Abu Dhabi, whose desert landscape stood in for Arrakis. Filming there was particularly arduous, as temperatures exceeded 120 degrees Fahrenheit, limiting the shoot window to only an hour and a half each day at 5 a.m. and again at dusk. “We were running across the sand in our steel suits being chased by nonexistent but humongous worms,” Ferguson recalls, referring to the sand-beasts later rendered in CGI. “To be honest, it was one of the best moments ever. It was the most beautiful location I’ve ever seen.”

Back in London, Ferguson is approaching home. She leaves the following day for a small town on the coast of England, where she plans to spend her first vacation in two years and to do some surfing. “Let’s hope it’s good weather,” she says. “If not, I’ll surf in the rain.” Not that she’s the sort to paddle out into storm swells. “I think I’ve managed to stand on a board once in my entire life,” she says. “But it was quite a high. Complete surrender to the waves and total control all at once.”

Born Rebecca Louisa Ferguson Sundström to an English mother and Swedish father, Ferguson grew up bilingual in Stockholm. She immersed herself in dance from a young age, enjoying ballet, jazz, street funk and tango. Despite being shy and prone to blushing and breaking out when forced to speak publicly, Ferguson found she was at ease in front of the camera. She dabbled in modeling and then, at 15, attended a TV casting call at her mother’s urging. Ferguson ended up getting the lead role in Nya Tider (New Times), a soap opera that became wildly popular, splashing Ferguson’s face into Swedish homes five times a week.

When her role ended about two years later, Ferguson was adrift. She had no formal acting training to fall back on, no clear sense of how to steer a career and no major connections to the industry. She had a short run on another soap and appeared in a slasher flick and a couple of independent shorts, then…nothing. “I was famous in Sweden, but I didn’t really have an income anymore,” she says. “So I went and I worked in whatever job I could get.” That meant stints at a daycare center and as a nanny, in a jewelry shop and a shoe store, as well as teaching tango, cleaning hotel rooms and waitressing at a Korean restaurant. She eventually landed in a small coastal town named Simrishamn, where she lived with her then-partner and their toddler son, content to be a where-are-they-now celebrity.

When fame again came calling, Ferguson ran away. She was at the flea market when she recognized the acclaimed Swedish director Richard Hobert, and he saw her. As he shouted her name, Ferguson grabbed her son, who lost his shoes and sausage, and fled. “I panicked,” she says. “I don’t know why.” When Hobert eventually caught up to her, Ferguson tried to act nonchalant as he proceeded to tell her he’d admired her work and pitched her on the lead role in his next movie: “I’ve written this role, and I think I have written it for you. Do you want to read the script?”

Her work in Hobert’s A One-Way Trip to Antibes earned her a Rising Star nomination at the Stockholm International Film Festival. She quickly got an agent in Scandinavia, then one in Britain. On her first trip to take meetings in London, she read for the lead in The White Queen, the BBC adaptation of Philippa Gregory’s historical novels about the women behind the Wars of the Roses. Ferguson got the part, and her portrayal of Elizabeth Woodville, queen consort of England, earned her a Golden Globe nomination and the admiration of at least one Hollywood heavyweight.

Ferguson was in the Moroccan desert filming the Lifetime biblical miniseries The Red Tentwhen the assistant director whisked her off her camel. “We’re going to have to pause shooting,” he said as he asked her to dismount. “Tom Cruise wants to meet you for Mission: Impossible. We’re going to fly you off today.”

Cruise had seen Ferguson’s work in The White Queen and her audition tape and couldn’t believe she wasn’t already a major star. “What? Where has this woman been?” Cruise recalls exclaiming to his new Mission: Impossible director Christopher McQuarrie. “She’s incredibly skilled,” Cruise says, “very charismatic, very expressive. As you can tell, the camera loves her.” Ferguson landed a multi-picture deal to star opposite Cruise in the multibillion-dollar franchise. He and McQuarrie built out the role of Ilsa Faust for Ferguson, creating the anti-Bond girl, an equal to Cruise’s Ethan Hunt. “We could just see the impact she could have,” he says. “She’s a dancer. She has great control of her body, of her movements. She has the same ability to move through emotions effortlessly.”

Ferguson threw herself into the films and quickly found a shorthand with the cast and crew. “There was a dynamic that worked very well with all of us,” she says. “One of the things I absolutely love is doing all the stunts.” That physicality has given her a reputation as an action-minded actor. “It doesn’t matter that I’ve done 20 other films where I don’t kick ass,” Ferguson says. “Mission comes with such an enormous following. That was what made my career.”

Ferguson’s M: I movies bracket a number of films in which she played opposite marquee names: Florence Foster Jenkins, with Meryl Streep and Hugh Grant; The Girl on the Train, with Emily Blunt; The Greatest Showman, with Hugh Jackman and Michelle Williams; Life, with Jake Gyllenhaal and Ryan Reynolds; Men in Black: International, with Chris Hemsworth and Tessa Thompson; The Snowman, with Michael Fassbender; Doctor Sleep, with Ewan McGregor. And now Dune, opposite Oscar Isaac, Javier Bardem, Zendaya and Chalamet, whom she calls “one of the best actors, if not the best actor of his generation—of this time.” She was similarly impressed by Zendaya, who plays the native Fremen warrior Chani. “She’s quite raw and naughty and fun,” says Ferguson. “She has an enormous f— off attitude.”

When Ferguson first spoke to Villeneuve about appearing in the movie, “he started telling me about this woman who was a protector, and a mother, and a lover, and a concubine,” she recalls. “I was like, ‘I’m sorry. You want me to play a queen and a bodyguard? And you want me to kick ass and walk regally?’ I was like, ‘Denis, why would I want to do that? That’s the last thing I want to do.’ ”

After the call, Ferguson says, “I went downstairs to my hubby and said, Oh, my God, he’s amazing, but I’m not going to get the job. I just criticized the character.” Ferguson worried she was being cast as a stereotypical “strong female character,” where “it’s constantly, ‘She looks good, and she can kick.’ That is not what I want to portray.”

Ferguson hasn’t always been able to work with collaborators who’ve given her the space to question or opine. “I’ve been bashed down. I’ve been bullied,” she says, though she opts not to say by whom. That was never a concern with Villeneuve, who welcomed her critique. He and his co-writers had already decided from the start to make women the focus of their screenplay adaptation, and he promptly offered her the part.

“I want Lady Jessica to be at the center, the forefront. For me, she’s the architect of the story,” Villeneuve says. “I needed someone who will convey the mystery and the dark side of the film in a very elegant and profound way. Rebecca was everything I was hoping for. She’s so precise. She brought a beautiful, controlled vulnerability—it becomes very visceral on-screen.”

Ferguson vaguely recalls trying to watch the 1984 version of Dune, directed by David Lynch, in her youth, but she fell asleep. And she had never opened Herbert’s novel until being offered the part in the new adaptation. As she dug into the book, she says, she learned that her character was subservient and far more like a concubine, forced to eat alone in her bedroom, not spoken to and not allowed to speak. Ferguson ended up relying primarily on Villeneuve for her research and prep—his notes and comments, his references and the pages in the book he suggested she focus on. “I would feel ignorant not to have read Frank’s book at all,” Ferguson says, though she admits there are parts of the sprawling novel (which Villeneuve is splitting into two films) she’s only skimmed. “I have to finish it.” That will not happen on her upcoming vacation, however. “Absolutely not,” she says “I am surfing.”

By the way, if you saw, I am snaking on the ground, snaking around my room to get good Wi-Fi—it’s not some dance or yoga thing,” Ferguson says. “You have to do that in this old house.” It’s a week and a half after our first meeting, and Ferguson is at her new home, a more than 500-year-old property southwest of London that has, over the years, been home to numerous English Royals. It’s more spartan than stately now. “Empty except for a rock star,” she says, turning her phone’s camera to reveal a framed duotone poster of Mick Jagger that’s leaning against the wall. “We haven’t even started renovating.

Ferguson has returned from her holiday fortified and with renewed confidence, thanks in part to her success on the surfboard. “I went up nearly every time,” she says cheerfully, “but the waves weren’t very high.” She shrugs. “I was proud. I was up. I rode them, not the other way around.”

After years of going with the flow, Ferguson is eager to replicate that sense of control in her career. She values her role as an executive producer on Wool, she says, “because I am, for the first time, a part of it from the beginning.” She relishes weighing in on every aspect, from casting (the show recently added Tim Robbins) to cinematography to her character—which has not always been easy for her. “Why do I feel it’s difficult to speak up? I still battle with these things,” she says. Alluding to those times she was pushed around in the past, Ferguson says, “I was angry, but it was more me getting off at ‘How can I let that happen? Why am I letting myself react this way?’ And I take it with me to the next thing where I go, ‘OK, how do I stop that from happening?’ ”

She is learning that she can ride on top of waves without giving up her agency or maybe just let them break against her. “I want to feel I can go home and think, That was a hard day or that pissed me off—and that’s OK,” Ferguson says, with a nod and tight smile. “Because I still stood there as Rebecca. I didn’t shift.”

#rebecca ferguson #interview #dune interview #mi7 interview #wool interview #tom cruise #denis villeneuve #mission impossible #dune 2021

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calunasteria · 3 years

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please, xanny. | sanzu haruchiyo

"𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚."

- wherein sanzu haruchiyo falls in love. that's all. (i'm bad at summarising my stories, i'm sorry ><)

current word count: 3.1k

tw (throughout the series): mentions of drug use and abuse, manipulation (gaslighting) and toxic relationships, mentions of blood, death, and murder, rape (attempt), use of deadly weapons, slight nsfw (??) - kindly tell me if i missed one. thank you.

date started: 07/29/21 (wattpad) | 07/31/21 (tumblr)

date ended: -

01 ! please,xanny.

what was it? was it the alcohol? was it the food they ate earlier? maybe it was spoiled, or worse, maybe it has drugs? probably no.

maybe she's just overthinking things.

maybe she's just imagining all of this.

to say that she's inloveㅡ no, cross that out, to say that he's inlove is dangerous.

but how is it that the sanzu haruchiyo, bonten's number 2, is making her feel numerous things?

he reeked of instability, insanity.

yet his touch was as soft as the cotton, gentle like the wind, it was comforting.

say....

have you ever known what it felt like to drive on highways, with gnawing trepidation?

to taste betrayal and fondness while running on an endless tunnel of vague roads?

to be loved by none other than sanzu haruchiyo?

"welcome everyone, to our company's afterparty, please enjoy yourselves for tonight!" honey dripping voice echoed throughout the wide spaced room that is decorated with some dimmed and flashing lights, shimmering crystals plastered on the wall, extravagant leather couches, and large, black speakers booming with music. her soft, delicate hands then set the microphone down, as her wavy jet black hair bounced and swayed as she walked down the stairs with elegance.

"nakashima-san, the director wants to talk to you, he said to head towards the VIP area, over there." a small voice beside the stairs managed to squeak out, catching the girl's attention and turning her head to the direction he pointed at.

"did he told you the reason why he wanted to talk to me?" she asked, voice filled with a hint of irritation and tiredness - the complete opposite of how she sounded earlier on the stage. the boy shook his head, then uttered 'excuse me' before dashing away from his superior.

the girl then just sighed and walked towards the bar counter, which is the complete opposite of the direction she was told to go.

"one grey goose martini and a plain cranberry juice, please. thank you." she ordered as she sat down.

"wow, you're actually gonna drink tonight, kasumi? are your shits finally getting to you, girl?" the lady beside her stated with amusement as she popped out of nowhere, a glass of whiskey found in her hand, still laughing and smiling drunkenly.

"yes, kaoru. where the fuck were you? you were supposed to be the one to speak up front earlier to welcome the guests, not me, because i was the one who arranged this. and now boss said he wanted to talk to me about something." kasumi vented to her friend while her friend's grin just got wider, further infuriating her.

"whY THE HELL ARE YOU SMILING KAORU I-"

"calm the fuck down, kasumi, don't let boss get into your nerves, okay? its just me, so inhale, exhale. nice! see, just go drink your shits and talk to boss later. maybe hand in your resignation slip, you know?" kaoru laughed while wiggling her eyebrows and hugging kasumi.

the two talked to each other for a while before kasumi bid her goodbye and stood up to head to the direction she was supposed to go to earlier.

her heels clacked on the expensive marbled flooring while her black silk dress hugged her curvaceous body, gently flowing while walking.

upon reaching her destination, there she saw her boss with at least 4 women whispering and flirting with him, one on his lap and 3 beside him, along side with his other friends and acquaintances. they both shared a glance momentarily as kasumi forcefully smiled to her boss.

"ah yes, everyone, excuse me for i have something to finish up with my personal assistant." her boss announced to all the people around him, making kasumi uncomfortable and embarrassed, by all the stares she accumulated and daggers she got from the women who was flirting earlier with her boss.

"let's go, darling." sentence uttered by her boss before they left the place with him grabbing her wrist, and oh heavenly archons how irritated kasumi was because of her boss' actions and words.

she was practically being dragged away the from the event area, their shoes resonating throughout the empty hallways that are connected to the parking lot when she asked him, "excuse me sir, but where are we going? i thought you said you wanted to talk to me?"

"hmmm, yes. that's right, don't worry, kasumi-chan, we're just going to talk while where on a late night drive, and it'll definitely enlighten you. now get in the car." he ordered with flirty yet stern voice but kasumi did not budge at all - she just stared in disbelief to her boss, anger bubbling up within her.

"kasumi, we both know that i don't like repeating myself, now do what i said, please."

"i'm sorry but i don't think i'll go with you since we can talk here. so just say what you need to say so i can get on with my life, thank you." she declared cheekily.

"i said get in the car, why are yo-" he blurted out with annoyance but was cut off when kasumi said, "seems to me like you don't have anything to say, well i have one, i'm resigning, kitamura-san, i'll hand the file tomorrow, so if you have any requests, tell them to your next assistant." then proceeds to walk away that made her boss snap.

rushing towards her with malice and anger, with his system being controlled by the alcohol he consumed earlier, he grabbed kasumi's hair making her stumble and lose her balance, while the towering man held her waist with his left arm and his right arm held her face forcefully, and whispered to her from behind, "that's what i hate about you, you're so fucking stubborn, you and your smart ass mouth, i hate it so fucking much makes me want to shove my dick down your throat to make you obey me, and cry you bitch."

kasumi had chills run down her spine when she heard her boss mutter those words to her, and when she felt him grinding on her from behind ㅡ the last string of patience she had snapped in half, all she can see was red.

she used all her strength to stomp on the man's foot making him clutch down because of pain inflicted by her stiletto, releasing his hands that grasped her smaller frame. her hands then moved swiftly with anger to slap the man before her, knees being lifted up to kick his crotch making him to finally crumple down on the floor, silently mumbling profanities under his breath containing hatred.

"the next time you pull that stunt with me, or with other girls, i'll make sure you won't have something called dick after that." she threatened, voice laced with venom as she tried to wipe the ruffles that ruined her expensive, dusk colored dress.

"don't think you'll get away with this, bitch." the man croaked out while standing up, eyes filled with animosity, but then falling on his knees once again when a sharp, solid whipping sound tore through his thighs, vermillion colored blood gushing out of the gaping hole that was shot, followed by his shrill, agonized wail.

"seems like you grew stronger these past few years, kasumi-chan." a familiar voice grinned, few meters away from her.

"haruchiyo." she whispered under her breath, astounded.

***

"kasumi? are you listening?" a soft feminine voice spoke out, breaking the deep trance the raven coloured hair girl was in - chasmic ebony eyes stared at the person next to her, embarrassment creeping up in her system, realizing that she hasn't paid any attention to the words and sentences that her friend was telling her.

"i'm sorry, kaoru. what were you saying again?" she apologized, tuning her attention towards her half eaten sandwich that she was munching earlier.

"i was asking you if you know that boy over there, 5 o'clock," kasumi whipped her head towards the direction her friend gave her, eyes landing on a somewhat familiar person - he had a medium length hair dyed with bleach blonde, eyes glimmering like precious blue zircon gem, long and beautiful eyelashes that highlighted his daring eyes and a noticeable black mask covering half of his face. he looked so serene among the vast crowd filled with bustling people.

"sanzu?" she asked turning her head to her friend who's eyes sparked with curiosity and underlying suspicions.

"how'd you know him?" the petite girl squinted her eyes to her friend, making kasumi roll her ebony orbs. "i just happen to know his name. after all, he's in a gang, right? toman, i think."

"i wasn't aware that you know about gangs, kasumi-chan. perhaps you like their leader, huh." her friend teased earning another eye roll from her brunette friend. "i'm just kidding. its just that i haven't saw him without his mask. some people say he has nasty scar on both side of his mouth, and i don't know if its legit, but given the fact that he wears that mask, its probably true." kaoru shrugged and stood up to head to their class.

sanzu haruchiyo. he was definitely mysterious, kasumi mused, as she walked. he was quiet and he had a calm demeanor when he talks. they weren't close but they shared a small talk in the past, and usually its just about school, like each of their classes borrowing and returning some school supplies and other little things. she never even heard him speak more than 7 words. well, it wasn't a big deal, since she thinks that he's just an another person on this world who has probably their own shits to deal with. he was insignificant to her as she was to him. or so she thought.

their room was filled with silent mumblings, a heavenly boring stupor that kasumi tried to fight, heavily lidded eyes blinking slowly in the hopes of trying to understand their lesson - she was tired and sleepy and it was not long until their class ended, her mind being awakened once again like a newborn baby, because she's going home.

their house reeked of alcohol and despair, of cigarettes and sorrow - it was a hopeless sight. everything was a mess. kasumi then heard a faint coughing on their kitchen and there she saw her ill mother who's trying to wash the dishes with her frail arms, her thin and small frame found her daughter who rushed to her side to help her do the chores but then just told her to sit down and rest.

"mama, you're not supposed to be doing that. you're the one here who needs to rest, i can handle that. besides, where's papa?"

"he's out, i think. but don't worry, kasumi i'm almost finished. we can then eat dinner afterwards so you can talk to me about what happened today with you? you don't have work tonight, right sweetheart?" her mother's voice was definitely her haven, it was warm and sweet. "yes, sure." the girl replied, already at ease but then her phone chimed loudly, signaling that someone texted her - it was her co-worker that texted her he can't attend his shift, and was asking kasumi to be the one to replace him for the mean time.

what are the fucking odds.

her mother noticed the younger's change of emotion and asked, "who was it, sweetheart?" and it pained kasumi to leave her mother alone again but she needs to work. she needs the money. "i need to go, i actually have work since im covering for my co-worker's shift. i'll be right back, so make sure you eat your dinner. i love you." she kissed her mother on her forehead before she left.

***

"thank you, come again!" the girl chimed in, weariness evident in her voice. it was 2:30am and god knows how tired she was. this was supposed to be her day off but the universe just straight up said no.

"nakashima-san, i'm so sorry, you can now go, i'll take it from here on. please take this on your way home as a compensation for what you did to me. thank you! take care on your way home." her co-worker apologized, shyly smiling and blush evident on his cheeks as he handed her a plastic bag filled with some foods and snacks.

kasumi uttered her thanks, with a small smile as she went to change her clothes to go home already as all she wants to do right now was sleep and rest.

upon reaching the store's parking area for bicycles, she noticed that one its tires was flat. she sighed loudly, venting out her exasperation and frustration.

"well, guess i'll walk then. fuckkkkkk. this isn't my day huh." she groaned, muttering some profanities before going on her way home.

it was a chilly night, the breeze was crisp and wintry, with her trembling breath rising up forming a ghostly smoke, vanishing into thin air as she exhales. her whole body was quivering because her cardigan was too thin for this type of weather. kasumi hugged herself in hopes of warming herself up. the skies were tainted with midnight blue perfectly combined with the pitch black heavens decorated with gleaming constellations and stars, along with the dimly hanged moon.

her way home usually takes around 30-40 minutes with her bike, and around an hour and a half if one decides to walk. it was a peaceful and cold night not until she passed this one dark alleyway where there were 2 men laughing their asses off, and another one drinking away his life. kasumi paid no attention to the men and just picked up her walking pace to quickly get out of the picture when her left arm was sharply snatched by one of the men in the dark alleyway.

"hey pretty, wanna have fun with us?" the man grinned like a maniac, his yellow teeth visible and his breath smelled like rum and hostility combined together. the other men laughed like crazy while the last one ogled at kasumi's body.

"no, let me go you ugly bastards." kasumi snapped, snatching her hand away from the man, before turning away to run. she wasn't dumb to not pick up what in fuck was happening back there, so she tried to regain her composure by trying to find her phone to dial the number of her friend who's probably still awake by now to call for help when her hair was maliciously dragged backwards making her lose her balance only to fall on the ground and be dragged away. the plastic bag she was carrying along with her phone was now nowhere to be found.

only her hoarse cry for help was audible, she was too slow, too tired, too exhausted for all of the things happening to her - but her body was flailing so hard, trying to release herself from the man's tight grasp on her hair and it felt like its going to be ripped off her head anytime soon when they stopped on the same alleyway the men were previously drinking. "bitch thought she can get away with us, well let me tell you something sweetheart, we don't take no as an answer. plus you were wearing that thin-ass blouse, you're trying to seduce us after all so let's have fun shall we?" the bald headed man smirked while he held kasumi down on the ground.

she was terrified, frustrated, and she's doing her best to try and fight them all away. she was able to slap and kick the two of them, desperation was highly evident as she frantically scramble to her feet but that was as far as she can go for she was violently punched and slapped before she fell down with her vision getting hazy, tears streaming down her face non-stop as she lost all her energy to fight. everything was becoming blurry and she was now just hoping for everything to just end.

she was so lost in her train of thought that she didn't even realize that the men who were trying to break and ruin her were now out cold, laying on the freezing ground while a man towered over them.

"stand up." was all kasumi heard when she snap back to reality and saw a figure standing before her, wearing an all black outfit - black jacket, black jeans, and a black mask. his straight bleach colored hair was neatly tied up in a ponytail too.

"stand up." sanzu repeated as kasumi tried to stand up, still shaken by what happened to her and the picture of the scene before her. kasumi then felt something drape over her shoulder when sanzu came near her, his mint and delicate masculine scent filling her senses.

"follow me." was all the boy said before he exited the alleyway leaving her all alone with his jacket that he gave her. following his footsteps, while tightly clutching his jacket, she saw a shiny, and expensive looking car few meters out the alleyway with sanzu standing near it, and as she got closer to him, she heard him say, "get in."

not wanting and not having enough energy to fight nor say anything, kasumi just silently obliged to what he said. after getting inside the vehicle, sanzu followed afterwards, turning on the car and driving to god knows where - kasumi was drained, and she couldn't care less what would happen anymore although she wanted to say and atleast utter her gratitude towards the boy beside her, but her voice just seems to be gone. the car ride with him was silent, but it wasn't awkward. it wasn't uncomfortable. it wasn't scary either, rather, it was surprisingly comforting.

moments later, kasumi saw a familiar house outside her window when sanzu pulled up and opened the door for her, handing her some of the things she brought earlier - her bag and her phone.

he didn't talk, he didn't say anything before heading out and going inside his car once again, and driving away.

kasumi was dumbfounded.

she have so many questions whirling over her head like, how did he know my place? why did he do that?

she entered their house with her head aching - cross that out, with her whole body aching, everything that happened to her this day had taken a toll on her. she was definitely traumatized and shaken by what happened. with her literally dragging her body towards her room desperate to rest and lay down on the soft and smooth mattress.

and even though she was almost raped, and potentially murdered, the one thing that stuck in her head was sanzu. sanzu haruchiyo.

and she swore to find him tomorrow before she fell into a deep slumber.

#bonten #bonten tokyorev #sanzu haruchiyo #tokyo manji gang #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers kokonoi #toman sanzu #toman gang

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writingblock101 · 4 years

Text

Hooky (Jason Todd x Reader)

Request for @pickle-todd: Jason + “If we get caught, you can’t speak English and I’m deaf! (I don’t know why it won’t let me tag you)

Word count: 1,600

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish

“You know, I thought I got out of having to go to these galas when I died,” Jason rolls his eyes as you straighten his tie.

“Guess you should’ve stayed dead then,” You quip, tucking his black tie into his jacket.

Jason groans dramatically and Bruce clasps him on the shoulder.

“If you don’t want to go to the galas, then don’t get caught sabotaging the Batmobile radio,” He grins, patting him on the shoulder.

“I can’t believe I took that bet,” Jason grumbles, glaring at Tim.

“I told you not to,” You remind him.

“But I knew he’d be too stubborn not to,” Tim grins viciously. “And now you have to suffer with me.”

“Well, I’d appreciate if next time I don’t get pulled into the crossfire,” You remark, adjusting your shoes which you knew you would be kicking off before the end of the night.

“Sorry, babe,” Jason hooks an arm around your waist and kisses your head. “That’s what you get for dating a dumbass.”

“I should’ve escaped when I could,” You tell Damian.

“Don’t pretend that you weren’t warned,” Damian reminds you.

“I’ll listen next time,” You promise. “But he’s kind of cute, so I’ll keep him for now.”

Damian rolls his eyes.

“He’s not worth it.”

“Hey!” Jason protests.

“We’ve got guest to greet!” Bruce expertly and very subtly defuses the building argument between his second eldest and youngest.

Smart move on his part. Arguments between Jason and Damian rarely end cleanly.

“We’re “fashionably” late,” Tim rolls his eyes. “Why do we have to greet anyone?”

“I don’t understand the reasoning of being purposefully late,” Damian rolls his eyes again.

“Well, you see kiddo, Brucie over here has to play the stupid billionaire and fashionably late is something only dumbass rich people do,” Jason explains with a shit-eating grin.

Bruce narrows his eyes.

“Watch it, or I’ll tell the press you two are engaged.”

Jason narrows his eyes right back.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

You smack Jason’s arm.

“Stop running your mouth and getting me dragged into this crap!”

“Should’ve listened to me,” Damian sing songs in the background.

“You’ve been hanging around Dick too much,” You groan, recognizing Dick’s sing-songy tone that Damian seemed to have picked up.

“At least I haven’t chosen to spend time with Todd.”

“Listen you little shit--” Jason starts.

“Alright, let’s go!” Another brilliant situation diffusion by Bruce.

To his credit, it does work because when he pushes open the doors to the large ballroom, multiple people’s attentions turn to the Wayne family and co. While Bruce and Tim begin mingling with various business partners, you and Jason slip away from the crowd. Jason snags two flutes of champagne off a nearby waiter and hands you a glass.

“You look beautiful tonight,” He compliments, clicking your glass.

“Thank you,” You smile, taking a sip. “You look very handsome.”

Jason smiles at you and opens his mouth to say something else, but he’s cut off by a shriek.

“Jason!” An old cougar who’s always had the hots for Jason, especially after his major growth spurt with his return to the land of the living bustles toward you two. “Is that you?”

Jason groans and tosses back the whole flute in one shot.

“Come on, babe,” You hook your arm in his. “Let’s go be sociable.”

He groans again but puts on a charming smile.

“Mrs. Young, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“Oh please,” Mrs. Young waves him off. “I’ve told you, call me Melany.”

“Right,” Jason smiles tightly. “Melany, I’m sure you remember my girlfriend,” Jason gestures to you.

Melany narrows her eyes at you for a moment.

“Oh, yes of course, um... “ She pauses, seeming to not remember your name.

You’re not sure if she truly doesn’t remember your name, or if she’s attempting to make you feel insignificant. If so, she doesn’t succeed.

“Y/N,” You remind her with a sickly sweet smile. “It’s lovely to see you again.”

“Of course!” Melany lightly taps her head. “I’m sorry, the common names slip my mind, dear!”

“It’s quite alright,” You internally roll your eyes, knowing fully well she wouldn’t forget Jason’s name despite his name being more common than yours.

“Jason, give me a hug!” She demands. “I haven’t seen you in months.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Jason says reluctantly, but releases your arm and allows Melany to pull him forward harshly.

Your eyebrows shoot up when you notice her hand starting to drift downward, but luckily Jason breaks away quickly.

“Come on, boy, let’s see if your dancing skills have improved,” Melany insists, dragging Jason to the dance floor.

He helplessly looks over at you with panic in his eyes, but you can’t do much more than a shrug. Unfortunately, Jason is very well versed in how to deal with Melany Young, but that doesn’t make the experience any more pleasant.

“Excuse me,” You turn to see a gentleman roughly Bruce’s age smiling at you, a little more predatory than you would like. “Can I bother you for a dance?”

You suppose this is karma.

“Of course!” You insist with a fake smile.

As predicted, the man who introduced himself as Justin, was handsy. Multiple times you had to yank his hands up to keep them from slipping down to your ass. Unfortunately for you, Justin wasn’t the only man trying to cop a feel on the dance floor tonight. Once the song was over, another man sweeps in to dance then another man after that. After the third song, you see another man moving to speak to you when someone clears their throat behind you. Thankfully, you turn to see Jason looking a bit pissed off. He seems to have noticed your struggle with wandering hands tonight.

“Bill,” He greets tightly. “Mind if I take my girlfriend back?”

“By all means,” Bill gestures.

Jason sighs but takes one of your hands, the other resting on your hip. You place your free hand on his shoulder, grateful to be dancing with your boyfriend and not another creepy man.

“Bruce is lucky this is a charity ball because if I saw one more hand slide down your back, someone would be going home in an ambulance,” Jason growls to you.

You smile, pressing a kiss to Jason’s jaw.

“Good thing I have Red Hood to scare them off.”

“I should’ve broken their hands.”

“It would’ve been satisfying,” You admit. “But way more trouble than it’s worth.”

Jason looks down at you.

“Not to me, it wouldn’t. You’re worth that and more.”

“You see, that would be really cute if you weren’t talking about literally breaking people’s hands.”

Jason laughs, pulling you close for a moment to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Come on, I’m tired of being groped by old horny women, let’s go get some real food.”

“Gotta love the casual sexual assault that comes with rich people,” You roll eyes. “But we can’t just leave. Bruce is going to notice we’re gone.”

“Oh trust me,” Jason glances over at Bruce, surrounded by women. “He won’t notice a thing.”

“You know, if he was actually Brucie Wayne, I’d believe you,” You admit. “But he’s not. He’s going to notice.”

“Well, it looks like we’ll have to be sneaky,” Jason grins with a quick kiss. “Come on,” He takes your hand, leading you to the back of the ballroom.

You both watch Bruce carefully and wait until his back is fully turned then dart for the door. You can’t help but giggle as you two jog down the long elegant hallway toward the kitchen.

“No, wait, Jason,” You tug his arm to a stop. “If we go to the kitchen, we’re definitely going to get caught!”

“Don’t worry,” Jason insists. “If we get caught, you can’t speak English and I’m deaf!”

“As great as that plan is, I don’t think that’ll work on your family,” You roll your eyes.

“You underestimate my acting skills,” Jason insists, tugging you toward the kitchen again.

You let him but roll your eyes again.

“I’ve seen your acting skills. They’re nothing to be proud of.”

“Tell that to Melany.”

Okay, he’s got a point.

“Hey, wait a second,” You frown. “Why am I the one who can’t speak English and you’re deaf? Don’t you know five other languages or something?”

“Just make one up!” Jason shrugs.

“What?” You laugh. “That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard!”

“It’ll be a language from a small, little known country! Trust me, it’s foolproof.”

“Yeah, maybe against a five-year-old!”

“Hey! I resent that!”

“Master Jason, Ms. Y/N,” A voice interrupts from behind you.

You both freeze but slowly turn around, looking a little guilty, to see Alfred watching you with an amused smile.

“The gala is not in the kitchen, perhaps you got lost?” He offers.

You smile awkwardly while Jason pretends to not have heard Alfred, gesturing to his ears with a confused expression. You close your eyes for a moment to resist the urge to face palm. He’s really going for it.

Alfred raises an eyebrow at Jason’s antics and you bite your tongue to keep from laughing. He signs something, which you will admit that it’s impressive that Jason actually knows any sign language. Alfred chuckles with a fond smile.

“I recall Master Bruce often creating elaborate plans to sneak out of these galas as a young boy, although, I do advise you next time to have a better plan,” Then Alfred turns his back and wanders down the hall.

Jason grins and takes your hand again.

“Thanks, Alfie!”

“You’re ridiculous,” You laugh as you two continue down the hall away from the gala.

“I told you, foolproof!”

“No, it absolutely was not!”

“I totally sold that with my amazing acting,” Jason insists.

You roll your eyes.

“Okay, babe. Whatever you say.”

Jason grins, kissing your head.

“So, where do we want to go first with our new found freedom?”

“I could go for a Frosty.”

“Wendy’s it is!”

Alfred needs a raise for putting up with all these fools.

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #red hood headcanons #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #brucie wayne #batman #dc #request #protective! jason

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no-heart-no-soul-t · 4 years

Text

BeachBoy JaeHyun imagine

had soft beachy hours

pairing: NCT beachboy!JaeHyun x Reader

genre: fluff, small angst

warnings: some language, inappropiate behaviour to the girl (JaeHyun is angel DW! :3)

You looked at Mark Lee, your roommate, your bitch, your BFF, as if he just told you he was getting married with his ex, who cheated on him with his enemy, Yuta. “You did what?,” your voice filled with confusion and anger. “I might have signed us to work at a beach bar?,” he answered, backing away from you, scared of his own life. “But why meeee? You know I hate these places!,” you cried out, your introvert self panicking. “It’s not that bad… you will only give out drinks and food,” he shrugged, side hugging you. “But, I have TO TALK TO PEOPLE!,” you shrieked. “Hey, it’s really gonna be okay. The pay is really good and maybe you will finally find someone who will take your virginity,” he said chuckling. “You. Have exactly three seconds to run away.” When he didn’t move and just smiled at you, you started to slowly counting down while walking over to him. “Three,” you said and started chasing him around apartment, telling him he will die when you catch him.

It was only 8AM the next day, and you were already standing in front of the manager of the bar. “Can you two start tonight 8PM sharp? Our two other employees can’t make it today and we don’t have anyone else to put on shift,” the manager looked up at you two full of hope. “Yeah sure, me and Y/N will be here 7:50 for sure,” Mark said and you looked at him shocked. Sure he was laid back about this, because he was always at some clubs partying and sometimes helped behind bar. But you never went to a club let alone worked at bar. He just gave you reassuring smile and took you out of the office. “Mark, I know, you know how to work at this type of place, BUT I DON’T!,” he just massaged his temples and dragged you home. At home he showed you how to make basic drinks and how to talk with customers.

It was already 5PM and Mark already got out of shower, ushering you to take yours and start getting ready. While you were taking shower Mark went to your room to pick an outfit for you. “Jesus, she really only has hoodies and jeans,” he mumbled while going deeper in to your closet. After another five minutes he found nice white crop top with flowy long sleeves and baby pink high waisted shorts, “These will do,” he said when he heard you exiting bathroom. “Hey, Y/N, wear these, you can pair them with sneakers,” he handled you your clothes and you looked at him shocked, for the millionth time this day. “Ya, I don’t I will good in this.. Mark really…,” you looked at the clothes nervous, not confident at all. “You will pull this up, just let your hair down and put soft makeup on, don’t worry,” he smiled reassuringly, going to the living room to wait for you. You did as he said, puting some soft brown smokey eyes and soft pink lip gloss.

It was 10PM, working for over two hours and you found yourself enjoying this job. It wasn’t anything what you expected, actually. So far no rude customers, no drunkyards. Everyone was even understanding to you, that this was your first time working at a bar. You were going to the table to give customer a drink but you accidentally slammed in to someone. It was a tall, buff man, maybe in his forties, “Oh, I am so sorry I didn’t mean to..,” you said nervously. And he went off, “How fucking dare you? You don’t have eyes? This is Gucci!,” he started screaming at you. Your eyes were stinging with tears. He raised his hand, getting more angrier, and was going to slap you. But the impact never came. When you lifted your head you were expecting Mark to stop the man, but this guy wasn't Mark. He was much taller and had some elegance to him. “Now, don’t yell and hit our employees, especially women,” the mysterious guy said with deep, warning voice. “And who you think you are, kiddo?,” said the angry man, his arm still held by the tall handsome guy. “Huh, I am the son of the owner of this place, Jung Jaehyun, it’s nice to meet you. And now. Leave,” Jaehyun said looking straight in to rude man’s eyes. “Sure you are, kiddo. Call the manager, y’all pay for this shit, it’s limited,” rude man demanded, looking up to Jaehyun’s eyes, not backing away. Jaehyun just took out his phone and called someone, “Hey, it’s me can you come to the bar on the beach?.. Yeah someone wants to talk to you, dad.” The man just laughed, “I should believe you after this? Mr. Jung’s son is in New York.” Jaehyun just smiled at him and stood still between you and the man. After few minutes of the man yelling at Jaehyun for lying and at you for paying for his ruined clothes, tall, handsome man in expensive suit came. He looked like an older version of Jaehyun for sure, and the man looked at him, all smiles, “Mr. Jung! It’s nice to see you again!,” and he shook Mr. Jung’s hand. “So, Jae you called me because Mr. Smith wanted to see me? I thought it was something more important,” Mr. Jung shook Mr. Smith’s hand and looked at Jaehyun. “Yes, father, first he yelled at our new employee and almost hit her, and second, he said I am still in New York, when I am already back in California for three months. You didn’t tell anyone I was back?,” Jaehyun said, standing next to his father. “Wait? He tried what? So what did the employee? Where are they?,” Mr. Jung asked looking around. Mark already next to you, pushed you their direction softly. He looked at you, seeing that you were crying before he came. “Now tell me, miss, what happened?,” he asked calmly as if talking to small child. Well, he ain’t wrong, you felt like a child at that exact moment. So you told him that you accidentally spilled the drink you were bringing to another table on Mr. Smith. And Jaehyun added the other details of Mr. Smith yelling and trying to hit you. “Mr. Smith, I didn’t think you were that type of man to yell and hit women. Could you please leave my bar and never show up here again?,” Mr. Jung said calmly, but it scared you and Mr. Smith too. He just apologized and left as quickly as possible, without looking back. Mark came and hugged you to his side, “We are sorry for causing trouble. It will never happen, I promise,” and you nodded your head, saying small sorry and sniffling. Jaehyun and his dad just looked at you two bowing your heads and said it was nothing, “I hate him anyways, so it’s really not a big deal,” Mr. Jung joked and waved, going inside saying he want to talk with managers.

You looked up at Jaehyun and went to him slowly, “Thank you, Mr. Jung,” you said quietly, scratching your neck. He chuckled, “Please, call me Jaehyun. I am maybe two years older than you. And it’s nothing. That man doesn’t have any manners,” he continued, smiling down at you. “R-right.. J-jaehyun… can I make you a drink as a thanks?,” “Sure.” He was sitting in front of you on a bar stool, watching you mix his drink, which you didn’t tell him what was, ��So, you won’t like poison me or something right?,” he joked and you looked at him shocked he would assume something like that about you. “No, no. It’s a drink that Mark always makes for me. It’s called ‘Cherry Bomb’. It’s really good… I promise no poison, no drugs,” you softly smiled, adding ice to the shaker. After few shakes you poured liquid in tall glass with more ice and cherries. Jaehyun took a sip while looking at you. When he saw that you are looking back he smirked against the straw and winked at you. You looked away, hoping he didn’t see your face go cherry red. “Hmmm, it’s really good, you weren’t lying. I will come here more often from now on,” he said with husky voice. You just nodded head and went to take care of other customers while leaving Jaehyun alone. Sometimes when you looked his way, you saw him staring at you, with these eyes that held something you didn’t understand. You went to one of the tables, to give them their orders, and Mark stood in front of Jaehyun, who was looking at your ass, “You know, she isn’t type of girl just casually sleeping around. She is still a virgin,” Mark said to Jaehyun who turned around looking at him with his ears going red, “Sorry, couldn’t help myself. She looks good. So you are Mark huh?,” Jaehyun took a sip looking at Mark. “Yeah, we are best friends and roommates. So I am making sure no one will play with her,” he warned Jaehyun and looked at you coming back from table. “I am not that type of man, don’t worry,” Jaehyun answered while also looking at your smiley face. “I hope so, if you toy with her, you are dead.”

It was 2AM when you were leaving with Mark, bar slowly closing down. When you were already in front of the bar, going to Mark’s car you heard your name getting called. You looked behind you to find Jaehyun running your way, “Hey, Y/N. Can I get your number? I want to talk to you more and send some memes,” he said all smiles. You looked at Mark not understanding this situation and he just shrugged, going inside car. “Eh, yeah.. sure..” and you put your number with your name in his phone. “Thanks, lovely. See you guys around and goodnight,” he said while opening the door to the car for you and waving at Mark. “Huh weird don’t you think so?,” you asked Mark who was focusing on the road. “No, I don’t think so. You charmed him with your fine ass,” he joked and you wanted to smack him, but refined from doing so, because he was driving.

Three weeks passed by like nothing. You were texting with Jaehyun back and forth, meeting at the bar when you had a shift. You two became a really good friends. Mark also became friends with Jaehyun and his friend, Johnny. You four were always loud at the bar, getting an earful from managers all the time. You and Mark would instantly stop, loving your jobs, but Jaehyun and Johnny would make more noise, trying you two to make laugh. When you laughed Jae and John would get literally kicked out of the bar, making you laugh harder. “So, what you doin tonight?,” Jaehyun asked while sipping on your new drink called ‘Rainbow Punch’. “Working, duh,” you answered rolling your eyes and giving customer who was sitting next to Jaehyun her drink, she laughed, finding this amusing. “Geez, you know what I mean, lovely,” he said while pouting your way. To say that didn’t move your heart would be a lie. Knowing each other only for three weeks and catching feeling this quickly scared you. But you eventually didn’t mind. Knowing this won’t last long. “Ok, ok drama queen… what do you want to do after I finish work,” you asked while mixing another drink for two customers in front of you. “Hm, let’s take a stroll on the beach, just the two of us,” he said casually. “Sure,” you said simply doing your work. You went to the tables, serving them, when you felt someone grabbing your ass. “Could you, please, take your hand of my butt?,” you kindly asked the male. “No. You look too good to not get touched,” he said smirking that sick smirk. You just rolled your eyes, trying to walk away, but he held your hand so strongly, you thought it might break. “HEY! Leave me!,” you screamed not fazing him. He leaned closer, trying to kiss you but you felt yourself getting pulled away in to a strong chest. “Don’t touch my girl,” Jaehyun said, with deep voice and anger present. You looked at him shocked that he called you his girl. After that he dragged you away, to the beach.

“Jae! I didn’t finish my shift!,” you called after him but he didn’t budge. When you were already on a beach, you realized it was that part where no one came to. Only you four, finding it relaxing. “Jae, what are we doing here?,” you asked looking around and then at him. He came closer, taking your face in to his hands softly, “You okay? Did he hurt you?” “No… but he might have if you didn’t come.. so thank you,” you said looking down. “Come here, lovely,” he hugged you tightly, whispering sweet nothings. You pulled away, wanting to say something, but… he suddenly kissed you. It was a sweet kiss, full of promises. Full of love. You felt at peace, but you didn’t know if it was because of surroundings or because of Jaehyun. The kiss eventually became deeper, hungrier. He lifted you up, carrying you over to the rock, sitting you there. “I wanted to do this the first time I laid my eyes on you,” he confessed making you blush. “I know, Y/N, we know each other really shortly, but I fell in love with you. And I am not saying this for fun.. I mean it, angel,” he looked deep in to your eyes, his voice becoming softer and quieter. You didn’t know what to say or do.. so you just kissed him softly on lips, and he kissed you back instantly. After few minutes of making out he pulled away, breathless and smirked, “Well, you made me hard, love. And you are gonna take care of it, in my bed,” you looked at him nervously, “But… I have… never done this..,” embarrassment present all over your being. “Don’t worry,” he stroked your cheek lovingly, “I will be soft and gentle. I promise.” If someone asked you, what was your best night ever. It would be this night.

#jung jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #beachboy!jeahyun #nct scenarios #jung jaehyun imagines #nct jaehyun imagines #nct jaehyun scenarios #short story #ff #short ff #jaehyun x reader #was bored again sorry.

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polygamyff · 4 years

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22. Part 2

“Khaleesi!” whistling at her “come here, leave the air hostess alone bitch” she ran towards me and then jumped at my hand but I moved it “she don’t stop does she?” Shawn said smiling “no, she mad hyper. The fuck you get this dog from” having to deal with a hyper ass dog on the jet “come, sit” patting the seat “it cost me so much, she was the prettiest one ever, look at how pretty she is” looking at the side of me, Khaleesi is stood on her back legs with her paw on the seat, her tongue and her ears all floppy “why are you trying to make me like you?” she is beautiful but annoying “come” patting the seat again “jump up” she moved away “I do appreciate this though, for coming. We ain’t seen each other in so long, since my birthday? It’s been long, you getting too busy for me” Shawn laughed “I am trying to not be that, I been wanting to come to California be with you all. I want to see your home, I want to see my niece. I am so happy for you, you sent me the picture of her. You right, she got Robyn’ nose, maybe she will have your extremely large forehead?” putting my finger up at him “but then you told me what you doing, helping the youth of today. You know California niggas are a different breed, if you can help a hand full of them to not be on the streets, that would be good. I want to be involved and I will be there and if they can, they can work with me. I think it’s dope what you are doing, brings good publicity to you also. Yo, when I saw you on CNBC. I was walking to my office and by the break out room I stopped and walked back, I saw this light skin nigga with blonde hair. I had to watch and then when he said only on paper I ended up screaming laughing but then the workers just stared at me, I was like that’s my nigga right there” dapping Shawn “I had to lay it out you know what I mean, I just did it. It’s gained actually, it worked. The stock market went up, so it’s good but on god. You get noticed, you know what I am saying?” Shawn nodded his head “I do, Robyn will beat those bitches though and Malik. Why didn’t you be your brother’ assistant?” Shawn said to Malik “I ain’t going to have him making me do his shit work, I’ll pass” Malik is good but he is lazy good, he will do the bare minimum.

Shawn hit my arm, looking away from my phone “is that Robyn?” he pointed out of the car window, bringing my head forward so I can see her. I chuckled “yes, that is my baby. She gone big Shawn” Robyn still looks so sexy, wow. My women is the bomb “there goes Leon” I said, he is coming with us. I didn’t even know “I hate this, why wear heels! She is walking down those steps, my god!” she is so annoying “not going to lie though bro, your woman is the first woman I have seen and she looks beautiful still, wow. Like she legit looks flawless” punching Shawn’ arm “stop look at her” Shawn laughed out as he opened the car door “what are you doing here?” hearing Robyn say, Shawn got out of the car. Sitting back in the seat “I came to see you and you have now changed a lot, the bump has come out. Also you can sit in the front” my woman looking all delicious, I like it “aww thank you” looking to the side of me, seeing Robyn’ hand with the engagement ring on. Makes me smile, that is mine now “it’s so good to see you Shawn, thank you for getting out. Seeing as Maurice can’t get his skinny ass out of the car” Robyn finally sat in, holding her bag out to me. Grabbing her bag “you’re mean to me” Robyn closed the car door and she looked over at me, Shawn ain’t wrong Robyn is looking so beautiful, she made me froze looking at me “how?” she asked and I am just staring at her “uhm, just saying” Robyn took her bag from me, Khaleesi barked “awww oh my god, you bought her. Give me her” see why I hate that dog “aww thank you Malik” looking in the car “you all in, Leon. Don’t act like you don’t like being in the middle” I smirked “be quiet, you’re going to make me blush” I knew Leon would enjoy it.

I hope the dog pees on her, she is showing such love to her “mommy loves you” I mimicked her “you’re so jealous, stop it. Did he look after you girl? Was he nice, I bought her a bed. I bought it here and I forget the code and the security wouldn’t let me in” Leon screamed out laughing “oh my god Maurice, it was so funny. They said who are you, and then Robyn didn’t even know the home number and he was like my man just bought it!? she started cussing them out and then she said I will tell Maurice Davenport on you” shaking my head laughing “Robyn, how did you forget!? Why didn’t you text me? I will text you the code, just remember it. They mad fussy because we are new around here” I wish I was here for that “then how did the builder get in!?” Robyn spat “I told them, I put them on the list on how long they going to be here but you don’t need to be on the list, you should have said to them your own name. Your name is on the home, you’re so basic” Robyn poked her lips out “I wanted the dog bed to be a surprise, it’s so cute. It’s pink and look what mommy got you Khaleesi, I got you a pink leesh” god help me, everything pink in that home.

I have a face on now, I feel like this dog gets more love. Staring at Robyn showing this dog a damn leesh, I mean what the hell “you looking mad jealous right now” Malik said “I am” Robyn looks so good though, she’s wearing a black bodycon which does make sure stomach come out even more “show daddy, go on baby” Khaleesi has her new leesh in her mouth, if that dog comes near me I will kick it “you’re so grumpy? Why? I have missed you” I shrugged “you show me no love, call me skinny first hand” Robyn walked over to me “oh stop Maurice, baby I love you. I just need to show my daughter love too, come here” Robyn held her arms open “but I come first right?” wrapping my arms around Robyn’ body “third” she said in my ear “it’s the baby, Khaleesi and then you” moving back from the hug “ok so it’s cancelled, we not looking in the house. Robyn is saying I am third in line, I want to be first” turning around, Robyn grabbed my arm giggling “Maurice Davenport, I love you. You mean so much to me, stop it. You’re my heart” Robyn moved around me “I love you, stop it” she better love me more than that.

I am so proud of my house, like this is my dream home and to have the people I love with me too “Maurice this house is like something I see on Desperate Housewives, I am speechless. Usually I would be screaming and shit but I can’t, it’s like I am in shock. Wow, this is beautiful” I grinned wide “thank you Leon, means a lot to know you like it but my baby’ room should be finished, come Robyn” grabbing Robyn’ hand, I want to see what he done. It better be how I imagined. With what I paid I better see that money’ worth in her room “I am coming” Robyn said “let me get Khaleesi” this damn dog, Robyn let my hand go and went to get the dog “Maurice, I am so proud of you. Honestly, I always assumed you wouldn’t have settled down this much, to be buying a family home like this. I am happy for you. I can’t wait to come over and and we can chill in the games room, can see niece. I am happy, also I think I am feeling a girl” walking up the steps with Shawn “really!? From Texas or?” I am happy for him “look, I know I am always saying I am feeling a girl and then I don’t but I like her. She is from California too, she is a store assistant so I mean she is a regular chick but I don’t know” he shrugged “how you meet her?” must be random, Shawn laughed out loud “don’t laugh, I tried Tinder but we got on. We ain’t met yet at all, but we always talking and all that. We meeting while I am here” patting his back smiling “my nigga, she pretty though?” placing my arm around him “she pretty as fuck, Cali girls are beautiful now. Her butt makes me hungry” I snorted laughing.

Placing my hand on the door handle “I am nervous you know, I want this bedroom to be perfect” they acting like I am crazy but I am not, I am just wanting things to be perfect “it’s a damn baby room, and Maurice that baby crib is still in the apartment” Leon pointed at me “we are using that, it’s going to be put in the bedroom, calm down” I had the plan, pushing open the double door open. My eyes instantly laid on to the grey/silver baby crib with a princess crown over the crib and pink material draped over her crib “oh my god” I said, my eyes roamed around the room, from the changing table, the nursing chair, the chandelier, the plush cream carpet “this is so elegant, Maurice” Robyn came up from behind me hugging me “oh wow, baby!” her voice broke “she is going to love it, wow. She is going to love you so much, oh my god” my smile grew walking over to her crib “I am speechless, this is how I imagined it “do these letters have Swarovski crystals in them?” Leon asked “I think so” leaning down into the crib, grabbing the card from under the soft toy. Opening the card “congratulations on your daughter, a toy Al” I read it out, that is sweet “this is everything to me, man. My daughter going to be living good” this is how I imagined it, he made it how I said so she can grow into it.

Watching the truck driver loading up my clothes on “so you telling me you never wear this? So these things you bought you didn’t wear?” Shawn asked “nope, why would I? I mean I don’t get the time to be wearing jeans and a top, it’s suits. These have got labels on them. So I am giving them away” I didn’t want shit going to waste “I am shocked with you Maurice, the clothes, the shoes” Robyn came outside “I got half these things for free too, it’s something I don’t wear and will never, I will probably buy more clothes anyways” which I will, I love fashion “you got a big ass hole in the ground, what is happening here” Shawn pointed out “my new garage, underground bro” Shawn walked off to see “oh shit, who the hell you think you are? Batman” shaking my head laughing “you going to be shocked bro, like when they done. This will look normal, it will look like a path. I will press a button and the ground will go down and I can park under the home. Then take the elevator up” Shawn’ mouth fell open “no way!! That is fucking crazy” amazing the shit you can do with money, I will feel like Batman with this.

I was fully expecting a youth centre, not a run down basketball court “don’t they have a place to go too? Like a building, how did you know about this?” I asked Robyn, I didn’t think this “well my parents do this, it’s not anything the government help with or anything. This is what we do, to help the youth. It’s like a gathering, but it’s just got out that this happens and we just try out best with what we got. They appreciate it so much, you may think this is run down as you would but they didn’t even have a basketball court” Robyn ready my mind “it’s not run down, it’s just the bare minimum. What about that building there?” I pointed “oh that, we have to buy it. We can’t buy an help the youth and do that, we can only do so much” letting out an oh, Robyn got out of the car. She bought the dog with her, she really bought it and that ugly pink leash “let’s go” shuffling out of the SUV, there is a few of us so I got a SUV. The truck is here which is good “we won’t get killed here” Shawn’ big ass mouth “I have you know the boys here respect my parents so they won’t” Robyn pointed at him, least it wasn’t me saying it.

“Take it” Robyn held the leash out to me “excuse me?” I stared at her “the dog, hold the leash” Malik laughed behind me “Robyn’ it’s for you” Robyn held it out to me “god” I breathed out, taking the leash “whipped!” Malik spat behind me, got me out here walking with a pink leash “good, you can hold that now” Robyn bought this dog just so I can hold this shit, is she being real right now, walking towards Terry and Thomas. Maybe I should keep this dog close to me, she does have a real gold and diamond encrusted chain “it’s so good you came Maurice!” Terry said in excitement, she is always happy to see me “I wouldn’t let you down like that now” hugging Terry “it’s good, I did tell them that we had a special person coming” moving back back from the hug “appreciate you inviting me, also I bought my friend along. He is going to also help me to help the youth. He’s an accountant , he runs his own family business, they have officers around the states. He’s also my best friend. Shawn this is Robyn’ mom Terry” pulling the dog towards me “I can tell that this is Robyn’ mom, wow. You are just as beautiful” Shawn is such a kiss ass but he ain’t wrong, Robyn does look like her mom.

It kind of suck that they do this shit out here, like they don’t have a place to call they own and there is a lot of kids here, various ages “I want to buy that building there Shawn, remind me” I said to him in a whisper, I have never done shit like this because what do I do “my man, you came!” that is the same kid from outside Robyn’ apartment “I did, I remembered. It was my personal decision to come, what is your name?” I asked him “Jason, I saw you. You famous but ain’t you married?” there would be one “I am divorced, shit is in the past now Jason. I am with Robyn now” he let out an oh “Robyn is dope, she told me I was too young for her. I tried, like I ain’t ugly but she wasn’t feeling me. Give me more years, some more chin hair. She will want me” he funny “you think?” he nodded his head “I hope you not annoying Maurice” Robyn walked over to us “come over here, you like speaking. Now speak to the youth” is she being real, I don’t like speaking to anyone.

Staring at Shawn, I rather he speak because what the fuck do I say to these “who here knows or have been in a Davenport hotel?” Thomas said, chewing on my bottom lip. They all put their hands up “I mean we all have but we have got the pleasure of having the man behind it all, it’s a family business that was passed down to him. He’s here, well I will let him tell you that” the fuck do I say, scratching the side of my head walking to the spot where Thomas once stood “believe or not I don’t like speaking in front of people, that’s not one of my main points. I for one wouldn’t want to listen to a person that has never been from the hood, that hasn’t come from California and wouldn’t know what struggle is, I wouldn’t want to hear it. I am very privileged and I would be a hypocrite to stand here and say do this and do that, I for one wouldn’t be stood here if it wasn’t for Robyn. Sometimes you just need that person to just give you a chance and we all don’t really get that so I wanted to do that. And with the help of Terry and Thomas they have told me about you all. I want to help or at least give you all the chance to be something, I am going to give my time and knowledge to you all. It’s just not something where I come once and never come back, I am dedicated to this. I am going to start something called the Davenport program which will help the youth” I am so awkward “I have a question?” Jason is a loud mouth, he be doing too much already “sure” I am preparing for his stupidity “are you engaged to my future wife?” looking over at Robyn, how do I answer that “yes we are” Robyn said it for me “I like you Maurice, you dope!!” he shouted, her parents don’t know and she just said that.

I am wondering if Thomas is mad with me, I didn’t ask permission “but Robyn, he is still technically married” Terry said “I said yes because he is the only man I will be with, I love him mom and he is my future. He sees the same for me so I said yes” Robyn said “I am sorry I didn’t ask, it wasn’t something I thought about. I just did it, I did it because like Robyn said there is the future and she is just that. I will be divorced in no time, your daughter is not second best either. Thomas I don’t want you hating me for it or being angry at Robyn” Thomas sighed out heavily “I assumed what was going to be next, I don’t doubt for one moment that my daughter is not first on you list because she is. I am not angry, I pray the day you are free though” nodding my head slowly.

#chrianna #chrianna ff #fanfic #fanfiction

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i4z-0892-il · 5 years

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Monster House 2

Summary: Posing as Newlyweds Sam and Y/n set out to investigate what’s killing the visitors of a secluded Inn, and attempt to keep their working relationship professional.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word count: 4000

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, some smut mentioned, language

A/N: This story is going to be Trope central so buckle in babes.

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Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Unpacking was quick, and quiet. Though with Sam silences weren’t particularly unsettling. There were hundreds of occasions where it was just the two of you left alone with a bottle of whiskey and a mountain of lore to sift through. You never felt like you had to make small talk to fill in the gaps, you never really felt like there were any gaps and when the chats did come up they flowed naturally and without expectation. Being with Sam was just comfortable, he was easy to exist beside. Which made him easy to fall for, easy to love.

Dean was always open about his designs toward you. More often than not you figured he was being facetious, but he hit on you frequently enough that it was obvious he’d go for it if only you’d ask. Sam on the other hand was always respectful, even when he had full opportunity not to be. Last year he’d found a particularly exciting tidbit of information that apparently couldn’t wait to be shared. So he walked into your room without knocking, when you’d just stepped out of the shower- hair wrapped in a towel and nothing else. You screamed at him in surprise, hitting the floor behind the bed to hide your bare ass. It took only a split second to register and he turned away just as quickly, face red as a tomato as he covered his eyes, calling: “Sorry! I should have knocked! Sorry!” He left and never brought it up again. But for the rest of the day he couldn’t look you in the eye without red creeping into his cheeks, and you couldn’t help but grin a little. From then on out he made doubly sure that he knocked before entering whatever room you were lodged in. If he didn’t hear a response he’d just wait, patiently, and knock again.

Though you’d never barged in on him, you were guilty of sneaking peeks at him where you could. You liked watching him, he was strong, and tall, and elegant. It wasn’t as if watching him hang his giant shirts was anything particularly invigorating. Still you enjoyed the view. His shoulder to waist ratio alone was enough to drive you crazy. And you’d seen him without a shirt on, you knew what was hidden under layers of canvas, plaid and cotton. A golden expanse of taut rolling muscle, all firm and warm and inviting. You were practically dripping at the thought of running your fingers through the soft hair on his chest.

Sam turned his head in your direction and you snapped your eyes back to your bag as if it were the most interesting thing in the entire world. Oh shoes, fucking fascinating. Socks, amazing. Underwear, such nice material! You’d deny it if you were asked, but you packed your nicest panties. Not that you had much in the way of lingerie, but like everyone you had the ones you wore on your period, the ones you wore any random day, and then you had the nice ones. The ones you wore when you wanted to feel sexier, the ones you wore when you were trying to get lucky or show off a little.

He could have sworn he’d caught you looking at him, but brushed it off as wishful thinking. Taking your preoccupation as a moment for himself to gaze at you and appreciate the curve of your ass when you bent at the hips to carelessly shove your bag under the bed. Strong thighs and shapely legs, the kind he’d like more if they were draped over his shoulders.

Dropping into the bed with a sigh you rolled to your back allowing yourself to sink into the bed that was almost too soft, too fluffy, too comfortable. It was a complete change from the norm, where you weren’t sure if the sheets were actually washed, and the bed was so hard the floor was a more comfortable option. But you were not one to complain about the tiny offerings of luxury your life occasionally offered. Wiggling your hips you settled in with a pleasured groan and let your eyes fall shut, only for a moment, to appreciate the most comfortable bed you’d ever get the chance to sleep in.

Sam watched you enjoy yourself with a grin. When the soft moan escaped your throat he found himself trying not to think about the sounds you make as your fingers gripped the blankets or nails raked red welts down his back. Or your teeth sinking into a pillow to stifle the pornographic cries that would fall from your lips. The way your hips would move and roll in tandem with his until all you could do was hold on as he fucked you into that bed and fell apart beneath him. He would make you forget how to speak, the only thing you’d be able to scream would be his name and a flurry of barely intelligible curse words in desperation. “Sam..! Uuuhhn-fuck, Sam!”

“Sam!” You shouted as you smacked him in the arm jerking his attention back to Earth as he turned to look at you, upright on your knees still in the bed. Surprise and embarrassment written on his face, cheeks flushed pink. “Did you hear a word I said?”

“Hmm? What? Uh-yeah.. Of course.” He scoffed and stumbled through his words as he sank into the edge of the bed beside you, crumpling the large plaid shirt in his hands into a ball in his lap to hide his frustration. Cocking your brow in amused confusion at his uncharacteristic fluster you handed him a nicely laminated printed card.

“What were you thinking about?” You quizzed. There was no price too high that you would pay to sneak a peek into his head. It wasn’t terribly often that you’d catch Sam spacing out, he was always pointed and focused. Even if you couldn’t tell exactly what was rolling around in his mind you could guess, and 90% of the time it had something to do with whatever crisis was being dealt with at the time. On occasion though you’d see him like he just was, obviously off in la-la-land somewhere, and those were the times you wanted desperately to know what he was thinking.

“Nothing.” He defended a little too quickly as he snatched the card from your hand ready to change the subject to literally anything else. There was no force on this Earth that would get him to admit the perverse things he thought about you- let alone to your face. The idea of how your expression would change to uncomfortable disgust at the notion made him cringe. He was looking at the card but couldn’t tell you what a single word said. “What did you say?”

“I knew you weren’t paying attention!” You affirmed your accusation poking your index finger into his rib. Tapping the card in his hand you continued. “Firstly, I don’t know how to tell you this, because I don’t want to break your heart or anything but- no wi-fi. Secondly, look at this itinerary! You don’t actually expect me to do this tonight do you?”

No wi-fi would be a problem, that meant limited research. It was to be expected though, the place was set so remotely he didn’t think there would be much signal of any kind, so he didn’t show up naked entirely. He brought his Dad’s journal, and a few other books, and he’d had quite the collection scanned and loaded on his computer. Hopefully whatever it was they ran into would be somewhere in the materials he brought. If not, you’d be taking a trip to the city for internet access. Skimming over the card to follow what you meant he let out a snicker.

“This is what you’re worried about?” Sam asked flatly as he held the card up. You gave an exaggerated shrug, not sure what was so unclear about what you were saying. “A cooking class? Really Y/n?”

“What, Sam? I don’t cook! I can burn water.” You stated matter-of-factly. It wasn’t true necessarily, you’d never burnt water, but you’d also never successfully cooked anything in the way it was actually supposed to be cooked. It wasn’t like it was your fault! Everything you ate was microwavable. Besides the fact that you hadn’t grown up around a functioning kitchen. Frankly cooking was the least of your worries. You were basically a human garbage disposal anyway. As long as it was cooked all the way through, and at least mildly edible you were good. Carbs were carbs. Calories were calories. No one was expecting you to be a gourmet chef when you were regularly covered in monster viscera.

Sam gave a soft laugh shaking his head and turning to look at you as he nudged you with his shoulder giving you a sweet smile. Those dimples. God, you could have drowned in them.

“Y/n, I have the utmost faith in you. You can attend this stupid cooking class and you’ll kick it in the ass.”

“You’re sweet. But you’ve never tasted my cooking.”

“Hey, no matter how terrible it turns out, I promise I will lie and say it is delicious.” Sam reassured you with a grin. You smiled back in mock offense and shoved his shoulder as you plucked the card from his hands, and stood.

“Wow, Sam. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Anytime.” He snarked watching you start to pace, your eyes glued to the text.

“I mean look at this crap- is this really what normal couples do for fun?” You paused dropping your hands to your sides. He only answered with a shrug, neither of you exactly had much to compare with. You turned your attention back to the card and continued. “Wine tasting.”

“What’s wrong with Wine tasting?”

“Who drinks wine? Rich people, Depressed Mom’s and Lonely Single Women- that’s who.”

“I like wine.” He defended. Your face twisted in skepticism.

“I have never seen you with a glass of wine before. Whiskey, Bourbon and Scotch- sure. But Wine? C’mon Sam.” You didn’t wait for him to answer as you continued to the next item. “Dancing on Thursday. Do you dance, Sam? Because I don’t dance.”

“Now- that’s not entirely true.” He interjected with a suggestive grin. He’d seen you dance before, a few times. Usually after a few shots, and with some lucky local you’d pick up for the night. Sober you may not dance, but drunk you certainly knew how to move those hips. Heat crept into your cheeks and you moved on, not even wanting to dignify his comment with a response.

“Friday night Movie night. They have a movie night.”

“Hey, I’m not exactly excited either, but it can’t be all that bad.” Sam offered. Half trying to convince himself. From the flat side-eye he earned it was apparent there was no thrill to be had on your part.

“I mean you’d think there’d be stuff on here like hiking, or yoga, or a couples spa.” You huffed and dropped the card on the table beside the bed. “Can we just… go wander around and scope the place out instead?” You asked, you could think of a thousand things you’d rather be doing than attending some stupid cooking class. Just about anything sounded like a less painful option. You’d rather be bound and gagged by something trying to eat you than have to figure out what the fuck a Souffle is.

“I’m sure we’ll be back from checking out the property in plenty of time. If there’s anyone else staying here they’ll probably be there, it’ll be a good chance to talk to some of the others here. See if they’ve heard anything.” Sam reasoned, always logical, and usually right to your displeasure. With a groan you let your chin tilt back and your shoulders slump, a little light bulb going off in your head. Rolling your head up to a tilt you gave him a flirtatious smile. He opened his mouth to speak and you placed your index finger over his lips. They were soft, and warm, and you wondered if he tasted as sweet as his cotton-candy pink mouth looked.

The glimmer in your eyes shifted changing in an instant from your usual sweet and sour demeanor to looking at him through curling lashes sultry and tempting. You hand fell from his lips to curl a long chestnut brown strand of his hair around your finger.

“What if, instead, we skipped it.” Your tone painting a vivid picture. With your cocked brow and devious smile there was no mistaking what you were suggesting. “Said we just couldn’t make it down, because we were... Busy.”

You were supposed to be newlyweds after all, and what was more convincing of a happy, healthy, lovey-dovey relationship than blowing off some bullshit class because you were too busy fucking all night?

Sam swallowed the tension in his throat, if that were an actual option on the table there would have been no need to convince him. Nevertheless he was more than willing to go along with your game, if that’s where you were taking it, two could play. His large hands settled on your hips, warm and heavy, creating gooseflesh through the thin cotton layer of t-shirt. You wanted his hands on you forever. Wanted to burn his fingerprints into your skin like a tattoo. He pulled you in, between his thighs and close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him, his cologne filling your senses. The corner of his lips curling into a smile as he peered at you with those kaleidoscope eyes making you weak in the knees.

“You make a very compelling argument.” His voice smooth like scotch and just as intoxicating. Taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger made your heart skip a beat, or just dead stop. You couldn’t tell, your eyes falling to his lips, nervous anticipation shooting like an electric current through your veins. The slow drag of his thumb over your lower lip made heat pool low in your belly and your breath catch in your throat. He edged closer to you close enough to feel the heat of his breath caress your face. “But we’re still going.”

Then he smiled at you, a shit-eating grin and stood up to finish doing whatever the hell he was doing. His hands dropped away from you leaving you standing there breathless and trying to recollect your wits. Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head in frustration. Folding your arms over your chest you plopped on the bed with a pout, and crossed your legs tightly trying to ease the pressure that had built.

“That was a nice moment Sam. That was a nice moment, and you ruined it. I hope you’re proud of yourself.” You snarked, and by the grin still plastered on his face- he was.

Standing at the top of the long gravel drive you held a map open in front of you, Sam right behind you and able to see clear over your head without issue. Little red dots stippled the map and at the very center of them sat the Inn. Reaching a long arm around you he pointed at one of the markers.

“Alright, so that’s where the last vic was found.”

“Correction- that’s where parts of the last vic were found.” You interjected, his lips pressed into an unamused line as he looked around the property, extending an arm to the left of the driveway and into the thick of the woods.

“Right, parts. Whatever, that’s about a mile that way…”

“Every bit of remains they’ve found have been at least a mile from here. They’re not exactly grouped in one area either. Look at this, they’ve been found just about everywhere. This is a really wide net we’re trying to cast here Sam.” You expressed at the spattering of red dots all over the place. Some further out, some closer in, and everywhere.

“Right, so we go to the freshest spot and hope we get lucky.”

“Great plan and all, except the remains at that location were two months old when they were found. I sincerely doubt that whatever’s out there is going to be there still. Especially with Police in and out of there for the last couple weeks.” You said. Sam paused hazel eyes scanning the treeline as he absorbed the information you were giving him with a nod.

“Guess we’re just gonna have to pick a direction.”

“Okay.” You agreed, folding up the map and stuffing it into the pocket on the inside of your coat, cinching the button at your waist. “Which way you wanna gamble on?”

“Hold on- let me see that map again.” He asked, absentmindedly. You sucked your teeth digging back into your coat to retrieve it. “Isn’t there a lake around here?”

“Yeah, not just one though, there’s several in the surrounding three miles.” You answered unfolding the paper again, and handing it to him to study.

Looking down the winding gravel road and into the mist that seemed to breathe between a trees a chill slid up your spine. You always got antsy before hunts. Couldn’t help it. Didn’t matter what you faced or how many times, it always gave you the jitters. Even after all these years you still got scared. You would never admit it of course, and you’d mastered the poker face to keep it under wraps. But there was honestly no way for you to truly prepare yourself for whatever was out there, not when a single slip up could mean the end. Each new hunt, even with a foe you were familiar with was still jarring and nerve-wracking. It would always be until you either died or didn’t hunt anymore.

“Going for a hike?” The woman’s voice from behind you made you jump nearly out of your skin with a gasp. Hand on your chest you turned around wide eyed to see Esmeralda standing there with perfect black curls surrounding her perfectly cut face, cascading down her perfectly petite shoulders. She wasn’t asking you of course, her eyes fixed on Sam who folded up the map and tucked it in his back pocket as he turned his head to face her.

“Uh, yeah. Thinking about it.” He answered, she gave him a smile, a perfect smile, with straight white teeth and full pouty lips. She was so pretty you kind of hated her for it. Like, damn lady, we get it, you won the genetic jackpot, you don’t have to rub it in by existing and breathing air.

“Well there are a few trails if you follow the drive down to the main road. Though some of them can be a little hard to navigate if you don’t know where you’re going.” Esmeralda explained. God, even her voice was perfect and sexy. You could have groaned, or rolled your eyes- you didn’t because you didn’t make a habit of being rude, not that it would have mattered anyway. She wasn’t paying attention to you in the slightest, you could have been a sentient tree and it wouldn’t have made a lick of difference. No, instead she was focused completely on Sam, placing a delicate little hand over his bicep as she pointed around the property. Because groping him was obviously necessary for giving directions. Her fingers were so long and elegant and slender you imagined they’d snap like toothpicks with the proper amount of pressure. “If you’re looking to sight-see, the paths to the North West behind the Inn take you further up the Mountain with plenty of breathtaking views.”

“Actually we’re thinking about checking out some of the lakes.” Sam replied. She smiled at him as if it was the most novel idea she’d ever heard while giving his arm as squeeze.

We get it! He’s jacked. Back off lady. You thought, gnawing on the inside of your lip, just waiting for the whole conversation to be over already. Would it be appropriate to bust up the party a little? You were, after all, supposed to be his wife for all she knew. But you didn’t want to come off as possessive, or jealous. Even though you were and it was absolutely killing you! You resolved to just crossing an arm over your chest and chewing on your thumbnail as if it were going to help you keep your composure in some way.

“To the West is Spider Lake, it’s further into the woods and up the mountain, Spider Creek feeds into it, it’s lovely up there. And to the South East about a mile and a half is Lake Kulla Kulla. It’s a wonderful spot for fishing I hear- if that’s something you enjoy..”

“Thanks, Esmeralda.” Sam replied.

“You’re most welcome Mr. Wesson. Do be careful not to stray too far from the paths, people get lost in these woods easily.” She cautioned. Her voice oozed over ‘Mr. Wesson’ as if she could have sex with the words. Her hand was still glued to his arm like a fucking magnet.“Oh and you will be back in time for tonight's activity won’t you? I’d hate for you to miss out on all of the fun.”

“Yeah, yeah, we plan on being there.” Sam assured with a smile as he stepped back detaching from her grasp and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Your arms fell around his waist instantly as you leaned into him.

“We are just so excited.” You lied enthusiastically as you brought your right hand to his chest resting over his heart, making sure the little rock on your finger was near impossible to miss. Her icy green eyes cut to you with a look of pure distaste. You recoiled stunned and more than a little put off- if looks could kill. It was brief, nothing more than a flicker before she gave another radiant smile, but you caught it.

“Wonderful, we’ll see you when you return. Enjoy your hike.” Esmeralda said before heading back to the Inn. Sam turned his attention back to the map but you watched her sashay until she disappeared inside.

“The fuck was her problem?” You scoffed Sam turned his eyes to you curiously with a furrowed brow.

“What?”

“You didn’t see that?” You asked jutting your thumb behind you.

“See what?”

“You didn’t see the look she gave me?”

“No?”

“Well she looked at me like I spat on her, or pushed her Grandma down the stairs for funsies…” Or like she was pissed that the hulking Adonis in front of her was spoken for. Not that it seemed to matter to her much. Sam chuckled in response, studying your body language as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, chewing on your fingernail in nervous frustration, eyes like daggers on the front door of the Inn. If he didn’t know any better he might have mistaken that look on your face for jealousy. But you were always a little on edge before a hunt- you’d never admit it, but he knew.

You were pretty good at covering, but he’d known you too long not to pick up on the buzzing nervous energy coming off of you in waves. It never ceased to amuse him though. You were fearless, if there was ever hesitation about going into a situation you wouldn’t wait for a game of rock-paper-scissors, you’d just go in. He figured you did it because you either liked embarrassing them a little that you’d go in before either of them, or out of the need to show yourself that you weren’t afraid. Either way your courage in the face of your own palpable anxiety was endearing, and something he admired about you.

“What do you think- start with Spider Lake?” He asked. You answered with an agreeable shrug.

“Monster’s gotta have a watering hole right?”

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#Sam Winchester #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester fic #sam fic #sam fanfic #sam fanfiction #monster house #jena writes

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iamcrimelord · 5 years

Text

Bloodborne: Ardenti Sanguine Chapter 2

It was two days till the night of the hunt and Daigo decided to go down the streets and survey the city. The first thing he noticed was that they simply LOVED statues. Most of them of shrouded figures that seemed to be weeping and wailing. He shook his head as he laughed. The city was certainly full of life. Brewers with barrels upon barrels of blood wine, medicinal wine, and so forth lined the streets. People were drinking it and at one point, he could have sworn that a mother was feeding her child with milk mixed with blood in the bottle. On another street corner a group of mates were drinking blood booze out of tankards, talking, cheering, and carrying on as though there was not a care in the world. Across the street on the opposite, a group of richly dressed men were seated around a table at a fancy tavern smoking cigarettes and sipping what he could only assume was blood wine from more elegant looking glasses. Everywhere in this city he could see the old and the young, the rich and the poor, the men and the women all drinking blood like it was water. There was one nagging question though in the back of his mind he could not shake however since he had read about blood ministration the night before. Where was all this blood coming from? His thoughts were disrupted however when he came close to a tavern called, “The Black Rose.” The wooden sign that held the name was clearly old though well maintained, and the windows were also tinted by time. His tongue felt a little dry so he decided to go in and see what was available.

When Daigo entered the tavern he could see a very diverse group of drinkers indeed. There were your yoeman workers and farmers, volunteer hunters, and official hunters of the workshop. There were even a pair of choir members on the upper balcony that was on the inside of the tavern. All in all it looked like a good place to kick up ones heels and relax. He saw the bar and walked over to it, took a seat and looked at the drinks available. There was Blood Whisky, Blood Bourbon, Blood Wine, Blood Mead, Blood Absinthe?! That last one was truly surprising, what sort of sights and sounds did one see with blood laced absinthe? The Bar Maid came up to him and winked. “So Brother, what shall it be?”

She was a very pretty woman. Buxom, long auburn hair, freckles, and mocha skin. Daigo grinned and leaned back a bit. “How about the blood wine? I’m feeling like treating myself tonight.” She nodded and left with her smile still on.

Daigo leaned back and inspected his fingernails when suddenly two people sat side by side of him. “So...you a brother of the church mm?” one of them said. Daigo looked and saw a broad shouldered man with no hair or eyebrows but a thick goat beard on his chin. He was dressed in scruffy leather and had a folding saw on his hip and a blunderbust on his back.

“Come to rub elbows with us common folk eh?” Said the other man. He was tall, pretty much wearing a poncho made of some rough tarp that covered most of his body, save for his ragged pants and mud stained shoes.

Daigo rapped his finger nails on the counter top and grinned. “Mm.....in a manner of speaking. I’m new in town.”

The goat bearded hunter chuckled, his laugh showing he was missing more than a few teeth. “Well, well, welllllll......fresh meat from the church? how exciting....”

Daigo kept up his friendly smile. “Indeed.” His right arm was hidden beneath the shoulder cape of his outfit...but he flexed it into a fist. He knew what was about to happen.

The Tall hunter shifted his arm and rested his own hand on his weapon. “Yeah...we love it when you knobs from Cathedral Ward come down here and strut around like a peacock. Gracing us with a vision of your holier than thou arses.”

Daigo saw his drink appear...the bar maid looking far more nervous than before. She quickly put space between herself and the situation that was developing. Daigo took the glass and downed it in one go....it was quite smooth and the blood gave it a surprisingly nice aftertaste. “Well if you want to see my ass, I suggest asking your sister first for permission, she might get jealous otherwise.”

The Tall hunter shrieked in anger and pulled out his weapon, a surprisingly elegant butterfly sword. He kept the blade folded in but tried to use the shaft as a blunt club. Daigo quickly leaned back and fell out of his chair as the tall hunter smacked the goat faced hunter right in the jaw, sending a few more of his teeth flying out of his mouth. Daigo fell on his back but then rolled back to get into a better stance. The other patrons got up quickly, and a circle formed around the three men as the other patrons began to cheer on the fight. The Bar Maid looking furious left to get help. The Goat faced hunter rubbed his jaw and then cracked his neck. “WATCH WHERE YOU’RE SWINGING!” he shouted.

The Tall Hunter looked at Daigo and spat. “I was swinging for the nancy here!!!” he and the goat faced hunter got off their stools and took fighting stances. Daigo simply chuckled and with his right arm he brushed back the shoulder capes and had them folded behind him. His Wooden Right arm revealed for the masses. The two hunters looked at it in shock and a small degree of fear. “The Hell is that?” the goat faced hunter asked.

Daigo cracked his knuckles. “This...was a gift from a very old friend. But as far as you two are concerned, this is the instrument of your incoming ass beating.” The two hunters looked at each other, the goat faced man drew his saw and the two rushed Daigo. He flexed the hand on his right arm and the thorns that made up his fingernails on that arm extended into claws, which he then swiped across the face of the goat faced hunter on the right. With his left hand he then grabbed the tall hunters wrist that had been swinging for his head and twisted it hard, causing the tall hunter to drop his weapon. He then let go and with expert speed did a sweeping leg kick that knocked both men on their backs. Daigo quickly grabbed the butterfuly sword and in an elegant display of form and skill whipped the blade around himself quickly before pointing the now exposed blade right into the goat faced hunters face while Daigo had drawn his pistol and pointed it at the tall hunters face. The two men held up their hands in surrender and Daigo was just about to pull the trigger when he heard a whistle being blown.

Daigo turned his head to the sudden noise and saw a team of constables in the door way. Led by a man with long blonde hair and holding a simply MASSIVE buzz saw blade on his back, and what appeared to be a mace in his hands. “Now whats all this then?!” he shouted. The Bar Maid approached his side.

“These two men harrased my customer and intended to do him harm!! ....But it seems he was able to dispatch them himself...” She said with a good bit of surprise.

Daigo nodded. “I just wanted a drink Constable. Nothing more.”

The man nodded and then looked at the crowed of people who were watching. “Right then! Now listen very closely to me...We are all hunters of the city of Yharnum. From the farmer to Vicar Laurence Himself! All of us, are in this together. Now I’ve heard repeated reports of this in the past of church brothers being accosted by ruffians in this part of the city. And I tell you now, IT WILL...NOT...DO! If I hear any more reports of drunken brawls, street muggings, or so forth, I will lock down this entire section of the city and establish STRICT rules and a curfew for the area. AM I UNDERSTOOD?” the other patrons nodded quickly. Many averting their eyes. The choir members however watched from above...with heavy invested interest in their fellow church member. The constable nodded and then looked to Daigo. “Brother, is there anyway we can make this up to you?”

Daigo looked at the constable for a moment, then down at the tall hunter. “This is a nice sword. I’m keeping it.” He then turned and walked past the constables and out into the street. He left the tavern thinking it should be a day or two before he returned. But in the meanwhile, he had a nice new weapon to add to his armory. He twirled the sword around in expert fashion as he walked down the street, but was stopped by a call from behind. “Excuse us brother, might we have a word?”

Daigo turned to see who was calling him and saw two choir members approaching him. Walking Canes in hand. He performed one final flourish and then stuck the weapon into the back of his belt. “How can I help you...fellow brothers?” he asked with a friendly smile.

The Choir Members smiled, but that was all he could see of their faces, those smiling mouths. Both looked exactly the same to each other. The one on the left spoke. “I must say it was very impressive seeing you handle those two brutes. They are hunters of no small reputation. Tell me...where did you train?”

“Oh I simply learned on my travels. There is no greater mentor than experience.” Daigo said.

“I see.” The Choir member said. “Well I say, if we had a few more brothers like you in the church we’d not need to rely on such....crude instruments.” He said with a smile.

“Well that’s the thing about crude instruments.” Daigo replied. “They’re low maintenance and don’t require constant cleaning...unlike other more...delicate tools.” He said with biting friendliness.

The choir members eyes may have been hidden, but the contempt in his voice could be heard. “Yes well.....we each have a roll to play dont we?”

The other choir member spoke up. “Forgive my friend here, he tends to be much more direct in his opinions than other choir members.”

“Well I’ll take that over pretenses any day.” Daigo said.

“Of course” the second choir member said. “Why lie when honesty is far too much fun?”

“Quite.” Daigo said.

“Well...I hope todays events have not soured your view of either the city or its citizens.” The second choir member said.

Daigo focused a bit more on the second choir member, and noticed that their lips were rose bud shaped and had a bit of gloss on them. “Well milady, it takes more than a tavern fight to spoil my view of things.”

The Lady Choir member chuckled. “well good. I would hate to see someone with so much potential leave us so suddenly.”

Daigo grinned and stroked his beard. “Well.....perhaps a guided tour of the city would help me find a new found appreciation for its ........wonders.” he said with a playful grin.

The Lady Choir member laughed softly and held out a hand. “Well..anything to aid a brother of the church.” Daigo smoothly took her arm and the two walked side by side down the street. The firm scowl of the other choir member they left behind unnoticed by the pair.

Later that night the two were having dinner in Cathedral Ward enjoying a balcony seat with a view of the whole city, the gently rising moon, and the beautiful lake that rested next to the city. They had walked the length and breadth of the city taking in the sights and sounds of all that Yharnum had to offer. And now they were ending the day with each others surprisingly delightful company. “So Tell me Sister,” Daigo said. “What are nights of the hunt like?”

She sipped some blood wine and sighed gently. “I dont know. Choir Members are not allowed to participate.”

“Why is that?” He asked.

“Because choir members are researchers looking into how to elevate the mortal coil of man. A brute is easy enough to replace, there is not a lot of training involved. But a researcher who dies takes all of their knowledge and discoveries with them.” Her voice seemed to betray the bitter sweet sentiments she had about that.

“Sounds like your a bit disappointed by that.” He said.

“Well, only as much as a child might be disappointed that they cannot actually slay a dragon. My strengths are in academia not martial prowess as you or the hunters have.”

Daigo sipped some wine and thought about that. :But you know....the thing about a body of flesh is...things that are weak can be made stronger....and minds that are ignorant can be filled with knowledge.”

An amused smile kissed her lips gently now. “Are you proposing we exchange lessons?”

Daigo nodded. “Indeed....I lack knowledge of the city, and you wish to fight in the hunt do you not?”

The mask may have hid her face but he could see she was clearly thinking about it. “All right...then let us make an accord. I will instruct you and you will train me.”

Daigo smiled and nodded to that, toasting her with his wine. The two clinked glasses together. “Though we simply cannot call each other brother and sister.”

“Agreed” she said. “I am Morganna Du Loch.” She said, taking off her head piece to reveal a strikingly beautiful woman with blond hair, saphire blue eyes, and ivory skin.

“And I am Daigo Gwyn Belfir.” He said.

“Pleased to meet you Daigo.” She said.

“The Pleasure, Morganna...is mine.” He said with a grin once more.

Meanwhile in church headquarters, Laurence was pouring over his texts and manuscripts from Byergenwerth. Sketches of eyes, tentacles, and other mis matched limbs of various sorts were detailed in his books. Behind him as he researched, was a mural showing the moon, and in front of it...a tall whispy figure of bone and tentacles could be seen, descending on a field of white flowers. “There must be a way to contact him.” He said.

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Hey guys, just wanted to thank you so much for reading todays chapter. I just want to give a quick shout out to my friend @i-am-wyrmdrake who has been an absolute champion for me this year. Things were pretty rough at the start of 2019 but now that I’m back on my feet I just want them to know that I really appreciate all that they have done for me. Keep rocking on amigo mio!

#Bloodborne #FromSoftware #Pyromancer #Daigo Belfir #Short Story #Writing #Fan Fiction #The Healing Church #Dark Souls #Good Hunter #Dark Fantasy #fantasy #Daigo #Vampire #Cainhurst #The Choir

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lady-olive-oil · 5 years

Text

Chapter 2

Prelude || Characters || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2

{Note: Hello everyone! I am here to bring you chapter 2 of Brown Sugah Baby. Once again like; give feedback and reblog to your heart content. Thank you all for the positive feedback, it is greatly appreciated. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!}

Squad: @maddiestundentwritergaines

Word Count: 2,072

Warnings: None...yet

As the first 2 months of their junior year flew by; Nefe and Nattie, had to prepare themselves for a frightening event: Midterms. Midterms were every college kids worst nightmare. Especially before homecoming, yet something made them bearable: Parents Day. Parents Day was a huge event at Southern University, for the students. You can spend the whole day with your parents and show em around campus, or just chill with them for a few hours. Which meant the girls would travel back home to Miami, Florida, along with M’Baku.

“Hey Nattie! You got the dessert for the cookout right? Moms wants pecan and apple.” Walking around the store, Nefe had to make sure she got everything on the list her mom gave her.

“Yep. Both pies. Do we need ice cream too?” Nattie asked while going down the dessert aisle.” She was more than just Nefe’s best friend. She was her sister.

Nattie was officially adopted into Nefe’s family when her parents died, when she was 12. They’ve been best friends ever since. A bond that couldn’t be broken, that was strong than super glue. Growing up in Miami, Hialeah go be exact, wasn’t easy by any means. Natasha’s parents were murdered in a hit and run, while she was at school. The news put her in shock and she didn’t know what to do. So by being so close to Nefe’s family, they took her in with open arms. So parents days meant everything and more to Nattie than ever.

Once the kids were of age, Julian and Regina decided to move the family to Tallahassee for a better life and job opportunities. Nattie’s parents had set aside a growing college fund for her, so Nefe’s parents matched it. There was no way, Regina was going to let her best friends’ only child not live a better life.

“I think dad got it. We just need the ribs; hot dogs and buns. Both burgers and hot dog buns.”

Grabbing what they needed, heading towards the checkout lane, they were stopped when Melanie spotted them.

“Well lookie, lookie. It’s the trash community.” The triumphant smirk on her face shone, with the help of her two side hoes by her sides; Jordana and Stacy. Of all places to go run into them at a time like this. Yeah they grew up together and went to SU. Which meant they too went home.

“I see there’s a mirror there, Melanie. You seein your reflection while talkin out the side of your mouth?” Nattie couldn’t help but chuckle at her best friends comeback.

“Very funny. Listen, when you see M’Baku tell him to come by my dorm tonight. Comprende?”

“Or is that too much for you to understand?” Jordana enunciated each word, trying to be funny.

Nattie and Nefe looked at each other and let out a gut wrenching laugh.

“Comprende? Oh you think you funny huh? I can speak about, 4 different languages, and bitch is one of em. Don’t try me.” Nefe sucked her teeth in annoyance.

Eyeing them all up and down, Nattie scoffed and spoke up.

“Why do you even torture yourself, Melanie? No guy really sees anything with you. Oh yeah, and M’Baku wants nothing to do with you either.” Both of them moved past her, to finish their shopping.

“Then why can’t he stay away? He still loves all of this,” Gesturing towards herself before walking away, Melanie waved goodbye. “and not a peanut shaped hoe like you.”

“Then why are his parents at our house for a Parents Day barbecue? Know your place.” Nefe waved back in a mocking tone, watching her storm off.

“Of all the Walmart’s in town, you’d think she’d have the common sense.” Nattie, scoffed heading to the car.

“Common sense isn’t common for her.” Even Nefe knew herself, that she couldn’t get M’Baku to leave Melanie alone. Sure enough it bothered her more than before.

The rest of the day was filled with laughs, love, music and food. Bonding with family was all Nefe and Nattie needed. M’Baku enjoyed the stories he heard of Nefe when she was little. His parents were there as well to embark on the festivities. The stories they shared of him when he was little, were even cuter. Nattie shared some memories of her own, mainly what it was like to have Nefe as a sister growing up.

Omari and Zola, M’Baku’s parents, are work colleagues of Julian in the medical field. They handle business over in their home country of Wakanda, but have a few businesses in the states. They formed a bond with Julian and Regina when, Omari first came to work for the local hospital. The bond stuck for the last few years.

“Regina, darling whatever you put in this gumbo it is good. Girl, you have to give me the recipe.” Zola was enamored by the dish.

“I shall. If you give me the recipe to this chicken dish from Wakanda. I need to go visit some time.” The chuckle that left the women’s lips, put a smile on both their husbands faces.

“All the food is amazing. Thank you for inviting us over, Mrs. Johnson.” M’Baku said politely, glancing over at Nefe a bit before diving into the peach cobbler that she made.

“Oh dear, you can call me Regina. We’re all family here.”

The atmosphere was warm and inviting. Just what was needed to ease the stress levels.

“Alright. Mrs. Regina.” A smile etched on his face remained there till he turned to his best friend.

“Nefe, this cobbler is bomb.” M’Baku muses in happiness and smiles at her, causing her to feel her face heat up.

Daniel, Nefe and Nattie’s older brother, glanced over at M’Baku like the over protective brother he is. Knowing damn well, he’s twice his size but won’t back down from protecting his siblings.

What was he looking at exactly? The sun dress Nefe wore clung to her like a second skin. The elegant golden yellow two piece dress, made her milk chocolate skin glow. She looked ravishing, he couldn’t look away. He did however, think about how she’d look in Jabari furs that would accentuate her curves.

“Thanks, it’s my grandmama's recipe. All the women in the family have it.”

Nattie knew exactly what was going on between them. She saw Daniel get defensive, which prompted her to kick his knee under the table.

“Ow!” He mumbled while rubbing his knee and glared at her, earning a smirk from the braided goddess.

“Well she passed it down to the right person.” Sending a subtle wink her direction, M’Baku joined her in the kitchen to help clean up. She couldn’t help but chuckle at his advances.

“Listen, imma need these two to stop flirting around us.”

“Daniel. Come on now, they’re best friends. That are blinded by said friendship, to see that they need each other more than ever.”

Diana spoke up and caused everyone at the table, to laugh. She wasn’t lying though. The chemistry was insane between the two. Upon coming back from the kitchen, Nefe eyes everyone suspiciously.

“What’s going on? Talking about us behind our back?”

“Maybe. What’s it to ya?”

Stephanie stuck her tongue out and felt Nefe ruffle her hair.

“You two flirting aimlessly. It’s cute really, because M’Baku hasn’t brought a woman home in years.” Omari, his father, spoke highly of his only son often when he and Julian get together.

“We weren’t flirting Steph. We were just talking is all.”

Nefe shrugged then looked at M’Baku, who nodded in agreement.

“Besides. She has Sean and I am kinda with Melanie.”

The tone is his voice when he said Sean’s name, struck something in both Nattie and Nefe. Yet the rest of the family just laughed. He went on with a smile and just didn’t say anything.

The rest of the night continued on without a hitch. But that little moment stayed in the back of Nefe’s head.

“I hope he’s ok. He seemed on edge a bit.” She pondered outloud as she applied her nightly face mask. Alongside her was Nattie.

“Me too. I just wish he’d talk to us more on his relationship with Melanie. He knows he’s too good for her.”

“That’s not what i'm talking about Nat. I’m referring to how he said Sean’s name. You saw his face didn't you? It looked like he wanted to kill him.”

“Uh, well I’m sure it’s nothing.” Nattie a voice went up a few octaves. Nefe knew exactly what that meant.

“Natasha Reign James, if you don’t tell me right now-“

“Ok! Ok! He overheard Sean at football practice, talking about getting with you during the summer. So he talked to me about it, I’m sorry!”

Nefe’s blood ran cold, with the news she recieved. Her breathing was cut short a tad, but she regained herself.

“Why hasn’t he killed him yet?” She wanted to know why.

“He’s waiting for you to talk to him about it. Not my place. You have to tell him Nefe, now that you know how he feels about him.”

She didn’t want to lose her best friend over some dude that he didn’t like. She had to tell him, but then again she had a thought.

“If he won’t tell me why he’s still fucking around with Melanie, then I’m not telling him why I’m messing with Sean.”

“You two are childish. Childish grown ass adults. I knew I should’ve went with T’Challa to see his mother and Shuri.” Nattie grabbed her stuff and headed to bed along with Nefe, to ease her pain. They did have to leave in the morning anyway to go go back to campus.

Later that night, M’Baku headed home with his parents and the drive to their townhouse was anything but ordinary.

”M’Baku, my darling son. You know how we feel about that Melanie girl.” Zola his mother, ever the elegant woman, spoke gently as they sights of the city sped past them.

“She’s not good enough for you and it shows in her actions. You and Nefertiti should have a go at it. She’s poised; elegant, carries herself well. All the great qualities of a future Jabari Queen.”

His father never spoke about any of the girls he brought home like he did about Nefe. It didn’t shock him that he mentioned Nefe. They always talked about her, they loved her dearly. Even her family as well.

“I know baba. I know. It’s just I’m having fun at my age and I’d rather not think about my responsibilities as future king of the Jabari right now. I’m trying to get away from Melanie to focus on myself, but the day I heard about Sean enraged me.” If anything, Nefe felt more than a friend to him. Yet he never told her that. Probably won’t now that Sean is in the picture.

He wasn’t called Great Gorilla for nothing amounts the his frat brothers. His chest heaved up and down in anger; his nostrils flared with aggravation and a flight growl burrowed within his throat. That all stopped once his mother spoke once more.

“Is he competition to you, my child?” The tone in Zola’s voice meant that she was in queen mode.

Upon heading inside the home, M’Baku decided to stay the night and think about what his next plan was.

“To be honest, no. He competition in the slightest.” The arrogant look on his face made his parents proud. They raised a warrior to take on his challenges.

“Then you know what you just do, my son. You haven’t told her yet right?”

“No baba, I have not. I think I’ll wait to the right moment to do so.”

“Good. This American needs to be taught about the element of surprise then.” Omari nodded and headed to bed with his wife to let their son think his plans over.

“And a surprise it shall be.” M’Baku mumbled to himself as he rested in the guest room, sighing deeply into his thoughts as he drifted to sleep.

He had a strategy to make. He is the prince of Jabari Land after all, and needed a queen upon his coronation within 2 years. Maybe his parents were right, it was time he needed to think about his future and what was best fit his coming country. He just has to get rid of some dead weight to do so.

#mbaku x oc #wives of mbaku #mbaku x nefertiti adisa #mbaku au fic #winston duke #Amara La Negra #brown sugah baby #tchalla x oc #erik x nakia #black panther #black panther fanfiction #okoye x daniel #wives of tchalla #tchalla x reader #wives of erik killmonger #nattie x tchalla #mbaku #m’baku #m’baku x nefertiti

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fantasticworldoffanfics · 6 years

Text

PETER/STILES

——— (part 3) ——–

Fandom: TeenWolf

Even longer list of fanfics :)….

top favourites, more top favourites, part 1, part 2

The Devil You Know

Author: Triangulum

Summary: Hell is busy and Peter is understaffed. There are too many evil people being sent down below and there are only so many demons Peter has to torture them with. He needs to reorganize. They don't utilize group torture nearly as much as they should. Stiles probably has some ideas on that.OrPeter is King of Hell, Stiles is his second in command, and Talia summons them for a favor.

Can I Keep Him?

Author: Therapeutic_Steter

Summary: Let's try... Red Panda stiles? looove red panda stiles!

I’m Not Your Nephew

Author: Therapeutic_Steter

Summary: "Derek! Guess what!" "What, Stiles?" "I can call, you nephew now!!" "What. The hell. Are you talking about." "Didn't you listen? Peter and I are together!"

Words Upon Skin

Author: Therapeutic_Steter

Summary: Soulmate words were treasured. People spent their whole lives waiting for their treasured phrase, that magic moment.Stiles had spent his whole life plagued by his words. He wondered just what he could do, to disappoint his soulmate so completely in their first meeting. He had approximately ninety nine self-confidence issues and they were all because of those damned words, printed in elegant script across his heart.‘Words cannot describe how pathetic you look.’

Let Me Hold You, Forever

Author: lavenderlotion

Summary: It was too much. To loud and too quiet and too, too much. He had to get out, to get away and just be somewhere different. He couldn’t - he couldn’t keep watching her like that, watching her lay there as she did.He needed a break.And he found it, with Peter Hale. Peter who was scarred skin and blank eyes. Peter who he sat with for hours a day, reading and ranting and just being with. Peter, who over four years he fell in love with.

A Spoonful Of Sugar

Author: Twisted_Mind

Summary: He blames Lydia. He would never have even considered this if she hadn't mentioned it like it was legit. But short of falling down the rabbit hole of student debt, he doesn't have a whole lot of options. So, whatever, he can try the sugar baby thing. No one has to know.Of course Peter has to go and ruin everything.

Across Your Skin, My Love

Author: lavenderlotion

Summary: Stiles knew he had a soulmate - had gotten his mark when he was fourteen like everyone else. He just - he just didn’t think he would meet the man for years to come. he knew the statics, knew that most people didn’t meet their bonded until their early-mid twenties.So he was really not been expecting to his name on the arm of his hot new English teacher.He had to admit it turned out pretty amazing, though.

Don’t Come For His Family

Author: lavenderlotion

Summary: In the three years Stiles had been with Peter, the man had only talked about his family a handful of times - and as far as Stiles knew had never once spoken to them. So he wasn’t exactly excited to see the mans family, even though that’s exactly what they were about to do.It does not go to plan.

You Wouldn’t Believe Me

Author: gryvon

Summary: The Hales are famous. Their emissary is infamous.

Wrong Number

Author: SushiOwl

Summary: "What do you and your coven desire from the dark?" Sometimes he liked be cheesy. Humans were into it, otherwise they wouldn't put it in their insipid (but wildly entertaining) TV shows.The witch boy finally set down his reading material. Peter had thought it was a book, but it was actually a plastic folder with photocopies of pages from a book. Peter would have to decided if he was insulted later."No coven, just me," the witch said, closing his folder. There was a Batman symbol on the front, so Peter was certainly insulted.He was not about to put on such a show for one human either. He let his mist drop and gave the boy an unimpressed expression that included a lifted brow and lips tilted down at the corners. "Alright then, just you. What deal are you looking for?""Will you take my virginity for bragging rights?"

Boy Who Cried Wolf

Author: ladypigswagon

Summary: Peter is hungry. It’s a raw ache, the kind that drives Peter to hunt almost desperately. His paws pound against the earth, kicking up black dirt and fallen leaves as he runs. It’s early afternoon, sunlight streaming through the gaps in the canopy, dappling the ground. Peter can hear a herd of deer a few miles west, but deer are tricky. There are too many variables, too many antlers and hooves. He could probably pick off a few with a pack.

The Fourth Prince Of The First Realm

Author: RebaK1tten

Summary: “My god, Peter, only you!” Derek whispers. “You didn’t rescue just any old fairie, you rescued their Queen!”“Am I supposed to apologize? I didn’t ask for credentials before I helped her, you know,” he hisses back. “See, this is what happens when you do something nice, it just bites you on the ass.”** Peter rescues the fairie queen and as a reward, he's told he'll marry her son. It's not an option.

The Snake And The Otter

Author: Therapeutic_Steter

Summary: When Stiles was born, a black snake appeared into his crib on the first full moon and never left.Claudia, whose soulmate animal was a lion, hadn't even flinched, smiling and cooing at the little snake in welcome. It flicked its tongue at her, beady eyes sparking blue, and let Claudia gently stroke it's head. John, whose soulmate animal was a bear, just shook his head, wondering at what kinds of trouble his son and his soulmate would get in to.

If I Were ‘A Were’

Author: syriala

Summary: Stiles knew that he wasn’t the most subtle person to ever grace this earth. But compared to the Hale’s he was a fucking ninja. He couldn’t believe that no one had figured out yet that they were actually werewolves. Real, actual, honest to god werewolves.That no one knew about.Stiles really started to question this town’s intelligence.But Stiles was determined to find out how many dog/wolf related puns he could make before someone caught on to the fact that he actually knew.

I’ll Watch Anything As Long It Is With You

Author: Sage_Speight_Trickster_In_Training

Summary: Ever since Stiles was a kid and first hear his parent's story about how they met with their soulmark he couldn't wait until his showed up. He would always marvel how some day he would look down and see the first words his soulmate would say to him. His best friend Scott got his words when he was eight and ever since those words showed up he would carry at least four pens with him everywhere he went, waiting for the moment when someone asked him to borrow one. The prettiest girls is school, Lydia, got hers when she turned ten and Stiles felt his first heartbreak when they weren't his words. That was also the year his mother got sick and the words on his father's lower left knee , written in his mother´s hand writing, began to fade. Stiles knew that when soulmates faded that that meant their soulmate was dead. That same year he went with his father when he went to a tattoo parlor to get his mother's first words tattooed onto him so they would stop fading.

Naked Terror

Author: Bunnywest

Summary: Peter's only here to inspect the fire extinguisher. The last thing he expects is for a naked man to come charging at him, swinging a baseball bat and screaming.

Kiss Me Once, Shame On Me

Author: yesterday

Summary: “I don’t care about tradition, you try and get me to kiss you under the mistletoe and I will punch you,” Stiles said.“Where is your holiday spirit, Stiles? This is for charity; it said so outside.” Peter was smirking. He was right. Stiles set the sandwich board out there himself this morning— “For every smooch under the mistletoe, one dollar will be donated to Beacon Hills Children’s Hospital!”

Forget everything Stiles ever said about Christmas cheer. He officially hated the holidays.

The (Sometimes) Happy Holidays Series

Author: Potrix

Part 1: (Not So) Silent Night

Summary: “Santa Claus, 42, looking for a sweet angel, 18+, with big or small Christmas ornaments for not so silent nights together. Tree stand available and ready. No Santa hat, no action.”Several people swivel around to glare at Stiles, but, really, he can’t be held responsible for this. Sure, a waiting room isn’t the best place to suddenly burst out laughing, but it’s totally the fault of whoever laid out the latest issue of Bella Diva. It’s not like Stiles normally makes a habit of buying and reading women’s magazines.Apart from the occasional Cosmo. The quizzes are always hilarious.

Part 2: (Annoyingly) Happy Valentine’s Day

Summary: “Welcome to the Beacon Blossom!” the saleswoman behind the counter chirps happily, and Peter watches, a little dazed, as the blinking plastic hearts attached to her headband bounce back and forth. “What can I do for you on this fine day?”Peter deposits the bouquet of red roses on the counter, and nearly drops his wallet when the woman coos—actually coos—and says, nodding her head, “A classic. Your wife will absolutely love them, I guarantee it.” She swipes Peter’s card when he hands it to her, then points it at a basket stuffed full with some of the most garishly pink teddy bears Peter’s ever had the misfortune of seeing. “Now, since today’s a special day, if you buy a bouquet and one of our Sweetheart Bears, the cheaper item is 50% off.”It takes some effort, but Peter manages to bite back his initial, sarcastic retort about the bear clashing with his furniture. Or anything else not absolutely, horrifyingly hideous, for that matter. “Just the roses, please.”

The Holly Bears A Berry Red As Any Blood

Author: ladypigswagon

Summary: Stiles swears as the car hits another pothole dead on and he goes flying out of his seat, hardly restrained by the seat belt, smacking his head on the roof.“Language,” John says mildly, turning the page of his newspaper. Stiles grumbles, rubbing the back of his head. He can feel a lump developing.“Every year,” Stiles says, “every goddamn year, the Hales send their craziest driver to pick us up. Every year we hit every pothole and every year I get a lump on my head. In the same place! How this hasn’t damaged me permanently I don’t know?!”

Winding Roads To Flowering Fields Series

Author: Tahlruil

Part 1: Deserving Him

Summary: Scott couldn't even seem to live comfortably in his world of black and white absolutes. He could understand why the Lahey boy had broken with Derek, he supposed - his nephew was never meant to be an Alpha, and that had always been painfully obvious. What Peter didn't understand was why he'd then put himself deliberately in Scott's pack. He didn't understand why anyone would align themselves with someone so pathetic when it came to leading others. He didn't understand why new betas, humans and other supernaturals alike flocked to him, an Alpha who had no true understanding of what it meant to be pack. Peter didn't understand why Stiles - beautiful, intelligent, deadly Stiles - chose to call Scott his Alpha.'Peter has been watching Stiles for quite some time now, and he has trouble understanding why Stiles chooses to align himself with Scott. The McCall Alpha doesn't even seem to notice that his best friend is still reeling from his encounter with the Nogitsune... or that Peter is the one trying to soothe that hurt.Stiles, Peter is sure, deserves better.

Part 2: Not An Idiot

Summary: Maybe in some places an idiot could get elected Sheriff - not in a town like Beacon Hills. Dumb deputies (or just very unlucky ones) tended to die before they got the chance to try to move up the ranks. So John Stilinski isn't an idiot even if he (on occasion) chooses not to see the whole picture. Stiles is getting better and he's grateful - he just wishes that maybe it was someone else getting his kid get there.Even though it's not the smartest move, he calls a friend about it.He's not an idiot, okay, he's not. He just... needs a little help, and who better to help with a werewolf problem than an Argent?

Part 3: Ground Me

Summary: "...this is not 'guard duty', you idiot. This is pack - the way pack is supposed to be." Stiles probably should have been freaked out or maybe turned on by the way Peter pressed his nose to the crook of Stiles' neck and breathed in deep. He definitely should have felt one of those things when Peter dragged his cheek upward and then skimmed it over Stiles' jaw. He didn't though, not with what he knew about werewolves; all he felt when his wolf scented him was a sense of comfort, belonging and home. "And you don't take 'nights off' when it comes to being pack."

Part 4: Coming Home Is Something Strange

Summary: Two weeks into living under John's roof, Chris realized that all four of them were settling into a routine that was decidedly, disturbingly, domestic. He and Peter banded together in the fight to keep the Stilinskis healthy, and half the time they seemed to end up doing the grocery shopping together. So long as they only talked about things like how many apples they should get and if they needed to pick up some detergent, things between them were just fine.They'd only tried to discuss the deeper things once. It had ended in a bloody nose for Chris and a knife laced with wolfsbane sticking out of Peter's thigh. Neither Stilinski male had been happy about it. Their reactions forced Chris and Peter into another unspoken truce, and that was... okay. Maybe they didn't need to hash out everything between them. Things had been a fucking mess between their families for centuries; their best bet seemed to be to let sleeping dogs lie.

Part 5: A Surprising Visit

Summary: "No! It's not... it's nothing like that. Hi Stiles. I'm sorry for just, you know. Showing up like this? But I thought that if I called or texted you might not. Uhm. Open the door. I still should have texted. I'm sorry. It's just that you mentioned watching Mulan and I really love that movie. And we've all been being really bad friends except maybe you and I weren't friends? Because with everything that happened I feel like I never got to know you, not really. And then I guess I got caught up in trying to get to know Scott. Have I mentioned I'm sorry?""Couple times," Stiles said, blinking a few times as he tried to process what was going on. "So you came over to hang out?""You sound surprised," Kira said quietly. She looked kind of sad, which he didn't completely get but whatever. "Which means I'm a terrible friend. But!" Kira reached into her bag and pulled out a DVD - it was Mulan, and Stiles felt something warm and sort of gooey unfurl in his chest. He already had a copy, but that she had brought one meant that she really had come to watch it. She had come just to hang out with him without pack business forcing her to, and that was pretty awesome. "I'm going to try and change that."

Part 6: When I Have A Pack, Things Will Change

Summary: "Well it is a grocery store, Scott," he said without looking up from the package of steak in his hand. John had been having a difficult time at work with all those pesky disappearances and Peter thought the man deserved a treat. He had to weigh that against the knowledge that Stiles would be upset, however, which had him debating if he shouldn't grab the 'extra lean' cut instead of going with the regular kind of lean. "Even us deviously evil masterminds must eat and the takeout in this town is deplorable."Peter heard a subsonic growl leave McCall's throat and let himself smirk with satisfaction. Frustrating the so-called Alpha was different than pissing him off, surely...

A Match Made In Hell Series

Author: JPA

Part 1: Marked

Summary: Stiles is eleven when he gets the courage to look into the mirror and see what his soulmate mark reads.

Part 2: I Wish

Summary: Peter had been born without a soulmark.

Part 3: Revelations

Summary: “Ah, Stiles,” Peter says, eyes gleaming. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

Rant-A-Thon

Author: Ragga

Summary: So Stiles may be having a bad day. Or a week. Or a semester. But he knows he just needs to blow off some steam and then he will be better than ever. And accosting a random guy and blurting out his entire life story? That sounds like the perfect idea!And as it turned out, it was. OR Stiles rants a lot and then Peter feeds him. And soulmates.

Merry Christmas, Dude!

Author: lostwithoutmyanchor (mysourwolf)

Summary: The beat was pressing down on Stiles in a pleasant way, pushing out some of the worry and tension. It was the last week before finals and Stiles just couldn’t take it anymore. He’d been studying non-stop for three weeks and had felt like his head would explode. Even the promise of going home to spend Christmas with his family was barely holding him up. Also with it being his last year of college and completely packed, he hadn’t had time to get laid at all. Which was totally unacceptable. OR, the one where Stiles has mind-blowing sex with a hot stranger.

Cookies & Mates

Author: withinmelove

Summary: Stiles doesn't expect to enjoy pretending to be Peter's mate. Surprises are in store for him.

Shifter Criminal Investigative Service Series

Author: Heather_Night

Part 1: Vanilla

Summary: Cutie startled violently, crying out, and Peter’s wolf demanded he take care of the creature.The vanilla scent meant being in close proximity wasn’t a hardship so Peter lifted the lightly squirming body into his arms and shushed him.Thank the moon neither his nephew nor niece could see him now as he was pretty certain this qualified as cuddling.Peter did not cuddle. Ever.

Part 2: En Garde

Summary: Usually it was the third date when things went to hell for Stiles. Maybe he tried too hard or maybe he just wasn’t that likeable but usually after meeting up one-on-one for the third time the person he was interested in either gave him the ‘let’s be friends’ speech or they lost his number.This time felt different but Stiles tried to tamp down on his soaring hopes. Peter was an off-the-scales out-of-his-league level of hot, and he was also smart, accomplished and older. What did he see in a spaz like Stiles?

Part 3: Transformation

Summary: Now was not the time to lose his focus as the Shifter Criminal Investigative Service was in the midst of a big investigation regarding a new series of seemingly connected homicides. Unfortunately his wolf, and his human side for that matter, wanted to see Stiles and make sure the younger man was okay.

Part 4: Unfettered

Summary: “It’s what? You obviously don’t want me in Beacon Hills. Is it that you think your dad will disapprove of me because of our age difference, your alpha will disapprove of me because I’m not good enough, you don’t want to be seen with a werewolf or what exactly is the issue here?” Peter’s tone was as bland as the expression on his face. The more upset Peter became, the more dispassionate he appeared.Not good. It was time for damage control. Check that; it was time for the truth. Stiles gathered his courage. “I don’t want you to see me the way everyone in Beacon Hills does. There, are you happy?”

Black Fire

Author: Green

Summary: Deaton is all about the balance of the universe, about order. Stiles's new magic - gifted to him from the Nogitsune - is the complete opposite of that. Deaton calls Stiles's magic "dark" and seeks to imprison him in Eichen where he's no threat to the balance. Peter and Stiles go on the run - but they can't run forever.

When The Going Gets Tough, The Tough Escalate The Problem

Author: Julibean19

Summary: “I didn’t tell you because I knew what you were going to say,” Stiles hedges, shrugging his shoulders.“And what am I going to say?” John challenges, raising his eyebrows.“That he’s too old for me and you hate him.”Peter pushes the screen door open with one hand, the other balancing a perfectly browned quiche. He’s dressed in a dark blue cashmere sweater and grey slacks. To Stiles, he looks like a dream. To his father, he’s sure to look like his worst nightmare.“He’s too old for you and I hate him,” John says immediately.

Ink And Unanswered Questions

Author: Callidostreet

Summary: Talia was always covered in marks from her soulmate: reminders to feed the dog, interesting words-of-the-day, random stick doodles. They didn't meet face-to-face until middle school, but they'd known each other inside out long before then. When Peter is old enough to understand what the word 'soulmates' entails, he can't wait until he finds his."Are you there?" Is the first thing Peter writes on his body, his excitement is practically tangible.He won't get a reply for another 10 years.

See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil (Doesn't Mean There Is No Evil)

Author: syriala

Summary: Stiles knew that something was wrong. He had a very perceptive eye for evil and things that were going wrong and something in his life was going very wrong. But when neither Scott nor Derek believed him it was up to Peter to keep Stiles safe.

Could Frame Thy Mortal

Author: orphan_account

Summary: "It’s normal. Spending every waking second watching Hale is normal. In many ways, Hale is his whole universe: tracking his movements, waiting for what he does next, wondering what he’s thinking. The only outside stimulation he gets otherwise is the shower visits, and even then it’s only when Chris is the one taking him that he gets any engagement. Stiles knows Hale like he knows the water pipe. The sixty two bars that line the side of their cage. Like the minute of cold water that hits Stiles’ skin before the heat finally comes in the shower block. "Held in an Argent facility, never knowing who he can trust, Stiles pays for his survival with the only currency he has.

more fics: part 4

#teenwolf #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfic #fanfic rec #steter #peter hale #stiles stilinski

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angelofthenightposts · 6 years

Text

Feel it still.// Ch.1

New Beginning; n. 1 a start; commencement. 2 often pl a first or early part or stage. 3 the place where or time when something starts. 4 an origin; source.

Series Masterlist. | My Masterlist.

“I still can’t believe she is kicking you out.”

You take a big sip of your coffee and nod as your friend, Michela, finally catches up on the big news. You glance out of the boutique café, people are crossing the sidewalk. The guys in the fancy suits are probably on their way to the nearest restaurant for a lunch break; a group of teenagers messing with each other.

You reply to her without taking your eyes off the street. “She’s a bitch! Even after everything she’s done, I didn’t kick her ass out, but just because her girlfriend doesn’t like me, now I have to find a new place. “

You moved into a small condo on the other side of the city a half and years before, but thanks to the economy, the rent kept getting higher and higher for you to pay it without eating bread for the rest of the month and well, as anyone with the same problem would do, you rent the other room. At first, there was no problem; Maria was just the kind of girl who knew how to have fun, she was a few years younger than you, still in college but it didn’t matter at all. After meeting a girl named Lisa at a frat party a few weeks ago, well, they became a couple quickly after. You, of course, tried to respect their honey moony relationships as much as you could which meant that you stayed out of their sight and gave the couple some alone time since all they did was eat, sleep and mostly fuck. But quickly after her girlfriend started to piss you off; you already knew Maria was messy, it was easier to pick up after her rather than confront her about it, and history was full of your failed attempts to convince her to tidy around. But Lisa, she was something else; she acted like she never heard of the detergent or trashcan before. They were turning the condo into a piece of crap; one day, after your shift at the bar, all you wanted was to find a clean and quiet home, but as you walked into the loud party which you weren’t informed of, things got pretty problematic quickly. Hence Maria did pay most of the rent, she had this idea of overpowering you, and oh boy, she was wrong.

“You can stay with me if you want.”

You look at your childhood friend, Michela and you have been friends since you were nine years old, and shake your head no. “What, no, your roommates are even worse than Maria.”

“Well, what are you going to do then? Can you even rent a flat on your own? “You roll your eyes to her question. You are twenty-five, but your hands still tremble every time you have to check your bank account. Of course, you aren’t broke but don’t earn enough to have the luxury of living alone either. You check the wristwatch your mother gave you as an 18th birthday gift only to notice that your shift is going to start in one hour.

"I don’t know. There has to be someone who’s looking for a roommate, right. I looked at ads on the internet all night, they were full of crap, but at the end of the tenth page, I think I found one. We’re going to meet at Varuna. “

"Okay, that’s a good idea; I’ll send you if I can find a good one in case this one goes wrong.”

You give her a nod with gratitude as you stand up and wear the leather jacket you placed on your chair, “If your friend doesn’t want to live in a cardboard box, she should go and earn some money. I’ll see you at Varuna later tonight. “

You lean over to kiss her left cheek before you grab your cardboard coffee mug, and Michela yells at after you, "Be careful, try not to kill anyone.”

//xxx//

You stop wiping out the wooden counter, it is all shiny and clean from spilled beer, and check the time. The clock on the wall shows nine o'clock, and there is still no word from the people you are supposed to meet.

“What are you thinking about?” David, who got the job a few months after you, asks; his hands full of empty beer bottles he picked up. He is a cool guy, you became good friends in a short time, and he’s fun to work with. “The possibility of living in a cardboard box in the back alley…”, you answer with a big sigh, even the idea of it makes you shiver.

“You know the couch in my living room is always available to you, right? It’s warmer, more comfortable, and safer than the box. "

"Thank you, Dave, I appreciate your offer, I really do, but I can’t stay on your couch.” You grab one of the cold beer bottles and he rolls his eyes at you.”I’ve already spent the last few days at your house.“

You leave the semi-full beer on the counter and pat his back before a group of women walks towards you to order drinks.

Most of the nights, the bar is crowded; full of patient customers. But tonight is different, as you can’t understand where all of these college kids suddenly find this place, David comes back with another orange juice bottle; tonight's favorite drink to order is apparently some sort of a cocktail, a mix of orange juice and vodka. You lean forward to hear what this young girl is trying to order but it’s too loud to understand her. She does her best to make herself loud and clear but Rihanna is louder than her. It takes a couple of minutes more to figure out she just wants to close her tab and you let David take care of it. You are tired; it’s less than an hour before your shift is over.

The man sitting on a barstool lifts his empty glass and you walk to your left to refill it. You take another sip of your glass full of vodka; being a bartender has privileges, and you love it. "I mean, I love her, you know? Even though she cheated on me, I want to go to her and beg until she takes me back. “

From the moment he walked through the bar door, he is telling his problems with his girlfriend, or his ex-girlfriend. You can’t take it anymore and put your hands on the counter to lean over him.“Dude, if you want a piece of advice; leave that girl behind.”

That is just one of the phrases that you had to memorize to tell troubled customers. The other ones are, “This will pass.” “I’m sorry for your loss.” “So your boyfriend dumped you, too bad.” He sighs heavily and you know he would continue to talk about it until he can’t even remember his name. Your problems are enough; you don’t need to listen to others.

“Hey, baby! Please give me a drink, anything.” Michela sits down on the empty stool and leaves her handbag on the counter. “The shooting took so long, I am exhausted. I don’t get paid enough to boss around by newbie photographers. ”

She chugs the tequila shot you put in front of her and grimaces as the liquid burns her throat on the way down. You lift your hand, “Slow down, girl.”

“How are you doing?” she asks you, clearly feeling better after the shot.

“I still have a chance to live in a cardboard box. The person I was supposed to meet didn’t show up.”

You watch Michela taking her phone out and she turns it over to you, you squint at its bright screen to see it better. “Then you’ll be delighted to see that. I found the perfect place for you. “

It is an ad for a condo a few blocks away from the bar; you scroll down to read the information and hear someone calling out for her. "Yeah, yeah, you want a beer, wait for a fucking minute! “

The rooftop apartment was nice, nicer than you expected; the empty room is spacious and has a big window. According to the description, the walls are painted in Palladian blue and have Zambaiti Parati wallpapers. You can’t help but think that whoever wrote it is interested in decorating; because you have no fucking idea what Zambaiti Parati is. "Is it weird that the rent so cheap for such a beautiful place? It would be terrible to meet a pervert or a person living with five hundred cats. “

Michela takes her phone back as she rolls her eyes, “I think we’re talking about a cute girl here. Haven’t you read it? It’s not like something a maniac would write. And you don’t have many options so you should definitely check it out. What more do you have to lose? “She is right; you literally have nothing to lose.

//xxx//

The next day, you’re on the sidewalk across the apartment building, it looks like an old building, you’d be suspicious if it were a rich-looking one, but it is clear that it has recently been redecorated. After a quick elevator ride, you find 4A, but before ringing the doorbell you do your best to make yourself presentable; your clothes are wrinkled and you still smell like heavy alcohol even though you changed your shirt with what Michela gave you and put deodorant. You just hope that they don’t think you are an alcoholic. You take another deep breath and repeat yourself, “It’s all going to be okay.” A couple of seconds later, a blondish, six feet tall man opens the door and you smile at him, “Hi! I’m Y/N. I’m here for the ad. We’ve talked on the phone, texted actually. ”

He gives you a nod and moves aside and you take it as a sign to enter. The flat fascinates you as you stepped in; it is decorated with simple, elegant furnishings, and it has an open floor concept with big windows from the ceiling to the floor. On your left, there is a hallway; probably the bedrooms are over there. You stop staring around as he introduces himself, “I’m Steve, by the way.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Steve. You have an amazing condo.” He walks to the kitchen area and opens the cabinet to grab two cups, he points at the coffee machine next to the fridge and you nod at his offer. He leans his back against the kitchen counter and takes a sip of his coffee after he leaves yours on the kitchen island. You study him head to toe; he is a masculine man and has the same body type as a fitness model, you wonder if it’s his job since he looks like one. Michela would eat him up if she wasn’t so busy to join you, but he’s not your type.

“Thank you, I could show you the room if you like.” he clears his throat and your cheeks turn bright red for getting caught while staring at him.

“Um, that would be great!”

“Dude, you should’ve seen how Sam struggled with the birds on the rooftop.” Before you take another step behind Steve to the bedroom, two men walk in through the open door, you only realize that there is a balcony door next to the armchair on your left. They notice you and stand still at the same time you turn to look at them. One of them is African-American, probably in his early thirties, and has a stern expression on his face. The other one looks much younger, he has shoulder-length black hair and he is also shirtless; he first arches his left eyebrow and then gives you a snarky smile. “See Sam, our boy finally meets a beautiful girl.”

You frown and open your mouth to clear this misunderstanding but before you can even say a word, Steve folds his arms over his chest and coughs, “Guys, this is Y/N, she is here to see the room. And this jackass is Bucky. ”

“Oh is she? That’s better news. “Bucky puts his hands on the pockets of his black jeans after you shake hands; it is so clear that he is a total playboy, no need to rocket science to understand that.

"Sorry, we’re not looking for a female roommate.” You turn your head to look at Sam who by the way never spoke since he walked in. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he’s staring at you, you feel like he could kill you with his gaze.

You try to hide your frustration behind a bitter smile; you really liked the place and didn’t think you’d be rejected. “Um, I should get going then, nice to meet you all.”

"Wait, wait! Let’s not rush this one.” Bucky stops you at the door, he looks at his friends, mostly Sam, over his shoulder and then turns you around with himself, you have no choice but to walk back in with him, “Why don’t you look at the room while we discuss? See if it’s good for you, I’m sure you’ll like it though.”

”Really?” you ask surprised, keeping your eyes especially away from Sam. ”Okay, where’s it? “

"It’s at the end of the hall, the door on the right,” Steve replies as he points with his index finger.

It is ten minutes after you left the guys alone to check the room; you all are back in the living room. They are sitting on the big grey L-shaped couch, and you chose the armchair across from them. Sam doesn’t seem too happy about the final decision and it gives you hope.

“When I first saw the ad, I thought you were a girl.” Steve lifts his eyebrows as he tries to understand what that’s supposed to mean, you clear your throat, “Well… It isn’t something that a man like you would write. I think it’s cool that you know the color of the Palladian blue. “

"I told you to not write that.” Bucky says with a big grin forming on his lips and Steve glances at him and tells something about how much he hates the phrase, “I told you so,”

“So, what do you do? If we’re going to live in the same house, I think we need to know you better. “Sam puts an end to their bickering and you think an answer to his question. You, of course, want to impress them but you can’t figure out what their reaction would be when they learn about your job. They don’t look like they would be judging type, for you there is nothing wrong, but still well except Sam; you have to be careful with your answer until you get the keys.

"Well, I am a bartender; I’ve been working in a bar that’s not far from here. I’m twenty-five; I don’t have a boyfriend or a pet. “You tell them in one breath before they ask another question about your personal life.

“You work at Varuna, right? Now I know why you are so familiar. We usually hang out there, I saw you there a few times. ” You look at Bucky; you can’t remember seeing these three men before. But the bar is usually so crowded, even if you saw them before, you just wouldn’t remember. So you decide to play along and nod at him as you push a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“Guys, I don’t want to rush your decision but my shift is about to start. So am I renting the room or not?” you ask after you check the time.

“Are drinks on you to celebrate?” You grin at your new roommates when Steve asks you. You feel so relieved that you want to cry right there. You all stand up and walk to the door after you say, “Of course!” Steve grabs the keys in the bowl on the cabinet before taking his jacket and hands the keychain to you.

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