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teaberrii · 2 years

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Chapter Four: Hi, Neighbour

Alhaitham has the looks and the smarts. He will also be the stand-in CEO for his grandfather's company for a year.

But, he's been mysteriously cursed to turn into a cat every night since his eighteenth birthday… until he meets you, an employee at his grandfather's company, who rescues him as a cat and changes him back with one kiss.

Alhaitham/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on AO3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

You're usually the one responsible for your sleepless nights. Like that time when you were nervous about giving your first solo presentation in school. Or, the time you stayed up way too late for your first project early in your career, wanting to perform well as one of the team's youngest members. You rarely lose sleep because of other people. Well, it seems like Alhaitham just loves to surprise you.

It's already midnight, and you can't stop thinking about what happened today.

“Wait… You two know each other?” Kaveh gasped when you and Alhaitham exchanged a look. “Don’t tell me you’re the soulmate!”

“...The what?”

“Don’t bring up that nonsense,” Alhaitham warned.

Kaveh coughed. “Well, soulmate or not, it’s not every day you get to live across from a CEO.”

Alhaitham shot his friend a deadpan look, and Kaveh innocently looked in the other direction.

“You’re… a CEO?”

Alhaitham assumed you haven’t looked at that official welcome email. Otherwise, you would know. While he knew which department you were in, he didn’t go to see you. Though, sometimes, he’d thought of you barging into his office and demanding an explanation of why he was here. It was a ridiculous scenario, but it kept him entertained. Little did he know, it was those moments where he’d subconsciously smile.

He kept to himself that he knew you and left it up to fate to decide whether he’d accidentally bump into you in the hall or somewhere nearby. Turned out fate had other plans.

Alhaitham didn’t get a chance to respond when Kaveh said, “Uh huh! At Sumeru Entertainment! He’s still a newbie, though.”

“Um, are you okay?” It was the voice of your real estate agent that snapped you out of it. “You just turned pale.”

“At… at where did you say?” you asked.

“Sumeru Entertainment.”

Alhaitham’s voice wasn’t helping.

“I… I work there," you finally said.

“You do?” Kaveh gasped. “Oh, my God! That’s… what a small world!”

“I know.”

Silence.

Alhaitham… knew? Since when? How did he know? Could it be from your conversation with Lumine? But, you never said where—

“I saw you,” Alhaitham continued. “...At the marketing department.”

The marketing…? Oh. It must be from that time.

“Ooh, did something happen?” Kaveh asked.

“I, uh, it’s getting late,” you finally said. “I need to go.”

You scream into your pillow. But then, you look up.

No. Who cares if he’s your CEO? It’s not like you have any direct connection. But the thought of living across from him is…

Your head hits the pillow again. Wait a minute. You look up. Why should Alhaitham influence your decision on whether to buy the place or not? You love the apartment. It's closer to your work. The neighbourhood is nicer. Transportation is also much more convenient. There are too many pros. And the thought of giving that up just because Alhaitham will be your neighbour makes you scoff.

You sit upright.

You made your decision. You’re going to make an offer. You’re going to move in… and it’s not because you also partly want to prove a point.

◆◆◆

“Ooh, I got it! What if the guy is actually an alien?”

Later that week, you’re brainstorming with your team on project ideas, writing them all down on the large smart table in the meeting room. But, this idea… it’s interesting and has potential.

"Okay," you say, looking at the many ideas scribbled on the notepad. "We have enough ideas to work with. Let's start narrowing them down."

“How are we going to do that?”

A knock comes at the door. As soon as it opens, you see your manager… and Alhaitham.

"Oh, please don't mind us," your manager says. "I bumped into Alhaitham earlier, and he was interested in learning about the creative process behind our films and dramas." Your manager smiles. "I knew you were having a creative meeting with your team today, so I thought we could listen in."

It's the first time you've seen Alhaitham since that day. Now that you know he's the new CEO, you've been mentally preparing yourself to bump into him in the hallway or at a restaurant nearby. There's no way he's going to catch you off guard. You almost scoff. Again, this man just loves to surprise you.

Still, you need to become accustomed to this; soon, he will be your neighbour. That's right. You closed the deal on the apartment just yesterday.

"I hope we're not interrupting," Alhaitham says. You watch him walk to the opposite side of the table; your team members instantly make room for him. "All of these look like great ideas." His eyes look from the screen to you. "How do you narrow them down?"

You don't want to overthink and say that he's testing you. Regardless, you welcome the challenge. "I like to start with the ending." You put your hands on the table. "Knowing how the story ends will help write scenes to achieve that ending." You smile slightly. "It'll also help with sequencing."

As he listens to you talk, Alhaitham sees the same sparkle in your eyes he saw that day at your house when you looked at him as a cat. It's easy to tell that you love what you do; the passion in your talk says it all. People also glow differently when talking about something they love. Alhaitham has seen it. But, there's something about you that draws him in. He can't take his eyes off you, but what scares him is that he almost doesn't want to.

Looking up, you see Alhaitham staring at you, and your mind almost goes blank. Perhaps it's the way he's looking at you. Attentive. Focused. But there's also something else. Curiosity. Maybe he's taken more of an interest in what you're saying. Regardless, you're suddenly losing the words on your tongue.

“Um, yeah, so… that’s it,” you finish. You almost want to bang your head against the wall for that eloquent ending.

"It was easy to follow your train of thought," Alhaitham says. "It was logical, and I understood why you would do things a certain way." Then, he smiles slightly, and your heart almost skips a beat. "I learned a lot."

You sigh softly once he and your manager leave.

“Were you nervous?” You look at your colleague, who’s smiling. “It’s rare to see you get nervous, boss.”

You hope it doesn’t happen again… around Alhaitham, that is.

You leave a little early to meet your mother at your new place on the same day. It's still empty as you've scheduled your move to be on the weekend to avoid clashing with work. When you told your family you sealed the deal, they were all thrilled. Though, your mother just had to add that it would be even better if you were moving in with a guy. But, you let it slide.

“Hey, mom.”

“This place is beautiful,” she says, walking inside the lobby with you. “It must’ve cost you a pretty penny.”

"Well, I think I got a good deal after I negotiated."

In the elevator, your mother spends a little time catching you up on what's been happening at her café. Opening a café has always been a dream of hers. So, when she retired as an accountant, she took the plunge and opened one in the city's business district.

“You look exhausted,” you say worriedly. “Why don’t you rest for a little bit? I’m sure the part-timers can handle themselves for a day or two.”

"I know they can. They're good kids. One of them is going to graduate from university this year." She looks at you. "It's hard, though. I'm sure you know."

You know. It’s difficult for you to take a day off when it’s not an official holiday. Work is constantly on your mind. But you’re still young. Your mother, on the other hand…

You unlock and open the door to your new place, allowing your mother to step in first. She takes a look around just as you close the door behind you.

“It’s nice, right?” you ask.

You and your mother chat about the place for a while, and then she changes the topic to the one you’re dreading.

“Lumine told me she gave you the pamphlet.”

“...She did. I’m not going.”

“Why not?”

“Mom,” you groan. “Do you even have to ask? I think it’s obvious.”

“The men this time—”

“It’s not about the men!" You sigh. "I’m honestly really happy right now. I’d rather be happy myself than be in an unhappy relationship.”

Your mom gives you a look. “Who said I want you to be in an unhappy relationship? I know you’re happy, dear. But I want you to be happier. Some memories… some feelings can only happen when you have someone around you.”

“I’d rather have it happen naturally,” you mutter.

“But you have to try!”

That's the thing. You don't want to. It's not like you never had suitors after your horrendous breakup. But you turned every single of them down… for years. Your mom never understood why, and you always used the same excuse. You didn't like them. You just weren't interested. When one guy went as far as to treat you like a literal queen, some of your friends called you "incredible" for turning down such a great guy. But you couldn't date him. Not when the demons of your first relationship still haunted you like no tomorrow.

“Mom, please… can we talk—”

"I don't want you with just anyone, so I specifically signed you up for this event. They're worthy of being with a strong woman like you."

You wish you could just disappear.

Your mother opens the door and walks out. “Go to that event.”

“No. I don’t—”

The elevator doors open, and Alhaitham walks out. You instantly stiffen as he makes eye contact with you… and then your mother. When Alhaitham gives you a small smile, your mother slowly turns to you with a raised brow.

“Hey, neighbour," he says.

Is that your new nickname now?

“...Hi, neighbour.”

It’s… strange calling your CEO that, but maybe it's better than Catboy.

Alhaitham smiles at your mother. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you.”

“My… it’s nice to meet you!” Your mother instantly turns to you. “Are you two friends?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

You and Alhaitham look at each other. What is he talking about? You aren’t friends!

“He’s my neighbour,” you say. "If that wasn't obvious already."

Your mother turns to Alhaitham. “How did you two meet? Here?”

How will Alhaitham respond? You’re a little curious.

“She helped me when I got hurt.”

Your eyes almost turn wide. He isn't going to tell her about the cat incident, is he?

“She was very kind to let me stay with her,” Alhaitham continues, and your jaw almost drops.

Your mother instantly turns to you. “He stayed with you?”

“It’snotlikethat,” you say, your words coming out so fast that even you had trouble understanding what you just said.

“But we got into a little fight, and she kicked me out.”

Your mother looks back at him, and you give him a pointed look. He’s asking for it.

“A fight, you say?” she asks.

"It was me in the wrong." This takes you by surprise. "I shouldn't have overstayed my welcome." Then, Alhaitham looks you in the eyes. "But, I'll always be grateful for her kindness during my time of need."

He's making you feel too many emotions at once, and it must stop.

“Mom,” you say, “I’ll walk you down.”

“Oh, but I haven’t gotten his name yet!”

"Alhaitham." You shoot him a deadpan look, which he returns with a ghost of a smile. Then, he says to your mother, "It's a pleasure to meet you, auntie."

You don’t think it can get any worse, but your mother also loves to surprise you.

“Are you single?”

“Mom!”

“...I am.”

Well, you have one of your secret questions answered, at least.

“Oh, my daughter is, too! I keep telling her to go to a matchmaking party, but she’s as stubborn as always.”

“Mom,” you say loudly. “I really think you should get going. It’s late.”

Your mother sighs. “Fine, fine.”

You meet Alhaitham’s eyes just as he says, “Goodnight, neighbour.”

“...Goodnight.”

This is definitely not how you’re expecting your evening to go.

◆◆◆

Over the next few days, your mother’s been asking you more about Alhaitham. So much that even your siblings now knew about him.

"So, you got a sparkly new place and a hot neighbour?" Lumine had asked. "I wish I had your luck, sis."

“What does he look like?” Aether had asked. “I’m so curious.”

That was only one out of the many questions.

What does he do? What's his family background? Morals? Values? You couldn't answer them as you barely knew him. You thought about letting your family know that he's your CEO, but you weren't sure what path that would lead. So maybe it was best to pretend you didn't know anything for now.

You've just finished lunch, and you're talking with your mother in an empty meeting room when she brings up Alhaitham… again.

“Mom, it’s not good to keep talking about other people, you know.”

“But I’ve been thinking… someone that handsome is bad news,” she says. You almost choke on your water. You’re still coughing when you hear your mother say, “But… I didn’t get a bad vibe from him.”

“What kind of vibe did you get from him then?” you deadpan. Then, before you can stop yourself, you ask, “Catty?”

“No, far from it! He was very polite.”

Not the definition of catty you’re going for, but… it’ll do.

“Is… he the reason why you’re not going?”

“To what? That matchmaking party?” You roll your eyes. “It’s not the first time I told you no, mom. It’s not because of him. I just don’t want to go.”

"Well, you have such a great catch living across the hallway from you."

“A great catch?” you ask incredulously. “You barely know him! What if he’s a crazy psychopath?” You really hope that’s not true.

“I trust my gut instinct. He really doesn’t seem like a bad guy.”

“Yeah, well, let me dash your hopes right now. Actually, he’s—”

Knock. Knock.

The door opens, and you see one of your colleagues.

“Hey. We have this room booked.”

“Oh, sorry,” you say, standing. Then, as you walk out, you say into your phone. “I have to get back to work. Let’s talk later.”

◆◆◆

Hours later, Alhaitham gets off another call and rubs his tired eyes. Is this the life of an executive? Just meeting after meeting after meeting? Then, just as he's about to return to work, he hears a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

The door opens, and his secretary walks in, holding a black and white suit wrapped nicely in plastic.

Alhaitham is about to ask when his secretary says, “Your grandfather asked me to pick this up for you for the awards night next week.”

“Appreciate it.” Alhaitham gestures to the couch. “You can put it there for now.”

"He… also asked me if you're bringing someone," he says, putting the suit neatly on the couch.

“...To the awards night?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t see why I would."

“In that case, he’d like you to take Layla with you.”

There's a name he hasn't heard in a long time. The daughter of one of the wealthiest family-owned companies in Sumeru… and an old family friend. While he and Layla have been friends for a long time, they lost contact when she moved away for university. Is she back?

“She’s coming back to open a subsidiary company under their name,” his secretary continues. “Your grandfather would like the two of you to get back in touch again.”

There’s obviously a motive, and Alhaitham isn’t going to fall for it.

"I'm sure she'll be busy readjusting. The last thing she needs is to attend an award show that has nothing to do with her."

“...I’ll relay the message.”

"You can also tell him to talk to me directly. No need for you to get involved with this." Alhaitham looks at the clock. "...It's late. Let's head back."

In the elevator, Alhaitham isn't expecting it to stop on your floor. When the doors open and you see each other, he holds your stare until you walk inside.

“Oh, hi, Alhaitham.” Alhaitham turns to Childe, who walks in after you with a smile.

Alhaitham stands behind you as he watches you and Childe make some casual conversation.

“I still haven’t thought about what to get Zhongli for his wedding,” Childe sighs. “Any ideas?”

“Aren’t you two supposed to be close?” you ask.

“What did you get him?”

Oh? Are you going to Zhongli’s wedding, too?

“It’s a surprise.”

“Oh, come on,” Childe groans. “Don’t be like that.”

“Yeah, well, deal with it.”

Childe gently nudges you. “I can keep a secret.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Let it go, Childe.”

“Never.”

Alhaitham clears his throat. You slowly look over your shoulder and see him staring at Childe. “She already said no.”

“Ah… yeah.”

It's the first time you've seen Childe speechless, and you look back, hiding a small smile.

The doors open, and you step out. As you and Childe walk together, you expect to see Alhaitham walk in another direction or past you, but you never do. Does this mean he's still behind you? You want to look, but you have no idea how to make it look not obvious. Maybe just a—

You gasp when you bump into a large man holding a hot drink that splashes on your clothes. You're still recovering from what happened when the man glares at you.

“Sorry,” you begin, “I—”

“Watch where you’re going!”

“Why are you yelling?” Childe asks.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Me? I’m—”

“Watch your language.” Everyone turns to Alhaitham, who’s walking toward you.

It looks like the man recognizes him as he stiffens.

Alhaitham takes out a napkin from his suit and gives it to you. “...Are you okay?”

You take it. “...I’m fine."

“With all due respect, this woman is the one who bumped into me,” the man huffs.

As you dab the stain on your clothes, Alhaitham removes his jacket and drapes it around you. You stop and look up, catching a glimpse of his worried stare before he glares at the man. Everyone in the lobby is looking at you now, and you just want to disappear into a black hole.

“She already apologized,” Alhaitham says. “There’s no need to yell.”

The man grumbles something and walks away.

“...Thanks for that,” you say. “I’ll clean this and give it ba—”

“We need to get you out of those clothes.”

Alhaitham's voice is so quiet and low that you think you imagined it. But then, you see the warmth in his eyes, and you almost melt.

“We wouldn’t want you getting sick,” he continues.

…Right. Of course. Where is your mind wandering to?

Chapter Five

End notes: I couldn't tag some people, but this story usually updates twice every week. Just so you know. :)

Tag list: @lordbugs @suoshiii @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @sakiimeo @ashtree-and-the-cats @ceylestia @forsh4dow @aalastors-blog @deathkat657 @kalpie @elernity @sentieence

#alhaitham x you #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #genshin al haitham #al haitham x reader #al haitham fluff #al haitham x y/n #al haitham #genshin alhaitham #genshin impact alhaitham

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dnpanimationstudioclone · 1 year

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villain/threat idea. A corrupt Real estate agent or other real estate related person wanting to gentrify Amity Park, promising to help make upgrades such as less ghost hauntings, only to realize they’re taking away what made Amity Park what it is like wanting to replace Nasty Burger with some trendy high class restaurant or coffee shop or perhaps wanting to make Casper High into a fancy expensive elite school, as most of the residents would have to leave and would cash in on new rich families moving in to put their kids in.

Warning small spoilers Moon Girl & Devil Dinosaur

I got the idea when I was watching a Moon girl and devil dinosaur ep and they had villains trying to gentrify the LES. It was a cool ep and it made me think what if Amity Park was in danger of that. Someone taking advantage of the City’s situation with ghosts, offer a solution of getting rid of or atleast decreasing ghost attacks by changing or flat out removing things that attract ghosts. For ghosts, things that remind them of their old life, things they use to do, that they’re still attached to back when they were alive. Unfortunately all these changes also take away what matters a lot to the community and trying to push them out for new richer tenants to move in, unable to afford the new Amity Park.

Danny-I don’t get it. How is getting rid of all this stuff gonna help with the ghosts?!

Villain-Well if its true about ghosts being attached to more sentimental and nostalgic things like these old houses or small shops, if we get rid of them, we can turn this wretched hive of a ghost town into a truly flourishing ghost-free City!

Danny-How is that flourishing for all the people of Amity Park!?

Villain-Didn’t say it’d be flourishing for them. And why stop at Amity! This could be expanded to all the other neighbouring areas like Elmerton! It will get way better for sure if this succeeds!

Danny remembers Valerie and how screwed she’ll be-Oh no.

Would prove a problem for many people. Danny and his family especially if it does cause less ghost hauntings, Valerie who’s already in a struggling financial situation and pretty much a lot of Amity Park’s community.

I imagine to take this villain down not only will the community rally together but even the Ghosts, perhaps to scare off the realtors and potential clients.

I talked to @a-sterling-rose about this and they pointed out how Val could be used as a pawn like how Vlad used her. So focused on stopping the ghosts, doesn't realize other dangers that can hurt her and the community she wants to protect. Might even team up with Danny to stop all this.

They could be an ally with Vlad at first, who could profit from all this and initially advocates their changes but on the other hand would drive the Fentons away including Maddie and Danny which Vlad wouldn’t exactly want and might end up becoming enemies and try to stop their plan.

I can also see this be a thing for Danny too. At first happy that there won't be as many ghosts until he realizes this would also hurt the people of Amity, even Tucker who’s a fan of new upgraded things and modern stuff, realizes that not all these “upgrades” are necessarily good.

Danny-Listen guys. I know we don't always see eye to eye and this doesn't exactly affect the Zone but, Amity Park is still your home. Many of you once lived here or atleast have come to make a place in it. You might cause trouble and haunt but it's because of how attached you are because u love Amity Park and I do too! And they want to take all the life out of it that's worth sticking around for! I know u hate me but are you really going to let them take Amity from you?

Lunch Lady-Not without a fight!😡 Got a plan?

Danny-Glad u asked.

I think it’d be a really cool idea to explore, especially for a modern Danny Phantom.

What do u think? I’d love to know💖

#danny phantom #dp ideas #phandom #valerie gray #danny fenton #vlad #vlad masters #plot ideas #dannyphantom #dp fic idea #dp ep side #dp idea #dp rewrite #dp rewrite idea #Dp prompt

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literaticat · 6 months

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Hi Jenn. A small press made me an offer and sent me a contract. I had someone very trustworthy and knowledgeable vet this (not a lawyer but someone highly versed and well-known in author/publisher contracts). They've raised quite a few things (more than I was expecting). There's going to be at least 2-3 big changes asked for and possibly another 3-5 smaller things (depending on how many I choose to let go). Would you recommend asking for everything or only choosing the most important ones? I'm also a bit t about approaching the publisher and not sure how to ask for the changes/who to say I had view the contract (I want to keep the name confidential), etc. Any input you would have for non-confrontational wording would be really helpful? I'm also afraid if I ask for too many changes, they might pull the contract - so any advice you could give to an author without an agent who is entering contract negotiations and is nervous about it would really be helpful. Thank you!

This is verging on feeling like legal advice or something and that makes me Very Uncomfy so just for the record: I'm not a lawyer, I'm not YOUR lawyer or your agent, I'm not giving legal advice, this Tumblr is for entertainment purposes only, !!! disclaimer disclaimer !!!

DO BE AWARE that a person who is not an agent might have different priorities than an agent would -- for example, your spouse may be a brilliant trial lawyer, but if they are not well-versed in publishing contracts specifically, they are not the best person to give notes on a publishing contract, because publishing contracts are notoriously weird; they will red-line the shit out of a publishing contract and have problems in every clause, and THAT would be insanely irritating for the contracts people.

But 2-3 big changes and 3-5 small changes? No sweat whatsoever, that's totally fine. I promise an agent would be asking for that many changes! That's very much in Normal territory. Real talk: If they were to get upset or pull the contract over your asking for a normal number of changes, that's a MASSIVE red flag, and you don't want to work with them.

First things first: I think the most important thing is that you read the contract yourself, and read your trustworthy and knowledgable friend's notes, and make sure you REALLY UNDERSTAND each point -- what the publisher was asking for, what you are asking to change, and why. This is important! Because if you are asking for changes, there's gotta be a reason, you aren't just asking them to move words around so they look better on the page, right? You need to totally understand what that reason is, so YOU can decide how important it is to you and how much you want to push -- or, indeed, if there are things you don't actually care enough to even ask about!

Then prioritize the asks you are making, at least in your own mind -- "this is a typo, this is a nitpick, this would be great to change but if not OK, this one is a dealbreaker." So when they come back to you with their response, you'll know how hard to push back.

(IF there is truly something where you can't figure out what it is even supposed to mean, and you don't think it's a PROBLEM per se you just don't know what the heck it is and googling or asking your friend didn't work, you can ask questions, too! Like "I'm not sure I understand ____ -- can you explain it?" -- just do TRY to understand everything first, so you can keep your notes down to a dull roar)

Second: I don't see any reason you'd need to tell them who looked at the contract, or that anyone did. You are their only point of contact here, it really doesn't make a difference to them if you had a team of lawyers read it, or a real estate agent looked at it, or a guinea pig scratched at it and you interpreted the scratches.

This is how I respond to contracts: I send an email, friendly and professional and to the point. There's zero reason to be contentious whatsoever here -- asking for changes or asking questions is 100% normal, this is not a problem AT ALL, so there's no need to feel defensive or apologetic or like you are somehow being demanding or anything of that nature. Channel your inner CONFIDENT person. :-)

"Hi, hope you had a great weekend, thanks for sending this over and for your patience as I reviewed it. I do have a few questions/changes:

And then I list them, in a bullet point kind of way, citing the clause that they are in, in the order of their appearance in the contract, like so:

-- Preamble, typo, my surname is misspelled, correct spelling is Laughran.

-- 1a Deliverables: The offer had a due date of 5/1/24, this has 6/1/24, is that a mistake?

-- 9 Option: Please strike entirely, or change to limit option to only same series / same characters, with option period to begin no earlier than 30 days after acceptance of this work rather than publication.

-- 14. Competitive works: Please add bold: "will directly compete"

Thanks so much! Jenn

I try to keep it as concise as possible, but also give them the reason I'm asking if there is one -- like, "this is a typo" or "The original offer actually said XYZ, but this says QRS". If there isn't really a reason aside from just you don't like that part, that's fine too -- but if possible, I'd say, can we strike this, OR, if we can't, can we change it in this significant way so that it does work for me. (In other words, you aren't just arbitrarily demanding they take things out -- if there's a way to make the language work for you, give them the option to strike it OR fix it.)

If you have a question, ask it. If you are asking for inserts of words/ language, provide the language you are asking to be inserted and where. If you are asking for changes in language, you can copy and paste the problem language from the contract and your proposed solution, or just explain what you are asking for and they can provide language if necessary. There's no One Way to do this -- Just make sure it's straightforward and easy to understand what you are asking to take out / change / add.

They will likely respond to you with a revised draft of the contract and notes in the body of the email, like so:

-- Preamble, typo, my surname is misspelled, correct spelling is Laughran. OK, sorry about that!

-- 1a Deliverables: The offer had a due date of 5/1/24, this has 6/1/24, is that a mistake? Editor confirmed that the June date is correct, the earlier May date was an error

-- 14. Competitive works: Please add bold: "will directly compete" OK

They will likely say yes to most of the stuff, especially the small stuff. You know what your priorities are, so if the points they said no to are not really a priority for you anyway, fine, accept and move on. If there's something you feel is truly a dealbreaker (like if they said they wouldn't change XYZ, and you WILL WALK AWAY if they don't change it) -- then DO push back.

Like, choose your battles, obviously, but if whatever-it-is is truly that important to you, now is the time to say so, because you don't want to sign a contract that has something you feel is truly abominable in it! If they refuse to change it, you can walk. If they change it enough so it's acceptable to you, great.

Do make sure you check the revised version of the contract and see that they actually changed all the things they said they would - sometimes typos and things may slip through the cracks, now is the time to catch them -- and then, when it is all kosher, they will send a final signing copy. Woohoo!

Good luck. You got this!

#contract stuff

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yatescountyhistorycenter · 1 day

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Do you know Yates County?: Yates County Oddity No. 1 through No. 26

By Jonathan Monfiletto

Anyone who has conducted research either through Yates County’s digitized newspapers or the Yates County History Center’s subject files has likely come across items titled either “Penn Yan Oddity” or “Yates County Oddity.” These items – snippets might be a good word – provide information about various aspects of local history, seeming to answer some sort of question or mystery.

Seeing so many of these snippets – and finding the answers but seeming not to find the question – I decided to scour our digitized newspaper database to see if I could find all of them, the questions with the answers. It turns out the oddities – 90 Penn Yan Oddity items, 52 Yates County Oddity items – were part of an advertising campaign in the 1940s for Baldwin’s Bank, then located at 127 Main St. in Penn Yan, the present-day home of the Arts Center of Yates The Penn Yan Oddities ran in The Chronicle-Express in consecutive weeks from February 20, 1947 to November 11, 1948, and then the Yates County Oddities picked up right away in the newspaper from November 18, 1948 to November 24, 1949. So, for more than 2 and a half years, readers of The Chronicle-Express learned something about local history each week in the newspaper.

Each item started out as an advertisement for Baldwin’s Bank with the phrase “Do You Know Yates County?” at the top of the graphic followed by the question for the week. In the middle, the bulk of the ad, would appear information about the bank’s various services and offerings. The bottom would direct the reader to look for the answer elsewhere on the same page and then look for another Oddity the following week.

In this article, I present Yates County Oddity No. 1 through No. 26. Each question and answer has been transcribed exactly as it appeared in the newspaper, which changes made only for typographical errors and not for grammatical errors. The only time words have been removed from the items is in the case of references to photographs that appeared in the newspaper.

1) Where are there 10 different classifications of soil within ½ mile?

A Yates County soil analysis made in 1916 shows that at Fiveville, a little south of Italy Hill, there are 10 classifications of soil within a half-mile radius: Wooster, gravelly silt loam and stoney silt loam, Volusia flat phase silt loam and silt loam, muck, Holly silt loam, Papakating silt clay loam, Chenango gravelly silt loam, Lordstown stoney silt loam, and Genesee silt loam.

2) What farm still uses an “old oaken bucket?”

There is an “Old Oaken Bucket” well still in use on the old McFarren farm, Penn Yan, RD 4, now owned by H.M. Fulkrod. The bucket is lowered by a rope and there is a wood hand brake to slow the speed as it descends the well. When filled, the bucket is drawn up by turning the crank attached to the wooden spool.

3) Who was the first white child born here?

The great grandfather of Charles Beaumont, Penn Yan insurance agent and real estate brother, is said to be the first white child born in what is now Yates county. Joseph Hopeton Beautmont was born Sept. 26, 1798, to James Beaumont, native of England, and Mary Malin Beaumont, flollowers of Jemima Wilkinson. Their child was the first born in the New Jerusalem settlement. J.H. Beaumont died June 27, 1893, in the residence at 109 East Main street, now owned and occupied by Herbert Thayer. The old “Beaumont” horseblock may still be seen in front of the residence.

4) Bricks for what building were made of clay dug from the building’s cellar?

Sixty years ago this summer clay was removed when the basement for Ball hall of Keuka institute and college was being excavated. The same clay went chiefly into the making of the interior bricks from which the present structure was built.

5) What township was called Vernon?

From Jerusalem township of Ontario county in 1803 a new township, including what is now Milo and Torrey, was created and named Vernon. But Oneida county had created a Vernon township a year earlier, so confusion resulted. As a result on April 6, 1809 the state legislature changed the name of Vernon township, Ontario county, to Snell, honoring the state senator, Jacob Snell from Montgomery county.

Residents of this area apparently saw no reason for honoring a senator from another county, so assembled in a protest meeting at the inn of Luman Phelps, located at the corner of Main and Head streets in the young village of Penn Yan. The group petitioned the legislature to change the name to Benton township, honoring Levi Benton, the first settler in the region. On April 2, 1810, Albany nodded consent.

Milo township was set up and apart from Benton township in 1818 and Torrey township was separated from Benton in 1851.

6) What traditional birthplace of a people is in Yates?

Bare Hill in the western section of Yates county on the east side of Canandaigua lake is famous in legends of the early inhabitants of Yates county as the supernatural birthplace of the Seneca Indians.

7) What was the first name of Starkey town?

Both Starkey and Barrington townships were originally, along with Tyrone, Wayne, and Reading townships, now of Steuben and Schuyler counties, a part of Frederickton in Steuben county. Afterwards Reading was cut off and the Town of Wayne, including what is now Barrington, was organized. In 1822 Barrington was organized with the boundaries that define it today and in 1826, along with Starkey, it was annexed to Yates county.

8) Where was the nearest toll gate to Penn Yan?

A toll gate on the Penn Yan Branchport plank roead was near the site of the Allison and Daniels office – the old Hanford farm. The toll gate at the other end of the road was near Esperanza at the foot of the old road that ascends the hill west of the spacious mansion. Many older residents can remember the ruins of this toll gate house.

9) What surveyor was first settler of a town?

John Mower, 18, carried the chain, served as cook and was in charge of the pack horses for the crew which surveyed the new pre-emption line from Pennsylvania’s north border to Lake Ontario. In 1790 he settled in West River hollow, Italy township. Italy was originally part of Middletown township, organized in 1789, but changed to Naples township in 1808. Seven years later Italy township was set off. John Mower is quoted in history as saying that one spring he killed 314 rattlesnakes on the west side of the stream not far from the rocky ledges where they hibernated. The township was then rich in a dense forest of noble trees.

10) What rural cemeteries were once next to churches?

The cemetery near Swing’s or Ovenshire’s corners on the Penn Yan-Dundee road in Barrington and the Nettle Valley cemetery on the Penn Yan-Potter road, road were once adjoining churches. The church buildings have long since been removed and their location obliterated.

Do you know of any others in Yates county?

11) What was the first barn west of Seneca Lake?

In 1791, according to tradition, Caleb Benton built a barn 30 by 40 feet, starting on Monday morning with trees standing in the woods. These, it is said, were felled, hewed, and framed and the barn enclosed so that wheat was drawn into it by Saturday.

This was reported to be the first barn built west of Seneca lake.

12) Is there a battle ground sites in Yates?

The nearest any part of the present area of Yates county came to becoming a battleground was Sept. 9, 1779, when 400 of General Sullivan’s riflemen were sent along the west side of Seneca lake from the site of Geneva to what is now Kashong point and there wrecked the Indian settlement. Resistance of the [Native Americans] was insignificant if not entirely lacking.

The power of Indians had been broken in the battle of Newtown, east of Elmira.

13) What is Lake Keuka unlike other lakes?

Lake Keuka is unique, but not because it is shaped like the letter Y.

Geologists say that it is perhaps the only body of Y-shaped water with one of the upper branches an inlet and the other an outlet. Elsewhere nature has made the two top branches inlets and the base branch an outlet. Early glacial action, say geologists, created this freak. Water flows in at Hammondsport, the south end, also at Branchport, one of the north ends, and flows out through the other north end by way of the East or Penn Yan branch.

14) How old is the Friend house?

While commonly referred to as 150 years, the actual age of the Jemima Wilkinson house in Jerusalem is a matter of dispute. Arnold Potter, descendant of the early Friend settlers, believes the dwelling was some five years in the building and was completed in 1815. Her death occurred four years later. The Friend joined her followers near City Hill, Torrey township, in 1790 and there built the first frame dwelling in western New York. This would have been 25 years before completion of the Jerusalem home which still stands.

15) Where is there a Kentucky coffee tree?

On the east side of Route 14, the Dresden-Geneva state road, just before crossing the bridge over Kashong creek as one drives north out of Yates into Ontario county is a Kentucky Coffee tree – a rare sight in this vicinity. The tree is conspicuous because of its large leaf and uniquely shaped seed pod.

Does anyone know of any others in Yates county?

16) Through what bay does Yates rainfall reach ocean?

Practically all the area of Yates county drains into Canandaigua, Keuka, or Seneca lakes or into Potter swamp and runs eventually through the St. Lawrence river and bay into the Atlantic ocean. But a very limited section of South Italy and Jerusalem townships drain into the Cohocton and a bit of southern Barrington into Waneta and Lamoka lakes from when the water may flow through the Susquehanna system into the Atlantic by way of the Chesapeake bay, some 1,000 miles south of the St. Lawrence.

17) How many Yates places use Old World names?

At least four Yates county townships – Italy, Jerusalem, Milo, and Middlesex – have names which were long famous in England or on the continent of Europe. Also two villages – Dundee and Dresden.

Do you know of any other Yates community names borrowed from other countries?

18) What famous orator was born in this county?

Some of the addresses of Red Jacket, famed Indian orator, have been included in printed collections of the famous speeches of the years. But Red Jacket may or may not have been born in Yates county. Historians disagree upon the place of his birth. It may have been near Branchport or at Canoga, in Seneca county.

Robert G. Ingersoll, agnostic and brilliant orator, was born in Dresden Aug. 11, 1833. His birthplace is being preserved in his memory.

19) Where is the highest spot in Yates County?

The highest spot in Yates county is 2,130 feet above sea level and includes a few acres on the high plateau just west of the Jerusalem township line in Italy, about six miles west and a bit north of Branchport. It was in this area that a bomber crashed during World War II, killing all occupants.

20) Where is the lowest spot in Yates County?

The lowest spot in Yates county is above sea level – and is located somewhere in the bottom of Seneca lake this side of the Seneca county line which is in the middle of the lake.

Within the last few years Yates county has “settled” a great deal – some 400 feet roughly. Up to that time the eastern boundary of the county was highwater mark on the west shore of Seneca lake, which is listed as about 444 feet above sea level. This boundary caused much confusion. Game Protector Clay White, for example, apprehending a duck hunter or fisherman off the Yates county shore for some violation, had to take his man all the way around the end of Seneca lake, possibly 40 miles, to bring him before a Seneca county official. Assemblyman Vernon Blodgett introduced a bill a few years ago placing the county boundary in the middle of the lake.

In spots Seneca lake bottom is said to be even a bit below sea level.

21) How may lakes are there in the county?

There are no lakes in Yates county – entirely within the county, that is.

More than half of the Lake Keuka shoreline is within Yates, about seven miles of the Canandaigua shore line and over 20 miles of Seneca lake’s west shore. Lakes Waneta and Lamoka are just beyond the county boundaries.

22) How many railroads are there in the county?

Three different railroad companies operate lines in Yates county: the Pennsylvania, the New York Central, and the Lehigh Valley, the latter running diesel motors over the Middlesex Valley line between Geneva and Naples. These are the first diesels to be used in regular service in the county.

23) How many schools are there in the county?

While there are 50 rural school districts in Yates county, according to Superintendent Stephen Underwood of Branchport, but 26 of them maintain a school. Of the remaining 24 districts, 8 have sold their buildings; the others being idle, actually there are 32 schools in Yates county, if you add to the above 26 rural schools, the Middlesex Valley and Dundee central schools, St. Michael’s Parochial school in Penn Yan, the Penn Yan Union school (which has five buildings), Lakemont academy, and Keuka college with its several buildings.

24) How many miles of state road are there?

According to George Havens, county superintendent of highways, the total public highway mileage in Yates county is 1,813.44. Of this total 149.18 miles are in county highways, 109.16 state roads, and only 55.10 of town roads.

25) How many post offices are there in Yates?

Two of the Yates county townships, Italy and Barrington, have no post offices. Three townships have one post office each: Rushville in Potter, Dresden in Torrey, and Middlesex in Middlesex township. Milo and Benton have two post offices each: Penn Yan and Himrod in the former, Bellona and Gage in the latter. Jerusalem township with three offices, at Branchport, Bluff Point, and Keuka Park, and Starkey with four, at Dundee, Rock Stream, Starkey, and Lakemont, bring the total number of post offices now operating in this county to 14. Years ago there were many more.

26) How many public libraries in Yates County?

Branchport, Keuka Park, Dundee, and Penn Yan now have the only libraries which are open to the public.

All of these are included as participants in the Yates County Community chest.

#historyblog #history #museum #archives #american history #us history #local history #newyork #yatescounty #newspaper #chronicleexpress #yatescountyoddity

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aebenvs3000w23 · 2 years

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My Ideal Role as an Interpreter

Over winter break my family took a road trip to Florida. We went to beaches, botanical gardens, and on an air boat ride through the everglades. Throughout the entire trip, the day and activity that sticks out most was when we went to Juno Beach and saw sea turtles.

Loggerhead Marinelife Center is a nonprofit organization that is focused on ocean and sea turtle conservation. There are a couple different reasons this day stuck out to me. One being the fact that sea turtles are outrageously cute and hard to forget. Two, the vast amount of information laid out in a very easy to grasp and interactive way. Third, the back story of how Loggerhead became the amazing organization it is today.

Eleanor Fletcher was a real estate agent who loved walking along the beach and finding little treasures as she went. She started to notice all of the sea turtles that were nesting on the shores of Juno Beach in the spring and summer (Loggerhead Marinelife Center 2019). Her curiosity leads her to become one of the earliest researchers on sea turtles in that area (Loggerhead Marinelife Center 2019). The locals knew her as “The Turtle Lady” and she began teaching children about turtle conservation; believing it to be the best way to help the turtles (Loggerhead Marinelife Center 2019). She started classes in her apartment and in 1983 she expanded into the Children’s Museum of Juno Beach. Expanding again in 1990 the name was changed to The Marinelife Center of Juno Beach (Loggerhead Marinelife Center 2019).

(Photos of Eleanor Fletcher "The Turtle Lady"(Loggerhead Marinelife Center 2019))

One women made such an impact on sea turtle conservation and rehabilitation. Loggerhead rehabilitates around 100 sea turtles each year as well as care for thousands of hatchlings (Loggerhead Marinelife Center 2019). She was not a biologist or a scientist, she just loved and cared for these turtles and her community.

As Freeman Tilden so beautifully put it: "If you love the thing you interpret, and love the people who come to enjoy it...you not only have taken the pains to understand it to the limit of your capacity but you also feel its special beauty in the general richness of life’s beauty” (Beck, n.d.).) I do not think there is a better example of this quote other than Eleanor Fletcher.

To describe my ideal role as an interpreter is not possible at this moment because I do not feel that extreme love for one place just yet. I could see it being somewhere in Ontario because this is my home and I love the variety of nature here. I would like to think that I would do a type of wildlife interpretation due to my deep love and passion for animals.

Just love alone is not enough to be a good interpreter, there are 6 principals all together and I bleakly described one of them. I have a long way to go and I look forward to my journey there.

(A small look at what Loggerhead Marinelife Center has to offer)

Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2019). Interpreting cultural and natural heritage: For A Better World. Sagamore Publishing.

Loggerhead Marinelife Center. (2019, December 13). Retrieved January 18, 2023, from https://marinelife.org/about/history/

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mega-hustler-blog · 2 years

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We Offered $128,000 Over List — But It Wasn't Enough!

Sunday evening, Kim and I made an offer on a house. The Greenwood Place (as we'll call it) was listed at $649,000. We offered $677,777 escalating to $777,777; with no repairs required; and a $50,000 appraisal gap waiver. Our offer was not accepted. That's right: Two months after selling our home — and three months after beginning to search for the next place — Kim and I have waded back into this crazy housing market. We're not sure how long this process will last (or what the outcome will be) but we're prepared to be searching for many weeks, if not months. Both our mortgage broker (Michael S.) and our real estate agent (Michael K.) tell us we're doing things exactly right for this market. Kim and I both have credit scores over 800. “Everything looks unbelievably perfect here,” Michael S. told us in June. “That's amazing. Perfect credit.” We've sold our previous house and are currently renting a place while we search for another. This allows us to make offers without home sale contingencies. We're willing to take calculated risks to increase the strength of our offers, but we're not willing to compromise our financial health in doing so. “You can borrow $850,000 all day long,” Michael S. told us. “You'd probably have zero difficulties qualifying for $1 million.” We don't want to borrow a million dollars though because doing so would severely compromise our other goals. All the same, there aren't many homes on the market right now. Demand far outpaces supply, which is driving prices up and creating insanely competitive situations. It doesn't matter whether we're doing everything right. We're still going to run into folks who can make cash offers at more than $128,000 over a $649,000 asking price. Our plan? Be patient. Remain vigilant. We don't need to buy a home at the moment — and, in fact, perhaps it would be best if we didn't — but we want to be prepared to pounce if/when we find the right place. Today, I want to share a bit of our thought process as we attempt to buy a home in 2021. Where We're Starting From Currently, Kim and I are paying $2300 to rent a 1000-square-foot home in a nice, walkable neighborhood on the south side of Portland. We like it. (True story: Two days ago as I was walking the dog, a neighbor stopped me. “Is your name J.D.?” he asked. “I've been watching your YouTube videos!” The first time somebody has recognized me from my tiny YouTube channel haha.) This $2300/month rent payment is comfortable for both of us. Kim doesn't have the extensive retirement savings that I do, but she's in good shape compared to most people. She can afford $1150 per month for housing. And while she (and I) would love to have a lower housing payment, she's willing to go as high as $1200 per month. Our current housing situation leaves me swimming in money. That's the way it feels, anyhow. You see, one of the reasons I wanted to move was because I'd managed to cripple my monthly cash flow. I had too much invested in our house. I owned it outright. One-third of my net worth was locked into the home and couldn't be used for other things — such as buying food. When we owned the home on Wisteria, my monthly housing expenses were $377 for taxes and insurance. (Kim had no housing expenses. The home was mine.) Based on my non-retirement investments and savings, I had a monthly budget of $2059 to get me to age 59-1/2 (at which time I could access retirement accounts). That $2059/month budget was far below my actual spending, which averaged about $4200/month. By selling the home and moving into this rental, an amazing thing happened. Even though my monthly housing expenses jumped from $377 to $1150, my after-housing monthly budget increased from $2059 to $7588 — all because I now have a pile of cash in my bank account. This improved cash flow is 100% because we no longer have $500,000+ locked up on home equity. It's in my bank account. Yes, some of it will soon be in home equity once again (we hope) because we'll use it for a down payment on the next place. But I'll retain a sizable chunk of that to bridge the gap between today and 25 September 2028, when I turn 59-1/2. So, today I feel like I'm swimming in money. Instead of running a $2100 monthly budget deficit, I have a $3300 surplus. I am, once again, financially independent. This is our starting point. As we hunt for homes, I maintain a running spreadsheet that (among other things) tracks my projected monthly budget for each home. In fact, this monthly budget is my number-one consideration in purchasing a home. Selecting a City I am fifty-two years old. In the past thirty years, I've purchased four homes — and I'm about to buy a fifth. My homebuying habits are almost perfectly aligned with the American average. Homeowners tend to stay in one place for about seven or eight years, on average. In other ways too, my homebuying habits have been typical. If I'm not careful, for instance, I can get wrapped up in the emotional side of the process. When my ex-wife and I bought our hundred-year-old farmhouse in 2004, I was 100% motivated by emotion. There was nothing logical about the decision. When Kim and I purchased our most recent home in 2017, we allowed emotion to override logic to our detriment. This time around, I'm trying to be logical and deliberate. After four years in a house that proved problematic, and in the midst of a housing market that seems to have gone mad, I want to make a smart decision. So, my full-time “job” for the past couple of months has been house-hunting. I'm not saying that my process is perfect (nor applicable to everyone) but it's a hell of a lot more logical than any of my past home purchases. To begin with, Kim and I spent twelve full days during the last three months driving all over western Oregon and western Washington in search of a place to live. We'd frequently devote weekends to driving all over both states (with the dog in our laps), exploring small towns, and asking ourselves, “Could we live here?” We love Portland — despite what some media outlets would have you believe, it has not become a wretched hive of scum and villainy — but the place has grown too big for us. Both of us grew up in small towns. We want a slower-paced lifestyle without all of the chaos of a big city. While there are several cities that appeal to us, ultimately we've decided to move to Corvallis. Corvallis is a town of roughly 60,000 at the base of Oregon's coastal mountain range. It's an hour from the Pacific but still very much of the Willamette Valley, the agricultural region where I grew up. It's home to Oregon State University. It's the #1 biking town in the state (even ahead of Portland!) and has just enough stuff to do to keep us happy. After we decided on Corvallis, we made an effort to spend some time there. We'd pack up the dog on Saturday mornings, drive ninety minutes south, then spend a few hours exploring the city. We liked it — a lot. Even so, we were having a tough time getting a feel for the neighborhoods. Enter our real estate agent, Michael K. One day it occurred to me that maybe I could “outsource” learning Corvallis neighborhoods. Searching YouTube, I stumbled upon this video of a Realtor narrating a driving tour of the town. This helped us both so much that we contacted the narrator to ask if he'd take us on as clients. He agreed. For the past two weeks now, we've been working together to find a suitable location. Crunching the Numbers As you've probably heard, there aren't many houses for sale right now. I don't have the exact figures, but my memory tells me that the U.S. housing inventory is about half what it typically is. That means pickings are slim. And when you're searching for a place in a smaller city like Corvallis, pickings are even slimmer. Still, there are maybe a dozen new listings each week that meet our criteria. Michael K. has set us up with an automated tool that emails us when homes come on the market that matches what we're looking for. Plus, I spend hours each day on Zillow looking at the other homes that come up for sale — just in case, you know? What sort of filter are we using? Well, we've set an upper limit of $800,000 — remember that our mortgage broker told us we could borrow $850,000 “all day long” — and we're looking for places larger than 1500 square feet on at least one-tenth of an acre. Like I said, I use Zillow to find possible fits that slip through this net. Of the homes that come to market and make it through our filter, maybe half of them are places we're actually interested in: the price is acceptable, the house and yard look well-suited for our lifestyle, and so on. I put all of these matches into a spreadsheet that looks something like this : As you can see, my spreadsheet only tracks a handful of stats, but those are the stats that are most important to me. I don't track bedrooms and bathrooms, for instance, because our filter already screens for these. (Plus, I figure square footage is a reasonable proxy for beds and baths.) Here are the variables that matter most to me when hunting for a house: Price, of course. But the price isn't the only financial consideration, nor the most important. I don't want to overpay for a place, of course, but I look at the down payment (and eventual equity) as a transfer of assets. I'm not spending $300,000 if I buy a $300,000 house. I'm simply transferring money from cash to real estate. (The money lost to interest, however, is indeed an expense.) Size of the home. Again, this serves as a proxy for other things, such as the number of bedrooms and bathrooms. Lot size. Kim and I like a large yard. We recognize, however, that we're not going to find an acre of land in the middle of a city. Still, it's nice to have this number handy. Year the home was built. I want to know when a home was built for a variety of reasons. The building date can give me a rough idea of possible maintenance concerns. Plus, it's also a good guide for the style and layout of the house. I have three columns of numbers related to the monthly cost of the house. The “Each” column is most important to Kim. This shows her share of the housing payment each month. The “J.D. budget” column is most important to me. The “J.D. budget” number assumes that I'm using my savings to make a 50% down payment, then calculates what my monthly budget would be after my share of the housing payment. (Remember: this number is $7588 in our current rental and it was $2059 at our last house.) Walk Score. I like a walkable neighborhood. Walk Score isn't perfect for my situation — I don't care if I'm close to a school — but it's close enough. My main concern is that I'm within an easy walk of a grocery store. This is a huge deal to me. Walking distance to a park would be good too. Location. In which neighborhood is the house located? Notes. This is a catch-all for info like the apparent condition of the home, HOA fees, and so on. In practice, the most important item in the spreadsheet is the “J.D. budget” column. No joke: I tend to remember all of the other details about the various houses. Given my notoriously poor memory, this is something of a shock. As you can see, I've color-coded everything too. I'm using good ol' ROYGBIV, with red being the “bad” end of the spectrum and violet being the “good” end. This allows me to glance at the spreadsheet and know, say, that the Grant Circle house gives me an amazing budget but the Clarence house would put me in almost the same financial predicament as the home we just sold. (That Grant Circle house looks perfect on paper, doesn't it? It's not. It's a rental that's seen some tough love in the past.) A few other quick notes: Homes listed in bold are homes we've viewed in person. Shaded lines represent homes that are under contract, so are no longer available. And that one green line? Well, that's the home we made an offer on. Making an Offer Kim and I have viewed eleven homes now. A couple of these seemed fine in photos but were not good matches in person. Most were average. But one — the Greenwood house — was amazing. it was an almost perfect fit. (Why almost perfect? First of all, price. Second, walkability was marginal.) We toured the Greenwood house on Saturday afternoon. We loved it. As we drove around Corvallis the rest of the day, we discussed whether or not we should make an offer. “I think it's going to be out of our price range,” I said. “It's not going to sell for $649,000. You heard Michael. He called it an ‘atomic potato'. He thinks it'll go for much, much more.” “I know,” Kim said. “But don't you think we'd regret it if we didn't at least try to make an offer?” “Yes,” I said. “We'd regret it very much.” That evening, we met with Michael to go over the paperwork. Then I spent most of Sunday running the numbers through other spreadsheets. (What? You thought I had only one?!?) While I have my personal spreadsheet for tracking properties, the spreadsheet that actually matters most is the one from Michael S., our mortgage broker. This file allows us to make projections using actual numbers such as down payment, property taxes, and current interest rates. If we alter any one of the variables in the mortgage worksheet, we alter our projected financial obligations. As you can imagine, this can lead to many, many permutations of monthly payments and down payments. Generally speaking, Kim and I are planning to do the following: I will make a 50% down payment from the cash I have on hand after selling our last place. She and I will then split the monthly mortgage payment 50/50. This should work for 95% of the scenarios we're exploring. In order for us to make an offer on Greenwood, however, we had to break away from our standard plan. Our default assumptions would lead me to make a $325,000 down payment on the $649,000 list price, then my monthly budget would be $3803. But we knew that Greenwood wasn't going to sell for $649,000. It'd sell for something more. (Probably much more.) Ultimately, we figured we had to offer at least $100,000 over asking. Fortunately, the sellers were allowing escalation clauses, which meant we could offer $750,000+ without risking that we'd overbid anyone else by, say, $30,000. After much internal debate (and even some external discussion with Kim), I decided I'd be willing to buy this house if I could keep my projected budget at about $3800 per month. This is close enough to my current spending that I felt okay with it. Worst case, I'd find a part-time job to cover the gap, right? By Sunday evening, I'd come up with an offer amount: $777,7777 with a $250,000 down payment. This would give me my $3800/month budget assuming Kim was willing to pay $1200 per month toward housing (which she was). With at 50% down payment? Well, then my budget would be $900 lower each month. Still better than at the house we just sold, but less than what I want. Why a goofy number like $777,777? For fun. I'm not joking. Real-estate transactions are deadly dull affairs. I think it's fun to spice them up with numbers like this. (Plus, we thought it might send a positive signal to the sellers.) When I bought my condo on the river in 2013, I deliberately offered 4.01% over asking price because it was unit #401. The selling agent later confided that the owners had noticed the number and that it played a small but important role in their decision to sell to me. The offer we submitted on Sunday night looked like this: We offered a $677,000 starting price — $28,000 over asking. But our offer escalated in increments of $7,777 up to a top price of $777,777. We were offering to beat other offers by $7,777 up to our limit. We agreed to “no repairs”. We'd still perform an inspection, which would allow us to bow out of the deal if we found something catastrophic, but we wouldn't ask the seller to do any repairs. We included a $50,000 appraisal gap waiver. If our offer was accepted at $760,000 but the home appraised at $720,000, I would make up that $40,000 difference with my cash reserves. The next 36 hours were painful for Kim. She had become emotionally invested in the house. While I was hoping we would win the bidding war — our agent himself wrote one other offer for the house! — I was surprisingly cool and collected about the whole thing. Moving Forward Michael K. called on Tuesday morning. He didn't beat around the bush. “Your offer wasn't accepted,” he said without a preamble (which I appreciated). “I'm a little surprised. You wrote a strong offer.” Right now, we don't know how many offers Greenwood received and we don't know the amount of the winning bid. We won't know that until the place closes in a few weeks. But we're dying to know how much more we needed to offer in order to buy the place. Ultimately, however, we have no regrets. We know that we made the highest offer we possibly could. There was nothing more that we could have done without compromising our other financial goals. We're at peace with this outcome. Now, though, it's back to househunting. We've already lined up a couple of home tours for tomorrow afternoon. The places look promising — and one of them is much cheaper than the Greenwood place! I remain hopeful that we'll find a nice home in Corvallis with a walkable neighborhood, a yard for our animals, and space for Kim to do yoga and gardening. Still, a part of me knows we've only been at this for two weeks. The folks who bought our house in May had been shopping for ten months. The market is crazy right now, with far more buyers than sellers. Who knows? Maybe I'll be writing offer recaps through the winter and into next summer. But I sure hope not! Source link Read the full article

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fredandrewus · 2 years

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Tips On Selling Your House For Maximum Value

Are you looking to sell your house and maximize your selling price? You may be asking yourself the same questions that many people have when they decide to sell their home, such as: How much should I list my home for? Should I use an agent or do it on my own? What are the best ways to market my home online?

Home Selling Tips

When selling your home, you want to make sure that you are maximizing the value of your property. Here are some tips on how to do just that:

Clean Up: Make sure all the clutter in your home is gone. This will give potential buyers an idea of what they are getting themselves into, and it will also help them envision their own living space if they were to buy your home.

Repaint: A fresh coat of paint can really update and brighten up your house, making it look more appealing to potential buyers.

Fix Some Things Up: When done correctly, fixing up a few small things can add up to a lot of value in the eyes of buyers. For example, if you have water stains on the ceiling, fixing those up can really show that you care about your property and make it more attractive to potential buyers.

Get Organized: Having a well-organized home will show that you take care of your belongings and property. Potential buyers will appreciate this and may be more inclined to offer a higher price for your home if they see that you take pride in it.

Relocation vs. Home Selling

There are pros and cons to both relocating and selling your home. Here is a closer look at each:

1. Relocation Pros

-You can get a higher value for your home if you relocate.

-You may be able to save money on housing costs by moving.

-You have more control over the timing of your move, which can give you more flexibility in terms of selling your home.

-Moving can be an exciting experience, and it can help to refresh and rejuvenate you emotionally.

-Relocation may lead to new job opportunities or other opportunities that you didn't think were available when you were living in your current home.

-If you are considering a relocation, it is important to consult with an experienced real estate agent who can provide guidance about all the options available to you.

2. Relocation Cons

-You may have less time to sell your home if you relocate.

-You must factor in the cost of moving, which could amount to thousands of dollars depending on where you are moving to and how big the move is.

-It can be difficult to find quality housing once you relocate, particularly if you're looking in a new area or city.

-You may have trouble making friends or establishing social connections in a new location without having lived there for some time beforehand.

Settlement Costs

When you're ready to sell your house, it's important to know what the settlement costs will be. Settlement costs can include commissions paid to real estate agents, title insurance fees, and recording fees. You should also factor in any repairs or updates that may need to be made to your home before it can be sold. By understanding how much these costs will amount to, you can budget for them and ensure that you receive the highest possible price for your house.

Getting the Best Out of a Sale

When selling your home, there are a few things you can do to get the best price and maximize the return on your investment.

1. Make sure the house is in good condition: A well-maintained home will show more attention and be more appealing to potential buyers. Make sure all repairs are documented and up-to-date, and keep any improvements or updates in a visible spot.

2. Get creative with staging: Taking advantage of your home’s features (like an expansive backyard) can help boost its value. Try incorporating attractive furniture, rugs or art into the space to give it a fresh update.

3. Price it right: Don’t underprice your property or you may not receive any offers at all – instead, aim for a price point that reflects the market conditions and what you think is fair for your house (consider recent sales data).

4. Prepare yourself for offers: Be ready to take offers that come in – even if you don’t want to sell immediately! This will give you maximum exposure for your property and potentially drive up the final sale price.

Conclusion

Selling A Home In California can be daunting, but with the right tips and strategy, it can be incredibly rewarding experience. In this blog, we will share some of the best tips for maximizing the value of your home when selling it. We hope that our advice will help you sell your house quickly and easily so that you can move on to something more exciting in your life!

#Selling A Home In California

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tobesolonely · 3 years

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house hunting

A/n: hello!! I’ve been having a mad case of writers block, so @goldenbluesuit‘s list of prompts was posted just in time! Thank you and i hope you all enjoy!! thank u @harryysstyless and @nationalharryleague for looking this over also :) Love u guyssss!

summary: newly engaged y/n and harry realize they have very different tastes in homes when they begin house hunting!!!

warnings: smut

word count: ~3.3k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

With all the joys that came with being engaged, there was a good deal of logistics that you hadn’t even thought of when you excitedly told Harry, “Duh, of course, I’ll marry you!” just four short months ago. Should you wed in the fall or wait until the spring? Outdoors or indoors? These were things that you and Harry went back and forth about most nights, cuddled in bed next to each other before drifting off to sleep.

Something you were most excited about, though, was finally owning a home with Harry. You practically lived together as it was, seeing that you were at his place most nights. Still, his home wasn’t yours—you were reminded every time you had to grab something forgotten from your apartment. Or when he was away for work and you couldn’t bear to be in his large, empty house by yourself.

So while you already knew each other’s grossest habits, (Harry loved asking you to pop his back pimples) you didn’t yet own a home together. Sadly, house hunting was turning out to be a less-than-joyous task when you and Harry were looking for completely different things.

“I jus’ think we’re cottage-style people… that’s all,'' your fiancé’s hand rests on your thigh while you wait in his car for the real estate agent to arrive. “This one’s nice, yeah, but is it who we are?”

You refrain from rolling your eyes at him. “You’re only saying that because they remind you of home.”

“So? They’re lovely,” he sounds a little defensive, but not mad. Your response to Harry is interrupted as the real estate agent pulls into the driveway.

“Be nice,” you remind him as you open your door to let yourself out. “I understand the Craftsman isn’t your first choice, but she worked hard to find this place for us. At least go into it with an open mind.”

Your fiancé mutters something under his breath, but you know he’ll behave himself––he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Harry’s demeanor immediately changes once the real estate agent is within earshot, turning on his signature English charm. “Thank you for meeting my fiancée and me today. We’re both very excited to check out this lovely home.”

Since you’re privy to the reality of the situation, you can tell he’s laying it on a bit thick, but your agent is loving it. “You’ll both fall in love, I know it,” she begins her ascent up the long driveway and you and Harry follow behind hand-in-hand. “Six bedrooms, eleven bathrooms, and nearly twenty thousand square feet. You can’t beat it.”

Harry seems unphased by the enormous size of the house, but your breath hitches in your throat. Did the two of you actually need this much room? The house appeared to be even bigger than the one Harry owned now––you knew you would hate staying here when he was away for work except this time, you wouldn’t have a quaint apartment and a roommate to go back to when you were feeling lonely.

“H, ‘s kinda big…” you’re trying to speak quietly enough so the real estate agent doesn’t hear you. “I don’t know if I like it.”

“What’s tha’? We haven’t even gotten inside, love,” Harry stops walking to give you his full attention. “You don’t like it?”

“Just the driveway by itself is enormous,” you feel your cheeks growing warm. “I would be too scared to stay here by myself.”

Harry hums in agreement. “Can we have just a moment, please?” He sweetly turns to face the real estate agent who insists you take your time, walking farther up the driveway to give the two of you privacy.

“We’ve not seen the inside, doll. Gotta at least do that,” Harry’s hands run along your bare arms. “‘Member what you jus’ told me? Let’s go into it with an open mind. Don’t have to place an offer on it or anything.”

“Okay…” you’re reluctant and Harry can tell, but neither one of you want to be rude to the real estate agent. “You’re right. I guess it doesn’t hurt to just check it out.”

Harry gives you a dimpled grin. “Y’never know. Might fall in love with it, puppy,” Harry leans in so close that you can feel his breath on your nose. “Besides, think of all the rooms we’d get to have a shag in if we moved in here.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“I hate it.”

“What’s there to hate? Look at how cozy it is.”

“Don’t like the color.”

“It’s nothing to slap a fresh coat of paint on the outside.”

You open your mouth and then close it in defeat. He wasn’t wrong. You let Harry lead you around the perimeter of the house while you wait for your real estate agent to arrive to let you in—Harry’s animatedly talking about all the renovations that can be done to upgrade the house (even stating he could do some of them himself) and deep down you know this is the house you will end up living in.

“So sorry I’m late,” the agent’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “There was an accident on the 405–made traffic a nightmare.”

“No worries at all,” Harry says cheerily. “We’re just excited to get inside and take a look at this place. It’s gorgeous.”

The lady doesn’t even try to hide her surprise. “Really? I agree that it’s a beautiful home, but I thought it would be your last choice given it’s on the smaller side.”

“How many bedrooms?” You change the subject, gazing at the house in front of you. You thought it was rather large, but to each their own.

“Five bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms.”

You glance over at your fiancé, who appeared to be deep in thought—he was most likely calculating if five bedrooms would be enough to host friends and family who came to visit.

“That’s perfect,” he says after a moment, squeezing your hand in excitement. “We’d love to get inside.”

The real estate agent mutters a quiet, “please, follow me” to which you and Harry oblige. She leads you up a gorgeous cobblestone pathway that ends at weathered brick stairs. Harry lightly placed his hands on your waist as you ascended the three steps, knowing you tended to be on the clumsy side.

“Porch is nice, innit?” Harry says to you, lowering his gaze so he’s looking square in your eyes. “I can see us ‘avin a cup of coffee in the mornin’ while lookin’ out at the street.”

Your husband-to-be was trying to sell you on the home more than your real estate agent was––you weren’t mad at it. You simply hum in agreement, not wanting to fully give into Harry just yet.

The real estate agent unlocks the door and ushers the both of you ahead of her, wiping her feet on the mat before entering the home. It was beautiful. The floor plan was open, the living room flowing easily into the kitchen which led into the dining room. Large windows let in plenty of natural sunlight, which you know Harry appreciated.

You listen attentively as the real estate agent gives her typical spiel, informing you about the history of the house (and how all the wood fixtures were original). Harry is long gone, tucked away in some other part of the house, most likely examining the crown molding or something of the sort.

“...because the floor plan is so open, it’s the perfect space for entertaining.”

“So true,” you respond politely, looking around the space. “I was just thinking that. I’m sure Harry would agree... wherever he ran off to.”

“He’s a fan of this one, I take it?” She’s walking again, leading you to the back of the house.

“Oh, definitely. He’s been telling me we’re “cottage people” to warm me up to the idea of moving in here.”

“Is it working?”

You let out a quiet giggle. “Surprisingly, yes.”

“Babe, come look at this bedroom. S’gonna be ours!” Harry calls out to you from deeper in the house and you furrow your brows as you try to determine what room he ducked into.

“Where are you, love?”

“‘M in here!”

You roll your eyes at how Harry did nothing to clarify his exact location for you, but you quickly figure it out, anyway. While the house was large, it was nowhere as big as some places you’ve already looked at which you appreciated.

Once reunited with Harry, he immediately reaches for your hand and pulls you into him. The bedroom you’re now standing in has floor-to-ceiling windows, an adjoining bathroom, and even a fireplace. It was stunning.

“This room is nice,” you say quietly, leaning into his touch. Harry nods.

“S’our room. Can’t you just picture us sleepin’ in here? Relaxin’?” He leans in close to your ear. “Fuckin’?”

A shiver immediately runs through your body at your fiancé’s vulgarity, but you try your best to play off your reaction as you turn to face the real estate agent. “Let’s see the rest of the place, yeah?”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

No one warned you about how much work went into actually closing on a home.

It was a long process. You were glad you had Harry, who had financial advisors, to help you close on the deal. You and Harry ended up going with the cottage home, of course, which ultimately was the best choice for what the two of you needed at the moment.

Waiting to move in seemed like it took a lifetime, even though it was only a couple weeks. Your apartment was a mess of boxes and packing tape, and you were glad you had your roommate to help you gather the things you still had left there (since you had basically already moved in with Harry as it was).

When the day finally came to move all your boxes into your new home, you were more than ready to get it over with. You weren’t sure how Harry could remain in such high spirits engaging in such an arduous task (you were honestly feeling quite crabby), so you let Harry deal with the movers lest you accidentally lose your cool and snap at someone. He kept offering to help them move things, feeling guilty for just standing around while they heaved your extensive amount of belongings around, but they kept insisting they were fine. Your fiancé opted to contribute by going to the kitchen and making them lemonade and little sandwiches, instead.

“We have a lot of stuff, don’t we?” Harry glances up at you as you walk into the kitchen, a mischievous look on his face.

“What’s this we? Pretty sure they’re struggling to carry your things around, not mine,” you snake your arms around Harry’s waist. “Maybe we can have a garage sale? Get to know some neighbors too, hmm?”

“Weird to sell Gucci at a garage sale, innit?” Harry cuts a sandwich into four perfect triangles and sets them beside him on a platter he must’ve dug out of some box. You shrug.

“I’m sure you’re not the only person in this neighborhood who can afford Gucci.”

Harry hums in response, continuing to slather spread onto the sandwiches he was making. “Can you go offer these to the movers? Ask ‘em if they want lemonade or water, too.” He tilts his head toward the tray on the other side of the counter and you reach around him to grab it.

“Look at you makin’ everyone snacks and whatnot. So domestic,” you tease, grabbing Harry’s cheek and pinching firmly. “It’s getting me all hot.”

“Yeah?” He questions, going along with your playful pestering. “Y’like it?”

“Fuckin’ love it,” you coo, giving him bedroom eyes. Harry throws his head back, letting out a loud guffaw. You exit the kitchen and go from person to person, kindly offering them sandwiches which they are more than happy to accept.

The movers finish a couple of hours later, your beautiful home still just as beautiful, but now a myriad of boxes and trash bags. The two of you had absolutely no furniture yet, seeing as Harry wanted to buy everything new instead of bringing the furniture from his old home for reasons you were still unsure of.

Harry settled on making the two of you sandwiches for supper, seeing as that was the only food you had in the entire house, and neither one of you felt like running to the store to buy anything else. He pours two tall glasses of lemonade before carefully walking to where you sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room.

“Our new home...,” Harry trails off, looking around the cluttered space. “The first thing that’s ours.”

“I could cry,” you reply, voice slightly shaky. “Like, it’s just so surreal. We can really decorate however we want and celebrate holidays–”

“Gonna fight wif’ each other ‘n love on each other,” he adds. “Grow old with each other... so happy you’re all mine and ‘m all yours.”

Your heart swells at Harry’s words. He can always tell when you’re growing emotional––he knows you better than anyone else, after all––and he quickly moves closer to you, pulling you into his side. Neither one of you says anything, there’s nothing that needs to be said. You opt to bask in each other’s company and the comfortable silence that fills the dim living room. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Harry scoot the food and drinks out of the way before he pulls you fully into his lap.

“I can’t wait for all of it,” you wrap your arms around his neck, sucking lightly on the area where the skin of his jaw trails into his neck. “Can’t wait to have it all with you.”

“Know what ‘m lookin’ forward to the most?” You hum. “Lookin’ forward to the baby makin’.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at Harry’s admission. Sure, you’ve discussed children before––you were getting married! Still, he catches you off-guard.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm,” his hand slowly makes its way underneath your shirt, loving how he already had you squirming under him.

“I’ve got it,” you mumble quietly, moving away from him. You expertly unclasp your bra and fling it out of the way, letting it join the rest of the mess that litters the floor of your home.

“This is really the first place we’re gonna shag in, then?” Harry asks breathlessly, sucking roughly against your collarbone.

You shrug your shoulders before moving to tangle your hands in Harry’s hair. “The entire house is a mess, this is as good a spot as any.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he mutters, trailing his hands down your body until he gets to your bottom. He easily shimmies your tight leggings down your legs, having done this many, many times before. “Gonna help me christen every room in this house, angel?”

“Yeah,” you’re quick to respond. You wish there was more kissing and less talking going on, but your arrogant fiancé loved two things: teasing you, and the sound of his own voice. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Where do ya want that kiss?”

“Get your mind outta the gutter,” you plead, tilting your head to the side so Harry can access your neck easier. “My lips.”

You know what Harry’s going to say before he says it. “Which ones?”

“H, come on,” you whine, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. “Gimmie one.”

Harry finally gives into your requests and presses his lips delicately against yours, humming in pleasure as he feels you sink deeper into the kiss. “I’m messin’ with ya, Y/N. I could never pass on givin’ ya a kiss.”

“I’m glad,” you answer triumphantly, shamelessly stealing another kiss from him.

“Gonna go all the way with me on our living room floor? Dirty girl, you are,” Harry says quietly, gently removing you from his lap. He helps you lay back on the floor, but not before bunching up your leggings for you to use as a pillow.

“All good?”

“Mmm,” you reach up for him, wanting to feel his lips against yours once again. He doesn’t give in so easily—not this time. Harry allows you to take his plump upper lip into your mouth before pulling away just out of your reach. You let out a pitiful whimper which causes Harry to puff out his chest, his ego getting the best of him.

“Gonna make ya feel so good,” he says quietly, rubbing his palm against your core. Your underwear was still on and you knew he was approximately four seconds away from ripping them off.

“I know,” you answer quickly. “I know, H.”

“You sound impatient.”

“I just wanna get on with it.”

Harry sits back on his heels. “What’s tha’ rush? Jus’ us, yeah? Jus’ me?”

“I need it,” you say under your breath. You were usually quite vocal in bed with Harry, but something about the way his gaze fixed on you had butterflies fluttering all-around your stomach.

“What do you need?” Harry taps your bum while he’s saying this, signaling for you to lift yourself slightly off the ground so he can get them around your ankles.

“I need you in me,” you whisper. You knew he knew exactly where you needed him, but you’d stroke his ego a bit if it meant he’d fuck you just how you wanted him to. “Hard. F-fast.”

“I can manage that,” he cheekily replies, giving his hard cock three tugs before pressing himself to your entrance. “Don’t want me to eat ya out or summat?”

“No,” you answer entirely too quickly. “Please just fuck me, H-”

He understands just how needy and desperate you are now and wastes no more time, swiftly entering your tight cunt like he was made just for you. Your body always molded together so perfectly––no one knew you better than he did. When you were really pressed for time, he could get you off in less than five minutes. Although his pace is relentless tonight though, there is no rush.

You felt full in such a way that only Harry could make happen. You let out a loud moan as he moves your leg ever so slightly to angle you in such a way that he knew would hit your spongy walls deep inside of you.

“Y’like it? Like me fuckin’ into ya like this?”

“Love it,” you moan breathlessly, reaching to cradle your tits. Harry raises his eyebrows, pace faltering slightly.

“What are you bein’ so quiet for? S’no one here except us,” he reaches in between your sweaty bodies to flick your clit. “Can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me–are you gonna come, puppy? Come around my cock?”

His teasing is all it takes for you to cum around him, clenching down so tightly that it takes a surprising deal of strength for him to keep moving. Harry follows shortly behind you, letting out an animalistic groan that sounds downright filthy. In that moment, you were glad that there was no one else in the house because if there was, they definitely would’ve heard you and Harry coming down from your respective highs together. He speaks after a moment, chest still heaving.

“One room down, the rest of the house to go.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

as always, please let me know what you thought here!

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic

1K notes · View notes

pjisskullourful · 3 years

Text

⡷⠂𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 ⠐⢾

🏡Ethan × reader

NSFW🔥 sexy smutty explicit shenanigans

° Ethan Torchio & female reader insert

° “Can we play hide and seek? What if Sir tells you that he expects you to play? It’ll be very worth your while to get up from the couch and play. It’s gonna be a sexy game of hide and seek. Did I forget to mention that before?” - your boyfriend has an unorthodox idea of how to unwind after days of moving into your new home.

wordcount:: 10,283

° commission of a tasty very fun idea from @bethanysnow-- thanks for finding the house, helping me pick the music & for being patient during my cold slowing this process down[commissions get to be my prioritea aswell as so much more input]

° none of the lyrics included were written by me! ° we added a pool to the home cos duh

I'm not stopping . . . I'm going hunting . . . I'm the hunter

“We could play hide and seek in this house.”

It had been a joke, a completely nonsensical comment made without any real intent - the only thing you could think of to say as you walked around the empty 450 square-metre farmhouse. Guided around the two levels by the real estate agent, you had been in something close to a state of shock.

It hadn’t been new information that your boyfriend’s hard work was finally paying off, the success of Måneskin allowing you to move up in the world. But the revelation had far more impact standing in the villa, and seeing how completely opposite it was to the flat you had been tripping over each other in for seven months.

It was bigger than any home you had ever lived in, instantly awe-inspiring and leaving you stunned, wondering how just you and Ethan would fill the five bedrooms on offer.

“Of course we won’t.” You had quickly tried to laugh the comment off, in response to the strange look the realtor had shot in your direction. “We’re not kids…”

For some reason, Ethan had kept this remark in mind - not mentioning it until today, six weeks later, now that the home was yours to live in. You didn’t know what made him bring it up today, what could have triggered this memory as he worked through another day of unpacking belongings. When you had seen him last, he had been thoroughly preoccupied by the task of setting up his record player. The vintage turntable had its own shelving unit that it sat upon and each of these shelves would be filled with vinyl record sleeves, you had expected the task of categorising these to take him all day.

But here he was, creeping up to where you were stretched out on the couch, a book in your hands. You were taking a break from unpacking and having a cup of tea, enjoying some time to read more of Sherlock Holmes.

“Can we play hide and seek?” He asked, perched on the armrest.

You readjusted your glasses as you took a moment to consider him, trying to assess his current demeanour. He didn’t look quite as serious as usual, there was the beginnings of a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth - but what did it mean?

“Amore, you can’t possibly be this bored without the internet.” You pushed your bookmark into place, but you were unwilling to close the book just yet. “It’s only been four days.”

The phone company had no immediately available technicians to come out to set up the connection to your modem. He was without Netflix and you were without access to the Marist website, your university coursework going ignored for the time being.

“Who says I’m bored?” He asked, shrugging his shoulders in a gesture of innocence.

Mentally, you had an answer for this immediately - in the state of both of his and your own hair. Your hair was fixed into an intricate fishtail braid, something he had offered to you unprompted, hardly suspicious behaviour, but definitely out of the ordinary. He had taken the time to fix his own hair into two tight French braids and there wasn’t a single strand out of place.

“I just wanna play and have some fun with my darling.”

“You’re very cute, but I literally cannot remember the last time I played hide and seek. And, well, do you see this spot that I’ve got right here on the couch, with my tea and my book? This is far too comfortable to leave.” You said.

“I’ll make it worth your while to leave the couch.” He said with a wink.

“To play hide and seek?” You sought to clarify, with him nodding. But the genuine look of eagerness on his face was failing to win you over and you made no movements to lower your feet from the pillow they were currently resting on. “I just really wanna read my book, I’m up to a really crucial part and I’m very invested.”

He stood up. “Right, Sherlock Holmes- I’d assume all of that feels like a crucial part.” He had come closer to you, stroking your hair. “I mean, he’s the most iconic detective and all- trying to catch murderers. It’s all so very crucial, I’d say. But…”

You looked up at him, anticipating the end of his sentence. Instead, you were plunged immediately into a blurry world as he took the glasses straight off of your face.

“What if Sir tells you that he expects you to play?” He asked as you gazed up at his out-of-focus face. You didn’t need to see the expression he was wearing to know what was going on, the atmosphere in the room had entirely changed.

“It’ll be very worth your while to get up from the couch and play. It’s gonna be a sexy game of hide and seek. Did I forget to mention that before?”

You shut the hardcover book and swung your feet off of the couch. “Yeah, you left that part out.”

You could see that your black-framed glasses were dangling from his fingers - within your grasp. But you didn’t try to take them back, not without his permission, not while the air between you was filled with such heavy and intoxicating anticipation. You had faced punishments in the past when you had done things without his instruction - because when he was in dom-mode, he expected full control over you. Defiance had been penalised in the form of ice cubes stinging your bare flesh or hours spent writing out the same phrase, across many pages, vowing to be obedient to your sir.

And it was clear that he had shifted into dom-mode, the trajectory of the afternoon was now altered.

“You see, I was doing some thinking about how we have all of this space. Now we have all these different rooms and they should be used for different positio-... I mean, purposes, different purposes. No, actually, I did mean positions.” He said, beginning to chuckle as you couldn’t keep your giggles to yourself any longer.

You cleared your throat. “Sorry, I’m listening, I’m definitely listening. Please continue, Sir.”

“Yes, thank you babe.” He said, slipping into a less joking tone of voice - he still sounded light-hearted, but there was definitely a hint of authority sneaking in as he spoke. “We’ve gotta designate three neutral zones, where you can catch your breath, do a mental check-in and all that essential stuff- and that would be two rooms down here and one upstairs.

“That leaves you with twenty different zones to hide in, that includes the guest house and I’m counting the walk-in closets.” He said. “Twenty different rooms for twenty different positions or kinks. And I, of course, know which kink correlates to which zone. But you, the hider, will have no idea until I find you.

“It will be up to me to hunt you down, but you can hide literally anywhere you like. The usual safe word rules apply, one of us says the word and this whole thing is over in that very second.” He reached a gentle hand out to smooth across your hair again. “How does that sound, does that sound like a fun game to play with your sir?”

You were nodding, leaning forward eagerly. “Yes, but can I get my glasses back?”

“Of course.” He said, but he lifted the hand that was holding your glasses, moving them out of your immediate reach. Then he started to back away across the living room. “But you have to come over here and get them. Come on, you’ve gotta physically get off of the couch.”

You put the thick book aside and got to your feet, confidently stepping out, knowing that this was one of the few rooms in which there weren’t any boxes to block your path. As he came into greater focus, you held a hand out expectantly.

Instead of placing them onto your awaiting palm, he returned them to your face, carefully avoiding touching the lenses. He pushed them up the bridge of your nose before putting his mouth to yours in a sweet kiss. He held your face in both of his hands and you felt yourself blushing, simply thrilled to be held in his considerate gaze.

“I want to surprise you, but I need you to know that there’s literally no way in Hell that I’m gonna cross one of your boundaries.” He said. “It’s a game with its own rules, but your rules are always in effect.”

You smiled, the serious look in his eyes set you at ease, knowing that he was seeing straight into you and all of the feelings, all of the fears you didn’t give a voice to. After almost two years together, he knew what you liked and what you weren’t interested in. He saw all of you, honouring every part of you in a way no one ever had before. He always found a way of reminding you how safe you were.

“Is this a game you wanna play with me, my love?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You said. “Can we make the upstairs bathroom one of the safety zones?”

“The main bath? Yes, of course. And down here, I was thinking about the patio and your study.”

You were nodding along, meanwhile your competitive side was kicking in. You thought about all of the extra time you had spent in the home so far - even though the tour was over, his schedule still didn’t allow for an excess of downtime. There were parts of the home that he may not know as well as you and this could give you an advantage.

“So, what happens if you find me in a safe zone?” You asked.

“Well, so long as the game is still going, I stay put, cover my eyes and give you time to hide again.”

It was a cute mental image this brought about, making you want to giggle again. “You’re just gonna count to one hundred?”

“No, no, you can have more than a one hundred count. I’m gonna put the a-side of a record on and you have that half to set out and find a good hiding place.” He said, his demeanour changing as a different, more determined look came into his brown eyes. “And you better be ready, ‘cause in the exact second that half is over, I’ll be hunting for you, looking for you, thinking of all the things I wanna do with this gorgeous body.

“Wait here and I’m gonna go upstairs to put the record on. Then I’ll go hang out in the main bath and shut the door and just…” He shrugged, laughing a little. “I dunno, vibe to the music, whatever, it doesn’t matter. I’m just gonna…” He rolled his eyes to himself before he kissed you quickly and began to depart. “Gonna go set it up.”

You were still smiling, even after he was gone from view. You didn’t know where this burst of energy had come from, but you were enjoying it, letting it provide you with an unexpected boost. You felt grateful to be the one he chose to indulge this playful side with. He was a guarded kind of guy - selective about who he kept close and how much they got to see.

Too many people viewed him as a perpetually serious guy simply because they had never seen his cheeky side or because they didn’t understand his sense of humour. They mistook his shy demeanour as either arrogance or a complete lack of substance, not taking into account the time needed to warm up to a stranger.

This had never been an issue for you. Somehow, without even trying, you had been able to make him feel comfortable. The connection had been immediate and you were treated to his jokes, getting to hear all of his shady comments. And when he wanted to play (to let his hair down and be less of an ‘old soul’), you were the person he wanted to play with.

You didn’t take this invitation for granted, it filled your stomach with a lovely warmth. It was almost enough to compare to an embrace in those strong arms.

It was almost enough to distract you from hiding and making this game a challenge for him. But not quite.

You were already walking around the ground floor, getting something of a plan together, by the time the music began. He had turned the volume up and the opening notes, played delicately on a piano, had an immediate effect on you. It was familiar, just as the tingle it shot down your spine was familiar.

‘I’ve posed for pictures with Iv’ry Soap…’ Eartha Kitt’s seductive voice drawled.

“Happy hiding.” He called over the slow, innocent-sounding beginning of this jazz classic.

You licked your lips, eyes darting around the rooms, doors and corners as you passed them, your sock-covered feet completely silent on the wooden floorboards.

You had never heard this album before he had brought it to your attention (a gift given on your first Christmas together, after finding out Santa Baby was your favourite Christmas song above all others, he thought you might like to hear more of Eartha Kitt’s music and he had been correct). But now you knew That Bad Eartha inside out, allowing you to figure out just how much time was allowed to you before he would start seeking. You had a little under twenty minutes before side-a wrapped, with My Heart Belongs to Daddy.

‘Just to see my partner’s face…’ Eartha sang out as you passed through the kitchen. ‘I wanna be nasty, I wanna be cruel.’

Your eyes drifted out the window, through the native trees that populated the backyard and there you saw the free-standing guesthouse, which would eventually be converted into a studio space for Ethan. Hiding in there felt like too obvious of a choice - to leave the house, the simplicity of that thought process made it a losing move.

‘I wanna be evil, little evil me.’ Eartha teased. ‘Just as mean and evil as I can be.’

He had offered the closets as places to hide, but you didn’t even reach for the doorknob as you passed, instead heading for the bottom of the staircase. You moved cautiously up the steps, taking in the expansive, open living area.

You headed through the glass doors into the hallway, where you saw a series of open doors - save for one, the bathroom he was waiting in. Which rooms would be too close for him to hear you moving around?

You were looking all around yourself, doing mental assessments of each room. But this didn’t include surveying the floor, taking for granted that there wouldn’t be anything to block your path.

Your big toe connected with a box, sending a jolt through your nervous system. Labelled bathroom misc, it was luckily not a heavy box, instead it was half-emptied - containing a rainbow of different coloured bath bombs, an old hairdryer and some other items that hadn’t fit into the master ensuite. You gasped from the surprise, more so than any significant pain.

You clapped a hand over your mouth, freezing for a moment. Your wide eyes looked to your right and you were standing directly in front of the bathroom door. You awaited him opening the door as you tried to catch your breath.

But it seemed that Eartha and her band had your back, loud enough that he didn’t hear your collision. Almost getting caught got your adrenaline pumping and you started walking faster this time.

You headed for one of the spare bedrooms, now making sure to check the floor just as much as you were checking over your shoulder. You were making your way to the larger of the two upstairs guestrooms.

You were smiling to yourself as you envisioned what might be the winning hiding spot. And you felt your heart pounding harder as you considered what he might want to act out in this room. Within these four walls - what kind of kinks would he be inspired to indulge in, which of your favourite techniques would he use to make your toes curl?

You made sure to not bump into the door - he was the master of being detail-oriented, picking up on the little aspects that could be so easily overlooked by everyone else. You couldn’t risk the door standing even an inch closer to the wall because he would probably notice, any slight changes could get his attention.

You went across the room to the corner beside a tallboy. This room hadn’t been properly organised yet and there were a couple of towers of boxes stacked up alongside the large dresser. Some were labelled as Christmas decorations, others said winter coats. The miscellaneous pile wasn’t pressed flush to the wall and, looking over the top, you felt confident that you could fit in that space.

You plucked the smallest box from the top of the pile and stretched your leg out over the boxes. You planted your foot into the corner and shifted your weight, moving across the boxes. You returned the box to its place and shimmied yourself down, dipping lower than the cardboard boxes. You grabbed a coat from an open box and settled down on your butt.

‘I know you’re perfectly swell- that my heart belongs to Daddy…’ It was the last song of side-a and you threw the coat over your head, hoping to mask yourself as a spilled pile of clothing. ‘’Cause my Daddy, he treats it so well- so well.’

The string section built to an exciting flourish, then the first half of the record was over. You licked your lips, feeling your breath becoming shallow in your chest.

“Ready or not.” You heard Ethan shout out, before he raised his voice louder, clearly assuming you weren’t the next room over. “Ready or not, here I come babe.”

You focused on keeping your breathing as quiet as possible as you listened for any hint of his movements. You could feel your heart fluttering already, just at the thought of him finding you and taking you. You knew that it would be spectacular, no matter how he decided to have you.

There was the temptation to simply shrug the whole game off - to give in to your impatience and jump him. But you didn’t, you resisted. Because, after two years, you knew that the best fucks came when your boyfriend was forced to wait.

When the passion had been pent-up - time away from one another, like his time on tour, gave him time to plan, yearn and crave. The welcome home sex always delivered the most Earth-shattering orgasms.

You let yourself long for his touch, you let that longing sit at the back of your throat. But you didn’t let it push you into any kind of action.

“Oh, where could my babygirl be?” He asked aloud and you grinned to yourself, taking note that his voice was further away now.

His voice was even further the next time he spoke and you estimated that he was over by the stairs. “If I go down here and you’re back on the couch, reading that book… you’ll be in for such a spanking.”

He continued to provide a running commentary, but once he was downstairs, he was too muffled for you to hear what he was saying.

In the silent house, you immediately heard the thick lock on the backdoor turn in its fixture. Hesitantly, you removed the coat from your head and lifted yourself up. Your heart was pounding, the blood pumping loudly in your ears as you started to move from out of this spot. You crept over to the close-by window, stooping and keeping your knees bent, looking out the window, but not wanting to be spotted by him.

Looking out over the backyard, he was easy to see in his white tank top. One hand was raised to shield his eyes from the afternoon sun as he walked away from the house. You watched as he walked alongside the pool, which he had noted to you was to be where he would teach your future kids to swim.

He was stepping into the guesthouse and you made up your mind, it was time to move. He had already done a check of this floor and so the obvious places to hide didn’t carry the same disadvantage. He wouldn’t straight away be looking to retrace his steps.

You saw that he was still in the guesthouse and you spun away from the window, rushing for the door. You darted across the hallway, heading for the master bedroom.

Inelegantly, you dropped yourself to the floor beside your bed and began to tug yourself in, under the bed. Your insecurities had wanted you to doubt that this limited space would be able to accommodate your body, but you could fit.

Lying on your chest, it wasn’t comfortable. You pulled all of your limbs into the shadows beneath the bed, awkwardly bending in a way that would surely strain your muscles if held for too long.

You heard his footsteps as he jogged up the staircase. The anticipation was building again, making you squirm.

“I wonder where you are, my darling.” He said and you felt your breathing catch in your throat from how close he was. He had come into the master suite, his voice beginning to echo on the tiles in the ensuite. “Oh my, what if you were in here? That’s a shame, really a shame that you aren’t in here, ‘cause I was planning on edging you in this room. And I know how much you just love being edged.”

You rolled your eyes, mentally disagreeing with this teasing. He had the energy to edge you for hours, able to bring you as close as possible before switching it off and going to smoke a cigarette while you stewed in tension. You loved the intense attention, but you’d rather be climaxing than being forced into patience.

You made a note to avoid the ensuite after this. Looking towards the doorway, you saw his feet and the cuffs of his blue jeans come into view. He hesitated, seemingly trying to decide if it was worth coming into the master bedroom for a proper search.

Instead of crossing this threshold, he turned in the opposite direction. You watched him walk away and you released the breath you had been holding. He walked down the hallway, going out of sight before he started speaking again.

“Are you not in this room either?” He asked. “Maybe behind these boxes. No?” You heard him shuffling around in the guestroom you had been hiding in. “Well, this is- no, this time is a definite shame ‘cause there’s so much room in here, enough room for me to just lay out on my back and have you sit on my face for a while. Too bad…”

You regretted your decision to switch rooms, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration. You lost track of where he was as your thoughts got stuck on what could have been happening to you at present.

You felt a pressure building in your cunt and you lamented missing out on a round of cunnilingus. You felt how tight your yoga pants were on your body and all you wanted was release.

As you ached with unresolved desires, you gathered together your feeble hopes that there was still a chance of having his mouth on your pussy before the day was out. He could still have 69 allocated to a room.

You were practically itching as you considered what might still be on the table (potentially, he planned to screw you on the table). Your mind was racing and it was almost too much to bear while you were trying to hold yourself still.

It was a miracle that he had managed to scale his libido down to only twenty ideas. What had been cut - were there any of your favourites that he planned to indulge you in? Or was he only fixed upon his own favourites?

The not-knowing was threatening your composure and you felt a tremor run down your leg. You started to push yourself out from under the bed, that space now entirely too small for you and your increasing excitement.

You slowly got to your feet, not hearing any movements from him. You assumed that he had left this floor of the house - you didn’t hear his voice, nor did you see him in the hall beyond the bedroom.

You didn’t have any clear tactics in mind any longer, you were too frazzled to care about being competitive. You were getting by second-to-second, so distracted by your impulses, dumbed down and acting without thorough planning.

Then you heard his voice, followed by the creak of one of the doors to the balcony being pulled shut. He was still on the same floor as you and you were standing out in the open - you felt as visible as if someone had just pointed a spotlight at you. Panic swelled up within you and you rushed to do something, anything.

You didn’t know how much time you had, but you didn’t favour your chances of being able to quickly hide under the bed again. You settled for the walk-in wardrobe and booked it across the room to the mirrored doors.

Between your own panting and the doors audibly sliding in their tracks, you instantly counted yourself out. You regretted this decision immensely as you stepped into the small space.

This was another section of the house that hadn’t been fully unpacked yet and you had to carefully fit your feet between boxes of shoes. It was a disorganised and cluttered space that wouldn’t allow you to sit down - at the very least, you would be lucky to find a way to stand upright and balanced.

You didn’t have a clear view of the doorway leading into the bedroom. But with the absence of his voice, you had to assume he was elsewhere and it was therefore worth continuing to try to hide.

You held your breath, and potentially your heart had stopped beating, as you carefully slid the doors shut, preparing to seal yourself into absolute darkness. Your perception of your surroundings was so lacking that you didn’t notice the overhead shelf, until the back of your head whacked into it.

Unlike with the box of bath bombs - this collision gave you pain, a sharp sting that seemed to demand a response of swearing. But you didn’t, you kept your mouth clamped shut, even as the pain reached across the crown of your head. It wanted your attention, radiating out well beyond the point of contact.

You were attempting to recover from this distraction, starting to slide the door shut, when something else hit you on the head. This was slight, a soft tap to the top of your head, which would have gone unnoticed if not for your current state, wherein you were feeling your senses incredibly heightened.

You saw the large stuffed rabbit toy tumbling down, handing you a small bit of mercy by landing amongst the other shadows in the closet. Gritting your teeth, you proceeded with working the door shut, gradually, doing everything in your power to not make any attention-grabbing sounds.

“You weren’t hiding behind any couches…”

You released your shaking hands from the door, he was now dangerously close and you didn’t have the wardrobe doors shut all the way. He may not have been in the bedroom yet, but you didn’t let yourself get too complacent. You couldn’t improve this situation, all that you could do was work with what you had.

“You weren’t under them either, but I wonder if you might be under something in here…”

He was in the bedroom, his proximity making you shrink back against the furthest wall. You had one box between your feet, keeping your legs spread to an uncomfortable degree.

“Like under the bed…” You could hear his footsteps, along with the pounding of your heart as it launched itself up and into your throat. “No. I would have liked to find you in this room, babe. I was planning on this being the room of multiple orgasms. And I do mean, multiple.” You placed a hand over your mouth, your nerves making you feel the tickle of a giggle at the back of your throat. “I figured that was the best way to christen this room, don’t you think? That’d be the perfect tone to set for where I plan on spending every night cuddled up with the love of my life. Ah well, that can wait for another day…”

His voice got slightly further away and you pictured him strolling back out of the master suite. But you didn’t let your guard down as you listened to his thoughtful self-talk. “I wonder how much longer you can hide, did I underestimate how big this house is? Maybe I did, I guess it still hasn’t properly sunk in yet.” He was walking slowly, probably searching as he made his way down the hall.

“How much more can you take? How much longer can you stand this waiting, my love?” He asked of you, while you remained trembling in your dark cave. “Isn’t it getting to you yet? How long until it gets to the point when it starts to ache? And I know that you know what I’m talking about…”

He was speaking so intimately that it made you feel the physical distance between you had shrunk. It was all too easy to imagine him saying all of this directly into your ear and it got you feeling the ache even more. Because you knew exactly what he was talking about. You knew the ache, you knew it to be presently residing in your body and you knew that he was the only one who could relieve it. You couldn’t tell if it was sweat collected during all of this activity, or if the damp quality of your underwear was a mark of your arousal - this very unorthodox method of foreplay working you over.

“That ache that makes your voice break as you beg me. God, babygirl you sound so amazing when you beg and I would-...” He sighed, sounded exasperated. “I really wanted to find you in here, I was really, really enjoying the idea of filling this room up with your begs.”

You heard what sounded like another sigh, but this one seemed to be coming from directly above you. Your first reaction was to look up and in the dim lighting, you spotted a cardboard box easing its way to the edge of the shelf. Sliding at an angle, it appeared to have been knocked from its perch atop another box. You stuck your hand out, pressing against the side of the box before that careless stacking decision could ruin your security.

You felt the box stop and whispered out a tiny exhale of relief. You weren’t certain that you could hold this position for very long, but it would do for the moment as you tried to tune back into where he was.

“Oh, where could you-”

A sudden crashing sound frightened you half to death, the wardrobe doors rattling from the impact. Completely unseen by you, a heavy object had fallen free of that rogue box. You bit into your bottom lip, hard enough to bring pain as you were unwilling to swear and admit defeat just yet.

The rest of the house was silent and you knew that wasn’t a good sign. It seemed inevitable that you were about to be faced with your boyfriend - the only mystery was in wondering which side of him you were going to get. Would he make you earn your pleasure, or was he going to be the appreciative, sweet and happy to serve Ethan that you were constantly falling in love with anew?

You saw the door sliding open and you couldn’t contain a squeak, your knees were shaking. He was standing there and he looked stronger than you had remembered as he bent down to collect the fallen item from the ground.

“Oh, that’s where we put the toys. I couldn’t remember where I’d seen them last…” He said, the vibrator wand in his hand.

You felt your chest expanding as he looked at you, it felt like you were filled with caged heat that was on the verge of being unleashed. You smiled at him, feeling ready to fall into his arms.

“Hi, amore…”

He offered a hand to you. “How perfect that you found the toys and then I found you here, because what I have planned for this zone could benefit from one specific toy of ours… what’s goin’ on here with your arm?”

“The box is trying to fall down. That’s what gave me away, I wasn’t just in here throwing vibrators around.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” He said under his breath. “Here, allow me.”

With some adjustments, he reached up to grab the box. As he did so, you couldn’t help but notice the heat from his body, instantly enticed. “Do I have to stay in here, Sir?”

“No, no, no more hiding in the closet for my darling.” He said, carrying the box with him as he stepped away from the wardrobe. “I hope you’re in the mood for a spanking…” He rested the box on top of the bed and began to look through the sex toys it contained. “Because I had decided this was the place to spank you.”

You giggled a little. “What, you really think there would be enough room for that in the wardrobe? Not the way you spank, Mr Backhand.”

He had produced a leather paddle from amongst the other sexy accessories, twirling it in his hand as he turned to face you. “No, against the wardrobe.” He licked his lips and you could feel how much warmth currently filled your cheeks. “Now, turn around and put your hands up on those mirrors.”

You turned to face the mirrored doors and slid them shut, the location of your defeat now out of sight. You raised your hands up higher than your head and placed your palms to the doors.

You didn’t check your reflection, instead looking over your twin’s shoulder at Ethan. With the sun rapidly setting, there wasn’t much light touching his handsome face, betraying next to nothing of his inner-thoughts. This mystery only added to your excitement as you watched him coming closer.

He approached and as much as you wanted to, you kept yourself from turning around to grab him. You let the deep hunger within you translate into obedience, knowing that he would take care of you.

His first touch was to your hair, picking up your plait and slowly wrapping it around his hand. Your bottom lip trembled as you felt him move in, finally giving you that skin-on-skin contact you had been starving for. He used the plait as a means of control, guiding your head to turn to look at him. You saw his lips were parted and your eyes fluttered shut as you prepared yourself for a kiss.

Instead the next thing that you felt was a quick pain as the paddle connected with your ass. An audible gasp left your mouth, followed by a nervous giggle as you tried to recover from this surprise. He kept the paddle on your ass cheek, holding it there and pressing it into your squishy flesh, not letting you forget its threat.

He sighed heavily. “I love your sounds, they’re so sexy, so sweet.” He tapped the paddle against your ass, a series of appreciative pats rather than a spank to take your breath away. “And I feel like I’ve been waiting for, it feels like a full day, not just an hour or so.” He put a bit more force into how he was bouncing the paddle and you could feel the tension in your pussy increasing accordingly. “And now that I’ve got them, I’m gonna enjoy them, oh so much. I might play around and see just how many glorious sounds that I can get out of my love.”

He took the paddle off of you, pulling it back and away from your body. Then he swung it forward, it clapped upon your skin. An impact so powerful that you flinched.

But you silently asked for more - arching your back and wiggling your rear, trying to entice him with your eagerness. And he responded by giving you more spanks, unleashing upon your other cheek.

“S-sir?” You couldn’t raise your voice above a breathless whisper.

“Yes?”

“Should I be counting my spanks?”

You hissed in response to the pain that came from him pulling on your hair. Your head was forced back, your face pointed to the roof as he growled his instructions at you. “You will speak clearly when you’re addressing me. Now- repeat yourself.”

“Does Sir want me to count the spanks as I’m receiving them?” You asked.

“Good girl.” He said, releasing your hair. “No darling, you don’t have to count them, you just stand there and enjoy them. Or, at least, take them all so that I can enjoy it. ‘Cause that’s what you want, right- you want me to have a good time, don’t you?”

“Yessir.” You said and you were ready to elaborate, but then you felt him kiss your cheek - you just smiled, because you knew this meant he was satisfied.

He gave each side of your ass a few playful taps, then hesitated. “I’m gonna need these tights out of my way. I wanna watch this gorgeous ass getting redder and redder as I make it mine.”

You didn’t require any further guidance - you were quite relieved to free your skin from the clinging fabric. You tugged at the waistband, working the pants down until you could step out of them. You started to kick them away, replacing one of your hands onto the door.

Before you could brace yourself with both palms on the mirror - he hit the paddle into you and you almost buckled. You stumbled forward, your body bouncing off of the door as your balance was ripped from you. The pain was so much more than before, this very quick increase in intensity took your breath away, it made you shake harder.

He gave you time to somewhat recover - not enough to work yourself down, just enough to allow you to resume your earlier position. You watched the reflection of his figure as he silently assessed you.

He tested at your strength, beginning with those painless taps again. When you held your own, he placed the paddle between your legs. You followed this tapping on your inner thigh and moved your feet further apart, all the while ensuring you kept your back arched.

Your underwear didn’t cover all of your butt and you were feeling the paddle on your bare skin as he struck you repeatedly. It was a sharp sting on your skin as the rhythmic clap clap clap filled the room, blocking out your perception of anything else.

You could hear his breathing growing more laboured as he kept up the effort, showing you absolutely no mercy. The power in his every movement had you feeling the tension in every part of your body, squirming more as the desperate need for him became too great to resist.

You curled your hands into fists, squeezing your eyes shut as you took each spank that was delivered to you. All of it was bringing your attention to your pussy and the swollen, sticky mess it had become as it awaited his touch.

Each hit from the paddle hurt more than the last and you were certain that, upon inspection, the skin must be bright pink by now. When would it be enough for him? You were already doubting your ability to sit comfortably for the next twenty-four hours.

It was a concern that you were thinking about less-and-less. With each hit, you were less worried of comfort - all of your thoughts redirecting to savour how he had your whole body aching. That feeling of being starved rose-up again and you were dazzled by the far-reaching sensitivities, becoming more in touch with the different areas that he was activating.

You were being locked into this moment, the pause between spanks shrinking and less time for recovery meant less time for your thoughts to wander. You were so solely concentrated on him that you didn’t care about anything else.

You had stopped caring about holding back, your responses to his hits getting louder. You had lost your inhibitions in favour of letting him know just how crazy he was driving you - through your moans and whimpers.

“Wow, angel.” He admired, sounding a bit breathless as he halted his energetic pacing. But you were still feeling the paddle as he ran the smooth surface all over your ass and the backs of your thighs. “It sounds like you’re pretty happy with the zone I found you in, hm?”

Even in the absence of active spanking, you couldn’t fully relax. You kept your eyes shut as you nodded jerkily. “Yessir.”

“I would say that I’m pretty happy with it as well, but that would be selling the whole thing short.” His hands touched your skin next, pushing under the hem of your t-shirt before exploring lower, over the generous swell of your hips. “If you know what I mean by-” You both gasped, almost in unison when his hand moved over the front of your underwear, pushing along the curve to where the majority of your wet anticipation was ready to be discovered. “Oh, I think you do know what I mean. God, this is really wet and this is just from the spanking, ‘cause I just realised that I haven’t yet told you what I’ve got planned for after.”

You slowly turned your head, blinking at him as he stood so close, almost embracing you. “After?”

“Yes.” He said simply and you could see that he had begun to smirk. “Did you really think it was just gonna be a spanking? Oh no, my angel gets so much more than some spanks. This is just where I wanted to start.” He kissed your cheek. “Now, if you’re feeling up to it, I would love to have you get down on the ground- on all fours, like the good girl I know you can be.”

He stepped back, allowing you the necessary space to move. You turned to put your back to the wardrobe, taking a few steps away, but stopped short before coming too close to the bed. As you lowered yourself down, you couldn't help but make eye-contact with his crotch, where you could see his jeans straining against his building erection. He didn’t say anything that suggested he was bothered by your gaze and, likewise, you kept your thoughts to yourself as your knees reached the floorboards.

You reached your hands out, leaning forward. You licked your lips as you braced yourself in this new position. He lightly tapped the paddle on your butt before walking a slow circle around your body, reminding you of a hunter with his prey.

“Keep that pretty ass up, darling. I said there was more to come after the spanking, but I don’t recall saying I was done spanking you.”

You shifted how you were holding yourself, pushing your butt up and waiting. You whined when you felt him slap the paddle down with that returned purpose. Your skin already felt red, but it seemed like he was far from losing energy. You were flinching from the gentle pats that followed the blow.

“One moment, babygirl.”

Your breath left you in ragged gasps and your head slumped forward. You heard a draw open, then you heard the crackle of a foil wrapper, which was followed by a zipper purring open. You had heard this sequence of noises before and it had you ready to shout out your relief.

Instead, your next sound was to cry out as you were startled by another spank to your ass. You grit your teeth as he unleashed upon you again-and-again-and-again.

You were grateful that he had not insisted on you keeping count, as was typically your responsibility when you were receiving your punishment in the form of spanking. That task felt beyond your current capabilities, your concentration remaining fixed on addition wasn’t a guarantee. Right now, all you could concentrate on was the desperate heat between your thighs that kept your panties slicked to your pussy.

You felt the heat from his body at the back of your legs as he settled to kneel on the ground behind you. He didn’t immediately return the paddle to your skin and you didn’t have the strength to look back, to take a visual assessment of him.

“Is it red enough for you yet?” You asked.

The first part of his response came in the action of his bare hand slapping against your ass, before he spoke to the contrary. “Yes, so red, so hot, so raw, so swollen, so delicious that I wanna just…”

He placed one of his knees between yours and rocked forward, letting you feel his naked body grinding into yours. You pushed back, feeling his latex-covered dick wanting to find a home in your quivering hole.

He put a hand to your hip, caressing you here. But you wondered about the other hand - you envisioned he could be holding the paddle right at this second, ready to smack you around some more. The safe word sat bubbling on your lips so that you could tell him that you simply couldn’t take anymore. Not because you wouldn’t enjoy it, quite the opposite and it would be embarrassing to say - embarrassing to admit how worked up you were over a spanking. In response to each and every hit, you had been clenching, your walls absorbing this excitement, ready to drip all the more. It had you worried that, one slap at a time, he would send you past anticipation, until you were ready to come, dissolving before he could properly penetrate you, his release left behind, an afterthought to your own glorious climax.

It was a relief when you felt him hook each of his index fingers into the waistband of your briefs. You couldn’t help but let out a happy sigh - the spanking was done with and now he was finally going to make use of how wet he had made you.

Your sigh was quickly transformed into a moan when you felt his head working along your slit. He didn’t care to remove your panties, the garment stuck above your knees.

It was enough for him to just have access to your pussy, wetting himself with what had already collected there. You were stunned by how these careful movements were turning your sensitivities into one harmonised surge of pleasure. It was a wave that was poised to take over you.

You felt your elbows shaking, your strength ready to leave you as he lined himself up, tip seeking your entrance. One hand at your hip, the other caressing the small of your back, he was the only thing keeping you from going totally limp. Giving you guidance through the hectic swell of adrenaline, your body followed the motion of his until you were feeling the stretch of his penetration.

You felt his cock twitching within you as you eased back, swallowing more of his length in your swollen pussy. You heard him give a shaky moan from his position behind you.

His hips responded, stuttering into you until you could no longer depend on your arms to keep you upright. You slumped, folding your arms onto the ground before you and bringing your head down to rest here, all of the tension held in the lower half of your body.

You bit into your lip, barely containing your whines as he started into a slow and thorough rhythm - each time coming in deeper. You huffed as your instincts told you to keep going, kept you rolling back into him because you knew it would be worth it.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, almost like the safety bar of a rollercoaster. You felt his power shared into your own body and the two of you started to move together - finding the necessary unison without a single word exchanged.

For this perfect moment, he was filling you exactly as you had been needing. You couldn’t properly express how ecstatic this made you, the thrilling sparks that filled you rendering you close to speechless. The praises that left your mouth were consistently a syllable or two too short to be actual words, it was all a frantic mess in your head.

He didn’t badger you for any kind of clarification, groaning out his own inarticulate delight. The both of you had been reduced to a primal need - that exhaustive build-up had managed to block everything else out, with your bodies speaking for all of the words that failed.

Because this adrenalised exchange wasn’t about eloquent sentences - it was to receive one another’s bodies, to receive the passion that could only be unlocked by this union.

You ignored the stinging on your ass cheeks that came with each of his thrusts against you. You refused to let it slow you down, refusing to take any extra time to recover - not while you were already dazzled by the incredible sensations flooding you. You bounced upon him, letting the intensity build to that point where you were stunned and ultimately broken.

The way he was gasping told you that the shockwaves were overtaking him, the earlier grace gone from his movements. He was working himself into you at a reckless pace that was set on quick release, unbothered with trying to maintain this for an extended duration.

“Oh yes, babe. Yes, nrgh, yes.” He exalted, these words becoming like a chant, which was soon matched by his jerks, keeping his hips in constant motion. “Yes, oh yes. Uh, fu- uck…”

The reactions that he was having to your body was giving you a feeling of pride blooming in your gut - but that wasn’t the only thing blooming and you had begun to clench his dick. The anticipation of your climax took you higher, brought you to the next level.

The incredible and desperate power that he had was flooring you, with the way that your muscles were tensing allowing you to feel even more. Your most sensitive places subjected to this relentless massage. Along the top of your tight hole, his strokes had you feeling deep, radiating waves of pleasure. He had found where you were most tender, treating these areas to the most spectacular stimulation.

You were so wonderfully filled with all of his lust and it was too big to be ignored. The only thing that could be bigger was your orgasm, which was definitely getting closer.

“Oh, ah, ah God.” You gasped, getting lost to your tremors, your body moving erratically.

You were seeing stars all through your vision as he whimpered into a frantic, breathless pace that served to take him over the edge. He settled his body weight back, not needing to do anything else, his orgasm was pulled out of him in its entirety by the quivering of your tense pussy walls.

A moan came from deep in your throat when he swung forward again, not leaving you abandoned, he was going to solve all of the sensitivities he had awoken. Your mouth hung open, shocked as you were to find there was still stamina in your trembling body.

And he was there to guide you through - every buck from you was rewarded with a rock from him, until your toes were curling. He was moving slower than before, but you remained at the same height, taking greater notice of his length and how it glided so wonderfully into your centre of pleasure.

“Oh, ah, ah-huh, uh-huh, mm.” You were getting so much louder, without a single concern over whether or not you could lose your voice. For the first time in your life, you didn’t have to worry about neighbours being close enough to hear and you let loose. “Ah, oh God, Ethan. Oh baby, babe- ah, fuck me.”

You felt the dam beginning to burst, hearing his groans of effort as the tension started to release. You worked yourself back along his shaft some more, until his tip against your sweet spot sealed your fate.

Crying out, you collapsed forward onto the ground, convulsing through the spectacular waves of your orgasm. “Ah, uh, God, fuck. Ah… uh-huh. Huh.” You shuddered, struggling to lift your head and wiping a hand over your eyes. “Huh, hah- ho, ho my God.”

He sat back, loudly trying to catch his breath as he caressed down your back. Your bodies separated, moving through your individual aftershocks. “Are you oh-” He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Are you okay, angel?”

“Yeah.” You rolled onto your side, too exhausted to get up onto the bed. Instead finding a way to get comfortable as you continued to twitch. “Yeah, oh… I love you.”

“I love you.” He swooped down to pepper kisses upon your lips. “Come ‘ere, come ‘ere, oh come here.” He pushed your hair away from your sweaty brow. “Are you okay? I’m gonna get you some water and the cream for your ass.”

You started to laugh, this thought process you were tumbling into was tickling you more than you knew it usually would. In your current state - it was so fucking funny that there wasn’t any chance of not laughing. The adrenaline release was comparable to being drunk. “Don’t say- don’t say that you’re gonna get cream on my ass.” You were laughing louder and he paused from standing up, tilting his head as he considered you with a confused gaze. “Not after we just, literally just got done doing doggy.”

He rolled his eyes, starting to get up again. “You are just so…” He was already pulling his pants up. “Ridicola. Don’t get cheeky with me, or you’ll get some half-ass aftercare, no tea for you.”

You put a hand over your mouth, trying to put an end to your giggling. “Sorry, Sir.”

“Go, get into the bed.” He said. “I’ll get the cream and some clean clothes for you.”

He left the room and you slowly made the movements to get up from the floor. You felt exhausted now that the adrenaline was worn off, but you were comforted in knowing there was nothing left for you to do. Your energy had been well spent and you were satisfied beyond question, any curiosity of what other positions had been allocated to untouched rooms was melting away. You were unfazed by what you had missed out on, not worried to skip over things he had mentioned. All of your sensitivities had been used up and you were forgetting what he had threatened you with during the search.

You headed over to the bed, stepping out of your ruined panties along the way. There was nothing to keep you from collapsing onto the mattress, stretching your limbs out and feeling as your trembling started to die down. Things were starting to return to normal - the sun was down and you could let this day go.

You had rolled over, lying mostly on your stomach, when he returned to the room. You lifted your head from the pillow, turning to look his way at the scent of hot tea. You smiled through the feeling of swollen lips. “You did make tea.”

“Of course I did.” He said simply as he carefully set the mug down on your bedside table. “You know that I never mean any of that rude shit I say when we’re playing around. I love you, you’re my baby.”

“I love you too.”

He let you briefly squeeze his hand before he moved away, to the mirrored doors of the wardrobe. From within, he pulled out a dry pair of underwear and an oversized tee. These were placed over his shoulder as he momentarily left for the ensuite. You heard him looking through the draws in there before he returned. He placed the tub of soothing balm next to your cup of tea as he sat down, looking you over with that trademark seriousness back on his face.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, offering both hands to help you sit up.

You moved cautiously, doing your best to avoid placing too much pressure on your ass as you did so. “No, just tender.”

“Are you sure?” He helped you to remove your shirt, trading it for the clean option. His hands didn’t linger on your skin - but his eyes lingered, assessing your current state. “You’re okay?”

“Mm-hmm, I’ll be fine.” You said, pulling on this fresh pair of panties. “Just don’t ask me to do anything beyond drinking my tea.”

“No, no, of course not. You lay down and I’ll take care of your pretty, sore ass.” He said. “Let me grab my laptop so I can put something on for us to watch as we’re unwinding.”

You paused from lying down. “Watch what? We don’t have any internet, amore.”

“Right, right, I definitely didn’t forget.” He said, nodding. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of something.”

He left the room and you began to take careful sips of your tea.

Your warm drink was halfway gone by the time he returned, wearing a triumphant grin. Your heart lifted at the sight of him, seeing this softer side of him made you feel instantly more awake - perking you up in a way the caffeinated tea couldn’t achieve. Temporarily, you forgot about the stinging on your butt, just readjusting so that you could see him better.

“I found, I found- look at what I found for us to watch.” He planted the laptop onto the bed covers in front of you as he proudly brandished a DVD cover. “Tom got this for us for Christmas, but then in the hoopla of moving we never finished watching the end of the second season.”

You considered the bright and colourful case with great scepticism. “Luxury Comedy, are you…? Noel Fielding at his most completely unhinged, vomiting psychedelic rainbows and twisting my mind into a pretzel- you bring this to help me come back to Earth?” He was shaking his head a little as he leant across you, opening the laptop and going through the regular keystrokes. “Are you freakin’ kidding me here, Edgar?”

He tutted under his breath, a good-natured smile on his face. “Don’t be a brat now. You’re gonna laugh, you know you will and that’s gonna relax you.” He clicked the disc out of its case. “You know I’m right.”

You rolled your eyes. “You get so damn cocky after you make me come.”

He was grinning when he turned back to you. “I know. Roll onto your tummy for me.” You had another mouthful of tea before lying down, mostly on your front. “Let me know if I press too hard with the cream, okay.”

“Of course, honey.” You felt the pressure from his hand, gently massaging in the arnica cream. This brought back the feeling of blood rushing to the area, but slowly and gradually, delivering no great surprises. “It’s been so long since we… it’s hard to remember where we were up to.”

‘We got Kiss on the show- the American rock band…’ A very eager Noel said to the camera, making both you and Ethan pause.

“Oh. Well, I’d remember if we’d seen this.” He said, eyes suddenly narrowed in focus on the screen.

‘Let me introduce you to Gene, right now. He’s just down here, gatherin’ up some crumbs.’ From behind the coffee shop counter, Noel plucked up a lifeless, human-sized doll. It was dressed appropriately, with the trademark white-painted face. ‘Here he is, Gene Simmons. Gene, say hello to the people watchin’ at home.’ In the awkward silence that followed, you started to laugh, flabbergasted. ‘He’s a bit shy.’

“You’re laughing.” Ethan said.

“Yeah, because this show is completely bonkers.” You said through your continued giggles.

“‘Cause I was right.”

— — —

i have a complete list of all 20 things ethan was planning-- wanna guess what other kinks/positions we didn’t quite get to in this fic?

If you like my writing, feel free to tip me. I am open to both commissions & requests, commissions get priority & the most input

#ethan torchio fic #ethan x reader #ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio x you #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin smut #maneskin fic #manesmut

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storiesofsvu · 2 years

Text

A Redemption Earned Ch 3

Heather Dunbar x reader Warnings: language, mentions of past angst, minor hurt.

Within the couple of weeks following Heather’s original meet up with Becca, she was finally finding her footing once again. The firm back in Baltimore had finally found the best property in Washington, sending out their real estate agent to hash out the details, they were still in escrow, but at least Heather knew what area to start looking for actual housing in.

With the continued support of Rob and Becca, and them encouraging her gently to do what she truly loved, she’d made the call that staying in Washington after the case wrapped was what she wanted. Truthfully, they’d made a day of it, Becca and Rob tagging along for a second opinion (and to gauge her behaviour) as Heather viewed multiple properties. The first note Rob made was that she’d scrapped her old real estate agent and poked a little fun at her for not looking at mansions this go around. Becca asked what had happened to all of the stuff from the old house that hadn’t been trashed and Heather admitted it was still there. She still owned the place, and while renovators had slowly been fixing it up over the years, she’d never been back long enough to sell. It was on her to do list, get the furniture she wanted moved over and then rid herself of ever having to see the house again.

After a couple of afternoons traipsing through Washington, she doubled back to a four-bedroom nestled in Chevy Chase. It was modest compared to the old house, a stone fireplace in the living room with French doors to the family room. The second floor housed three bedrooms, the master with an ensuite and a half bath in the hall, Heather’s reasoning was that she still needed a home office and yoga/workout space. (And neither of them could object, Rob’s place had five bedrooms). The top floor bedroom had its own bathroom and full bath complete with laundry and extra storage space. Heather pointed out that this space would completely and totally be for Becca if she ever wanted to spend the night, otherwise it was a guest room. The basement was unfinished but held another room and half bath to do with what she pleased. There was a nice outdoor space, a small but cozy newly built stone patio and lush landscaped yard. After wrangling with the real estate agent for a bit, she set an offer and he was sure that she would get it, just had to check with the sellers first. A day later the deal closed and Heather set about moving everything where she needed it, she was pleasantly surprised when Becca offered to do the supervisory work at the old place so she wouldn’t need to physically show up there, saving her from having to return to the place where everything went up in flames.

Things were a little scattered, to say the least. The office still wasn’t open, inspection after inspection still ongoing. The new house mainly had the things Heather didn’t currently need, able to open up a bit of space at the Airbnb, while it slowly filled with the few stragglers from the old house. She was still living and working out of her temporary housing, doing her best to focus on the case at hand rather than all the external things going on in her life.

Today she was at her makeshift desk, sorting through papers and statements, getting ready to meet with a handful of witnesses herself. This case wasn’t a lighthearted one, she was used to political lies and blackmail, but now she was dealing with broken families, domestic violence, and children being the very undeserving victims. This case was one called in by elementary school employees, a few unexplained bruises found on a young girl, when the police looked into the family, it appeared it was a foster family, and there were a few other suspicious situations involving them. Heather hated every minute of it, knowing that there were people out there who would exploit the foster system like that. She skimmed through the files before making sure she had the school correct, calling the car service, she had to meet with a couple of the teachers and the school counsellor before things could move forward.

Her first meeting was with the principal, who honestly, droned on for nearly an hour about how good his school was and how this never would have happened had it been in a higher income neighbourhood. Heather did her best to hold back from rolling her eyes before shifting to the guidance counsellor’s room and hearing their story, taking notes as she did so. Finally, she was sent to room two-twelve to meet with Miss. Summers. Finding the room easily enough, she knocked gently on the frame, she wasn’t entirely sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t you.

You glanced up from the assignment you were marking, expecting a student who’d doubled back after the bell, when you saw a very well dressed adult, you remembered that after school meeting the principal had mentioned. Quickly pushing back your chair you stood, a smile on your face as you greeted her.

“Hi. Ms… Dunbar, right?”

“Heather.” She replied with a small smile as you shook hands, “Miss Summers, they told me?”

“Oh!” You laughed, “I’m far too old to be a Miss, Ms is fine. But you can call me y/n. Please,” you gestured to one of the other adult sized chairs in the room, “have a seat.”

Heather slipped into it easily, crossing her legs as she surveyed the room. The walls were covered in photographs, brightly coloured construction paper and the stereotypical learning charts to help with math among other things. She could feel your gaze on her as she glanced around, unsurprised when you spoke,

“What?” you asked with a grin and she chuckled.

“I suppose I’m realizing just now this is the first time I’ve ever set foot in a public school.” You let out a bark of a laugh at that, settling back in your chair.

“So the rich fancy-pants lawyer isn’t just for show. Little miss private school over here; you go to Whittle?”

“No.” Heather let out a small laugh, smoothing her hair behind her ear, “I grew up in Connecticut.”

“And yet here you are working family law in The District?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ll bet.” You surveyed her for a moment and Heather felt the anxiety creeping up in her chest, she had been (obviously) rather well known around Washington. She began to wonder if you recognized her or were now connecting the name to the face and what kind of judgements you’d make on her career because of it. She tried to convince herself that not everything was about her, not everyone knew who she was and was talking herself down when you suddenly spoke again, “you’re here about Amber, right?”

“Sorry?” She shook out of it, glancing up to see you pulling a file folder from your desk, remembering why she was there in the first place, “oh, yes.”

The conversation slid into a more serious one then as Heather went over the allegations and as much of the rest of the information that she could release. In turn you corroborated the statements and went over your own as a witness and a few other things that you’d noted from the time that Amber had been in your class. Heather was impressed with how quick you kept up with the legal terminology and how you didn’t shy away from the heavy subject at all. She thought she’d be dealing with either another pinhead like the main office, or someone who was far too sensitive for the matter that would make a terrible witness. The time flew by before she even realized that the two of you had neatly wrapped things up already, sliding a business card across the desk.

“And you can feel free to call if you think of anything else.”

“Thanks.” You slid the card into your bag, picking up a pen, “I’m gonna guess you’ll need my personal info too? Not just the school’s.” You paused to scribble your name and number onto a post it note and passed it to her, letting out a small snort of a laugh, “sorry it’s SpongeBob…. It was a gift from a student for Christmas.”

“It’s fine.” She chuckled softly, sticking the note to the first page of her binder, “it was my son’s favourite show when he was a kid.”

“Hmm.” You nodded and she raised a brow in your direction, “kid but no ring?”

“Divorced.” She let out a heavy sigh, “a rather messy one.”

“Sorry….” You frowned, taking her in once again, there was something hidden behind her eyes on the subject about her family, but considering you’d literally just met her, you weren’t about to push, she wasn’t one of your students. “For what it’s worth, I’ve seen a lot of divorced parents come through here who end up finding a second love.”

“I don’t know about that.” She chuckled, muttering under her breath as she tucked her binder back into her bag, “how long have you been teaching?”

“Uh…. seventeen years, give or take. Third grade seems to be where I’ve found my niche.” You gestured around the room and she nodded. You let out a small giggle.

“What?”

“I can see the wheels spinning.” You laughed, “everyone looks at me and doesn’t fucking believe there’s any way I could’ve been teaching that long, good genes I guess.”

“I’d say.” It slipped out before Heather could even process what she was saying, she was hoping you wouldn’t catch it, but the tiniest of smirks took over your lips and she blushed, swiftly gathering the rest of her things and moving to stand, watching as you followed her action.

“Hey…” you started a little more cautious than your earlier tone, “I don’t…suppose I could buy you a drink this weekend? Little excuse to go over some more details?”

“Oh!” Heather’s eyes widened, suddenly completely unsure of herself, “I, uh, this isn’t exactly the best time…”

“Oh, fuck. Right.” You laughed awkwardly, “read the room, middle of a case isn’t exactly ideal. Conflict of interest and all…”

“Well, that…” she let out a huff, her brain scrambling to try and not short circuit, “and I… just moved back, I’m still at a bnb, the office isn’t even furnished yet. Things are…hectic to say the least.”

“It’s all good.” Letting out a soft sigh you crossed the room to the door with her, “I…just, still relatively new to the area, figured you might know the best places to get a bite.”

“How about, once I know whether we’ll need you as a witness or not, I’ll give you my best recommendations?” She nodded softly, grinning in your direction,

“Sounds perfect.”

“I’ll be in touch.” She smiled gently stepping into the hall.

“I look forward to it.” You returned the gesture as she fully turned and exited the room heading towards the parking lot.

Internally, you were kicking yourself, knowing you should’ve known better than to try and flirt when you were not only at work, but working on a sensitive matter. Though it had happened rather naturally, or at least, that was what you were going to keep telling yourself.

Heather settled easily into the back of the SUV, watching the streets blur by as it drove back to where she was staying. She kept replaying the conversation over and over in her head, trying to figure out if there were little innuendos hidden in there or if she was just seeing things. You’d been professional and friendly, she thought even flirty, but the comment about how you were relatively new to the area had thrown her. She couldn’t quite figure out if you were just being friendly, or if you were toeing the line and wanted to cross it. Either way, that was something for later, right now, she had work to focus on. There was no way her first case back in D.C could be a flop, she had to come out on top.

Late that evening Heather sat at the kitchen island, case file in front of her, half full glass of wine beside her hand and the stragglers of tonight’s dinner getting cold off to the side. She was flipping through the witness statements she’d gotten earlier that day, highlighting and colour coding everything as she put the case together, tightening all the loose ends she’d gotten from the police.

A flash of red and blue light outside the window caught her eye as a car drove by the building outside, she waited for the blast of the siren but when nothing came she figured it was late enough they weren’t using it. A sip of wine and she paused to gaze across at the T.V. as it droned on mindlessly in the living room. She was about to turn back to her work when a curt knock echoed through the condo and she let out a small sigh, standing from her seat and flipping the case file closed. Before she crossed the room, she made the call to drain her wine glass, easily swallowing the liquid down as she moved through the space to pull open the door.

“I guess it was only a matter of time.” She greeted and Jackie’s brow furrowed.

“You knew I was coming?”

“When you’re required to bring a convoy with you, it’s a bit of a spoiler alert.” Heather nodded toward the window where the flashing blue and red lights were still bouncing off the walls of the kitchen. Jackie hmph’d and turned back to her security,

“I’ll just be a minute.” She stepped into the apartment, letting Heather swing the door shut behind them as she surveyed the space. She had expected things to be a little bit more put together, although she knew from Becca that there was a lot of moving around in progress and that never helped with things being tidy. “So the rumours are true?” She turned to the other woman, eyebrow raised, “you’re back for good.”

“After working through some cautious feelers, conferring with my therapist and the surprising support from my family…yes.” She took a deep breath, part of her wishing she still had a glass filled with wine instead of an empty one on the counter, “and I know you’re not here to roll out the welcome wagon, so how about we cut the crap and get to the chase.”

Jackie surveyed her for a moment, her eyes flicking down and back up the other woman’s body, taking in the changes from the last time she’d seen her. She certainly looked softer, more approachable and far less domineering. Though it wasn’t the same Heather who had showed up at Natasha’s condo unannounced, tail between her legs with the façade that she had changed in a matter of weeks. Jackie let out a huff, crossing her arms over her chest as she leant against the back of the couch.

“We both know if I had my way you would have been sent packing before you’d even managed to step foot off the plane.” Heather let out a small chuckle of agreement, “however…. Your family seems to think that you’ve put in a substantial amount of work on yourself over these past years. As of right now, they may be cautious, but they have your back.”

“I understand I’m on thin ice with you Jackie, and part of me understands why.”

“Listen,” she held up a hand briefly to signify to the other woman that she had something to get out before Heather was allowed to comment, “family is important, and they’re yours. So I don’t have much say in the matter. The thing is that you not only destroyed yourself and them six years ago, you walked away from them, shoved them away from you and left them no choice but to cut you out. In that absence Nat and I became their family. Nat’s been at every single event as long as she wasn’t out of town, she hosted Becca’s first graduation party, if we weren’t with them for a holiday, they were joining us at the White House. I can’t say as much for myself once I stepped into office, I still made the best effort I could, but the job’s a little time consuming.” She paused to let out a little sigh, “I assume you’ll be joining them for future holidays?” Heather nodded slowly,

“It’s come up, but nothing official has been decided yet.”

“Mmm.”

“I suppose this is the part where you bar me from seeing Tasha?”

Jackie let out a snort, rolling her eyes,

“I’m her wife. Not her keeper. I don’t own her. I don’t have her on a fucking leash.” Her lips pursed and Heather felt the pang of guilt in her gut, knowing just how wrong she’d treated Nat and how Jackie’s words were repeats of her own to Nat in the past. “I am… leaving the decision up to her on whether she wants to see you or not. She’s a grown woman who, thanks to years of heavy therapy and a healthy, loving relationship, can make sound decisions.”

“I can never stress enough just how sorry I am for everything that happened. At the time I didn’t realize just how badly I was treating the people I cared about.” Jackie scoffed at the hint that Heather ever felt anything but control over Nat, feeling the rage surge through her once again. “I know now that my relationship with her was incredibly toxic.”

“It was far worse than that!” Jackie suddenly rose to her full height, taking advantage of the stilettos and the inch over Heather it gave her “do you have any idea how badly you ripped her to shreds!?”

“I never reached out to her; you know that. So…no… I guess I don’t.” The guilt weighed upon her again, sighing and moving back to the kitchen to refill her wine glass. She wordlessly pulled down a fresh glass to fill, leaving it on the island closer to Jackie if she felt the desire to partake.

Jackie took a breath, nearly pacing through the living room as she tried to piece together just how much she wanted to let Heather in on. She knew that Nat trusted her with her life, and with all of her hurt, and that Nat also trusted her judgement on who and when to bring them to light. But there was still a part of her that was sure she would never want Heather to know just how much she’d broken her. The old Heather would’ve gotten off on how much pain she had caused, but the remorseful look in the older woman’s eyes gave Jackie a little bit of reassurance that she was at least on the right track. She let out a heavy sigh before swiping the wine glass and taking a hefty swig, placing it back down on the island perhaps a little too harshly.

“The things you said…. the way you behaved? It fucked her up more than you ever were expecting. You didn’t just mould her into this little submissive pet, you blamed her and Becca for Jordan’s death, saying that they should have been there or done more when they couldn’t have done anything. You told her she was worthless, nothing but a pawn to be played with. Shit like that brought up terrible trauma for her that she’d already coped with, moved on from and stored away in a little box all tied up neat with a bow. Coping with the way you treated her, your so called ‘relationship’? it made her relapse…”

“What do you mean?” Heather asked quietly, attempting to hold Jackie’s gaze as she glanced over to her, the misting of tears already apparent in the other woman’s eyes.

“Her mom had terrible postpartum depression. For years after she was born. She drank herself to death by the time Nat was two, and her dad blamed the entire thing on her, held it over her head for years. Then at sixteen when she came out, he said she was a worthless piece of shit that didn’t deserve to be loved by anyone and booted her out onto the streets.”

“Oh god… I never knew.”

“Yeah, well you do have a terrible habit of not listening when other people talk.”

“That’s something I’ve been working on.”

“Good.” Jackie shot her a near glare, “because I don’t know much about the rest of your affairs, but I know just how much you fucked up Nat. It took her ages to understand what real love was, how to actually be loved. Believe me, I love her with my entire soul, but our relationship has not been easy. She was afraid of any PDA in the beginning, constantly self doubting herself, I knew she took everything I said with a grain of salt, afraid that I was going to pull the rug out from under her and turn out to be you two point oh.”

“I’m so sorry.” Heather practically whispered into the rim of her wine, very clearly seeing the pain in the other woman’s eyes. Back in the day she’d never thought about the repercussions of her actions, she simply did as she pleased. Even after all the therapy and growth she’d done, she still had never actually seen the aftermath of any of her behaviour, she had no clue how her past sugar babies were doing in life, hell, it hadn’t been until the run in a few weeks ago she had any idea how her family was doing. She was starting to realize just how fucking lucky she was to have stepped foot in that restaurant that day, she easily could have gone her entire life without speaking a word to any of them ever again.

“You better mean that.” Jackie took another swig of wine, “because while I have far too many more stories that would help you realize what a terrible person you were, those aren’t for your ears. At least not from me. The main reason that I came by tonight was to see you for myself, and to let you know that if it turns out you have even so much of a sliver of malicious intentions by returning to Washington…. I’ll find some reason to throw you in a jail cell myself. You lay a hand on my wife, or say anything derogatory to or about her, and you’ll be instantly reminded that I am the second most powerful person in the country. Understood?”

“Yes.” She nodded curtly, keeping any other comments to herself. She knew she would never be fully forgiven by Jackie, that was very clear tonight. Jackie had helped Nat through her worst years, picked up all the broken pieces that Heather had left behind, and she already knew Jackie was fiercely protective of the people she loved.

“For the record, she does know I’m here. We don’t keep secrets from each other. She knows I’d rather you never be in the same room together, but she also knows that I know how much her relationship with Becca means, and that they became her found family, after years of feeling isolated and alone. I’m not one to take that away from her just because you showed up, so this is your one chance I’m giving you.” Jackie swiftly crossed the room, her hand reaching out to the door handle before she turned back, letting out a small sigh, “you always had incredible potential Heather…. There was a long time of my career that I looked up to you, I thought for sure I would see you in the oval office one day. But you ended up sabotaging yourself. I only hope that you can see you’ve earned a chance at that potential once again, though this time, with your family. Which, may I say, seems far more important. For their sake…don’t fuck this up again.”

Heather was about to reply, knowing that Jackie’s words were ones of encouragement despite her tone. She wanted to see Heather improving, wanted to know that the woman had changed and was no longer living her old ways. She’d watched her fall from grace, the way Heather tumbled to absolute rock bottom, and as much as she would always hold a grudge, she never wanted to witness someone there again. The door was suddenly nudged open from the other side,

“M’am.” The head of Jackie’s security intruding into their conversation and Jackie let out a huff, shooting Heather a ‘you know how it is’ knowing look before giving her a nod that Heather returned, watching the vice president vanish from the condo.

As the door latched shut behind her Heather let out a heavy huff of a breath, instantly draining her freshly poured wine. She knew that returning to Washington would always pull up a few old strings, people who would never believe she could change, those who would roll their eyes at the thought that the Heather Dunbar could be anything but conniving, but at this point she had her family at the very least. And Jackie had said she would give her one opportunity, which was more than she was expecting from the politician.

Rather than settling at the island again she grabbed a sparkling water from the fridge, picking up her work files and moved over to the couch. If she was going to keep working at least she could be comfortable. Her mind drifted off often as she tried to focus on the files, sometimes distracted by the television, other times she would be reading through your scrawled handwriting and she caught herself wondering what exactly was happening there. Mostly though, she was doing her best to not relive moments of her affair with Natasha, little flashes of memories shooting through her brain. Some of them good, some of them more than scandalous, but the ones that stood out the most, the ones that stung the most, were the ones that she now recognized as very toxic and abusive behaviours. She let out a shudder of a breath, placing her work to the side knowing she wouldn’t get anything else done tonight.

Instead, she crossed the room to dig through a box that held most of her journals, mental health articles, reports from her therapist and anything else retaining to her growth. Her fingers found one of the ‘letter journal’, the one that she filled with all of the apologies that the people she’d wronged would likely never hear. It wasn’t just empty ‘I’m sorry’s’, it was detailed streams of thoughts, of her acknowledging specific events and just how bad it got. There were never excuses to make her feel better about it, she had to be held responsible or she would never grow beyond the person she used to be. Her therapist had originally suggested writing the first letter to Nat, the one who she’d wronged the most, who came up in her sessions frequently. It then moved on to Becca, Rob, she was often encouraged to write to Jordan, the things she would say to him if he was still alive, the things that she’d missed the opportunity to ever say. Eventually she had separate letter journals for each of them, a few extras that were simply a collection of the women she had affairs with, the ones she knew she’d never see again. Part of it was to keep it catalogued on her end, always a stickler for proper organization. Part of it was in the hopes that maybe, just maybe she would be able to reconnect with anyone in the future, and that her letters wouldn’t be written into the void anymore, but rather read by the intended recipient, and hopefully met with forgiveness.

With a little sigh, she took a couple of moments to calm her breathing and the anxiety coursing through her before she picked up the pen and opened Natasha’s journal. The flashes of memories along with the new information from Jackie was more than enough to have her starting a new letter, one that hurt to write, but then again, that was kind of the point. The more it hurt meant that she was addressing how toxic she had been, it meant that she was now aware of her bad behaviour and how she was going to go about changing it and making sure she never made those mistakes again in the future. Three pages later and she felt the relief of getting everything off her chest, letting out a shaky breath as she closed the journal, placing it down on the coffee table.

She glanced up at the television and rolled her eyes at the nighttime news starting, flicking the remote to a random channel. It settled on a family network, her heart melting at the sight of that annoying yellow sponge on the screen. Rather than switch it off, she felt her heart strings tug, the slight misting of tears in her eyes as she picked up the green journal meant for Jordan. She wasn’t sure if she would ever admit it, she’d been absent for so much of their childhoods but she really did miss the nights when Jordan would have a stomach ache or nightmares, the nights he was still young enough he needed his mom and no one else. The nights she would curl him up in his favourite blanket on the couch and watch mindless cartoons until he managed to fall asleep and she could carry him to bed. When she looked back on her life, it was nights like those that she missed the most, the ones where she actually felt like a mother, a wife, and part of a family. And that was how she knew she was always moving forward and getting better, with every day that went past, politics meant less and less to her, and all she wanted to do was make right of all her previous mistakes.

___________ @ms-calhoun @naturalxselectionn @yesterdaysgone @hbkpop @giftedchildturns40 @anya-casablanca @svulife-rl @swimmingstudentchaos891 @alexusonfire @jamiethetrans @natasha-danvers @oliviaswifey @mysticfalls01 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @svushots @yourtaletotell @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @imaginaryoperagloves @multifandomlesbianic @annegilletteslostwh0r3 @bookpillows @drduckthief @whimsicallymad @mmmmokdok @ladysc @momlifebehard @mmemalwa @holycrapraewth @poisonedcrowns @wannabe-fic-reader @when-wolves-howl @dead-of-niight @fighterkimburgess @lannister-slings-and-arrows @borg-queer

#heather dunbar #heather dunbar x reader #jackie sharp #house of cards #a redemption earned

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chaoticforever · 3 years

Text

The Storm Within | Yandere Bruce Banner x Male! Reader

A/N: Requested. Bruce is only a slight yandere as requested. Hope you like it!

Avengers Tower was beautiful at night.

The whole room was lit up by the enormous precious stone crystal fixture, looming over the middle of the huge room. The huge open glass windows offered a great view of the completely dark sky covered with sparkling stars that looked like scattered moondust and the beautiful zinc-silver glowing moon.

Tony Stark had decided to throw a party at the tower to celebrate his successful new project and because, well, he's Tony Stark. He's the best party thrower in New York and he loves throwing them.

Bruce Banner stood next to the bar with Natasha and a drink in his hand. He did not want to be here. He wasn't a big fan of parties, but Tony forced him to come, even though he only wanted to go work in his lab.

"Bruce and Natasha!"

Bruce looked up from the ground to see Tony walking over to them with a man he has never seen before. He felt his heart skip a beat when his eyes met your E/C eyes. You're stunning E/C eyes.

You were wearing casual clothes and had smooth skin. Bruce noticed how your (hair type) hair made your eyes stand out and shine. You were very handsome and looked really young.

He wondered who this mysterious man was. He cleared his throat as Tony came over and introductions happened.

"Bruce. Natasha, this is Y/N L/N. Y/N, this is Natasha Romanoff and Bruce Banner." Tony introduced as you shook hands with Natasha.

"Are you Y/N L/N from L/N enterprise?" Natasha asked and received a nod in confirmation from you.

"Yeah, that's me."

"I know all about L/N enterprise. You do great work, and you're a great man."

"Thank you. You have a tough grip, I like you already." You grinned as she chuckled before leaving to find Clint.

You turned to face Bruce and extended your hand out towards him and he took your hand in his, quickly shaking it. Maybe a little too quickly, but he loved the feeling of your hands in his.

"Nice to meet you, Bruce. It's wonderful to meet someone who is such a genius and has seven PhDs along with being The Hulk. A little scary, but very cool."

"Hey, I'm a genius and I'm right here!"

"Oh, hush, Tony." You said as you kept your eyes solely on Bruce who blushed from under your stare. He felt oddly calm around you, which he didn't feel around people he meets for the first time.

"It's nice to meet you too, Y/N. How do you two know each other?" Bruce asked, keeping his voice as steady as possible, as he tried not to sound like a jealous lover, but he needed to know how you and Tony knew each other.

"Oh, Y/N and I go way back."

"Yeah, I used to work as his assistant before Pepper, even though I didn't need to because my parents left me a lot of money. I was there for this idiot when he got really drunk and we hit it off great outside of work and became friends."

"Ever since then, it's been a crazy ride with this man. He's like my long-lost little brother who's as handsome as I am."

"Aw, thanks, Tones. You're like the older brother I never had who's as smart and as amazing as me."

You playfully punched Tony in the arm as you both smiled at each other. The two of you were alike in lots of ways. Bruce felt a spark of jealousy and rage when he saw how close you and Tony were before he realized that you two looked at each other as friends, which made him relax.

"Anyways Bruceybear, I have something to ask you." Tony suddenly said to him.

"What is it?" Bruce asked, his ears perking up at hearing this statement.

"Well, how would you feel if Y/N became part of the team as one of our science bros? He's as much of a genius as we are."

"Not to mention that I can help you with various experiments and even be a test subject." You chimed in with a smile.

A smile that is so universal that even a newborn baby knows by heart. A smile that made the stars shine brighter in the night sky. A smile that made the lights in this room shine brighter and seemed to be quite contagious because Bruce found himself smiling back at you.

"I think it would be great to have you join us, science bros." Bruce spoke truthfully, "And if you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

"How old do I look to you, Brucey."

Bruce smirked at the tone in your voice, "If I had to guess, I'd say you are in your early to mid-20s."

You groaned from hearing that answer, "Why does everyone keep thinking that? I'm in my early 30s. Hell, even a guy at the liquor store asked me to show my ID because I looked too young to be there."

"It's all because of your good genes." Tony simply added in.

The next half-hour was spent with Tony being his sarcastic self, the adventures and crazy times you and Tony spent together, and various science topics.

"Okay, Bruce. I'm going to take Y/N to meet the other Avengers and some others before we get drunk and have fun."

"Aw, and here I was having a good conversation with Bruce, but I'll see you again soon and it's good to meet you."

You and Bruce smiled at each other before Tony placed his hand on the arch of your lower back and led you away to the others.

"Looks like someone has a crush." Natasha spoke up beside Bruce, appearing out of nowhere with a grin.

Bruce blushed, "No, I don't." He said in a defensive tone, but the blush upon his face said otherwise.

He can admit that he loved seeing you laugh and smile with Tony. He loved hearing your mesmerizing voice and had a wonderful conversation with you.

And there was something else.

He felt content because you treated him as a normal person and not some freak accident. He also felt something else, a connection of sorts and he wondered if you felt it, too.

He was genuinely pleased that you have become part of the science team and that he would see you again soon.

XXXXX XXXXX

"Hey bros. I've come with the goodies!" You announced loudly, stepping inside the lab to see Tony and Bruce working on something.

Bruce immediately stopped what he was doing and looked over at you.

He didn't sleep well last night. Tossed and turned for most of the night and had a nightmare. The coffee machine exploded on him earlier, so he was irritated, to say the least, but seeing you managed to make his day a little better.

"Good, give me them." Tony demanded as you rolled your eyes as he took the bag. He moaned when the delicious treat was shoved into his mouth, "Gosh, these are so good. Bruce, you have got to try this man's cookies."

Without warning, Tony shoved a cookie into Bruce's mouth, much to his dismay.

"Wow..." Bruce couldn't help, but moan in delight and deliciousness. This had to be the best treat that he's ever tasted, "That was really good. You made these cookies yourself?"

You nodded, your lips curling upward into a smile, "Yeah, my uncle taught me how to bake. I'll bring you guys some more soon."

"Good. These are so good, I can't get enough of them." Tony said, wiping some crumbs off his face.

"I'm not surprised, you always eat all of them all the time."

"And I don't plan on stopping either."

You chuckled before shaking your head, "So, what are we working on today?"

The next two hours consisted of crazy experiments and them using you as a test subject for armor and weapons.

Bruce would always be close to you when you both worked on something. He felt so safe standing next to you like he didn't need to get angry or Hulk out when he's in your presence. Despite him knowing you for a short period, he felt safer with you than anyone else.

Unfortunately, Hulk wanted to come out when you announced to the room that you were meeting up with your ex and had to leave.

"We'll be at the mall and I'll be gone for about two hours. Don't destroy the lab." You said and walked out of the lab, heading to your very own (favorite car).

"Hey, do you know who's Y/N's ex-boyfriend is?" Bruce asked Tony.

Tony nodded, "Oh, yeah. Moose Capaldi, a real estate agent. They dated for a while, but ended on good terms, why?"

"No reason."

"Yeah, sure."

Tony chuckled, knowing that Bruce had a crush on you. He wondered if he should play matchmaker for you two.

Bruce wanted to pretend that he wasn't jealous, but how could he not when you are going out with your ex-boyfriend? You two could probably patch things up and have sex. Jealousy and rage rose inside of him as his fingertips slowly turned a greenish color.

So, when Pepper came to talk to Tony about something important, Bruce left and found himself walking into the food court at the mall, seeking out a man with H/C hair.

It didn't take him long and eventually, he spotted you sitting at a table across from an attractive man. You both talked and laughed and when the attractive man reached over and touched your face is when Bruce lost it. A low growl erupted from his throat as he started turning green.

You laughed, "Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious." Moose let out a laugh, too, "And then we - what the fuck?"

Moose's gaze was suddenly focused on something behind you and you turned around, your eyes widening at what you saw.

Hulk was now hulked out in the middle of the mall and screams erupted from people's throats as they ran for their lives.

"Hulk smash!" He picked up a table and chucked it across the room in Moose's direction as you both stood up and hopped over the counter, hiding underneath.

"WHY IS HE TRYING TO KILL ME!"

"I DON'T KNOW!" You shouted back as your hands started to shake before you stood up and Moose gave you a look.

"What are you doing?!" He whispered.

"Shh." You hushed softly as you hopped over the counter and slowly walked over to Hulk who looked down at you, "Hey, Hulk. Do you know me?"

"Hulk knows Y/N. My Y/N." He grinned.

You chuckled, "Yes, I'm Y/N. And do you think you can calm down and transform back into Banner? You're kind of scaring everyone here right now."

"Would that make Y/N happy?"

"Yes, that would make me very happy."

You watched as Hulk shrunk down to his normal size, turning himself back into Bruce, naked and all.

Moose came up behind you and handed you his jacket. You took it and wrapped it around Bruce's body as he stared at you with an apologetic look on his face.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry-"

"It's okay. Let's get you back to the tower now," You responded and turned to face Moose, "I'll call you later."

Moose nodded, still feeling a little shaken up at what just happened as you drove Bruce back to the tower and he went straight to his room to change.

You, on the other hand, had to pay for all the damage Hulk caused at the mall. Bruce came back into the living room, fully clothed, and sat down on the couch as you hung up the phone.

"You want to explain to me what that was at the mall?" You sat down next to him and looked at him, waiting for an answer.

"Not really."

"Well, considering I paid a lot of money for the damage you caused, I deserve an answer. Why were you there? And what caused you to Hulk out?" He was silent, "Bruce!"

"I was jealous, okay?! I was jealous because you went on a date with Moose and you two could get back together-"

"Whoa, imma stop you right there," You interrupted him, laughing a little, "That wasn't a date. He was my first love but were only good friends now. And that's all we'll ever be. We were catching up and he's getting married to a guy named Colby, and wanted to know if I would come to their wedding."

"Oh." Bruce was now blushing from how much of an idiot he was for getting jealous for no reason.

"Yeah, oh. Besides, I like someone else."

"Who?!"

"He's sitting right next to me."

You smirked, leaning over, and pressed your lips onto Bruce's soft lips. He immediately kissed back and put his hand on the side of your face, deepening the kiss. Soon, you both broke the kiss and gasped for air.

"Are you sure that you want to be with me?" Bruce asked, "You'll have to deal with the other guy who lurks beneath the shadows."

"Oh, I'm not afraid of him." You said and Bruce raised an eyebrow, "Okay, maybe a little, but he's pretty cool and I'll learn to deal with him. And something tells me that you and I are going to have many more good kisses."

Truthfully, when you saw Hulk, you felt absolutely terrified to your utter core, but you'll learn to deal with the other guy.

"What makes you think we'll have more kisses?"

"Just a feeling that I have and my feelings are usually, always correct."

You dropped your head in Bruce's lap, stretching your legs out across the couch and Bruce dropped his hand in your hair.

"Are you positive that you want to get involved with me? I'll get angry a lot."

You hummed, sitting up and taking the drink off the table and throwing it in his face. Bruce sat up quickly and gasped, looking at you in wonder as his eyes turned a little green.

You laughed, "Don't get angry." You whispered in his ear and ran as he ran after you.

That day had to have been the best day of Bruce's life. He truly felt alive. And with all the shit you had done, Hulk didn't come out. Not once. The sound of your voice is what kept him calm.

It was therapeutic. Like your voice could be used as a meditation tape for someone to listen to every night.

And Bruce, who has seven PhDs, was wrong and you were right. There were many more kisses between you two, but none of those kisses could even compare to the kiss on your wedding day.

Of course, Tony was your best man who shared the most embarrassing stories of you, and the craziest adventures you both had with each other.

Bruce was still protective and only got possessive when he thought of someone as a threat. He wouldn't want to be stuck with anyone else but you.

XXXXX XXXXX

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Home

The building that housed Fentonworks had never been normal, no matter what neighbors and real estate agents might profess.

Things had happened there. Deaths. Wild twists of fate and shocking coincidences. People who lived there heard noises, saw things, felt things. Experienced sicknesses with no cause. Were cured of sicknesses without cause. Survived things that should have killed them.

It was a thin spot between worlds. Reality was a rippling membrane, frayed enough for things to shine through.

The construction of the neighborhood itself had been… strange. It happened much faster than it should have, as if there was a whole extra shift of workers on the project.

The townhouse that would one day become Fentonworks had stood out even in that mystery. Extra rooms, a basement deep enough to cause a nasty fight with regulators, features not approved by the architect.

It was a wonder they hadn’t hit any of the water lines or the sewage systems. A wonder- and an impossibility. So, the matter was ignored and dropped.

Then the next owners expanded that impossible basement, building another, secret basement and putting things in the walls- They were criminals, of course. It was expected for them to do illegal things. (Although exactly what they had done was… oddly uncertain.)

(Drugs, perhaps.)

Then, the lunatics. Then, the tiny cult that collapsed in on itself. Then the empty years, dozens of transient ghosts trying and failing to pass through, and the ghost hunters. So many ghost hunters, none of them particularly successful.

Then, the Fentons.

Then, little Jazz.

Then, little Danny.

Danny with wide eyes that saw too much.

And all the horrors that the Fentons could dream up, from living hotdogs to weapons that burned like stars and doors to places that should not be visited.

And this was Danny Fenton’s home.

The Manson estate was an odd case, even for Amity Park. Save for the basement, the entire building they lived in had been transplanted, brick and beam, from Germany.

Rich people were bizarre.

Even the Mansons couldn’t explain it. The man who had done it hadn’t been a Manson. The Mansons, who were relatively new money, all things considered, had purchased it from one of the man’s children. Anything to boost their prestige.

It was fancy, and it was old, a gothic and statuesque mansion worthy of its name. Still, it wasn’t quite fancy or old enough to merit the kind of expenditure moving it had to take.

Hence the rumors, squelched by the Mansons, that the place was haunted.

It wasn’t.

The rumors, however, were enough to get one Samantha Manson interested in the occult. Especially given how hard she saw her parents working to hide the rumors from her.

No. The mansion wasn’t haunted. For all it’s oddities and quirks – which only multiplied as the Mansons added more and more features to it – the building itself was mundane.

(The land it was built on might have been another story.)

And this was Sam Manson’s home.

The Foleys didn’t want to know what Tucker got up to in the attic, but liked to think that, with that one exception, their home was a nice one. It was on a nice street, in a nice neighborhood, just far enough away from Fentonworks to keep both sightings of the Ghost Assault Vehicle and resultant property damage and property taxes to a minimum. Within walking distance of the high school, a supermarket, and a park.

They kept the fridge and pantry stocked. Their food might not have always been healthy – red meat was an element of almost every meal – but it was always available and filling. They made an effort for the dietary restrictions of Tucker’s friends of course.

All the rooms were kept clean and neat. Even Tucker’s, by way of bribes. Everything was organized, everything had its place. Except, perhaps, for the stray shoe or piece of schoolwork.

But that attic.

It really hadn’t been anything, before Tucker asked if he could move his computer stuff up there. Just a storage space, one too difficult for either Angela or Maurice to climb up there often. They didn’t consider themselves old, but they couldn’t call themselves young either. Not with a son Tucker’s age.

Once Tucker had realized the attic was there, he had been fascinated. And, well, once he was old enough for them to not worry about him falling off the ladder, they let him go up.

Some days, it seemed, he didn’t come down.

Better than his faintly disturbing Ancient Egypt phase, where he kept bringing pictures of mummified corpses to the table. Or, worse, the werewolf phase.

And this was Tucker Foley’s home.

Amity Park had claimed the distinction of ‘most haunted town in America’ long before the Fentons opened their portal. In fact, that was the reason the Fentons had set up shop there, in the first place.

No haunted town was complete without at least one haunted house. Amity Park had several. Not to mention a haunted hospital, a selection of haunted schools, a haunted museum, a haunted pool, a haunted crosswalk, a haunted mall, a haunted football field… The list went on, essentially ad nauseum.

Of course, that list mostly consisted of places that became haunted after the Fentons built their portal. But even before then, some places offered their dubious charms to tourists.

Mostly gullible ones. More than half of the claims of hauntings before the portal opened were fraudulent in their entirety. These places quickly went broke and got abandoned when real ghosts started showing up.

One of these was the ominously named Raven House, which stood in the hills on the west edge of town.

The story the tourists of years gone by had been told was that a widower had lived out here, all by himself and that one day, he stopped coming to town, or paying his bills, or even getting his mail. When the mailbox at the end of the long driveway was full, the mailman decided to go check on the widower. What he found was a flock of ravens and a skeleton, entirely picked clean of flesh.

No such death had occurred there, nor in any part of Amity. No such person had ever lived in the house, either. The last owners, before the company that decided to market the house as haunted, were a couple with two children.

It wasn’t until months after the portal started up that it became haunted in truth.

“This place isn’t haunted,” said Danny, panning his flashlight over cobwebbed corners on the ceiling. “I don’t think it ever was.”

“That’s what, strike five?” asked Sam.

Danny shrugged. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Four, actually,” said Tucker. “We counted the hospital as inconclusive, since we don’t know if anyone was there before Spectra.”

Danny nodded. “It’s weird, though, isn’t it? That no one lives here, I mean. It looks like a perfectly nice house.”

“Décor’s a bit… eh. Trying to hard to be haunted,” said Tucker, poking a raven decal on the wallpaper.

“I like it,” said Sam. “Needs cleaning, though.”

“Hey,” said Tucker, “you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you? Because I’m pretty sure that’d be illegal.”

“It isn’t as if anyone else is using the place,” argued Sam. “It could be a great backup hideout, if we ever had to… you know.” She glanced at Danny. “Plus, we’d be doing them a favor, really, keeping things clean and lived in.”

“I think it’s an okay idea,” said Danny.

“Yeah, but you think lots of dumb things are good ideas. Like showing up at a party hosted by people who publicly humiliate you on a regular basis.”

Danny grumbled something about trauma responses that sounded like a direct quote from Jazz and something else about that incident being ages (aka weeks) ago. Then, he brightened.

“We could get one of the little ectoplasm generators to power everything,” he said. “Remember all that stuff we lifted from Skulker and Technus? We could actually use it. Study and test things without worrying about whether our parents will walk in. I mean, your attic is great, but still.”

“Plus, we can have actual lab safety protocols. No offense, Danny.”

“I am the one that half-died in a lab accident, so… None taken.”

Tucker rubbed his chin. “Alright. I suppose I can see the appeal… But if we have stuff that can trace back to us, we could get in serious trouble."

“We’ll be careful, then,” said Sam.

“Anything I take from Mom and Dad has plausible deniability. They’ll assume ghosts stole it.”

“We also need to clean if we’re being serious about this. And get a fridge. And figure out the pluming situation.”

“Fridge is on the list. We have to be careful about the outside, too. If this place is suddenly well maintained, people will notice.”

“Sure, but that isn’t something they’d call the cops over,” said Danny. “They’ll just assume new people are moving in. If anyone sees it at all. We’re pretty far away from anything. But pluming won’t be too hard. We just need to bring our own water. Like, toilets flush using physics. If you dump more water in, they’ll go, no electricity required.”

“How do you know that?”

“I can’t even tell you how many time Mom and Dad blew out all our breakers with stuff in the lab,” said Danny. “You pick up a few things.”

“Well,” said Tucker, swinging his flashlight over to examine a discolored spot on the ceiling. “Then… Home sweet home, I suppose.”

There was a house in the hills in the west hills of Amity Park.

And this was the home of two and a half humans and half a ghost.

#danny phantom #dannymay2021 #dannymay 2021 #dannymay #dannymay day 2: home

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ilikefandoms · 4 years

Text

Family Dinner - Robby Keene

Request - Hi, it's me again. You could write something in which the reader and Robby are in a secret relationship and Daniel notices that boy's passionate gaze and is curious to know who the mysterious young woman is who was leaving him like this, then asks him to invite her to a family dinner . It turns out that Daniel didn't even imagine that this girl was the golden student of Cobra Kai, almost as relentless as Tory and Samantha's number one rival. Throughout dinner, the reader does her best not to provoke a scene, even with Sam's indiscreet insinuations about her being a bad person and to make matters worse, a conversation about sexual orientation arises in a very prejudiced way from Louie and she is extremely offended after a prejudiced comment about bisexuality (she is bisexual, Robby knows and accepts this), Daniel ends up being faster and goes after her, the two talk very cute (almost father and daughter) and the two end up giving each other very well . Anyway, after all that mixture of emotions that was the night, Robby takes the reader home which leads to a lot of affection and kisses on her part (deep down, under that badass exterior she is just a big monster of affection ❤). Sorry if it took too long hahaha.

Pronouns used - She/Her

A/N - Disclaimer: I do not agree with anything that Louie says in this, it is purely for the storyline. I also kinda made Sam look like a bad guy...sorry Sam.

Warnings - Louie being a biphobic asshole, language

Word Count - 1593

You and Robby had a somewhat 'secret relationship'. You had both decided not to tell anyone, considering the rivalry between your respective dojos. Anyway, you were enjoying spending time with Robby alone.

Daniel had begun to get suspicious though. He had noticed that Robby had been acting different than usual, smiling at his phone, and getting home later. Daniel had made the fair assumption that Robby was in fact, seeing someone.

He had not-so subtilty brought up the question in conversation, taking Robby aback. Robby had admitted it though, and Mr Larusso had asked to meet this ‘Mystery Girl’, and asked Robby to invite you to family dinner.

So, here you were standing outside the Larusso’s house, having just texted Robby that you were here. You didn’t want Sam answering the door.

Robby opened the door, “Hey babe, why didn’t you knock?”

“I didn’t want Sam or someone opening it to see me,” you shrugged, “I’m just nervous I guess, what with mine and Sam’s rivalry, with Cobra Kai. Everything,”

Robby wrapped his arms around you, “It’s gonna be ok, alright. If it ends up being too awkward or whatever, we can leave,” he reassured.

“Thank you,”

He kissed your cheek, “Anytime. Ready to go in?” you nodded. Robby placed his hand in yours, and you walked in.

The Larusso’s house was beautiful, it had off-white walls, a mixture of hardwood and patterned flooring, and large windows. It was probably one of the nicest houses you’d ever been in.

“Hey Robby,” Amanda Larusso approached you, “This must be your girlfriend. I’m Amanda,”

“Y/N,” you said.

“it’s so great to meet you, Robby’s told us so much about you!” She said - even if this wasn’t true.

“No he hasn’t,” you said, with a weak chuckle.

“Okay, well... that’s true, but I hope to get to know you more today. Okay, we are eating outside today as it is a lovely night. Everyone else is already out there, make yourselves at home, and dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” she said, smiling.

You both thanked her, before heading outside to where everyone was talking. “Hey everyone,” Robby made your presence known.

“Hey Robby!” Daniel greeted, before laying his eyes on you, when his smile faded. It was no secret that you were the Golden Student of Cobra Kai, you had even been known to take Miguel and Tory in fights, and of course...Sam.

“What is she doing here?” Sam exclaimed, gesturing towards you.

Your grip on Robby’s hand tightened. You had expected this, so you decided to stand your ground, “I was invited,” you asserted.

“Who would invite you here?” Sam asked with narrowed eyes.

“Sam,” Robby said, in an attempt to calm her down.

It was at this point that her eye’s travelled down to where yours and Robby’s hands were enlaced. “Don’t tell me you’re actually dating this bitch,”

“Sam!” Daniel scolded, and just before an argument could come out, Mrs Larusso arrived, holding trays of food.

“Am I interrupting something?” She asked, her eyebrows raised.

“No, mom. We’re fine,” Sam said, partially through gritted teeth.

**********

There had been evident silence since dinner had started, it was starting to get annoying, how Sam was giving you death glares from across the table. Anthony was doing the same, although he was just probably copying what Sam was doing.

Amanda then decided to break the silence, asking you a question “So, Y/N how did you and Robby meet?”

“We met at the skate park. Robby was tried to do a new trick, but it went wrong and his board ended up flying in my direction, he apologised, we started talking, and...here we are,” you replied, giving her a smile.

“Oh that’s sweet, and from what little Robby has said, you do karate?” she questioned.

“Yeah, I do,” you said, purposefully not saying your dojo’s name - even if Sam and Mr Larusso knew, you wanted to keep the dojo rivalry to a minimum.

“She’s top of her class as well,” Robby added, “She can easily beat me in a fight,”

“Only because you fight dirty,” Sam uttered underneath her breath.

You ignored her, “I wouldn’t say easily,” you protested, “But, yeah I can totally kick your ass,” you said, letting out a small laugh. Sam rolled her eyes

“Wow, that’s really impressive. What dojo do you go to,” Mrs Larusso asked.

“Oh, um, Cobra Kai,” you said, somewhat trailing off towards the end.

“Oh. Okay, is this why this dinner is being so awkward?” she said, and no-one answered, “Obviously it is,” she mumbled.

“Aren’t they the dojo that dislocated Robby’s shoulder?” Louie asked.

“Technically that was just Hawk,” Robby defended.

“Still doesn’t excuse their shitty teaching methods,” Sam said quietly.

Your hand balled into a fist. Her snarky comments were starting to fuel your anger. Robby placed his hand over yours, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles - an action that he knew calmed you, and gave you a reassuring smile.

“Y/N, are you new to town? I can’t recall seeing you anywhere,” Amanda questioned, seemingly ignoring her daughters comments.

“Yeah, I only moved here 6 months ago. My mom got a new job,” you explained.

“Oh, what does you mom do?"

“She’s a real estate agent,” you replied.

“Oh, that’s cool,”

**********

Conversation slowly picked up from there, although that didn’t stop Sam from making remarks. It was like she was trying to get people to think you were a bad person, saying stuff like ‘Dad, I’m glad that you taught me and Robby the right way of karate’.

It was honestly taking a toll on you, you had to work hard to make a good impression, and not act out and make a scene.

“Mom, did I tell you that Moon has a girlfriend now?” Sam asked her mother.

“Oh, that’s lovely,”

“Yeah, it’s this Piper. She’s nice,” she explained.

“Moon is the girl that was dating that Hawk guy?” Louie butted in.

“Yeah,”

“Was she just gay all along then?”

“No, she’s just bisexual,” Sam said, furrowing her eyebrows at Louie’s question.

“Sam, come on. Bisexuality isn’t real,” you fists balled as Louie continued, “People are either gay or straight, you can’t like both, that’s just... unnatural,”

“Fuck this!” You yelled. You rose from your seat, and stormed out of the back yard.

“Louie, what the fuck?” Sam, and Amanda said in unison. Robby sat there glaring at Louie for a few seconds, before standing up to go after you. Daniel put a hand on his shoulder, and muttered an “I’ll go,” and went after you. Meanwhile, Amanda was kicking Louie out of the house, using language she would never use in front of her kids in any other sort of situation.

Daniel ran after you. “Y/N! Wait,”

“What do you want?” you said, wiping tears that had escaped.

“Look, I’m sorry for what Louie said. If it’s any consolation, Amanda is shouting at him, and kicking him out,” he stated.

“You can’t control what he said. It’s not your fault,”

“I know, but I’m still sorry, and I’m also sorry for what Sam has been saying. I know you two have your rivalry...thing, but it shouldn’t have come up,”

“Yeah, thanks,” you nodded.

“You did well for handling it as well as you did, had that of been me, I would’ve thrown hands,” he said, impressed.

“Oh, trust me I wanted to. It just doesn’t give off a good impression if you beat the shit out of the people your boyfriend’s living with,” you chuckled.

“Yeah, well I guess not,” he smiled.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Well like, I’m a part of Cobra Kai. I’ve been in fights with your daughter, I’m not what people call the best ‘influence’ on people. Need I say more?” you said

“I see your point, but Robby trusts you. I’ve seen him improve since you two have been together, he seems happier, and if he trusts you, then I do too,” he explained.

“Thank you Mr Larusso,” you said, smiling at him.

“No problem kid,” he smiled back, “Now, if you want to stay for dessert, we have ice cream,” he offered.

“I think I’d just rather go home, if that’s okay,” you said.

“That’s totally fine, alright? I’ll go get Robby to take you home?”

“Yes please,” you said, “Thank you,”

“Your welcome. I’ll see you soon,”

“Bye”

Robby came out a minute after Daniel had left, and immediately hugged you, “Are you okay?” he mumbled.

“I will be. I just want to go home,” you replied.

“Okay, lets go, yeah?” he asked. You replied by nodding your head, yes.

**********

You and Robby had arrived at your house, and he walked you up to the front door. “Can you stay with me?” you asked.

“Yeah of course,”

You both made your way up the stairs and into your room. You grabbed some comfy clothes, and changed in the bathroom, before coming back to Robby.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asked.

“A little. Can we cuddle?”

He just laid down in your bed, and opened his arms for you to lay in. You positioned yourself in his arms so your head was on his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heart beating.

Robby kissed the top of your head. You shifted your head to look up at him. He kissed your lips.

You knew that this boy would be the death of you.

@blackoutgirx

#robby cobra kai imagine #robby keene x reader #robby keene imagine #robby keene #robby cobra kai #cobra kai fanfic #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai #daniel larusso #sam larusso #amanda larusso #miyagi do

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queenshelby · 3 years

Text

Unexpected Circumstances (Just Friends Part 7) - Cillian Murphy Imagine

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT

Words: 5789

Notes: I have decided to include one of the requests I received in this series as I didn’t know how to best write it as a standalone at this point. I think it makes sense as part of this series as trust between Cillian and the Reader has been clearly established. I might still write a stand-alone piece as well incorporating the same request as this is the sort of Smut I like. So, stay tuned for that!

------

The Letter

It has been five weeks now since Cillian and you admitted your feelings for each other and things were going great.

Some days you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have found a man like him, someone who cared not only for you but also your son Max.

Cillian adored Max and Max enjoyed Cillian’s and Cillian’s children’s company.

Cillian would often pick Max up from preschool when you had to work late and prepare dinner for you and Max. Max thought that this was fantastic since you were a terrible cook.

But, despite this, it was sometimes difficult to arrange dates when you both had children to look after. You both tried to work around this issue as best as you could but, realistically, you only managed to have three sleepovers per week, mostly when Cillian didn’t have his boys. This was when he came over to stay at your house and you always hated when he had to leave.

After all, you were madly in love, a feeling which was unfamiliar to you. You wanted to be around him all the time and whenever you weren’t together you missed him.

As expected, you received some backlash from strangers due to your age gap but you tended to ignore the frustrating comments. They didn’t know you and they didn’t know your relationship.

The comments you received from your friends were nothing but supportive and even your grandmother thought that Cillian was good for you, much unlike your previous partners.

You still haven’t told your parents about your relationship, but your sister was aware. She followed Twitter quite eagerly and loved Cillian’s TV Show hence the reason you told her.

Your sister was concerned that your father wouldn’t approve of your relationship due to the large age gap, but that wasn’t a problem you were ready to face yet and little did you know that you were about to have bigger problems than that coming your way.

Bad news was about to hit you like a freight train. It was 10am on Friday morning. You were working from home while Max was at preschool as the doorbell rang.

It was unusual for the postman to drop off letters personally. Usually that meant that you had to sign for your letters, which was never a good sign.

You thought that it must be a vehicle recall, or notice of some sort. But it was worse. It was a letter from your real estate agent advising you that you will be required to vacate the premises within 30 days.

You could not believe it. It was difficult enough for you to find this townhouse as a single mother in an area where the schools were decent enough. You were always on time with your rent and never missed a single payment. You had no idea why you had to move out.

You called the real estate agent immediately and were advised that the owner is returning from America and requires the premises at the end of the lease term. There was nothing you could do.

The real estate agent advised you that there were no suitable rentals in the area within your price range but that they were willing to give you a good reference should you find something else with a different agent.

You were devastated. The last thing you wanted is to take Max out of preschool just after he made some friends. Furthermore, Cillian’s youngest son was attending the same preschool and it was a perfect arrangement for the both of you.

As you went on with the day, you put your non urgent work aside in order to search for rentals online as, all of a sudden, the doorbell rang.

‘Oh Cillian… I totally forgot’ you said as you opened the door.

‘You forgot our date?’ Cillian chuckled as he walked in the door, giving you a quick kiss.

‘I must be the worst girlfriend’ you said with some embarrassment. You never forgot a date with your boyfriend before. After all, it was what you looked forward to the most.

‘Relax, it’s fine Y/N’ Cillian said before noticing that your face was slightly flushed and your eyes were red.

‘Are you alright though? You look like you’ve been crying’ Cillian said as he ran his hands over both of your arms. He knew that something was wrong.

‘Yes, I just had a very stressful and shit morning. I am alright now though’ you said as you walked into the bedroom to get changed, ready to go out for lunch.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Cillian asked from the hallway.

You took the letter which you received from the real estate agent from the sideboard in the hallway and handed it to him.

‘I’ve just been searching for a new rental but they are either too expensive or out of the area. But, I have found one in North Dublin and the schools there have halfway decent reviews so…’ you explained and, before you could finish your sentence, Cillian interrupted you.

‘The schools here are much better Y/N. I don’t think you should change Max mid-term; it will put him behind’ Cillian said.

‘Don’t you think I know this?’ you asked frustrated. You were still quite upset about having to move.

‘I will lose the enrolment as soon as I move out of area. Despite, I cannot drive backwards and forwards with work. I barely make pickup time now with the hours I am at the office’ you added just as tears began to build up in your eyes again.

‘Common, sit down’ Cillian said as he sat down on the bed next to you and wrapping his arms around you.

‘I might have a solution’ he said as he wiped your tears away.

‘Go on then’ you said, still sobbing.

‘You and Max could move in with me. That way, we could spend more time together and Max won’t have to change preschool and can start year one with Charlie’ Cillian suggested.

‘Move in with you? Cillian, don’t you think it’s a bit too early for that? We have only been together for 5 weeks’ you said.

‘Yes, but we’ve known each other for a few months now. Seems like a perfectly reasonable timeframe’ Cillian chuckled, making you laugh. You knew that he was being sarcastic. He always had a good sense of humour.

‘Coming from the man who just a couple of months ago didn’t want to settle down’ you smiled.

‘Well, that was before I got myself such a beautiful girlfriend’ Cillian said before giving you a passionate kiss. He could taste the saltiness from your tears but it didn’t seem to bother him.

‘You are crazy, you know that’ you chuckled after your lips drifted apart.

‘Well, you do that to me’ Cillian said while cupping your face with both of his hands.

‘We would, however, need to work on your cooking skills’ he added jokingly, earning him a nudge.

‘Very funny’ you said with a laugh.

‘Seriously though, what do you think?’ Cillian asked.

‘I think Max would really love this idea and I would love nothing more than sharing a bed with you every night. I am just worried that you will get sick of me after a while’ you said.

‘I don’t think I could ever get sick of you Y/N. Just your cooking’ Cillian chuckled before telling you that he loved you.

‘I love you too Cilly’ you said before kissing him passionately.

‘Is that a yes?’ he asked.

‘It’s a yes, thank you’ you said before pushing him back onto the bed.

‘The lunch reservation is at 1pm Y/N’ Cillian said as you hoovered over him.

‘Forget about lunch’ you responded just as you threw your t-shirt to the floor.

However, just as you were getting down to business, your phone rang, not once, but twice.

It was Max’s preschool and you knew that it was urgent.

You quickly returned the call and were told that you must pick up Max as he had a fall on the playground.

You got dressed quickly and drove to preschool to pick up Max. You were advised to go to hospital to see whether Max’s arm was broken.

Being cautious, you followed the teacher’s advice and took Max for an x-ray at hospital. Luckily, it was just a sprain which should resolve with some rest. Unfortunately, by the time you got to leave the hospital it was 6pm. You were there for hours.

Cillian suggested that you and Max come over to his place for dinner. You gladly accepted the offer and this allowed you both to talk to your kids about moving in together.

As you told them, they were beyond excited and Max was quick to arrange a sleepover for the following night.

You and Cillian agreed but, for a change, arranged a babysitter to look after your three boys allowing you to go for dinner and to the movies with your friends which was something you didn’t do very often.

Movie Night

The next evening, Cillian’s sister came over to watch the kids. This was the first time you met someone from Cillian’s family and she was quite excited to get to know you.

Apparently, Cillian had told her and his parents about you already.

After you chatted with her for half an hour, you both made your way to the restaurant.

Unfortunately for you, your friends had invited Jeremy, unaware of the fact that he continued to message you daily much to Cillian’s frustration.

Regardless of this, both you and Cillian were polite as you sat down across from Jeremy and your friends.

‘What did you guys do with the kids tonight?’ your friend Amy asked.

‘My sister is looking after them at my house’ Cillian responded.

‘What about Max?’ she asked.

‘Max is at Cillian’s house as well’ you said, which is when your friend Amy slipped the news. You had already told her that you would be moving in with Cillian just before he starts filming again.

‘Oh well, better to get used to it. Living with 4 boys soon Y/N eh? That shall be interesting’ she said.

Her comment quickly raised a lot of questions, in particular from Jeremy.

‘You really are becoming a sugar baby Y/N aren’t you?’ he said sarcastically, causing Cillian to laugh. He tried very hard to take Jeremy seriously, but it was difficult.

‘A sugar baby? Is that even a word?’ Cillian asked.

‘You know what I mean’ Jeremy said.

‘No, please enlighten me’ Cillian responded.

‘Alright’ Cillian chuckled.

‘It’s none of my business Cillian, but why is that you actors have to get involved with women who are so much younger than you?’ Jeremy said.

‘You are right, it’s none of your business Jeremy’ you said harshly while Cillian tried hard to bite his tongue.

Your friends quickly changed the conversation after that but you couldn’t keep your hands of your boyfriend that evening simply to annoy Jeremy and Cillian played along.

‘I am sorry he’s been a tool’ you whispered into Cillian’s ear as you walked to the movies with your friends.

‘I find it very difficult to remain polite around him’ Cillian said.

‘I know’ you responded just as the theatre opened.

You took your seats and, to your frustration, Jeremy sat down right next to you, causing Cillian to get annoyed.

After what Jeremy had said to you and Cillian, you refused to speak to him and largely ignored him until the movie started.

About twenty minutes into the movie, you started to get rather bored. You couldn’t believe that you had to be there for another two hours. Who decided to choose a two- and half-hour movie in French, with subtitles? Of course, you did, without doing any research.

You looked over to Cillian and noticed that he was disinterested in the movie as well and stopped reading the subtitles. It was evident, he was somewhere in dreamland, probably thinking about how he could annoy Jeremy after his most recent insult.

Noticing your boyfriend’s disinterest in the movie, you reached for his hand, running your hand over the top of his gently. You had his attention now and he gave you a warm smile for all you could tell in the dark theatre.

Taking his hand into yours, you guided it on top of your thighs which is where it sat for a while. Not getting the hint, you arched back into your seat and guided his hand further up beneath your loose cotton skirt.

Whilst you couldn’t see much, you noticed Cillian turn his head towards you. Just as he did, you guided his hand further up your thigh while biting your lip. You tried hard for your eyes not to leave the movie screen.

He finally got the hint and squeezed your thigh gently before handing you your cardigan from your bag.

You placed the cardigan across your lap just as Cillian lifted up your skirt slightly beneath it, giving him better access.

You glanced to your right to ensure that Jeremy, who was sitting next to you, didn’t see what Cillian was doing.

Luckily for you, he was intensely focused on the movie although, no doubt, your boyfriend would have preferred if Jeremy knew what you were doing. After all, Jeremy had just insulted him and it wasn’t long before Cillian and you got together, that Jeremy had told him that he would like to get into your panties.

Just as Cillian’s fingers wandered up your upper inner thigh, you released a sigh and parted your legs slightly while making sure that your cardigan provided enough cover.

By the time Cillian’s fingers reached the apex of your thighs and touched your panties, they were already damp.

You were grateful that the theatre was so dark because your skirt was up to the top of your thighs and draped over Cillian’s hand which would otherwise have been clearly noticeable beneath the thin cardigan.

You were panting with desire, just from Cillian stroking and squeezing your thighs and running his hand over your wet panties.

You slid down a bit in your chair and spread your thighs even more. The adrenaline rush had your inhibitions going out the window.

You could hear a slight chuckle from Cillian as he noticed you pushing your body down against his hand.

Just in that moment, you felt his fingers sliding your panties to the side.

Within seconds, he dipped a finger inside your wet entrance, gathering some of your natural lubrication, then moved it upwards toward your clit.

You sucked in a breath through your teeth, hissing quietly. By that time, you both had completely stopped paying attention to the movie.

Cillian started in a slow rhythm, circling your clit a few times, then dipping down shallowly into your entrance, repeating it over and over.

Your fingers were digging into his forearm on one side and onto the armrest on the other.

Your hips were moving of their own accord as you were whimpering quietly as Cillian’s fingers moved in and out of you.

Suddenly, it hit. You groaned quietly, gripping boyfriend’s hand, pushing his finger into you even deeper and grinding your clit against the palm of his hand.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as your orgasm washed over you and you couldn’t help it but let out a shallow moan.

‘Are you alright Y/N?’ Jeremy asked, noticing the sound you made while looking at you with some confusion.

‘Yes, I am fine’ you said bluntly and with a deep breath while Cillian pulled his fingers out of you with a grin on his face.

You handed Jeremy your popcorn before rearranging your skirt and handing Cillian your cardigan. At this point, he needed it more than you as his erection pushed against the zipper of his jeans.

‘Follow me’ you whispered into Cillian’s ear before standing up and excusing yourself, walking past Jeremy.

‘Where are you going?’ Jeremy asked.

‘Bathroom’ you responded. You were still annoyed with him and he wouldn’t get anything from you but stern and short answers.

Cillian waited another minute or two before following you so that he wouldn’t raise any suspicion.

You waited for him in the front of the cinema with a big smile on your face.

‘You choose the worst movies’ Cillian said with a cheeky smile.

‘I have been enjoying it so far’ you smirked before taking his hand and pulling him towards the parents’ room.

‘Y/N, I don’t think this is a good idea’ Cillian said as you locked the door behind you.

‘Relax, it’s 10pm. No one will need this room until tomorrow. We will be safe. Despite, I know you, this won’t go down any time soon unless we get to it’ you smirked as you placed your hands on Cillian’s crotch before crashing your lips onto his with haste.

Without wasting any time, you unbuttoned his jeans and pushed down his zipper before running your hand inside his briefs and stroking his hard cock.

‘You’ve got ten minutes’ you said after breaking the kiss and before turning around, leaning forward over the wash basin.

Within seconds, Cillian lifted up your skirt and pushed down your panties before lining himself up with your wet entrance.

You smiled at him in the mirror as he gently pushed your legs apart and grasped the perky butt cheeks before him.

Cillian pried them apart and stepped forward. He was flush against you and you couldn’t help it but release a soft moan.

His cock slipped between your legs, and the head glided across your sensitive lips.

‘Fuck I want you so much’ you moaned as you pushed back against him in anticipation.

Without words, Cillian pulled back a little and then pushed up into your tight tunnel.

‘Fuck’ you moaned loudly as your walls stretched to fit his length inside you.

‘You got to be quiet’ Cillian whispered from behind you as he began to thrust in and out of you.

He gave you barely a moment to brace yourself before he gripped your hips and pulled back. His cock slipped out almost the whole way before he thrust his hips forward and dived back into your heat.

Cillian set a hard pace, knowing that you didn’t have much time together before someone would get suspicious.

You could hear his laboured breathing behind you as you held onto the basin tightly.

‘God yes’ you moaned quietly as the tip of his cock hit your cervix over and over again.

Cillian smiled at your reaction and reached down to grab your thighs. He spread your legs even wider. By that time, you were on your toes, with no leverage of your own.

‘Don’t stop’ you whispered as you could feel another orgasm build up in your stomach and, within seconds, your walls constricted around him.

You cried out a little too loudly, and your whole body shook as your orgasm slammed into you.

Cillian kept his brutal thrusts up as you rode out the waves of pleasure. Your legs trembled before him and he smiled as you whimpered with every thrust.

The contractions around his cock and your moans sent Cillian over the edge also and, shortly after you came down from your high, he reached his and filled you with his warm cum.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he moaned quietly as he slowly began to relax, his face resting on the back of your shoulders, kissing them gently.

After he came down completely, he pulled out of you and you could feel the mixture of his cum and yours drip down your thighs.

Cillian handed you a paper towel but you declined the offer and simply pulled up your panties.

‘I like to remember this for the rest of the night’ you grinned before giving him another passionate kiss.

Your comment earned you a chuckle but, deep down inside, Cillian liked the thought of knowing that your panties will be wet from his cum for the remainder of the night.

After making sure that no one was around, you left the room together and made your way back to the theatre together.

‘You’ve been gone for a while. Is everything alright?’ Jeremy asked as you sat back down next to him.

‘Yeah, I had to make a phone call’ you said just as Cillian sat back down next to you.

You both had a cheeky grin on your face as you watched the rest of the movie.

‘The movie was great, wasn’t it?’ your friend Alice asked as you left the theatre and Jeremy agreed simply because he knew that you chose it.

‘What did you think about the twist towards the end Cilly?’ she then asked.

‘Yeah, uhm…yeah it was alright’ Cillian said, not knowing what she was talking about.

‘There was a twist?’ you whispered to Cillian as you walked outside the theatre.

‘I think we missed the majority of the plot babe’ Cillian whispered back before taking your hand into his and following the others to the pub.

Jeremy kept starring at you and Cillian and you could notice the frustration on his face. You enjoyed it, a lot.

Later at the pub, Cillian received the usual attention from some young females. It always made you chuckle but it really annoyed Jeremy.

Despite the fact that Cillian enjoyed Jeremy getting annoyed, it soon became too much for him and, after about three drinks, you both decided to leave.

Getting Down to Business

You called a taxi and drove back to Cillian’s house.

‘It’s unbelievable’ you giggled sheepishly and slightly tipsy from the three gin and tonics you had earlier.

‘What is?’ Cillian asked, closing the door behind you.

‘All the attention you get from all of these young women every time we go out’ you said.

‘What can I say, it’s Tommy Shelby Effect’ Cillian laughed.

‘Hmm I think I get it’ you said and, just after this comment, you kissed him passionately just as his sister walked out of the living room.

‘Alright, I am going’ his sister chuckled.

You both thanked her for looking after the children and made your way to the shower. You both smelled like beer and popcorn.

Just as you got into the large shower together and were talking about the evening, Cillian couldn’t help it but complain about Jeremy.

‘You know, I am yours Cillian!’ you said as you ran your hands over his chest.

‘You are mine, are you?’ he chuckled in response to your comment which reminded him on his script for Season 5 of Peaky Blinders.

‘Yes…’ you whispered into his ear just before biting his earlobe gently while the hot water ran down in between you.

Cillian’s hands soon moved from your back down to your naked butt cheeks while his lips kissed the bare skin on your neck.

‘I love you Y/N’ he said in between kisses.

‘I love you too Cillian and I want you to fuck me as if you own me’ you whispered. ‘Take me the way you want to’ you added seductively.

‘You’ve been watching too much of this TV show’ Cillian said with a chuckle, referring to a new TV documentary series that you were watching on Netflix about BDSM.

‘It’s intriguing though, isn’t it?’ you asked running your hands over Cillian’s chest and down in between his legs. He grew hard almost instantly as you touched him.

Your face was inches away from his and you could see pure hunger and lust aflame in his eyes as you were stroking him gently. His warm breath fanned over your face like an aphrodisiac and the want in his eyes was intoxicating.

He remembered the last episode of the documentary quite well and grabbed your hair at the back of your head gently, causing the hot water to run down your breasts.

You bit your lip with excitement, fire building up in your eyes.

‘You really want to try this don’t you?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod.

‘Alright’ he sighed with a smile and, with his free arm, he pushed you onto your knees almost instantly.

That’s it, exactly what you wanted.

He pulled on your hair, making you look up at him while you were biting your lips.

You suddenly felt a wretch in your stomach. Cillian wasn’t normally that forceful with you and you knew that, for him, it was a roleplay more than anything. Being with an actor clearly had its perks.

‘Is this what you want?’ he asked, causing you to nod again.

With his hand still firmly in your hair, he guided your mouth towards his hard cock.

You open your mouth willingly and, within one thrust, the head of his hard cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag.

You didn’t even try to pull away and he slowly and deeply began to thrust in and out of your mouth, giving your barely enough time to breath.

You gave into his rhythm as the warm water was running over your back.

‘God, your mouth feels amazing’ Cillian moaned, knowing that you enjoy it when he is talking to you while were intimate. You loved the sound of his voice.

Just as you got used to the sensation of being forced up and down his cock, he began to tweak one of your erect nipples with his free hand, causing you to moan around him.

‘Good girl, keep going’ Cillian said with a slight smirk as he toys with your nipple, pulling and rolling it between his fingers.

The pit of your stomach was set aflame and your thighs were slick with your juices.

With his cock in your mouth and your nipples being aroused, you are under sensory overload.

As he continued to thrust in and out of your mouth, you closed your eyes trying to concentrate on the raw pleasure that was radiating from your body in waves.

‘Look at me’ he demanded, causing you to open your eyes again and dig your hands into his thighs as he kept going.

‘That’s it’ he moaned, thrusting into your mouth a few more times before pulling you away from his throbbing cock and your mouth comes off with a satisfying pop.

Some small tears were running down your cheeks, your mouth sore from opening so widely and your hair was still in his hands. He roughly wiped away the saliva around your mouth and wrapped his hand around your throat gently.

You looked up into his blue eyes and wanted nothing more than for him to take you, fuck you hard.

‘Common, let’s take this to the bedroom’ he said as he began to notice the water getting cold.

‘Yes sir’ you winked, earning him a chuckle.

‘You defiantly are serious, aren’t you?’ Cillian said as you dried each other off. He was slightly out of his comfort zone but decided to play along as he could see the desire in your eyes. You were by far the most adventurous and kinky woman he’s ever been with.

Moments later, you made your way to Cillian’s bedroom.

‘I don’t think so’ Cillian said firmly as you reached the edge of the bed.

With his hand on your throat gently again and the other on your waist, he guided you towards the large reading desk in the bedroom.

‘Turn around’ he instructed and, as soon as you complied, he pushed you down onto the table.

Just as you your face leaned against the cold wood, he took both of your arms and secured both your hands behind your back.

Electricity shot down your spine as you tried to struggle out of his grasp teasingly.

You were completely under his control just as you wanted.

He put your two wrists wrapped around one hand and with the other, slowly traced a finger up your inner thigh.

You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly.

Cillian took his time, exploring every inch of your thighs and ass.

‘So sexy’ Cillian said as his fingers brushed against your wet folds, causing you to whimper.

He continued to run his fingers up and down your pussy, teasing to put his fingers in.

You whined and struggled against his grasp, your wetness started trailing down your thighs.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as Cillian slowly eased his fingers inside, scissoring his fingers as he went.

‘Shh’ Cillian said, knowing that you had to remain quiet with the boys in the next room.

Your mind went blank as pleasure shot through your nerves, spreading like wildfire.

Cillian’s fingers swirled around inside of you languidly, leaving no space unexplored and, moments later, he brushed against your g-spot causing you to jerk.

‘Stay still’ he said as he pressed his body down, immobilizing yours.

He knew very well that you liked to squirm when he reached your sweet spot as the intensity was too overpowering.

This time, you wouldn’t get away, no matter how hard you try.

‘Oh god Cillian, please’ you yelped, the feeling of his fingers on your g-spot being too much for you to handle.

But Cillian wouldn’t let you squirm away and you soon learned that you had to just give in, surrender to him.

But, just as you relaxed and could feel your orgasm approach, he pulled his fingers out of you.

‘Did I say you could come?’ he teased as he placed his fingers into your mouth, making you taste your wet juices.

‘No sorry’ you said, hoping that he would put his fingers back inside of you.

‘Sorry what?’ Cillian asked sheepishly.

‘Sorry Sir’ you grinned just before you ran your tongue along the length of his fingers.

‘Good girl’ he whispered just as he trailed his fingers back down towards your wet entrance.

Within seconds, they entered you again and continued where they left off.

You tried hard not to come right away and, after several more minutes, you couldn’t control it any longer.

‘Cillian please, can I come?’ you moaned, your walls already beginning to contract around his fingers.

‘No Y/N, you cannot’ he said, withdrawing his fingers once again, pulling your head back on your hair and kissing you passionately.

Just as he pushed you back down, you could feel him line himself up with your entrance.

Your hands were still pinned behind your back as he pressed the tip of his cock into you slowly. Your walls clench instinctively.

‘Don’t you dare come until I’ve given you permission’ he murmured into your ear as he pushes into you torturously slow.

‘I promise I won’t come without permission’ you said as you could feel Cillian’s body against yours and his hands gripping over your hands pinned behind your back and your hair.

‘Good girl’ he whispered as he continued to push inside you slowly until he was completely inside.

You tried to wriggle so you could adjust to his size, but Cillian held you in place. He slowly moved out until only the tip remained inside and thrusts back in deeply.

You moaned loudly into the table as he continued his rhythm, fucking you slowly but deeply. Your mind blanks, pleasure rocking through your body.

You could feel him tighten his grip over your hands as he slowly pulls out and slams into you, eliciting a yelp.

‘Yes, oh god, yes’ you moaned loudly as he began to pick up the pace, knocking you almost breathless.

Your moans caused Cillian to place one of his hands over your mouth gently. You were way too loud.

You felt like a wound-up toy, yearning to be released from the tension. With every thrust, you come closer to your orgasm. He's hitting you fast and deeply, but not enough to send your over the edge. You whine and whimper, weakly struggling against his body. You are so close, teetering on a cliff.

‘Please’ you moaned into his, desperate for your release.

‘Please what?’ Cillian asked as he thrusts in and out of you and removing his hand for just one moment to allow you to speak.

‘Please let me come’ you responded.

‘You will need to do better than that’ Cillian said as he thrusts into you even deeper.

‘I do anything, please’ you moaned, your walls beginning to clench around him.

‘Anything? Hmm, alright, that seems like a fair deal’ Cillian said picking up the speed.

With those words, you let go. Pleasure rocked through your body like a wave.

You tried to fight the feeling of falling and flying at the same time as your orgasm washed over you.

Cillian moaned at the same time as he felt your tight walls close around his cock and, with three more thrusts, he came inside of you.

You could feel his cock throb inside of you as your legs shake from the powerful orgasm.

Just as you both came down from your high, he slowly pulled out of you, causing some of his cum to leak out.

He released your hands and helped you up from the desk.

You turned around to face him and, with one of your hands, you reached in between your legs collecting some of his cum before licking it from your fingers suggestively.

‘I enjoyed this’ you smirked, causing Cillian to stare at you in disbelieve.

‘You are naughty, aren’t you?’ he chuckled just before giving you a kiss.

‘Yes I am’ you smirked before you both made your way to the bed.

By that time you were exhausted.

You curled up in each other’s arms and shared some gentle moments together.

‘I am looking forward to sleeping in this bed with you every night’ you said.

‘So do I’ Cillian responded, before turning off the light.

Morning After

The next morning, you got woken up by the smell of pancakes and three missed calls.

Your father had tried to call you to congratulate Max on his recent soccer medal.

You returned the call and handed the phone to Max while you joined Cillian in the kitchen for a coffee. Just as you were drinking your coffee, you listened to Max speak to his grandfather on speaker.

‘So how have you been Max?’ grandpa asked.

‘Good poppy, we are having pancakes’ Max said.

‘Mum made pancakes? Do they taste any good?’ grandpa laughed.

‘No Cillian made pancakes. Mum and I are moving to his house soon and then we can have pancakes every weekend’ Max said.

‘Cillian? Who is Cillian?’ grandpa asked.

‘Mum’s boyfriend’ Max responded, causing you to choke on your coffee.

‘Can you please put your mother on the phone’ he said.

To be continued…..

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