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starphasedd · 2 years ago

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Unmade

1 - The Prelude

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Rating: 18+ for violence, explicit language, and eventual smut.

Synopsis: "When Din saw the look in your eyes at the sight of the child, he knew he made the right decision coming to you."

Notes: Hiii 🥺 It's been so long since I've had the motivation or inspiration to write. I'm so happy to finally post chapter one of my new works. 💓

This is a new multi-chapter series that will be worth reading, guaranteed. 👌 updates may be slow. But I promise I am working on it. And yes--smut coming soon. In the next chapter ��

Each chapter will have an assigned theme song. Literally just a song I listened to while writing that had me vibing. Name and artist in the notes below. 😊

Word count: 5k +

AO3 | chapter 2

9Aby - Tatooine - Ten months prior to present

It was getting increasingly difficult to find work.

Jobs were getting smaller and less complicated by the day. Some were bigger than others, but nothing compared to what you used to bring in. You've seen everything from small weapons repair, to minor speeder bike maintenance. But for the most part, they were small and low compensating jobs.

You found it hard to afford the essentials anymore. Food, water, toiletries–any base comfort to life. You hadn't had a home cooked meal in months . You ate what you could find or pawn off any wealthy vendor along the streets.

Luckily, you owned your own shop. You were infinitely grateful for that. It meant you had a place to sleep; a roof over your head. Most importantly, a door to close and lock at the end of the night. To keep the thieves and possibly more , out.

Mos Eisley had been attracting people from all over in recent years. You heard of a spice trade running rampant nearby from people in the village, but you always tried to ignore the banter. It was never good to involve yourself with those kinds of things. You made it a personal goal to stay pretty introverted. It was best for you, and everyone around you to not get involved in trivial things like gossip and politics.

It was testing, though. The drugs coming through town had taken a toll on your business.

It makes it hard for you to bring in any credits. Very hard. The criminals were starting to take over, driving all of the families with children out. Not only was it becoming difficult for you to earn any credits, it was making it difficult for you to earn clean credits.

For the longest time, your customer base were family men with speeders, regular weapons used for recreation and such. They were clean, good credits. You could take pride in helping the people of this town. You were contributing to happy and healthy lifestyles. It was relatively wholesome.

It’s not like that anymore.

Outsiders would come in looking for repairs on their weapons, only for you to find out the particular weapons they had in their possessions were registered as stolen. Ninety nine percent of the time, that meant they were previously owned by Imperials and were now being used in some type of crime syndicate. At first, you would turn them away. Even if it meant getting cursed at or losing business. You had options back then. But when more of them started rolling into town, driving the city folk away, you had no choice but to start taking their business. It was survival, at this point.

You laid awake at night, wondering–thinking of ways you could turn everything around. It always came to the same conclusion. You were a defenseless woman, operating a male dominated trade, in a town that was now overrun by criminals.

And you were alone.

You didn't have any family. Or even friends, for that matter. You kept to yourself all these years, solitude being your closest friend.

You did have an acquaintance that worked out of a hangar bay in the spaceport. Peli Motto. She was just that though. An acquaintance . Not a friend. There was something about her that irked you. Maybe it was the righteous part of you that wanted to be pure and good–because she was somewhat of a scammer. But her methods had her eating well every night. She was always at the bar, drinking and having fun. Gambling, all of it. You hated to admit it, but you often found yourself jealous of her.

Not just the scheming way of lining her pockets, but also her mechanical talents. She was definitely gifted in her trade, and she had loyal customers from all over. All of which could be possible clients of yours, but would never set foot in your shop because of her. Sometimes you thought she tried to spoil your name so everyone would come to her–a rotten way to get rotten business.

Day by day, you watched ship after ship land and leave her hangar. It angered you. Stars , it really pissed you off.

That is, until one day, she actually sends someone right to you.

It was incredibly muggy that day, you remember. Your hair stayed damp, sticking to your cheeks and neck. Your clothes clung to your body uncomfortably. Sweat rolled down your skin constantly all day. At some point, you wished you could walk around butt-ass-naked . Anything to escape the heat at this point. You wanted to rip your shirt and pants off to cool down. Even for a little while.

You sat atop an old project speeder bike in the corner of your shop. Some sunshine was able to come through missing pieces in the makeshift metal roof. Part of your shop was a building with one wall knocked down. You kept your personal belongings there. The other half of your shop was relatively open space. The roof was held together by pieces of metal you had found here and there. Most of it was rusted, and broken. Hence the big ray of sunshine that's beaming down on you right now. The floor on the open side of your shop was nonexistent. It was the raw, sandy ground. The floor leading into the closed part of your shop was tile you had laid down a while back. Something to walk on other than the sandy floor.

You tried covering up the brick walls of your shop with old blankets to give it a more 'homey' feel. You thought it may make your customers feel more at ease when they were around. When you had customers.

The speeder was a side project of yours that was slowly becoming your only project. You had always dreamt of owning a speeder for recreation. So, you bought a scrap, hollow shell of one a few years back to work on and restore for yourself. Sadly though, it was now becoming your survival project. You needed to sell it to feed yourself.

Red hued safety glasses shield your eyes from hot sparks that fly up from the soldering iron in your hands. Your fingers glide delicately over the sensitive wires in the ignition chamber of the speeder's engine bay. You’re sitting on the warm leather seat; the top half of your body hunched over in what you can only refer to as a “gremlin looking” position. It should hurt your back, but you were used to it by now. The long term effects lost on you for the time being. The only thing on your mind was getting this machine running so you could sell it and fill your cooling chamber.

Sweat glistens your face, neck and exposed chest as the hot Tatooine suns beam down on you. You have a bottle of water next to you on the ground in case you start to get nauseated. Which happens more frequently than not on this maker forsaken planet.

You reach up to wipe some of the sweat off your forehead with your arm. The heat from the surrounding areas combined with what radiated off the molten wires in front of you was taking a toll on your physical state. Maybe not the best day to do this. One of the hottest reported days in the planet’s history.

You sigh through chapped lips, deciding against starting the next bundle of wires. You lean down, gripping the water bottle with what little strength you had left to bring it up to your lips. You chug, sucking down the entire sixteen ounce bottle in one thirsty gulp. Despite the painfully hot air surrounding you, your water managed to stay relatively cool in the shade of your bike. The liquid runs cool down your throat; coating it in sweet relief for a few moments before you feel it hit the inside of your belly.

You sigh again, sitting up straight on the bike’s seat. You let your head fall back on your shoulders and you close your eyes, resting them for a few moments. Your arms fall limp to your sides, your thighs straddling each side of the hot speeder. The sun beams down on your skin and you can feel the burn starting up again. The red safety glasses also help to shield your eyes from the sun.

Your shop is far enough outside of the main streets that you don’t get all of the city noise, thankfully. Most days, you can sit here and just listen to the quiet noises of the sand and wind. It was relaxing sometimes, and deafening the other times.

So, you sat there for a few minutes. Head back, posture relaxed. Just enjoying the silence for a while.

After a few more minutes, you heard the distinct sound of the main shop door opening. The door was large and made of very flimsy durasteel. The sound of that loud wobbling paired with durasteel scraping on the sand surface was something you didn’t hear very often anymore. This was all followed by heavy footsteps; leather boots clumping lazily over the ground. A large man crested around the corner, looking down at you sitting on your bike.

You glance over at him. He appears human, his whole body brandished with expensive looking weapons. He had short cut hair, blonde in color. His eyes were blue. His skin was pale and freckled. He wore a black leather jacket on top of a black tank top. Both were dirty, and he didn’t seem to care.

A grin spread across his face and chills immediately shot down your spine. Your back stiffened as the large man began sauntering in your direction before he came to a halt in front of you. His thumbs hook in the pockets of his pants on either side.

He nods arrogantly before finally speaking to you.

“They told me a pretty little lady ran this shop. I dn’t believe em.” His accent is unfamiliar to you, his words almost slurring together. Or is he drunk?

He licks his lips once and smiles down at you. His teeth are dirty and unkempt.

You cough and shift away from him, swinging your leg over the other side of the speeder. You take a couple steps back from him, but not too many. As to not set any red flags off in the man's head. Your hand reaches up to push the red glasses onto the top of your head. You squint when the sun hits your sensitive hues. After pushing your glasses up, your hands slide back down to your waist and lock onto your hips.

Usually with these types of guys, you choose a more aggressive approach. You would immediately tell them to get lost, or chase them out. But, something is different about this one. He seems…off. Unhinged, maybe? Something about his demeanor screams at you. You’re uneasy.

You’re playing it safe this time. Just…see what he has to say.

“Guess I’m that lady,” You say sweetly, a very fake smile cresting your cheeks. You pretend to be busy, shifting around to pick up some useless spare parts hanging around. “How can I help you?”

His breathing is a little heavy, you notice. And that scares you. That hints at something unstable within him.

He takes his hands from his pockets and flattens his palms on the fabric, rubbing them up and down to dry them of the sweat he’s exuding on this hot day. He grins again and shifts to follow you when you opt to start walking into the shaded part of your shop.

“Need a piece of equipment fixed.” He says plainly, directly behind you.

There’s a tall, bar-like table to the left of your shaded space. Behind the bar-esque table is storage for your customers' weapons. You walk behind the bar, and he follows around to face you from the other side. Thank the maker. Breathing room.

“What kind of equipment?” You ask innocently.

The man reaches behind him and pulls a large rifle from his back. He drops it down on the counter in front of you.

You grab it softly, pulling it closer. Your fingers wrap around each end to bring it up for a better view. A knot is tightening in your gut. As you thought; an illegal weapon. Again. This one in particular is especially heinous.

A T7 Ion Disruptor. A rifle banned by the New Republic.

You clear your throat, slowly setting the weapon back down on the table in front of you. You glance up at the man through your lashes. He’s still grinning at you, shifting weirdly on his feet. Back and forth.

“I’m sorry. I can’t work on this.” You say, slowly pushing the rifle back towards the man.

You know there’s trouble when he stops shifting from side to side, and his grin slowly fades. He huffs, slapping his hands back down onto the weapon and pushing it back to your side of the counter.

“I’ll pay ya, No questions asked.” He says, his blood shot eyes boring into your face.

Your heart is starting to race, goosebumps covering the skin of your arms as the situation slowly starts to escalate. You’ve seen this desperate type of behavior before. Especially here. Especially now. The spice coming into town has corrupted many people here. The crime syndicates were always looking for better weapons. But they would only buy if the weapons were in working condition. Addicts would find these illegal rifles and bring them to you, desperate to have them fixed so they could go sell them to the syndicates. All to get their next week's fix of drugs. You feel for these people, you really do. This is a way of life for them. This is how they survive. You wish you could help, but you can’t put yourself under the radar of any crime syndicate.

“--’m sorry. I can’t. This rifle is banned by the New Republic.” You say softly, pushing the rifle back towards the man.

His breathing has increased; it’s loud and almost rabid now. He’s sweating and twitching. He stands there for a moment, staring at you. And without any notice, he violently slams both hands down on the table and shoves the rifle at you. It hits your lower stomach. Your heart drops into your belly.

“I don’t care if it’s fuckin’ banned by the New Republic. I need it fixed–” He says, leaning over the counter. His hot breath is fanning your face as he grunts. “ Now .”

He’s huffing heavily through his nostrils. Sweat is dripping down his cheeks and dropping on the weapon below him. His fingers are twitching on the wood countertop, and his eyes are wide. They’re bulging out of his head, red and bloodshot. The skin around his eyes is dark and almost hollow.

You let a soft, shaky breath escape your lips as you struggle to find the courage or words to confront him. And he doesn’t move, doesn’t give you a chance to respond. He just…waits.

You’ve experienced men like him before, but never this violent. Most men that came in here were trying to get a rise out of you. Always something to say. They always thought they could take advantage of you; overpower you. But you pride yourself on your courage and cunning. You never let them get to you.

This was different, though. This man is explosively violent and unstable.

He’s desperate . That scares you the most.

You struggle to find words as fear settles into your skin. Your hands drop below the counter to a shelf underneath. He doesn’t notice, as he has his eyes fixed on yours. Your nimble fingers begin to wrap themselves around an emergency blaster you have hung under the counter.

Finally, as your fingers secure defense, you muster the courage to speak.

“I can’t ,” You exhale slowly, finger tightening on the trigger of the blaster.

The man exhales hard, fingernails starting to scratch into the wood surface below his palms. He leans up slightly, letting his chest have room to inhale so he can speak.

“ You little bitch ,” He starts, but he’s cut off.

“Is there a problem here?” An unfamiliar voice rings in. It’s modulated, almost like it came from a droid.

It startles the both of you. In unison, the two of you shoot your heads in the direction of where the voice came from.

In the entrance of your shop stands another man, and your heart sinks even more.

He’s tall and covered in armor. The armor is all different colors, worn and damaged from much use it seems. He also has weapons brandished all over his body. He has brown boots on, strapped with bombs of all kinds. He has a dark brown flight suit underneath. Every important part of his body is covered by the worn armor.

When you get to his head, you immediately recognize what he is.

A Mandalorian. A distinct helmet.

He stands tall and confident. He has broad shoulders, and large arms.

Your fingers are still locked on the trigger of your blaster as you struggle to tear your eyes from the Mandalorian standing in your doorway.

The man in front of you grunts and shifts to stand up to his full height. He shuffles before turning back to look at you.

“I’m almost done with her,” he starts, before shooting around the left side of the counter at you. As he’s coming around, he’s speaking. “ You can have her when I’m done .” He growls out, sweaty and vicious hands grabbing for you as he breeches the left side of the counter. He’s moving so fast it’s hard for you to process. You don’t fully register what’s going on, not really. All you can see is his large, looming figure coming at you at lightspeed. All you can hear are the quick shuffling of his feet and he charges you.

Instinctually, you bring the blaster out from under the counter and point it towards him as he charges you.

But as soon as you brought the blaster out, the man was shot down. A red beam of plasma blasts past and so close to your head the wind gust from it causes your hair to fly up and over your head.

Not a sound comes from the man as he falls to the ground. He thuds loudly, loose limbs hitting the ground after his back. You’re still holding the blaster up in defense, almost like you’re stuck there. Your heart is racing out of your chest and your breathing is slightly elevated. It takes you a few seconds to fully register what just happened. You finally let your arms drop slowly.

You look down at the blaster in your hands, watching your trembling fingers grip the cold durasteel. Your skin is white from gripping the weapon so hard. Your head is dropped, preoccupied, as the Mandalorian slowly approaches the counter.

“Are you alright?” The man asks softly.

It startles you out of your stupor and you look up, seeing the Mandalorians’ hulking figure standing in front of you. He’s even bigger when he’s up close.

You softly set the blaster back in its place under the counter and look up at the Mandalorian.

“Yeah...” You mutter softly, confusion evident in your tone. You look down at the dead man on your floor. “ Maker. ..why would he just…?”

“Exactly why you think.” The Mandalorian speaks. His voice is deep and weathered through the vocoder.

You glance up at him, eyes searching the T-visor of his Beskar helmet.

“Apologies. I heard the whole thing.” He says.

You look from the Mandalorian in front of you, back to the body on your floor once again. You stare at it as you speak.

“Another victim of spice addiction.” You say softly, your tone caressed by a tinge of sadness.

The Mandalorian silently nods his head, his hands coming down to grip the buckle on his belt.

After a few moments, you can hear him shift, grabbing ahold of the Ion Disruptor on the counter. You turn to look back at him and watch as he examines the weapon with diligence. His helmet tilts with the weapon, and his gloved fingers glide delicately over the durasteel.

“Could I take this off your hands?” he asks after a few moments of examining the weapon.

“ Please take it.” You say, a soft smile on your cheeks.

His helmet turns to look over you for a few seconds, like he’s examining you now.

“How much?” He asks.

“It’s yours. No charge.” You say, letting your hands rest on the counter. Your blood is starting to cool, and you’re not trembling anymore.

He looks down at you again and nods, throwing the heavy weapon behind him to sit with some of his others. “Thank you.”

You can’t help the cheeky smile that crosses your face. Your cheeks start to burn. You shift to cross your arms over your chest. “Any particular reason you ventured into my shop, Mandalorian?”

He nods. “I could use your help repairing something.” He says, reaching into a bag on his side. He pulls out a hyperdrive ignition key and gently sets it on the table. He shifts his hips to lean on the other side. “Peli Motto told me you’re good with old ships.”

“Peli Motto? She sent you to me ?” You ask, astonished at the man's words as you lean down to get a better look at the hyperdrive part.

“Not a friend of yours?” He asks, watching you examine the part.

You huff. “Not exactly.” You say nonchalantly, sliding your fingers over the delicate part. “She couldn’t help you?”

“No. She said you’re pretty well versed with electrical failures. On older ships.”

You glance up at him for a moment and chuckle. “Interesting.”

“Don’t usually get referrals from her, I take it?”

“Never. She’s the reason I never have business, if I’m honest.” You say softly, leaning back up and putting your hands on your hips.

He cocks his head to the side gently and watches you.

His gaze is deep, and silent, as he watches you. You find yourself fidgeting with the hem on your hips.

“I..uh, can fix this. Easy. Shouldn’t take me more than an hour.”

He nods, and you take that as your que to get to work.

It takes you forty three minutes, actually. One of the quickest jobs you've had in a while. It was a relatively easy fix. The Mandalorian stood and watched you the entire time, intrigued by your knowledge of the machinery.

"Razor Crest, right?" You ask.

"Yes. How can you tell?"

"This hyperdrive ignition design was used on most pre-imperial ships. But, this one has a significant trait that ties it to the Razor Crest, and the Razor Crest alone ," you say, using a finger to draw him in close by pointing down at the part.

"This is air cooled. See the little chamber here?" You ask, pointing to a small, empty glass chamber in the middle of the device. "Like any other part on a ship, this can get hot. So it's got a pocket of air that feeds directly into the ignition pump, that sends fuel to the thrusters."

He watches you.

"The Razor Crest was the first and last ship ever to have a glass chamber for the hyperdrive ignitions. Afterwards, they were all Durasteel chambers. Easier, cheaper. The glass chambers had so many issues with cracking and leaks, that they immediately discontinued the design. And went for something more durable."

He watches as you slowly pull out the glass chamber and set it aside.

"We'll replace the glass with some durasteel, and you'll be all good to go." You say with a soft smile.

The Mandalorian stands over you, continuing to watch in silence as you make a small durasteel chamber by hand, and fit it to the hyperdrive ignition.

"You're very knowledgeable." He speaks, his voice low and scratchy.

You glance up at his visor for a moment and shoot him a quick smile before looking back down at your work.

"I'd hope so, otherwise I'm in the wrong profession."

A loud click indicates that the durasteel piece is back in place. You gently slide it towards him once you do your final examination.

"You're all set." You say with a smile, hands resting on the counter in front of you.

It's dark out now. A small bit of moonlight shining in through the holes in your makeshift roof. Fairy lights and small cantina lamps light the space around you, painting everything in a soothing orange hue.

The Mandalorian gently grabs the part from your counter and slips it into his satchel.

"What do I owe you?" He asks.

You think about it for a moment; hard. And then you glance over at the lifeless body of the attacker on your floor.

"Nothing." You say, still staring at the body.

He pauses, seemingly confused. "I don't understand."

"No charge today.” You say, looking back up at him and nodding towards the body–hinting.

He takes a deep breath in, this chest rising steadily as he shifts on his feet again.

You offer him another warm smile. “A token of my gratitude.”

His chest falls after a few moments and his helmet turns to look around your shop. He hadn’t had time to until now.

"Your kindness will not be forgotten." He speaks gently.

You smile. "Nor will yours, Mandalorian. Safe travels."

He stands there for a few moments longer than you anticipated, almost like he's thinking. Then he nods and turns to slowly make his way out of your shop.

You thought that would be the last time you saw him. You were wrong.

It was probably a month later when he came back.

It was another hot day. You chose to take the day off, this time. You sat in your bedroom which was closed off from the rest of the building by a large blanket hanging in the doorway. Your room looked like every other building on Tatooine. The walls were crafted of sandy colored pourstone, rounding at the top. A large window on the left lets in plenty of natural sunlight to illuminate the room. There’s just enough space for your bed. You keep a small, single person table and chair directly under the window, where you sit and eat your breakfast every morning.

You’re sitting under the window drinking some caf when you hear the door to your shop open. You stop what you’re doing and listen to see if the person approaches your counter. Heavy footsteps lead directly to the enclosed part of your shop. Quickly, you set your cup of caf down and shuffle to meet the customer out in the open area.

When you shove the blanket out of your way, you’re surprised to see the same Mandalorian from a month earlier standing in your workshop. His appearance is different though. Before, he only had the Beskar helmet. The rest of his armor was pretty old and worn. But today, he appears to you in nothing but pure Beskar armor. From head to toe. He looks clean, and well put together. Shiny.

You rub your hands together and smile softly as you approach him. His helmet follows you as you walk over on the other side of the counter.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here again.” You say softly.

The Mandalorian nods, his hands looped in the buckle of his belt like the last time you saw him.

"What brings you back, Mando?” You ask. The nickname slips, but it suits him.

“Are you looking for work?” He says, his voice smooth through the vocoder.

You tilt your head to the side a little, slightly confused. “Pardon?”

“I could use your help,” He starts, his hands coming up to rest on the counter top. “...maintaining my ship and…” he starts, but trails off and he reaches behind himself to shift his shoulder bag to the front. When he does, he lifts the cover to reveal something extraordinary to you. “..with this.”

He reveals a small, green baby. It’s wrinkled, and has pointed ears. Big brown eyes look up at you in wonder as your mouth gapes. It coos softly, tilting its head to one side as it observes you.

“ Stars ….what the hell is that?” You stutter over your words as you lean down to gently pull the baby from the satchel. It coos again, happily, as you pick it up.

“I've been bequested to bring him back to his kind.” Says the Mandalorian.

“H-how did this happen?” You ask, eyes focused on the little green baby in front of you as his claws grip your hands on either side.

“It’s a long story,” He starts, watching you observe the baby carefully. “I can’t watch him and I need to continue hunting to fund this quest,” He says softly.

You glance up at him for a moment. “And you…came to me? Why?”

“He needs supervision, I can’t leave him alone.” He swiftly bounces around the why part of your question.

You look from him, back down at the baby. The baby watches you with wide, curious brown hues. His mouth gapes open so show small, jagged teeth underneath. One of his hands comes up to touch your chin softly.

There's an odd feeling that comes over you when he makes those little noises. The way he seems to smile, and immediately warm up to you.

“I can pay you handsomely.” The Mandalorian speaks after a few minutes of silence.

You glance back up at Mando through your lashes, he’s closer now than he was before. You’re slowly cuddling the green child into your chest as he seems to settle right into your warmth. One arm is under his bottom, and the other is behind his back to hold him firm against you.

You start to say something, but no words come out. A breath of air sneaks through as you lock onto his T-visor.

You shake your head, looking back down at the child. “M-my shop? How will…? I can’t just leave..?” You mumble out.

“Peli agreed to look over it,” Mando says.

You look back up at him once again, softly rubbing your hand over the baby’s back.

“Peli ? Now I'm confused.”

“She proposed using it for storage.”

You click your tongue, looking down at the child as he lays comfortably against your chest. “Of course she did.”

“You’ll have plenty to keep you busy aside from the child. My ship is old,” He says, his tone softening. A gentle approach. “...it always needs work.”

You look up at Mando for what feels like the hundredth time. He stands tall over you, his broad shoulders blocking the sunlight behind him. His posture is serious; stern. This is important to him. You find your eyes needlessly searching for him under the T-visor, though you know you’d never find him.

“Okay…” You speak softly, just under your breath. Almost like you didn’t mean to say it.

“Yeah?” He asks, his shoulders slouching a bit; relaxing.

“Yeah, okay.” You say again, this time it was louder. Like you were reaffirming it. Like you needed to hear your own voice to register you had just agreed. The baby in your arms coos softly in your warmth.

The Mandalorian nods, clearing his throat softly. “Thank you.”

Though he wouldn’t admit it, he was nervous. You tell by the softness in his tone; a stark difference from what you had heard before. He was out of his comfort zone here, dealing with a child. You understood why he came to you now. He was familiar with you, and trusted you wouldn’t turn him down. He just needs help and guidance in this uncertain time for him.

“I’ll go grab a bag.” You say softly, looking down at the baby in your arms.

As you walk through the blanket that covers your private quarters, Mando can hear you whispering to the child in your arms. “ Wanna come with me, sweet boy? ” Your tone is soft and motherly, unlike what he had heard when you were dealing with that spice addict a month ago.

When he saw the look in your eyes at the sight of the child, he knew he had made the right decision coming to you.

‐-------

Chapter theme: With Love From - Aly & AJ

#din djarin #the mandaloria/reader #the mandalorian #star wars #din djarin x you #mandalorian and grogu

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avengerscompound · 1 year ago

Text

The Interview - Chapter 11

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating: E

Warnings: smut (FM, oral sex, vaginal sex)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count: 3557

Summary: Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America. Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

Chapter 11

Road trips were a make-or-break test for relationships, right up there with unplanned pregnancies and trips to Ikea. For Melody and Steve, it had felt like a breeze. Steve had taken the role of driver and despite being a little fast and loose with the speed limit, he’d stopped at various roadside stores to buy preserves, maple candy, and apple cider donuts. Halfway there they’d stopped at a tavern for lunch, filling up on burgers, fries, and house-made cider before hitting the road again. The fall foliage was in full form, and the whole trip was colored in reds, oranges, and golds.

By the time they arrived at the large colonial mansion bed and breakfast, Melody was ready to stretch out, relax, and enjoy her weekend with Steve. They were shown up to their room in the mansion’s tower and Melody stretched out on the fourposter, bed picking at some leftover donuts, while Steve unpacked.

“So what’s the plan for the weekend,” she asked. “I mean - aside from the romantic setting for our -” she made a circle with her thumb and index finger on one hand and poked her finger in and out of it.

He started laughing as he watched her. “Oh good lord,” he joked. “Did I make a mistake?”

She laughed with him, falling back on the mattress. “But seriously? Are we just going to stay inside all weekend? Or did you want to go do things? Antiquing maybe? Or as you might like to call it - buying era-appropriate items.”

Steve looked at her, trying not to laugh. “Oh that’s it!” he said and ran over, jumping on top of her and tickling her sides. She squealed and writhed under him as his fingers moved on her sides.

“Steve!” she squealed. “Stop!”

His hands slowed and he leaned in, capturing her lips. What started as frantic and silly tickling, quickly turned into a slow and deep makeout session. Steve’s hands moved up her sides and she ran one of hers into his hair. Her body practically vibrated in anticipation under him, like an electrical current ran under her skin.

He pulled back slowly and smiled at her. “I actually wouldn’t mind going antiquing. I lost everything from back then and it would be nice to have some things in my house that remind me of my mother, even if they aren’t hers. But I’d also like to find a drafting table. And I like antique radios.”

“Really?” Melody asked, putting her hands on his chest and guiding him off her so she could sit up.

“Yeah,” he said. “They’re just - I like how they look. And I guess they probably remind me of being young and sitting on the fire escape with Bucky listening to the baseball.”

“Then let’s do it,” she said. “I can’t really afford antiques, but you never know, maybe I’ll find a gem while we’re out.”

He pecked her lips and stood back up. “It’s fun to just look, and honestly I’m just looking forward to having a slow weekend with you. I don’t take a lot of time for myself.”

“Mmm… me either,” Melody agreed. “Though no one works as hard as Bobbi does. I don’t care who it is.”

“Yeah, Bucky said that it’s hard to lock her down,” Steve said as he went back to unpacking. He stopped and looked at her, grimacing slightly. “She does like him, doesn’t she?”

“Oh yeah,” Melody said quickly. She felt guilty on behalf of her cousin. Not that Bobbi could help that she was busy or that she was nervous about coming out as trans to a guy she was really into, but Melody knew that Bucky had his own demons and that feeling of being not enough would hit him particularly hard. “She is super into him.”

She paused. Now would be the perfect time to bring up the topic with Steve and test the water about whether Bucky would be accepting of the fact that the woman he was seeing was trans. She missed her chance though, because Steve seemed so relieved that Bobbi was definitely into Bucky he was talking again.

“Phew,” he said, doing an elaborate wipe of his brow. “He’ll be happy to know that. I really want them to work out, I’d hate for things to be awkward if we stay together and they break up. We should go on a double date with them when we get back. Hey, if you know anyone for Sam, maybe we can go on a triple date.”

Melody laughed. It was unusual to get to see that kind of rambling relief in Steve. He was obviously as invested in the whole Bucky and Bobbi situation as Melody was. “Hmm… I might,” she said, going through the list of names of people she knew in New York that might be well-matched to the Sam Wilson. “Is he into men? Women? Gender is a construct that serves as no indicator of his attraction to a person?”

Steve raised his eyebrow. “Ahh… you know what? I don’t know. I’ve never known him to date anyone. I’ll ask.”

“I bet when you ask, he’ll just try and duck the question so he doesn’t get set up with a stranger,” Melody teased.

Steve laughed. “That’s likely true.” He paused for a moment as he put his jacket on a hanger. “I liked that about gender being a construct. I’ve never really thought about it too much before, but I think that’s me.”

“Yeah?” Melody said, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Have you ever dated a man or someone off the binary?”

He shook his head. “No. But to be fair, I can count how many people I have dated on one hand.”

“I’m the same in case you’re wondering. And I’ve been out with a spectrum. People are probably more open to questioning their gender these days than back when you grew up,” she said.

“Yeah, I’d say that’s very true. I like that that’s the world we live in these days. It definitely didn’t feel safe to question things back then,” he said.

“Do you think you would have - questioned things if you had the space to?” Melody asked.

He came over and sat down beside her, furrowing his brow. “I - I don’t think so. If anything I was always pretty intent on proving that I was a man. I found it hard not being as masculine as others thought I should be - or even I thought I should be. I felt more at home in my body after I had the serum. Like it reflected who I saw myself as.”

She took his hand and played with his fingers, tracing along them with her fingertips. His hands dwarfed hers and she pressed her palm against his, looking at the difference in size as she thought. “I have a question - and I’m not sure how to phrase it.”

Steve looked at her with his head tilted. “Then it might be best not to worry about how it sounds and just say it.”

She took a deep breath. “Bobbi’s taking things slowly with Bucky. Partially it’s just because of work. She is super busy with work. She works seven days a week, and sometimes she’ll finish one job and go right to the next one. Partially it’s because of Bucky. She knows he’s been through hell and she wants to make sure he feels safe with her.”

“That’s really good. I mean I know he wishes she had more free time, but I’m glad he’s seeing someone who’s letting him figure things out. This is the first time he’s been interested in anyone since - well…” Steve explained.

She nodded in understanding. “I get it,” she said. “There is more though. And I brought this up because she asked me to. She might not seem it, but she's vulnerable and a little scared. The thing is, Bobbi’s trans. She likes Bucky a lot, but she's had guys show interest in her before and when they've found out, they've gotten violent with her. I offered to run all this by you. You know Bucky better than anyone, if he finds this out - is she safe?”

Steve stared at her in shock. “Wow. I had no idea,” he said. “I - uh - I’m sure she's safe. I couldn't imagine Bucky being so insecure about that, he'd attack someone. Plus, he does really like her, he wouldn't hurt someone he liked. If you wanted to know if it was a deal-breaker for him - I wish I could firmly say it wasn't, but I don't know. That's not something we've ever spoken about.”

“Yeah, sadly we live in a world where you can never know even if people do talk about it,” she agreed.

“I can ask him or gently let him know…”

Melody shook her head emphatically. “Please don't. She'll want to do it herself even if he does reject her. She just wanted to make sure she was safe first.”

“I am sure she'd be safe with him. I'm sure of it,” he said.

“Thanks, Steve,” she said, kissing his cheek.

He took a deep breath and clapped his hands on his thighs. “Well, after all that, I think I want to get in the shower and wash the road off me,” he said, standing up.

Melody hooked her finger in his back pocket and tugged on it. “Want some company?”

He looked surprised at the suggestion, and his eyes flicked from the bathroom door down to Melody. “Sure. That would be nice.”

She followed him into the bathroom and the two stripped down. It was the first time they’d seen each other naked, and as the water warmed they took a moment to appreciate each other. Melody’s eyes slid up and down Steve’s body. She had always known he was bigger than her but there was something about seeing him naked while she was exposed too, that seemed to highlight just how much bigger than her he was. His skin was flawless, not a single line or pore marked him. It was like he was carved from marble and if Melody didn’t know from experience, she would have thought he’d be hard to the touch. He was muscular in a way that most men needed to be dehydrated to achieve and his body hair was fine and blond.

It was his cock that held her attention. Even in its flaccid state, it was intimidatingly large. He was uncut, just like he said, and a thick vein stood out, running right down the shaft. It was a little intimidating and she worried that when he was hard, he wouldn’t even be able to fit inside her.

“Come on,” Steve said, offering her his hand. She took it and let him lead her into the warm water.

He grabbed the washcloth, squeezed shower gel onto it, and began to slowly and tenderly wash down her body. She relaxed under the warm water, letting herself just enjoy the gentle touch of this perfect man. He crouched in front of her and ran the cloth down the sides of her legs and up between them. She shivered slightly, and wetness formed between her legs that had nothing to do with the water that was cascading down over her body.

When he finished, he stood, and she took the cloth from him, washing him as he had just washed her.

She carefully trailed the washcloth over his body, and as she did, his cock began to harden. It twitched and jumped as her hands moved closer to it and she looked up at Steve, meeting his gaze. His normally pale blue eyes were blown out black with lust, and as her fingertips ever so gently teased down his shaft, he gave a small nod.

Taking it as permission, she dropped to her knees and braced her hands on his hips. He still wasn’t fully hard yet, but up close she was even more intimidated by the size of him. She flattened her tongue and slowly ran it up the length of his shaft. He groaned and braced his hands on the shower wall, letting her take complete control. Her lips stretched wide as she began to suckle on the head, and licked over it, collecting up a drop of precome that had formed on the head.

“God, look at you,” Steve groaned.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his and she pushed her head down, his cock filling her mouth as she forced him down. She wanted to take as much of him as possible but it felt like she’d barely even made it down his shaft before the head of his cock seemed to be pressing up against the back of her throat and making her gag.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Steve praised, his eyes still trained on hers.

She didn’t want to go easy. She wanted to test all her limits with him, she kept pushing him down further with each bob of her head. Drool pooled in her mouth and dripped down her chin as she choked on his cock. The deeper she took him the louder he moaned, until the sound of it and the wet choked noise of her deep-throating him. She used her hand to stroke what she couldn’t fit in her mouth, his shaft was so thick her fingers couldn’t even touch when she wrapped her hand around it.

“God, Mel. ‘M close,” he moaned.

Melody pushed him down deep, cutting off her oxygen, and looked up at him with soft eyes. He groaned louder and his thigh muscles tightened and with a shudder he came, pulsing in her mouth. She swallowed everything she gave him, the tart salting fluid filling her mouth.

She slowly pulled off and Steve took a moment to gather himself, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. When he seemed to recover a little, he helped her to her feet and crouched in front of her. He nosed at her cunt as she tangled his finger in his hair. Without warning, he lifted her, putting both her legs on his shoulders, as he stood with his face buried in her folds. She gasped and leaned back on the shower wall, bracing herself with her hands and gripping the top of the shower to steady herself. Steve lapped and sucked at her pussy, seeming to pay close attention to every shiver and sounds she made. Each time she moaned he focused on the point that set her off, until he was focused directly on her clit, suckling at it and running his tongue over the top. She had never felt anything like it. He seemed to be so intune with her body, that every flick of his tongue sends a current right through her. That paired with the adrenaline surging through her from being held aloft, was making her feel weak, lightheaded, and like every one of her nerves was lit up.

Heat coiled in her stomach like a snake, and then burst through her, taking hold of her whole body, she cried out and dug her heels into Steve’s shoulders as her orgasm crashed through her. Steve continued to lick her through it like he was trying to drink her up. As her body settled, he helped her down again and helped her rinse off.

He shut off the water and as soon as they each had a towel wrapped around them, Steve lifted her bridal style.

“Steve!” she yelped as he carried her back into the bedroom.

He chuckled and set her on the bed. “Did you want to stop?”

She shook her head. “Not on your life.”

His eyes twinkled and he leaned down, his face held just in front of hers. “I thought you would say that,” he said and brought his lips to hers. She kissed back passionately, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and trying to pull him down on top of her.

“Just give me a second,” he whispered against her lips.

She let him go and he went and grabbed a condom and lube. He rolled the rubbed down over his cock, and approached her again, liberally coating his shaft with the thick gel. Melody watched him closely. Her eyes were locked on his cock again, and she started to worry about being able to take him again, or him hurting her without meaning to.

He climbed up between her legs and kissed her stomach. “Just relax,” he soothed as he pushed two fingers inside of her. He curled them, stroking them over her internal walls, and teasing them over her g-spot. With the added lubrication on top of how wet she already was, his fingers made a graphic squelch as he moved them inside her and focused on that sweet spot inside her. Melody had only really just come down from her orgasm, and another was quickly building again, making her legs tremble and her thigh muscles pull tight.

“Oh, god, Steve, please,” she begged.

“Hold it,” he growled.

She looked up at him, startled by the deep growl in the order. He was watching her closely and he eased a third finger inside her. He moved them in and out curled them as he corkscrewed his wrist, dragging his knuckles over her g-spot. She cried out and bucked up under him, her back arching off the bed.

“How does that feel?” he asked, as he spread his fingers, adding a burn to the full feeling of his fingers inside her.

“Fuck, so good, Steve, please,” she begged.

“I’m no bigger than that,” he said, removing his fingers. “You can relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She was so worked up, that she didn’t even care if it did hurt anymore. She just wanted to feel him inside her. She sat up, wrapped her arms around his shoulder, and pulled him down on top of her, kissing his neck as she did. “Please, Steve. I need it.”

He took one of her hands and wrapped her fingers around his cock as he lined the head up to her entrance. “You’re in control,” he said, as he looked into her eyes. “Guide me in.”

She moaned softly, and her cunt clenched around nothing. “Okay,” she breathed.

He slowly pushed in, letting her guide him, setting both the pace and depth. Her eyes fell closed and her head fell back. There was the burn at her entrance as he stretched her open, but it didn’t feel bad exactly, and he was going so slowly it allowed her to adjust to him.

He reached a spot inside her where there was a sharp sting and she stopped him and pushed him back slightly, easing it off again. “There?” he asked

She nodded. “Yes. No more than that.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

She knew he did. She trusted him completely. She knew she was safe with him. Not just here in bed, but everywhere. He was everything she had ever wanted in a partner. Her hands went to his jaw and she pulled him down into a kiss as he began to thrust.

He kept alternating the speed of his thrusts, going from a gentle pleasant rhythm where Melody could feel the way his cock moved along the ridges of his cunt, to just pounding into her, so all that she could do was hold on and hope she didn’t break apart. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before and just when she thought that there was nothing she would ever experience that could ever make her feel this good again, he started to rub her clit.

It sent her tumbling over the edge. Her orgasm tore through her like wildfire, setting her alight. She cried out and clung to Steve as her hips bucked up hard under him. “Oh fuck, Steve,” he mewled as he continued to thrust into her. “Please. I want to feel you.”

He pressed his face into her neck as his hips began to stutter. She tangled her fingers into his hair, holding him there as she felt the pulse of his cock as he neared his release. With a deep moan, his hips jerked, and he came inside her.

She hummed and held him as his hips slowed. She felt slightly high and overstimulated. When Steve finally slipped from her, it was a relief, and yet she felt achingly empty and wanted him inside her again. He rolled onto his back, and she curled in against him, putting her head on his shoulder and looking up at him. “Holy hell, Steve,” she sighed. “That was worth the wait.”

He chuckled. “Thank you,” he said. “I think so too.”

“I know we haven’t eaten yet, but I feel like I need a nap and a cigarette after that, and I’ve never smoked a cigarette in my life.”

He laughed harder and kissed her. “Let’s just relax for a bit. There’s time before we have to decide if we go out to eat.”

She hummed and closed her eyes as Steve took off the used condom and tossed it in the trash. The weekend away was off to the best of starts and she knew she was going to enjoy the rest of it.

// NEXT

#marvel #avengers #marvel fanfic #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #captain america #captain america fanfic #steve rogers x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #ofc #smut #the interview

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my-head-is-an-animal · 2 years ago

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It's Not A Game If It's Real

Okay, so I know what this looks like, I know how it looks, it was supposed to be a one-shot, but ya gal just can't stop writing! So here's the masterlist for when another chapter is written. Can't guarantee there will be much story, but hey, let's not lie to ourselves, plot is just secondary at this point.

Orson Krennic x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI, Smut

Chapter 1

The first assignment you had and you would be leading a whole department. What a great fucking night this would be!

More than that, it was a great excuse for you to wear the most beautiful thing you owned, a floor length black dress, a slit that ran all the way up your thigh, a halter neck that revealed almost all of your back, a v that stopped just above your stomach. Damn, you were hot. The black heels that you rarely wore helped to straighten your back and elongated your neck. You felt so fucking sexy.

You kept your makeup minimal, just enough to lengthen your lashes, plump your lips and give just a little colour to your cheeks.

You looked at yourself in the mirror once more, deciding that the little diamond bracelet was all the jewellery you needed to make yourself feel beautiful.

Your friends were waiting for you in the lobby of the hotel you were staying in, a gorgeous, elegant building right in the middle of Coruscant, a place you could never have afforded alone, but on the Empire’s penny, it was barely anything to pay for class.

The bar was one that not many of the imperial officers went to, out of the way and exactly what you needed to help secure your confidence in your new job.

It was a great night, filled with champagne and laughter, one you’d not forget in a long time, but it was the crystal blue gaze that landed on you every so often from the bar, that really secured it.

You had no real intention of going back to the hotel with anyone, but the attention was enough. You knew you looked good, but seeing that someone else thought so as well, took your self-confidence to a whole new level.

Eventually the night went on and the blue gaze had disappeared. You felt a small disappointment, but brushed it to one side when you realised it was ridiculous. The man was handsome, yes, his fitted beige turtleneck that sat beneath his navy suit, highlighted his lean figure, and the way his gaze held yours when he swallowed a mouthful of gold liquid was delightfully seductive, but you weren’t there to pick up strangers, you were there to celebrate and feel good about yourself. That was it.

Your friends needed to head back to the hotel, but you still had something you wanted to do. Your evening would only be complete with one small indulgence. To sit alone at the bar and simply be elegant. You’d seen it in pictures and films, the beautiful woman simply enjoying her own company and it was something you’d always wanted.

You sat on the barstool, placing your small black clutch on the counter and ordered some wine. You weren’t drunk, not by a long shot, but you felt the warmth of the alcohol circling your body.

It was pretty much as you expected it to be, slightly boring, but nice to be looked at by one or two men who walked passed. You saw them staring hungrily at you through the mirror and pretended not to notice.

You finished your wine and just as you were about to pay, the blue gaze caught your attention in the mirror. He stood behind you with a small smirk on his face, his hands in his pocket, just watching you.

‘Hello.’ He said, his voice was rough, like a low growl and it sent a small shiver down your spine.

‘Hello.’ You smiled back.

‘May I?’ He gestured to the seat next to you.

‘You may.’ You nodded.

He slowly sat down next to you, still smirking. ‘I was about to ask if I could buy you a drink, but it looks like you’re leaving.’

‘I am.’ You nodded, again. If you didn’t know any better, you would have said he liked the fact that you were giving him so little to work with.

‘It looked like you were having fun this evening. Celebrating?’

It was so strange to watch a man so obviously attracted to you, dance around the question he clearly wanted to ask.

‘Yes.’ You turned towards him, curious about where this would go and somewhat excited about the game he was playing. ‘I got a promotion.’

‘I’m sure it’s well deserved.’ He seemed to be genuine in his words. ‘When do you start?’

‘I’m afraid, that’s classified.’

You watched his eyes flare with excitement for just a moment. ‘Then I’ll ask no more. Is your name classified as well?’

You gave a small chuckle. ‘No, it’s Kaida.’

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you Kaida, I’m Orson.’ He held his hand out for you to shake. The contact alone was warm and inviting, you could feel his pulse beating through his skin. Fast.

‘Pleasure.’ You hummed, his eyes darkening almost all the way. You couldn’t help but swallow at this new game you felt you were playing.

You sat watching each other for a moment or two, before Orson smiled a little wider. ‘May I be bold?’

You smiled with him.

‘I’m sure every man has told you the exact same thing tonight, but you really are quite beautiful.’

‘Thank you.’ You gently bit your lip. ‘It’s nice to feel it every once in a while.’

‘Is that what the celebration was really about?’ His voice was low, the seduction evident. ‘Feeling beautiful for a while?’

‘Yes.’ You found yourself breathing the answer. Something about the crystal blue gaze had you sucked in.

‘Then, may I be even more bold as to ask if you’d like to go somewhere a little more private?’ Orson’s voice was almost a growl and you were tempted to say yes, but this wasn’t really you, you weren’t someone who slept around, you were only there for the illusion, nothing more. ‘If I’ve made you uncomfortable, I apologise.’ Orson was so quick to read your expression.

You cleared your throat. ‘It’s not that.’ You shook your head, making him tilt his in questioning. ‘I just… I’ll be honest. I got dressed up, I came to a bar to drink champagne and feel good when men looked at me.’ You could see his smirk returning. ‘This evening was for me, no one else.’

‘I see.’ He nodded. ‘I can appreciate that, and I wouldn’t want you to feel I was pressuring you.’ You hadn’t expected him to be so considerate. ‘But understand that I find you quite beautiful indeed and as cliché as it sounds, I would feel honoured if you asked me to make you feel more so.’

You felt your mouth begin to water, the prospect of sleeping with this unusually handsome man was tempting, but you were still unsure.

‘That is quite an offer,’ you licked your lips as subtly as you could, but you knew he’d catch it. ‘How do I know you can live up to it?’

He chuckled lowly. ‘I’m afraid there really is only one way to find out. But let me put it another way. You clearly sit in a position of some importance careerwise, I too, have secrets I’d wish to keep. I don’t know your last name either, so any chance of compromising your position is almost non-existent. You don’t seem interested in anything long-term, I’m not either. In fact, I’m sure you won’t believe me, but my intentions tonight did not involve picking someone up.’ That part made you laugh. ‘I believe honesty is an extremely attractive quality in anyone, but especially for short-term gains. The truth of it is that I’ve been sitting at this bar thinking in those rare moments I caught your eye, how beautiful you would look in the light of my hotel room.’

You felt yourself suck in a shallow breath, his eyes flickered towards your chest for a fraction of a second, catching the sharp intake and knowing what it meant.

‘I’m more than happy to express more detailed honesty, if it would make you feel more beautiful this evening.’ Orson licked his lips, his gaze finally tearing away, glancing at the barman and breaking whatever trance he had you in. ‘The offer is there, Kaida.’ Even the way he said your name had your heart rate rising, his eyes found yours again. ‘If you say no, I’ll walk you out, say goodnight and wish you all the best for your promotion with genuine intention.’

You thought for a moment, you had no reason to think this man was lying, but there was one way to find out whether he was dangerous or not.

‘Will you give me a moment?’ You asked, watching him smile gently.

‘Of course.’

You finally let go of his hand that had been stroking your wrist ever since he introduced himself, grabbed your small clutch and as elegantly as possible, you made your way towards the ladies room.

Once inside, you felt much cooler, the air wasn’t as thick and the haze of everything Orson had said began to lift. You let the cool water wash over your fingertips for a moment, finding it soothing in some way.

You looked up to see that your light layer of makeup had done nothing to hide the flush that now coated your chest, neck and cheeks. You were giving Orson every sign that you wanted to sleep with him, and when you really thought about it, he was right, there was nothing that risky about it. You didn’t know each other, the chances of you crossing paths again were slim at best, and he enjoyed honesty, maybe you should have just indulged for a night.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to walk back towards the bar where Orson was nursing a nearly empty glass of golden liquid. You did your best to saunter towards him, catching his eye once again. His whole demeanour changed, where previously he might have thought you left, now he smiled as his crystal, blue gaze travelled down your body, then back up, licking his lips.

You stopped next to him and inhaled. ‘Were you checking me out?’

‘I was.’ Orson swallowed, smirking again.

‘Good.’ You whispered. ‘If you’re looking for honesty, then here’s mine. Tonight is for me to feel beautiful, I want to feel like I am worth worshipping,’ you heard him suck in a harsher breath. ‘I want to feel a man’s hunger for my body and feel him losing all control because of me.’ You stopped, noticing a small spot on Orson’s neck was pulsing hard, his heart was racing. ‘I want you to tell me all the things you want to do to me, Orson. I want to feel desired.’

Orson sucked in a deep and steady breath, clearing his throat. He smiled, knowingly. ‘Then I suppose we should go back to my room… get you out of that dress.’

You wanted to laugh as Orson threw back the last of his drink. He immediately stood, placing his warm fingertips on your exposed back, sending small thrills through your body, and guided you towards where the valet was standing waiting to pick up his transport.

Orson suddenly turned back to you. ‘I’m sure I don’t need to, but I will say it again, I’m not going to pressure you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. You’ll tell me if I do.’

It felt more like a command than a request, one he took very seriously indeed. ‘Yes.’ You whispered.

Orson smiled, biting his own lip and making sure you stayed warm next to him. The night air was cold and in a way it was helping your body ignite.

Finally, the transport arrived and Orson, ever the gentleman, held the door for you to get in, while he climbed in the other side.

You crossed your legs, exposing your thigh through the long slit in your dress. Orson’s eyes were momentarily glued to your skin. He licked his lips, watching as you traced your fingertips over the top of your leg.

Orson chuckled. ‘Making a man jealous in this state is a dangerous thing indeed.’

He made you smile, knowing you’d both rather it was his hands that traced your skin.

‘You have ten minutes to tell me some of the things that turn you on.’ He suddenly said, driving the transport away from the bar’s entrance. ‘The more detail the better, obviously.’ His eyebrow quirked a little, making you laugh.

You bit your lip and wondered where to start. ‘Things that turn me on.’ You said more to yourself.

It was quiet for a moment before Orson was kind enough to help you out. ‘Honesty seems to do something for you, if I’m not mistaken?’

‘Yes.’ You nodded. ‘I like detailed honesty as well, I suppose.’ You thought for a moment. ‘I like the idea of knowing exactly what a man wants to do to me, to be unable to resist.’

You watched Orson smile to himself. You suddenly thought to yourself how rare an opportunity this really was, one night with a stranger who seemed more than willing to give into your every desire, to encourage you to feel all the things you wanted to feel that night.

You turned your body towards him, catching his attention.

‘Things that turn me on.’ You repeated, biting your lip, finding your courage. ‘I want to feel something slowly dominating, Orson.’ You watched him lick his lips subtly. ‘I want to feel your hands and mouth on every patch of skin, feel you hungry for more while your mouth is between my legs.’ He sucked in a harsh breath, you tilted your head observing his reactions. ‘I want to hear you telling me how pretty I would look on my knees with your cock in my mouth.’ Orson cleared his throat, half laughing.

‘Oh, don’t stop now.’ He growled and some part of you feel compelled to answer.

‘I want to feel your body pinning me to the wall, your hands holding mine above my head, I want to feel like I’m your prize for the evening.’ You watched his hands tightening around the wheel, and his chest puff out slightly as the thought began turning him on as well. ‘I want you to have me against the wall, I want to feel your breath on my neck as you tell me how good it feels to fuck me.’

Orson let a steady breath go, clearing his throat.

‘Would you like me to continue?’ You smiled, teasingly.

He chuckled. ‘I’ve got half a mind to pull over right now.’

‘Only half?’ You bit your lip.

‘Don’t tempt me.’ Orson growled, making you feel the danger of turning him on any more than you already had. ‘My god, you may turn out to be more than I bargained for.’

You bit your lip again finally pulled up outside a beautiful hotel just a little way down from your own. Orson glanced over, grazing his eyes over your still exposed thigh and smiled.

He placed his fingertips on your lower back once again, guiding you to the lift. The doors closed and Orson watched you smiling again.

‘I’m unsure if it’s lucky or unlucky that we’re alone.’ He said, his body pressing gently against yours. You frowned in questioning. ‘The temptation to simply have you here and now is a very real concern.’

You sucked in a harsh, shallow breath. ‘Oh, really?’ You teased. ‘I do remember you saying something about how good I would in the light of your hotel room.’

‘Believe me, it’s the only thing stopping me from fucking you right in the middle of this lift.’ He growled into your hair. ‘And I wouldn’t care who was waiting to use the lift, they’d wait until I was finished with you.’

You cleared your throat, trying hard to breathe steady, but that warm scent that was entirely him was blurring your mind.

‘Well, that is interesting.’ Orson stood up straight, smirking to himself, but he said nothing else.

Orson ran his hand briefly down your arm, taking your hand gently, and leading you towards his room on a very high floor. He stopped for just a second, moving your body between his and the door to his room. You thought he’d open the door immediately, but instead he paused.

You felt his body lightly grazing yours, teasing you, never quite giving you enough to satisfy.

‘Kaida,’ he growled, you could taste the whiskey he’d been drinking that evening. ‘I want you to know something before we go inside.’ A small wave of dread washed over you, before Orson’s hand came up to caress your cheek, making you sigh out with relief at the contact. ‘Before this night is over, I will make you scream out my name for everyone to hear, and I will make sure that no other person ever feels good enough to touch you again.’ You let a heavy breath go before quickly sucking back in.

Orson opened the door behind you, you’d barely been able to breathe while he spoke lowly to you outside the room.

The dim lights came on immediately, Orson took your clutch from your hand, throwing it somewhere behind him and grabbed your wrists, using one hand to hold them above your head, and one hand to caress either side of your jaw. You noted that at no point did you feel like you couldn’t wriggle free or tell him to stop.

‘Look at you,’ he chuckled. ‘Your body is just begging for me to devour it.’

You breathed a laugh. ‘Yes.’

‘Look at me.’

You hadn’t even realised your eyes had closed. That crystal gaze was now obsidian, and it made your mouth water.

‘Fuck, you’re beautiful.’

Before you could respond, Orson pressed a firm kiss to your lips, groaning while he did and pressing his body a little more into yours. He was such a good kisser. He sucked your lower lip, gently bit it to make you groan out, his hand slowly descending down your throat, making you smile against him.

‘Oh, you filthy woman.’ He growled, very slightly wrapping his hand around your throat. How had you never known how much you enjoyed it? Orson’s careful exploration had you both realising that it was the suggestion of total domination that turned you on more than anything. Where choking might not have been what you wanted, the suggestion of it was a far more exciting feeling.

Orson kissed you harshly and softly, just finding what you liked and what made you moan. At some point you noticed he’d begun subtly grinding against you. He smiled against your mouth and allowed his hand to descend from your neck down the exposed V of your dress, stopping where the material joined above your stomach.

Orson took a moment to let you breathe, his forehead pressed to yours, his fingers tracing over the soft skin, he smiled a wicked smile.

‘In the interest of honesty,’ he said. ‘There is a very real part of me that would love to fuck you in the middle of a room full of men, all of whom could never have you the way I could.’

‘Fuck.’ You breathed. The thought on it’s own was a beautiful one, the idea of a room full of people wanting to do exactly what Orson was about to, was thrilling, sending hot rushes through your core.

Orson’s hand drifted further down to wear the slit in your dress exposed your thigh, you knew exactly what was about to happen and it excited you.

You felt his fingertips tracing the skin slowly, his rough hands wrapping around your thigh as you instinctively brought your leg up to wrap around his hip.

‘That’s it, darling.’ He hummed, making you sight. ‘You know what you want… fuck.’ Orson growled into another harsh kiss. His hand had run all the way up your thigh and found your hip, much to his pleasure, he found no trace of underwear.

You couldn’t help but chuckle against him.

‘Oh, you think that’s funny?’ Orson smiled, but there was real danger in his tone. ‘I could have just fucked you over the bar if I’d known,’ it only made you smile that much more. ‘Or followed you into the rest room, lifted your dress up and made you watch through the mirror.’ That one had you groaning out. ‘You see? I can break you as well.’ You felt his mouth devour yours once again, the thought of being fucked into oblivion by this man was something you desired more than anything. ‘In fact…’ Orson suddenly stopped, glancing towards the balcony if his room.

He let your wrists go, bringing your hands down slowly as he kissed you softly, grinding his hips against you, making you feel what you had done to him.

Orson suddenly stopped, taking your hand and guiding your weakened body over to the window next to the balcony, he made sure to stay behind you, placing your hands against the cool glass. You looked out to see the bustling city planet, it was late and no one would really be able to see you, but it was the thrill of getting caught all the same. You listened to Orson taking his jacket off and could just about make out his reflection.

‘What do you think?’ He asked, hands around your waist, still making sure you could feel how hard he was, his lips just below your ear, softly kissing the skin and igniting you in a new way.

You chuckled, absorbing yourself in his warm touch. ‘I think anyone could see us.’ Even just saying it made you sigh in pleasure.

‘I think you might not mind.’ Orson chuckled gently biting the sensitive skin. ‘I think if I looked the way you did, I’d want people to watch me come as well. People love to watch beautiful things getting ruined.’ The last part was said as a growl. ‘And make no mistake darling,’ he bit the sensitive skin between your neck and shoulder. ‘I fully intend on destroying you tonight.’

You let out a weakened whine, one that had Orson thrusting his hips a little harsher into you. He quickly spun you around, pressing your back against the cold glass and making you gasp at the sudden cold contact.

‘No more teasing,’ he said, breathlessly. ‘I need to see you come.’

Orson made you whine once again with his searing kiss, one that continued down your neck, your chest, between your breasts, his hands drifting over your waist, finally giving you a chance to wrap your arms around him and delve your hands into his lightly greying, soft hair.

‘God, fuck.’ You laughed.

Orson was finally on his knees in front of you, his hands either side of your hips and his lips pressed to the only material separating him from what he really wanted to be kissing.

‘That’s it, darling, let me hear you.’ He panted, pulling your dress up and out of the way and inhaling deeply.

Orson dragged his lips over your hips, his tongue coming out to taste the thin layer of sweat that had built up through shear arousal, it made him groan and lift your leg to drape over his shoulder. His hand slowly traced up the back of your leg, making your breath even shallower as he kissed his way between your legs.

‘Kaida,’ he growled, making you make some kind of noise in response. ‘Your pussy is beautiful.’

You barely had time to groan before Orson’s whole tongue ran through your folds, slowly and intentionally.

‘God, yes, Orson.’ You moaned, laughing with delight as he repeated the movement over and over against, groaning hungrily into you. ‘I…’ you panted, trying to verbalise your thoughts. ‘Your hand.’

It was enough to have him growling into you and Orson’s hand moving towards your centre. He went slowly, filled you with each finger, lapping your clit up, his other hand coming to hold your body in place while you laughed and groaned with each movement he made.

‘Fuck, Orson, faster.’ You panted again, Orson picked up the pace, but you still needed more. ‘A bit deeper.’ The second you said it you nearly screamed. ‘Yes!’ You laughed. ‘That’s it.’

Orson didn’t stop, the stamina of his tongue alone was enough to please any woman. But the second you began thinking it, you were closer than ever.

‘Oh my god, yes, yes!’ You cried, tightening around his fingers and scratching his scalp not of your own volition.

Orson slowed his pace, extracting every last little noise that he could from you, before softly kissing your clit. It was almost domestic, as if sealing his mark in some way.

Suddenly the cool glass was heavenly against your hot skin. You felt Orson standing in front of you, but it took you a moment to open your eyes, when you did, it was to find he also had his eyes closed, as if tracing the memory once again. You decided to take one more moment to do the same.

‘Fuck, that was good.’ You finally breathed.

Orson kissed you firmly, drinking you in as if the first time hadn’t been enough. He growled into every single movement, his hands cradling your face as you tasted his wet lips. It was never normally something you immediately wanted for, but the simple fact that he couldn’t get enough of you, was all you needed to kiss him just as fiercely.

You wrapped your hands around his lean waist and felt your own hips pushing up into his, making him chuckle into you.

Orson pulled back just enough to look at your face, his thumb drifting over your bottom lip, his jaw clenched for a moment, just trying to compose himself.

‘I’ll offer you a choice.’ He said, kissing you again, hungry for more. ‘I can either do that again, make you scream my name over and over,’ another devouring kiss. ‘Or we can put that pretty mouth of yours to better use.’

The weakened whimper was all Orson needed to know what it was you really wanted. He smiled.

‘Good girl. Get on your knees.’

He didn’t have to tell you twice. Orson watched you descend down his body until you were on your knees in front of him. With one hand he brushed his thumb over your lips, never taking his eyes away from yours, he was like a man possessed. The other rested on his silver belt buckle.

‘Are you going to let me do whatever I want with you?’ It was something about the power of him, the way you knew you were safe in his hands, all you needed to do was submit to the pleasure he was promising. You nodded and watched his mouth twitch into a smile. ‘Good girl.’

Orson took his time, he let you hold his thighs for support, while his thumb dipped into your mouth, encouraging your tongue to swirl around the tip. You listened to his other hand slowly unbuckling his belt and felt your excitement rise.

‘Darling, what I wouldn’t give for a night with you completely at my mercy.’ He said, making your grip tighten in his thighs. ‘A beauty like you deserves to be ruined by men like me, wouldn’t you agree?’

Orson removed his thumb for you to answer. You breathed a faint ‘yes’ and it was exactly what he wanted from you.

Orson finally got his belt undone, his hand still held your jaw in place as he ran his other hand over himself a few times. He brushed the tip over your lips, just giving you a small taste of his cock, before gently and slowly feeding himself into your mouth.

‘Oh, that’s it, darling, hold it there for me.’ He said, bringing your hands up to wrap around his cock, while he took his jumper off, revealing a very lean man indeed. Fuck, he was beautiful, and your thoughts were so clear from your weakened sigh, vibrating around him. ‘Now you know the feeling.’ He laughed.

Orson pulled his cock all the way out of your mouth, gently scooping up your hair, again running his thumb over your lips, before once again feeding his cock into your mouth. He made sure not to go too far just yet.

‘Fuck, you look so pretty wrapped around me like that.’ Orson was losing control over his breathing and it was making you wet all over again. ‘Will you let me fuck that pretty mouth?’ You found yourself instantly nodding and whimpering in desperation. ‘Yes? Is that what you want?’ He teased. ‘Okay, well you just let me know if it’s too much.’

That wicked smile was back, and you really weren’t sure if you were ready for what was coming, but if it meant watching his gorgeous face sigh and moan with pleasure, then you wanted it.

Orson made sure to grab your hair and slide his hand below your chin and down your throat. He held you in place, slowly testing how far he could feed himself into you before it was too much. Once he realised you could take him quite far, his thrusts increased.

‘That’s it, good girl.’ Orson moaned. ‘Just let me fuck you. You don’t have to do a single thing, just keep that mouth open for me.’ Orson encouraged, making you moan and whimper for more. ‘Oh fuck, I think you can handle a bit more. Yeah?’ You whimpered again.

Suddenly you felt his hips snapping into you and a pace you had never taken anyone before. Orson swore and laughed as he fucked your mouth, he was loving every moment of making you feel beautiful.

Without much warning, you felt him thrust into you and hold his cock there for a moment, you couldn’t breathe and began to choke. The second he felt you pushing his thighs back, he pulled all the way out.

Orson was on knees with you, gently stroking your cheek, letting your hair go while you gasped for air.

‘Just breathe, darling.’ He said softly, soothingly. ‘Deep breaths, you’re okay.’ You did as he said and found you were okay again. ‘You need some water?’

‘I’m okay.’ You shook your head.

‘Good.’ He kissed your temple and gave you a moment to breathe on your own.

You turned your head to kiss the side of his mouth, encouraging Orson to smile and sink into another passionate kiss.

‘May I be so bold?’ He asked, making you chuckle. ‘Can I do that again? You cannot fathom how beautiful it is to watch you choke on my cock like that.’

Another weakened whimper was all he needed to know you wanted him to do it again.

‘Remember to breathe, darling.’ He said, almost teasing you, making you smile around his cock once again.

The second time was easier, you were ready for it and able to hold him there longer. He told you over and over again how beautiful you were wrapped around his cock until you couldn’t take it anymore.

He kissed you, whispered praise, stroked you face and smiled into another kiss.

‘I think it’s time for you to be rewarded.’ He growled, bringing you to stand with him. ‘I think it’s time we got you out of this dress.’

Orson laughed with you and delicately began peeling your dress away. He was careful with it, acknowledging that it was probably quite expensive, he draped it over the back of one of the chairs in his hotel room.

You took a moment, feeling the slight ache in your jaw, but relishing the cool glass behind you all the same.

‘Well, aren’t you something?’ Orson licked his lips, letting his eyes drift over your naked form, the only thing left was the diamond bracelet and sharp black heels. You smiled and tilted your head, feeling your face flush, much to Orson’s delight.

He stepped up to you slowly, inhaling whatever perfume you’d put on that evening, his eyes fluttering closed as he pressed a soft kiss to your mouth.

‘I’ll not forget this night in a hurry.’ He whispered, his lips moving down your jaw towards your neck, softly biting the sensitive skin once again.

‘Fuck!’ You sighed deeply, noting how much it better it seemed to feel than before.

‘Whatever the lady wants.’ Orson chuckled into the crook of your neck, making you do the same as your hands ran over his broad shoulders.

His rough hands ran down your sides, his mouth found yours once again as he lifted your leg around his waist. You could feel the tip of his cock nudging you, making you gasp.

Orson stopped for a moment, softly kissing you. ‘You okay?’ He asked, gently.

You smiled, nodding. ‘I’m okay, just…’

‘What?’ Orson pulled back a little to see your face clearer.

You swallowed, almost nervously. ‘It’s just… as much as I’m enjoying this game…’ you cleared your throat, hoping it would buy you time to think about whether you should have said anything at all. ‘It’s just been a while.’

Orson smiled, his dark blue eyes grazing over every part of your face. ‘Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier.’ You frowned, chuckling slightly. ‘You still trust me?’ You nodded, wondering what exactly he had planned. ‘Good.’

Orson held your gaze, not letting you look away for a single second. He held your thigh around his waist, your hip in his other hand, you held onto his shoulders, occasionally playing with his soft hair.

‘Kaida.’ He whispered.

Slowly and carefully, Orson pushed his hips into you, stretching you gloriously with every inch.

‘Fuck.’ You panted, letting your head lean back against the glass as you took in the feeling of finally being filled with him.

Orson was breathing heavy into the crook of your neck, occasionally letting his tongue run along your collarbone. He suddenly growled and gently bit into the soft flesh of your shoulder.

‘If you were mine, I wouldn’t let you leave this room without marking your body. Let everyone know that only I get to see how beautiful you really are.’ Orson traced his teeth up your neck.

‘Fuck, Orson,’ you whimpered. ‘I’d fucking love that.’ You panted. He still hadn’t moved yet, still just letting you get used to him being inside you.

‘Darling,’ Orson pressed a firm kiss to your mouth. ‘Are you ready for me to fuck you yet?’

‘God yes.’ You laughed.

Orson was slow and considerate for a while, just letting you get used to how deep he could go. He watched your every expression, every second of the way your face reacted to his thrusts and relished in all of it.

He encouraged you to keep your leg wrapped around his waist for a moment, while he brought your hands above your head, you smiled loving every moment this man dominated your body.

‘Isn’t this what you wanted?’ He asked, almost mockingly. Holding your leg once again, while he kept your wrists in place above you. ‘The simple pleasure of being slowly dominated?’

‘Yes.’ You breathed.

‘And is it all you hoped for?’

There was something genuine behind the question, not just another teasing line, but something compelled you to give in entirely to the game you were both playing.

‘Almost.’ You smiled, making Orson laugh.

He kissed you again. ‘What can I do to make you feel beautiful, darling?’ He whispered against your lips.

You swallowed thickly, unable to believe you were about to say this. ‘You can fuck me like you mean it.’

Orson groaned, dragging his teeth across your bottom lip. His hips snapped up into you, forcing a higher pitched moan to echo out of you.

‘Oh, you have no idea what you’re asking for.’ He growled, but it only sent excitement rushing through you.

Orson dipped his head, gently biting the soft flesh of your chest, before dragging his tongue all the way up your neck.

‘Fuck.’ He groaned, pulling away, dropping your leg and turning you around so that your body pressed against the cool glass. Orson pulled your hips towards him and for a moment you thought he would simply watch you in the faint reflection in glass, but soon you felt his cock easing back into you. His hand fisted your hair, his other hand wrapped around your waist, pressing his much warmer body to your back, and began fucking you at a pace you didn’t know you were ready for.

You were no longer in control of any noise that came from your mouth. Orson didn’t stop fucking you, thrusting deep, keeping a relentless pace, one that would have you coming hard around him in no time.

His hand delved between your legs and Orson found a rhythm to stroking your clit, clearly he needed you to come again.

‘Come on, darling, I know you can do it.’ He mocked. ‘Just let go for me.’

‘Fuck, Orson, yes!’ You cried, feeling yourself barely able to clench around him from how tight you were and how thick he was. It felt like wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, it was never ending.

Orson slowed down, breathing steadily as he held your hips in place.

He ran his palm over your back, as if committing it to memory. Orson leaned down to place a gentle kiss to your shoulder and you could feel his smile.

‘See all those people out there,’ he whispered into the hollow of your ear. ‘They all saw you and wanted to fuck you senseless.’ It sent a thrill through you once again. ‘But none of them will ever be able to appreciate just how fucking beautiful you are when filled with my cock.’

You couldn’t stop the deep groan that echoed from your chest.

‘I think they’ve seen enough.’ Orson placed a swift kiss to your temple and slowly pulled himself out of you, making you whimper slightly. ‘Don’t worry darling, this is far from over. Get on the bed, on all fours.’

Orson let you take a moment to compose yourself, your legs were weak, and he chuckled in understanding.

‘You’re so smug.’ You shook your head.

‘I have every reason to be.’ He shot back.

You decided it was your turn to weaken him, and slowly climbed onto the bed, watching him every second you stretched yourself over the white sheets, arching your back so that your curves were on show for him.

Orson shook his head, smiling, but the warning was still there.

‘Be careful, if you tease me too much, I may not be able to control myself.’

‘Where’s the fun in controlling yourself, Orson?’ You let your head rest against the sheets, still watching him, never taking your gaze away. His face became one of almost defeat. ‘I’m right here, ready for the taking.’

‘Fucking hell.’ Orson breathed out, immediately striding towards the bed, pushing himself inside you and groaning out. ‘Fuck,’ he laughed. ‘You have no idea what you’ve done.’

‘I do hope I’m about to find out.’ You had no idea where this new side of you had come from, but Orson was relishing in it, and it was filling you with a new excitement.

Orson pushed a little deeper, taking a moment to compose himself before giving in completely.

Once again, his pace was relentless. He held your hips, keeping you in place as he cried out how good you felt, unable to stop himself. Orson suddenly reached for your hands, holding your wrists in place behind your back, his other hand found your hair once again and gently pulled up enough that your back arched perfectly for him.

‘Fuck, Kaida, you’re so beautiful.’ He panted, seemingly unable to control his words any longer. ‘Fuck.’ He pulled you up a little more, trapping your hands between your back and his lean stomach, his hand was then free to snake around and gently play with your nipples.

‘Oh my god.’ You whimpered.

‘That good, yeah?’ He teased.

‘Yes.’ You moaned. ‘Just… harder.’

‘Harder?’ Orson smiled. ‘You mean you want me to fuck you harder, or…?’ Orson pinched your nipple between his finger and thumb, making you almost scream. ‘There she is.’ He chuckled darkly. ‘I want to hear you begging for it.’ You weren’t sure you had the energy. ‘Beg me to play with your breasts and I might let you come.’

‘Please?’ You whimpered.

‘Is that it?’ He said, still fucking you and softly running his thumb over your nipple, none of it was enough. ‘Come on darling, let me know how much you really want it.’

‘Please, Orson, please.’ You cried out desperately. ‘Please, I want to come, please make me come.’

‘Tell me, come on now.’ God, he really meant it when he wanted you to beg.

‘Please.’ You begged again, allowing the desperation to pour out of you. ‘Please play with me, fuck me harder, mark me like I’m yours. Please, I need it.’

Those seemed to be the magic words to make him fuck you deeper, pinch your nipples until you were almost crying with how good it felt, and finally he bit hard into your shoulder, sucking at the skin and making sure you never forgot who did this to you.

‘Come for me, darling.’ He panted and you could feel how close he was himself. ‘Come on, that’s it, show me how beautiful you really are.’

‘Fuck, Orson, fuck, yes!’ Your whole body shook around his cock. Orson groaned into your neck, holding you against him, feeling every moment of both of you coming hard.

You both panted for a minute or two, Orson loosened his grip in your hair and let your hands free from between your bodies. You were both shaking, but Orson chuckled and still somehow inside of you, he lay you both down, his arms around your body, taking in the soothing afterglow.

You could feel the aches beginning to set in your muscles, but every second was worth it.

Orson managed to lift himself up onto his elbow, he moved your hair out of the way and traced his fingers over your shoulder.

‘Well, you’ll definitely have a mark there in the morning.’ He chuckled, but it only panicked you for a moment. ‘Don’t worry, you won’t be able to see it, I made sure it was far enough back that a shirt will cover it.’

You laughed. ‘That was very considerate of you.’

‘I’m sure you’ve noticed I have my moments of consideration.’ He chuckled and slowly pulled himself out of you. You suddenly hated the lack of contact.

You heard the bathroom light come on and Orson running the tap, but when he came back, he poured a glass of water from a bottle in the fridge.

He drank a little and helped you sit up on the edge of the bed, handing the glass to you. You hadn’t realised how shaky you had become, but that smug smirk was back, making you roll your eyes and laugh.

‘I hope it’s not too forward,’ Orson started, almost making you choke on your water. Forward was not really a concern of yours in that moment. ‘But truly, you are beautiful.’ The sincerity in his crystal blue eyes was enough to send much more delicate warm rushes through you.

You swallowed another mouthful of water. ‘Thank you.’ You whispered, making him smile. He understood what you were thanking him for.

‘If you’d like to stay, you’re more than welcome.’ He said, kissing your shoulder, tenderly. ‘You don’t need to feel pressured to leave any time soon.’

Again, it wasn’t exactly what you expected, but it was what you asked for. A night to feel worth worshipping and that was exactly what you got.

You stayed a little while, you lay in bed together talking about nothing of importance, Orson had asked you about what you did for a living, but it was classified, he respected that and moved on.

At some point you’d both fallen asleep, Orson with his arms wrapped around your body, but the sun was starting to come up and you needed to get back to your hotel and get ready for your first meeting in your new position.

You left Orson still sleeping and thought on how wonderful the night had really been. You felt beautiful and worshipped and like nothing else in the world was worth the time.

You managed to get back to your hotel without anyone important noticing you do the walk of shame, you showered and tried not to focus on the aches that now set into your bones.

It wasn’t a common occurrence for you to look dressed up in work uniform, but catching yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but think you looked rather pretty. You face still had a little colour from the night before, and your confidence was through the roof. You supposed it mattered more how you felt about yourself than anything, and on this morning, you felt amazing.

You caught the transporter ship that was taking you up to your new station and spent the next couple hours you had going over your new assignment. The few acquaintances you made did the same thing, but in amongst that, they spoke about the project leads and who to watch out for.

Finally, you were inside the station, you quickly dropped your things off in your new quarters and made your way to the department heads meeting. It wasn’t anything to worry about, it was just introductory, but another one of the heads, Colonel Sebastian Derma had given you a stellar piece of advice.

‘Just watch out for the Director and you’ll be fine.’ Derma said, as you both took your seats at the table, waiting for the Director to turn up.

‘Why? What’s his deal?’ You half smiled.

‘He’s just very demanding, a bit of a lunatic if you ask me, and has a temper like you wouldn’t believe.’ He continued. ‘You won’t find a sympathetic ear with him if anything goes wrong.’

‘So, he’s uptight?’

‘That’s a nice way of putting it.’ He chuckled. ‘I think he just needs to get laid, loosen up a bit.’

You chuckled quietly while everyone else got back to gossiping, while you took a soothing deep breath. Your shoulder was still sore from the night before, and you couldn’t help but try to massage the muscle.

Suddenly everyone on the opposite side of the table began stand at attention, you did the same thing. You felt someone standing behind you and took another deep soothing breath.

‘You may take your seats.’

You felt your whole body freeze, your blood was cold and suddenly all of your confidence began draining away. You knew that voice. That voice had drowned you in pleasure the night before.

‘Something to say, Colonel Sarlin?’

You suddenly noticed that the rest of the table had sat down and you still remained standing.

‘Oh, no-‘ you stopped yourself speaking, reminding yourself that he was no longer Orson, he was your boss. ‘Director.’ You gave an awkward smile as you finally took your seat.

That crystal blue gaze remained on you as you did, something annoyingly playful sat behind it. Why was he so smug?

‘I’m sure you all know, my name is Director Orson Krennic,’ he was loving every moment of this. Why did he have to look so good in uniform? ‘And I will be leading this project until it’s completion. You will all be under my supervision until then.’ No one else seemed to notice that he couldn’t take his eyes off you, an echo of the previous night, making your cheeks flush much to his amusement if that smug smirk was anything to go by. ‘Now, let’s begin.’

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

Tagelist: @anundyingfidelity @erinesalazar @the-stars-around-my-scars

#orson krennic #orson krennic x reader #orson krennic x ofc #star wars #rogue one #orson krennic fanfic #ben mendelsohn

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smartsubmissionpro · 3 days ago

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katgametable · 2 months ago

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OX Guild Season 2: The Corn Ultimatum

Written 04 Apr 2025, shortly after relistening, having watched and listened multiple times previously.

The Oxventurers are approaching the town of Little Avery. It is surrounded by corn fields, and the town is beautiful. The locals see them coming, and run inside, closing windows and doors behind them. A man approaches them, and pleads that the harvest isn’t ready yet, they need to put in a good word with McCluskey. After some intimidation, some convoluted excuses, the Oxventurers find out that the town is paying “protection” to a bandit named McCluskey, to the point that they tore down half the town to have more land for crops to meet his demands, for fear for their lives. The townsman pleads with them to help, as the last adventurer to pass through said they couldn’t afford his rates and is now in the tavern. They huddle and discuss various options, such as taking over the protection racket from McCluskey, which Egbert isn’t too opposed to as he has 37 mini-Egbert mouths to feed (the mini-Egberts are still mini, but aging rapidly). But they’re going to take out McCluskey anyway. Corazon heads for the tavern to get a drink, while Dob starts quizzing the townsman. Dob gets nothing useful, so they all retire to the tavern.

In the tavern, Corazon has constructed a corn effigy of himself he has named Cornazon. Also in the tavern, there is a Tabaxi dressed like a pirate drinking neat corn whiskey. Merilwen gets another drink for him and goes over to make friends. His name is Rust on the Harbour, he was a pirate but he has a fear of the water. He’s very amiable. He says that he was sure that his fee was too steep for the tow, as it’s as much money as he can imagine – one gold piece - but he did see the bandits’ camp. Corazon tries to impress Rust several times, notably with a round of the knife game, which results in Corazon stabbing himself in the hand, and Egbert has a go, stabbing Dob in the hand. The Oxventurers decide that they can pay Rust’s fee, and recruit him to come raid the bandits with them. They consider multiple options, such as pretending to be would-be recruits, making a Trojan ear of corn, digging a tunnel, and just burning the camp down. Dob buys a shovel, and Prudence buys arson supplies.

As they go, Rust catches a couple of birds, which he says he’ll eat later, and Corazon competes by catching even more birds. This impresses Rust mightily, and he disappears for a time, before coming back with a hat decorated with tail-feathers to give it wings. It takes moment for Corazon to accept that is a sincere gesture of friendship and admiration.

As they reach the camp, they can see a wooden palisade with closed gates. There’s ramparts, a walkway at the top of the palisade, a mead hall in the middle and other buildings scattered. Dob comes up with the idea of using makeshift catapults, and starts uprooting a sapling for that purpose. But as he digs, he feels a giant hand grasp his torso, and he’s picked up by a tree.

Notes from Part One pre-show podcast commentary: Jane is joined by Andy, for one of his favourites. This is the debut of Rust on the Harbour, a favourite Johnny character. They then consider that Mike is actually a ten year old boy. They discuss upcoming Resident Evil Village and Mario Party videos, and try assigning DnD classes to Mario characters. Then they talk about a movie they watched, and the soon-to-begin Orbpocalypse Saga.

Notes from Part One post-show podcast commentary: Jane picks out Little Avery on her map of Geth, and bemoans the problem of trying to make it. Andy tries to big up Corn-azon, but instead they talk about Rust. Rust is Johnny’s character in a Saltmarsh campaign, and is an Assassin Rogue. He can’t comprehend more than one gold piece at a time. Jane got very confused by the many half-plans and convoluted information. They tease upcoming merch (which is probably long sold out while I write this) and promo Blades and Orbpocalypse.

The tree that has picked up Dob demands to know what he’s doing, and Dob claims he was preparing to plant flowers. The Treant (for it is that creature) sees through him, but as he’s not happy with the bandit camp, he’s not opposed to assisting in destroying it, if Dob will come back and plant flowers later. They concoct a plan that involves the Treant Gary throwing Dob, Rust and cat-Merilwen over the palisade, while Prudence torches some trees outside the camp as a distraction. Gary has a particular dislike for some sycamores, so he animates them to bring them into position for the burning. They wait for nightfall.

Prudence douses the animated sycamores in corn whiskey accelerant and lights them. This does indeed attract attention, and eight bandits rappel down the palisade. Gary throws, and Dob and the cats soar into the camp. They see the mead hall, which appears to be the focal point, and more bandits preparing to rappel down, so Dob give cat-Merilwen a knife and sends her to stop the bandits doing so. Unfortunately, Merilwen’s charge is not the stealthiest, and now everyone is aware there’s in incursion inside the camp. Corazon climbs up the ropes to take on the bandits up there. Merilwen, also on the palisade, turns back into an elf to cast Poison Spray. The animated, burning sycamores are commanded to slam the bandits outside the camp. Dob charges in to the mead hall, attracting attention, while Rust goes up, down the chimney, and takes McCluskey hostage. McCluskey orders his men to stand down, which takes a little while to disseminate due to the sheer chaos, and the fact Egbert is riding Gary as he charges through the camp. But eventually, a number of bandits are dead, the rest are tied up, and Corazon steals the money box. Then they take McCluskey back to Little Avery, where he is summarily tried, found guilty, and burned to death in giant wicker ear of corn.

Merilwen gives Rust ten gold pieces, which causes his mind to freeze. So she gives them to him one at a time, so he only sees one at any moment, but then does have multiple coins in his pocket. Dob rounds them up for flower planting, and Corazon does Rust a kindness by pickpocketing nine gold pieces.

Notes from Part Two pre-show podcast commentary: Jane is looking for a spare tagline, but Andy is not doing too well at supplying one. They talk about the Orbpocalypse Saga, and Andy mentions the premiere is clashing with his shifts volunteering at the vaccine centre (directing people, not injecting them). They have already released a level-up video (I’m probably going to incorporate that into the S3 intro post). So they talk about the changes coming with the new season. And then they talk about Resident Evil Village.

Notes from Part Two post-show podcast commentary: Andy and Jane loved the NPCs, such as Gary the Treant who hates sycamores. They did some very good combat, and Andy loved that Merilwen broke Rust’s brain. They discuss if Rust can comprehend numbers higher than one in general, or if it’s just gold. Jane talks about how they have an upcoming appearance at Metaverse ’21 for the third installment of Oxventure in Space. And they conclude with talking about Orbpocalyse again.

Like Sect Appeal, Corn Ultimatum isn’t my favourite, although after re-listening I’m not entirely sure why. I guess I didn’t click with it when it first came out. I do like Rust (who reappears later), and assaulting a bandit camp, and all the fancy combat stuff, but for some reason…I don’t know. I found the opening really awkward, with the whole bit about taking over the protection racket – I get that Corazon’s money-hungry and Prudence likes the power, but do they really want to set down roots? I dunno, maybe that kinda set me into the wrong frame of mind. Ah well.

I do love Rust. He’s a really interesting character, he’s well developed, he’s got so many little quirks. I love him. I also have a soft spot for Tabaxi, which probably helps. I love Corazon’s one-sided rivalry, but let’s be honest, Rust steals the show.

#Oxventure #Oxventurer's Guild #TTRPG #Dungeons and Dragons #DnD

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amparol12 · 2 years ago

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easyquickweb · 1 year ago

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thelasttime · 2 years ago

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Sorry to jump on this train but we actually had to do a case study on Singapore for an assignment last year to learn how they’ve managed to do well in just about every aspect and it’s truly fascinating. With over 6M people only about 600 or so people there are homeless which is crazy to think about! I need to find my own paper but from the internet this is accurate from memory. For starters, 80% of Singapore population stays in public housing. If people cannot buy and needs support, they can rent from govt at a very subsidised rate (as low as 33 sgd for the absolutely poor). If they still cannot afford the rent, then there are financial assistance to cover the rent. For the homeless who prove that they cannot live without assistance, usually those with mental health or substance abuse issue coupled with old age, there is a law that allow them to be held inside shelters. (It is a prison in all but name.) The law is very rarely invoked (if the homeless guy appears to be functional even the police will be understanding, and persuasion will still be the to go tool) but low doesn't mean never. Singapore has long-term city planning — not just housing planning. That means it provides housing and makes other amenities, such as transportation and grocery stores, accessible, which can help prevent destitution. No where in the US does any long term housing planning, let alone city planning. The US let’s property developers decide whether to build housing, regardless of demand, and they only do it if it’s profitable for them, not if it’s best for everyone.

It is a fascinating country to study! Their entire system is different to most places and they’ve obviously done something right and made it work (albeit I will say living there is very expensive! Look at the price of their cars! They’re at least $200,000! I paid $3000 for my first car here 😂)

this is so interesting!! omg, never say that you don't learn anything from being online. thank you for taking the time to write out this ask!! i'm curious to hear the opinions of my singapore anons about their own country

#asks #asking you this*#anonymous

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spikeybonesandwich · 3 months ago

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you know what? i'm bored, i'm not doing anything, and i like to flex the fact that i don't use ai to write for me... so let me write 600 words about this mostly off the top of my head :) in essay form, too, i guess. like grammatical and structured and such. idk i have testing soon maybe itll help me practice

In the modern world, generative AI has become widespread to the point of pervasiveness. While generative AI has already had many moral arguments levied against it, one subject of particular interest is the loss of skills and creativity due to the ease of simply prompting AI to create in one's stead.

As AI becomes more sophisticated, students are becoming more reliant upon generative AI models to do work for them. One key example is the essay. On social media platforms such as TikTok, students post that they cannot understand how others functioned before ChatGPT--a widely-used generative AI model that can be used to generate text--while specifying that they use AI to write their essays, usually specifying that the required word count is in the hundreds, around 200 to 600. AI can certainly save students the time and effort they may otherwise use to write an essay. However, the question is whether the practice afforded by writing essays and lost by using AI is useful enough to warrant concern for the futures of the students cheating on their essay assignments. Clearly, it is.

In school alone, students must use their command of the English language frequently. In lower grades, the rubrics of standardized tests specify that a student's score will be affected by proper or improper use of English language conventions. While standardized testing in elementary and middle school may seem inconsequential, these scores affect not only the students themselves, but also their regions, from their cities to their states. The scores affect a student's life only situationally, as some schools, like magnet schools, are selective, and only those students with high grades and test scores will be allowed to attend these prestigious schools, and missing the opportunity may lower a child's chances of attending a prestigious college. On a larger scale, low standardized test scores may discourage families and those who plan to start families from moving to an area due to the low quality of education, which could cost those regions money. On the world stage, education is compared between countries, and in recent decades, America has been lagging behind, which has caused widespread alarm. AI usage will only exacerbate the problem.

During more advanced stages of schooling, the conventions of English are less emphasized, but the ability to synthesize one's own writing in a meaningful and insightful way is significantly more important, and one's writing is more closely scrutinized for understanding and reasoning based on understanding. For example, Advanced Placement (AP) English rubrics scale points based on the demonstrated understanding of the contents of texts and the effect on the audience or the implications that a student can draw from said texts to answer a prompt. In order to score well on an AP English exam, a student must be capable of using these skills for themself, and any cheating will result in a nullified score and, possibly, banning the student from taking any other AP tests. Scoring highly on an AP exam can give a student college credits and save thousands of dollars later, in postsecondary school, whose tuition rates are famously high and leave thousands in debt. To reduce those costs is a unique opportunity that can have considerable downstream effects, but having the necessary writing skills is crucial.

Later in life, when one's activities are not monitored and checked for AI usage, then perhaps one might use AI. However, the fundamental skills developed in school also transfer into day-to-day life. The practice of writing a research paper hones one's ability to do independent research and find truth, which AI is demonstrably unable to do. A recent study found AI to be confidently incorrect around 60 percent of the time, and screenshots of Google's AI search result claiming that it is wise to eat rocks or add glue to pizza have been circulating recently, so relying on generative AI to do research is unwise. Writing essays with word limits hones the skill of efficiently relaying information, which can be done by AI in writing, but in conversation, AI is not so accessible.

The problem lies not so much in the usage of AI for writing, but rather in the missed opportunities to learn and practice skills in the classroom and the subsequent, lifelong lack of ability. Learning is easiest when one is young, and trying to make up for a lack of fundamental skills in adulthood will be difficult at best, and a generation of adults without the ability to research and communicate could be disastrous.

bada bing bada boom 750 words exactly. which is kinda a crazy coinkydink but hooray! i could write more but im 150 words over my minimum and im a little tired of this so here ya go

tl;dr ai sucks. but go read it tiktok-brain. damn.

im still losing it over the "how did high schoolers write 600 word essays before chatgpt" post. 600 words. that is nothing. that is so few words what do you mean you can't write 600 words. 600 words. this post right here is 45 words.

#i wonder what lights up in my brain when im writing an essay vs just writing for funsies #woah essay writing is fun when there's no pressure #or am i just a filthy nerd....#🤓 <- me irl #anyway here have my essay i wrote it #i want people to see this i think so #writing #essay #school #fuck ai

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avengerscompound · 2 years ago

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The Interview - Chapter 1

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist

Rating: E

Warnings: On the series; smut, family trauma, bad workplaces On this chapter; sexual innuendo

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count: 3109

A/N: IF YOU WISH TO BE TAGGED IN THE REMAINDER OF THIS SERIES, EITHER ADD YOURSELF TO THE TAGLIST OR SEND ME A MESSAGE

Chapter 1

It was the dream life. An apartment on the upper west side of New York, located in a beautiful old brownstone. A career in journalism. Getting to interview an actual Avenger. When Melody Danes boiled down her life to its bones, it was exactly how she had planned it out.

Of course, that did ignore some pretty glaring oversights. Like how she actually had two jobs. The journalist position was an underpaid internship that barely covered food let alone rent and bills. Or that the internship was with the Daily Bugle, one of the most despicable publications in the world, with the worst boss she had ever worked for. Or how she lived with her cousin in a one-bedroom apartment, because neither of them could afford anything bigger in the city - even with Bobbi working three jobs. Something that left Melody relegated to a bed that was walled off from the rest of the living room with bamboo screens, while Bobbi got the bedroom because she paid the bigger portion of the rent. Or the fact that the apartment itself was a shit hole that had unreliable plumbing, heat, and super to fix anything.

Still, she didn’t like to complain. She was in New York, the city she’d dreamed about living in her whole life. Plus, there were worse roommates than Bobbi. Melody and Bobbi had grown up in the same small town in Oregon. They weren’t technically even cousins, but rather the children of best friends who had been born a few months apart. The two ‘cousins’ had grown up together being subjected to years and years of taunting about when the two would get married, and constant mentions of Bobbi being Melody’s boyfriend despite the fact Melody had always seen Bobbi more as a sibling than a potential romantic partner.

Of course, back then Bobbi had been known as Roberto. Interestingly, as soon as she’d transitioned, all jokes about Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez had stopped immediately because suddenly, it wasn't only Melody and Bobbi being made to feel uncomfortable but their parents as well.

The two had remained close throughout everything and had made the promise that they would support each other to get their dreams realized. Melody’s dream of being a journalist or author, and Bobbi’s of acting. Yes, there were occasional disagreements that popped up stemming from sharing such a small space, but through it all they’d held on to that support.

That was why, when Melody had come home freaking out about the fact she was going to interview the Captain America - and not just for a short piece, but an in-depth personality profile over a week, Bobbi was the first one to congratulate her. She then brought all her friends from her job at the dinner theatre to help find her something to wear.

It was why she was now headed down East 45th in heels that were a little too big and a pantsuit that was a little flashier than she would have liked, looking for the Comfort Diner.

Despite being a little wobbly on her feet, she felt good. Nervous. Excited. But good. The pantsuit did make her look professional, and her friends had done her hair so her black curls were pinned back in an almost 1920s-style wave that was folded over in a loop at the nape of her neck. Her makeup was immaculate and her copper complexion gave off an almost glow in the light. More importantly, this interview was her golden ticket. It wasn’t even supposed to be Melody that got this interview. The person who was originally assigned to it had written one too many scathing think pieces about the Avengers. She’d been told neither Captain Rogers nor any of the other Avengers were willing to talk to her anymore. A quick scramble through the other reporters had only brought back people who were either in the middle of assignments or were equally loathed by the Avengers and so they had handed it to the intern with the most promise. Melody Danes.

As she made her way down the street, her heel caught in a crack in the pavement. It was just a brief catch, but given her shoes were the wrong size it caused her to stumble forward directly into a huge wall of muscle.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” the wall said as it steadied her with large hands.

She was about to answer that ‘she was until some stranger called her ma’am’ when she looked up into the clear blue eyes of Captain America, and the words caught in her throat.

He was somehow even more attractive in person. He had a broad chest and muscular arms that seemed to be testing the tensile strength of his shirt as he supported her.

That was not what drew her attention most. His face held her captivated. His skin was flawless, his pores so small they almost looked airbrushed out, and his complexion was the color of peaches and cream. He had a square jaw and a straight, narrow nose that both exuded masculinity. Yet, his high cheekbones, full lips, and long dark eyelashes were all beautifully feminine. All this paired with the pale blue of his eyes and for a moment she was lost for words.

“I’m fine,” she said when her brain finally kicked into place again. “Embarrassed mostly. I’m actually going to meet you for lunch.”

“You’re the one from the Bugle?” Steve asked, his tone giving away his surprise.

“That’s right,” she said, straightening herself out. She offered him her hand. “I’m Melody Dane from DB. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Steve replied, shaking her hand. “I guess you just weren’t what I expected.”

The two began making their way to the diner together, both still staring at each other.

“What were you expecting?” she asked.

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know, to be honest. A trilby with a press pass sticking out of it?”

She started laughing. “I’ll wear one next time. Though I do have my press pass here if you’d like me to stick it in my hair or something.”

Steve’s laughter joined her and he shook his head. “That’s okay. You can keep it in your purse.”

They entered the cute little 50s-style diner and took one of the booths up the back. The greeter set them up with menus and left to get their drinks while they decided what they wanted. She set up her recorder and notepad on the table.

“So, I’m not sure what it is you were after,” Steve said as his eyes flicked over the menu. “The Bugle is always just investigative reporting, and if I’m honest, they don’t do a great job investigating.”

She laughed. “You’re telling me,” she said. “It’s barely above a tabloid magazine. It runs on sensationalism. But with the way that the internet is affecting print media, they’re trying to branch out into different things. This is technically a profile piece for a yet-to-be-named magazine. They want a story about the man behind the shield. I’ll come talk to you a few times over the next week. We’re going to do a little tour of Brooklyn so you can tell me how it’s changed. Other than that, whatever access you’re willing to give me, the better I can craft the article. I’m not here to make you look bad. We just want a piece that shows the world that there’s more to you than a flag.”

“How does that fit in with Jameson’s whole superhero menace thing he does? I mean, this was going to be conducted by Norah Winters, right? She’s not exactly our biggest fan either?” Steve asked.

“I’m not Norah Winters,” Melody said. “Norah Winters couldn’t even get you to agree to sit down with her. I’m hoping that the fact they chose me after running through just about everyone else in the paper, might allow for some room to grow trust.”

Steve nodded and poured himself a glass of water. “Okay. Well, I’m here. I guess we’ll see how we go.”

“My first question is; why did you want me to meet you here? You were asleep for the 1950s, so it can’t be a nostalgia thing,” she asked.

“Honestly? I’ve never actually been here before,” Steve said. “I just wanted somewhere that wasn’t intruding on my space, that was relaxed enough that I didn’t feel like I was on display.”

“Do you often feel on display?” she asked.

“All the time,” he said. “Since the day I was given the serum. It’s part of the job. There are people out there who are okay just saving the day and slinking back into the shadows, but what I do - or at least what I hope I’m doing - is giving people someone to rally behind. It means that I draw attention to myself and I have to make sure that what I believe in is stated clearly or people use me as a symbol of oppression. It means that I need to teach with actions, not words.”

The waitress came over with the drinks and Melody and Steve placed their orders. She opted for the soup and sandwich, while Steve went for the steak.

When she was alone again, she took a sip of her coffee and watched Steve toy with his cup. The white branded mug looked tiny in his hands. “Does that get hard?” she asked. “Being on all the time. I mean no one is perfect.”

He nodded. “But I hope what I do helps in some way. Not just the obvious ones where I save lives because of an alien attack. But maybe if people see that I am standing up for people, they might do it too. I mean - I wasn't always this-” he gestured vaguely to himself. “I was this tiny guy with a huge list of medical conditions….”

“I did read that list,” she said. She’d done her research coming into this. She’d known Steve Rogers had been marked 4F several times and that the list of his medical conditions was as long as her arm. “People always seem to always focus on the asthma, but some of those conditions are debilitating.”

Steve nodded. “I was a perpetual letdown for my father. All he wanted was a good strong son who could follow in his footsteps, but what he got was a sick kid they didn’t expect would make it to adulthood,” he explained. “The ulcers paired with the anemia were the worst. I had to eat a pound of raw liver a day but I was constantly throwing up or having heartburn. You're right, there were a lot of conditions but those two were the worst. It’s given me a weird relationship with food now.”

She was surprised by how open he was. She’d expected him to be a little more closed off this early on and yet, he was freely sharing details about the trouble he had growing up. “What do you mean by that?”

The waiter chose that moment to bring over their meals. Steve looked down at the steak in front of him. “Well, take this,” he said. “Steak is fine. But is it what I wanted? I’m not even sure. I chose it because it looked like it was the best combination of protein and carbohydrates to get me through until dinner. The serum has made it so I burn through calories so fast, so if I eat something like pancakes or pie, I end up having a crash an hour or so later. And I can’t have that because it means I have to eat again. And for a guy who grew up through the great depression with medical conditions that made it so that he had to eat pounds of raw meat that I’d just end up throwing up - well I can’t take constantly eating throughout the day.”

Her heart broke for him and she had to resist the urge to reach over the table and take his hand. “So what you’re saying is, you really wished you’d ordered pancakes?”

He gave a little side nod. “Kinda, yeah,” he said. “But even acknowledging that out loud - I will still just eat this steak. But I’ll feel uncomfortable eating in front of you because you’re a stranger, even though I need it to get through the rest of the day.”

She nodded in understanding. The burden of trauma was a hard thing to shake. Even if you were a superhero. “That really does suck. I do understand it though. It’s hard to retrain yourself. In fact, if you figure out how to do it, let me know.”

He smiled at her and began to cut his steak. She took a moment to take a bite from her sandwich. It was surprisingly good for something from a diner and she couldn’t help the soft hum that escaped her lips. “I don’t want you to have to dwell too much on your illnesses if you don’t want to - but I do have one more specific question about it. Is it true they used to treat asthma with cigarettes back then?”

Steve laughed. “They used to treat lots of things with cigarettes,” he said. “The asthma ones weren’t usually tobacco cigarettes mind you. Not that they were necessarily better than tobacco ones. If memory serves me arsenic and belladonna were some key ingredients used. They also told my mom to give them to me for the scoliosis and heart palpitations. But they played havoc on my stomach. They also told me I should drink a lot of coffee.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “You ever wonder what the things we all accept as true now will be looked at as being completely crazy in the future?”

Steve thought for a moment and when he spoke it was almost like he was talking to himself. “Circumcision.”

She nearly choked on her soup, which made Steve laugh and lean over, patting her on the back. “I’m sorry. It was the first thing that popped into my head. I mean - that wasn’t even something people did much out of religious reasons back in my day.”

“You’re totally right. They brought it in in the fifties to stop men masturbating, but I wasn’t expecting Captain America to bring up circumcision,” she said, still laughing.

“I’m so sorry,’ Steve said again. “God - I can’t believe I did that.”

“It’s fine,” she giggled. “Seriously. Oh man…”

Steve ran his hand down his face. “I will say this though,” he said. “Even after all this time with the serum, I still feel like I’m that guy. I still feel like that 95-pound piece of chewed bubblegum. I still remember every time I got beaten by some bully trying to keep me down and I still remember getting up, because my mom always said you keep getting up or they win. I still go into every battle remembering that and holding it with me, because I know what it’s like to have someone try and use their strength to keep me down and I don’t want anyone else to have to go through that.”

She nodded and wrote the quote ‘I still feel like that 95-pound piece of chewed up bubblegum’ into her notebook. “What did it feel like when you changed?”

“It was really sudden. I went into this thing that was like a metal coffin and pumped full of these drugs while they irradiated me. The process was excruciatingly painful. I started changing right away. It felt like I was being stretched out in all directions. Then it stopped and the pain stopped with it. And not just the pain of the change. All my pain. My stomach didn’t hurt. My chest didn’t hurt. I didn’t have pain in my back. When I took a breath it went in easily and filled my lungs. And then on top of the very noticeable lack of pain, I had other things, like my heart didn’t feel like it was racing for a change. I could see colors properly. I don’t even think I could describe what that was like. And all of it mixed together …” he trailed off and shook his head. “I apologize, I’m going to be crass again and I hope that you might do me the favor by paraphrasing this, so I don’t sound like some kind of pervert, but it was like that feeling you have when you orgasm, only magnified by a hundred.”

“Wow,” she said and took a large bite from his sandwich. She chewed it thoughtfully as she tried to imagine how extreme that would feel. “That’s something.”

He nodded. “It’s a shame that they lost the formula. I mean - I know having a bunch of rogue super-soldiers out in the world isn’t necessarily a good thing, but if there was a way you could cure disease as easily as that still out in the world, imagine how far we would have come by now?”

She nodded. “It would have been an impressive piece of medical science. And it would be a very different world where no one had to worry about illness.”

They both sat quietly in thought for a moment as they ate. “So,” she said, finally breaking the silence. “I said before, we wanted to get to know the man behind the shield, and I’m certainly hoping I get to know the real Steve Rogers doing this, but do you think there’s a difference between Steve Rogers and Captain America?”

“Of course,” Steve answered quickly. “I think that’s true for everyone, right? I’m sure you sitting there interviewing me isn’t the same person you are when you’re home with your family or out with your friends. Knowing the publication you work for, I’m sure it’s not even the same person you are in the office. We put different aspects of ourselves forward all the time. If you’re asking where the divide between Steve Rogers and Captain America is - I’m not sure. I’ve put so much of myself into this for so long… I don’t know who I am without it. I know I’d always want to stand up and fight for what I believe in. I know I’d always want to stand up for the little guys. But aside from that… I couldn’t say.”

She frowned a little. “I guess I can see how that could happen,” she said. Though the admission made her realize something, article or no article, she wanted to find out who Steve Rogers was for his sake as much as how drawn to him she already was.

// NEXT

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easyquickweb · 1 year ago

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kavinderrawat · 15 days ago

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avengerscompound · 1 year ago

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The Interview - Chapter 13

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating: E

Warnings: smut (MF, vaginal sex)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count: 2887

Chapter 13

Melody’s promotion went through very quickly and by the end of the month, she was juggling three different jobs and earning three times what she’d been working at the start of the month. While the new job came with new friends and new employees who hadn’t known that six months ago she’d been an unpaid intern, the people at the Daily Bugle who had seen her meteoric rise through the ranks weren’t all supportive.

Some were fine. Ben Ulrich was happy in his job as an investigative journalist and always would be. The Bugle could go through every change in focus possible, as long as he could expose secrets in the superhero world, he'd be happy. Peter Parker was excited for her, especially given it meant he was getting more regular work that fit around his rather bizarre schedule.

Some of the others resented her for the fact she’d somehow become Jameson’s golden child. The person who couldn’t seem to hide her disdain the most was Norah Winters. The views-obsessed writer hated the fact that Melody was such a popular choice for celebrity and superhero interviews, nor the fact she’d been given the job as lead editor of what was now officially known as the Blast. She thought that was her rightful job given how much she’d done to get the kind of clickbait content the Blast would run off. It shocked her that her mean-spirited clickbait was not the vibe that Jameson had wanted for the new website. Besides, Melody being so young and new to the industry meant he could pay her so much less than the more seasoned Norah.

Two weeks after Melody had started the job, she was well underway curating the new content, she’d found an apartment with two bedrooms that she and Bobbi could afford. It was a large percentage of their combined income, but that’s how New York was, and they had been getting by until now. It was also six blocks further up, so there was now three minutes more travel time and they were further from the parts of Central Park that they liked best, but it would all be worth it when they moved in and had their own rooms.

Steve and Bucky had been helping the women move in, going so far as to borrow a van from the Tower and load it with their stuff in the few hours a day all four of them were free at the same time. It had been slow going, but tonight they were bringing the last of their things over, including the beds. As soon as she was done for the day Steve would pick her up and they’d head over there.

“We’re never going to beat the puppy interview,” Melody said as she packed up her things for the day. “But we definitely need something that people are excited for. I wonder if we could ever convince people to try different kinds of alcohol or edibles because that would be hilarious.”

As she spoke to the other members of staff who were working on content of The Blast, Peter Parker came out of Jameson’s office and made his way through the bullpen. “Pete,” she called. “You know, Spider-Man. You think he’d do an interview while doing shots or trying different edibles?”

“Ahh… no I don’t think so,” he said, pausing and looking over the top of her cubicle. “You’re close with Captain America, why don’t you ask him?”

“His metabolism is too high, he processes drugs and alcohol too fast for them to affect him,” she said.

“That must be fun when he’s injured,” Jasmine, the new intern said.

Melody shrugged. “Yeah, it’s probably not fun,” she agreed. “Okay… what about something like a scavenger hunt?” she suggested. “We ask questions as we go around the city looking for clues.”

“Spider-Man might be into that, but it sounds like it would be a long interview. It might be hard to lock most celebrities down for the time you need,” he said.

“And knowing Spider-Man he’d just leave halfway through because someone would have robbed a bank or something,” Jasmine added.

“Hmm… well we could put it on the docket as a possibility if we have more time with the people. If we get a really fun host and start with people we know, it might work,” Melody said. She made a quick note in her notebook to work on the idea. It might be a good one for Bobbi to host. “What about something where we get them to try different snack foods? Potato chips from around the world. All those different KitKat flavors. Pizza slices from around the city.”

“Now that Spider-Man would be totally down for. Hawkeye would do the pizza one in a heartbeat,” Peter said.

Melody looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “You know Hawkeye too?”

“Uhhh… everyone knows Hawkeye loves pizza,” Peter said quickly. “I better go. Photos to take, homework to do.”

He hurried out toward the elevator and Melody checked her phone for the time. “Shit. I gotta get out of here too. If you have any ideas, we’ll workshop them on Monday. Have a good weekend.”

She grabbed her bag and dashed to the elevator. Peter was nowhere to be seen but Norah was stepping into the open elevator car. Melody ducked in beside her and moved to the back. The doors closed and Melody looked up at the display showing what floor they were on.

“I know you're dating Steve Rogers,” Norah said.

The statement took Melody by surprise. Not because it was a secret she was dating Steve, just that the accusation was so banal. If Norah had accused her of breathing air she might have been just as surprised.

“What?”

Norah turned to face her. “I know you're dating Steve Rogers.”

Melody kept facing forward, not wanting to engage. “That's not a secret, Norah. I've never tried to keep it a secret.”

“It's not exactly well known though either. I mean you talk. about him in that little column of yours but you never mention his name or what he does. And I don't see the paparazzi hounding you. Shit, even your X posts lack the weirdo obsessives trying to make you want to break up with him. So far you've been flying under the radar,” Norah said.

It sounded like a threat, but Melody wasn't sure what the woman was threatening. She couldn't stop her from posting the gossip. Shit, she'd been expecting someone to.

“What's your point?”

“My point is, I know you must have something on Jameson. He'd have been telling you that you had to dish the dirt if you didn't. Not to mention this promotion that should have been mine.”

Melody rolled her eyes and thankfully the elevator opened on the ground floor. “You're paranoid. Jameson knows that if I keep things quiet I might have better access to the Avengers for the fluff things I write. You're the one that writes the kind of gross shit that would end a relationship, not me. And the promotion was more about saving money than anything else. You know he's a Scrooge. Go home and relax. There's no grand conspiracy here.”

“Yeah well, I think you've had too good of a ride,” she said. “But thankfully you've given me a great idea.”

Melody stopped and watched Norah leave through the large glass doors at the front. She didn't like the sound of that, but she had no idea what the woman could be planning other than outing a relationship that wasn't in any way a secret.

She shook her head and went out the side door to the alley. Steve and Bucky were waiting for her in the large silver van. The side door slid open automatically when she approached and she jumped in, kissing Steve on the cheek before buckling up.

“You ready to spend your first night in your new apartment?” Steve asked.

“You know I am,” she said. “Let's do this.”

It didn't take very long to get the last of Melody and Bobbi’s things over to the new apartment. Having two supersoldiers made moving furniture a lot faster and a lot less effort. Plus, Melody found it extremely hot seeing Steve just hoist her bed base on his shoulder and carry it up the four flights of stairs to her apartment like it was nothing.

Steve got the bed situated in her room and when the last of the things were in the apartment he came in and helped her make the bed.

“So how does it feel?” Steve said as the two of you shook the sheets out over your bare mattress. “Having your own room?”

“It’s so good,” Melody answered. “I could do whatever I want in here.”

They each hooked the fitted corners over the edge of the mattress and smoothed out the fabric, before grabbing the pillows and putting them in place. “What kind of things would you want to do?” Steve asked.

“I could strip down naked,” she said, grabbing her quilt and shaking it out over the bed. Steve grabbed the other side and smoothed it down. “Dance around. Put on music without my headphones on. I could take my sheets and walk to the kitchen and put them in my new washing machine.”

“While you’re still naked?” Steve chuckled.

“Maybe,” she laughed. “Maybe I’ll have fresh clean pajamas in the drier and they’ll be toasty warm when I put them on.”

He laughed and came around to her, his hands sliding over her hips as he wrapped his arms around her. His hands splayed out on the middle of her back as he pulled her hips flush with his. “Anything else you’d do in this bedroom?”

She smirked. She knew exactly what Steve was hinting at. She wanted it too. She wanted him to fuck her right here right now. She wanted to order takeout and eat it in bed and have him fuck her all over again. She wanted him to spend the night and wake up in his arms only to have sex one more time before they went out for the day. She was also enjoying the playful teasing and wanted to drag it out. She put her hands on Steve’s chest and looked up into his blue eyes. “I could have the window open and the fan on while I sleep,” she said.

“You couldn’t have done that before?” he asked.

“I could,” she said, dragging the word out. “But Bobbi always complained that the living room got too cold.”

“Well, you can’t have a too cold living room,” he said, ghosting his lips down her neck. “Is that it?”

She tilted her head, exposing her neck to him. He took the invitation, kissing her neck slowly. He sucked softly and his tongue swirled over her skin, making it break out in goosebumps. “I don’t know,” she half moaned. “I feel like I forgot something.”

“Maybe I should remind you,” he said.

He lifted her suddenly and tossed her on the bed. She squealed in delight and quickly pulled off her shirt and threw it in the corner. Steve slowly approached her, the expression on his face almost predatory. It fed her need and where he moved slowly, stripping off his body-hugging t-shirt and throwing it with hers, she moved frantically. She unfastened her pants and pushed them down and off and then moved on to her bra. Steve was still in his trousers when he leaned in to kiss her, guiding her back up the bed. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and when her head was on the pillow, she spread her legs and welcomed him between them.

It was hard for her to slow down, she wanted him so badly. She’d never actually had sex in her bed yet, and now this was happening she wanted it so badly she ached. Placing her hands on Steve's shoulders she pushed him, wanting to take over, and put an end to the drawn-out teasing.

Thankfully, he took the hint, rolling over for her and pulling her on top of him. If he'd chosen to ignore her, there wouldn't have been anything she could do, pushing him was like pushing a brick wall. When she was on top of him she couldn’t help but just sit and gaze down at him.

He looked so perfect stretched out under her, looking up with lust-blown eyes and waiting for her to do something. She pushed his hands above his head and pressed his fingers to the headboard. “Keep your hands there,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, licking his lips. He clenched his fists, making the muscles in his arms flex and the veins and tendons stand out. She took a shaky breath in and held it as she skimmed her fingers down his arms, mapping his skin with her fingertips. When she reached his shoulders, she leaned down and kissed his neck. Her lips moved slowly down, tracing along his collarbone and onto his pec. Her hands smoothed down his sides to his pants and she unfastened them, reaching into his boxers and pumping his already hard cock. His foreskin moved back and forth over the head with each stroke of her hand and his hands tightened on the headboard and he moaned softly.

“Condom?” Melody asked.

“Left pocket,” he said.

She bit her bottom lip and fished in his pocket, pulling out the condom and sitting back. She looked down at him as she tore the packet open and placed the rubber between her lips. She crawled down his legs pulling his pants down as she went. His cock sprang up hard against his stomach and she took it in her hand. “What are you doing?” Steve asked.

She winked and lowered her head and using her lips and tongue she rolled the condom down over his shaft. His cock was so large she gagged before the whole condom was in place, and she had to roll the last part down with her fingers. The effect was not lost on Steve, he moaned and arched his back, his eyes glued on her.

She crawled back up, wiggling out of her panties as she did and when she’d straddled his waist, she lowered herself down, guiding his cock into her soaking cunt. They both moaned as he entered her.

There was a moment, where Melody just sat, appreciating how full she always felt when Steve was inside her. He was the biggest guy she’d ever been with by far, and in a lot of ways that wasn’t always a good thing, but the way he filled her - that little sting as her cunt stretched to take him, it was a unique feeling and she liked to savor it. That brief moment was all she could do before her need took over. She began to move, bouncing on his cock - up and down, up and down, faster each time until she was leaning over, riding him like she was in a race.

Steve let go of the headboard and his hands moved to her hips, one slid around to her pussy and he began to rub her clit. He pushed himself up onto his elbow and leaned in, kissing her neck and breasts, and she wrapped her arms around his head, holding onto him for dear life as she continued to move.

“Oh fuck, Steve,” she mewled. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it, Mel,” he praised, his hips bucking up to meet hers. “Let it happen.”

His finger moved faster on her clit and their bodies slapped together with each bounce. All her muscles clenched up in sequence, like cords, and wrapped around them and pulled tight. When they relaxed she came, her body shuddering on top of him. “Yes, Steve! Fuck!” she cried, burying her face in Steve’s neck to smother the sound.

He flipped her suddenly, pulling her legs up so they were pressed up against her torso. His thrusts were erratic, but so much deeper than before. Melody gasped and cried out as she felt him hit her cervix. He pulled back a little but kept thrusting, chasing his release.

“Fuck… Steve… please,” Melody begged. She wasn’t even sure what she was begging for. She just knew if he kept going the way he was she was going to shatter.

She pulled him down into a hard kiss. Their tongues danced together, and she sucked his bottom lip. He ran a hand up into her hair as his hips began to stutter and as his fingers tightened in her hair. It sent a jolt through her, setting off another orgasm. As her cunt clenched and squeezed Steve’s cock, it brought him over with her. He groaned into her lips and ground his hips, pushing in deep as his cock pulsed with his release.

“Fuck…” Melody moaned as her legs fell down on either side of Steve’s. “I guess my bed’s broken in now.”

Steve started laughing, and he kissed her, rolling onto his side. He pulled back and looked at her, amusement written all over his features. “Worth the wait?”

She cupped his cheeks and looked into his eyes. “With you? You know it was.”

// NEXT

#marvel #avengers #marvel fanfic #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #captain america #captain america fanfic #steve rogers x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #ofc #smut #the interview

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