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pedro-pascal-love · 4 years

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The Past

Chapter Four of Well, This is Awkward

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Rating: 18+, NSFW

Word Count: 2k+

Summary: Some things come to light about Reader’s past and Dave is a tease.

Warnings: Language, angst, slow burn, graphic descriptions of sexual acts but no sex (yet!)

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A week. That’s how long you’d had been avoiding Dave at all costs. You made damn sure not to be caught alone with him whenever possible, always having one of the girls there or being out of the house running errands while the girls were at school. As far as you could tell, Dave was avoiding you too. Which you’d admit hurt your pride a little bit, but hey, he was married, so you had no right to be upset.

You’d tried to get your mind off him as much as you could by working on things around the house or helping the girls out with homework, but you could only do that so much before boredom overtook you. Whenever you weren’t busy with the girls or doing errands, you often hung out in your room on your phone or laptop, just scrolling through social media. You’d done your nails several times this week already and had perfected the art of folding your towels five different ways and rearranging your bedroom. Yeah, you weren’t going a little stir crazy at all. Carol was due back from her trip in a week, and you’d hoped to avoid Dave the rest of the time until then, but fate had other ideas.

It started like any other day; you’d gone to drop off the girls at school and then hidden away in your room. Two hours passed before you heard a peep from around the house, and it came in the form of a knock on your door. Your heart stopped; your breath hitched.

“Yes?” You called out, nerves consuming you in anticipation.

“It’s Dave, mind if I come in?” Dave replied through the door. You looked down at your clothes, contemplating if you should change or not. All that preserved your modesty was a pair of yoga pants and a tight-fitting tank top.

Fuck, you thought. You straightened yourself up and took a deep breath, putting a pillow on your lap under your laptop and took in a deep breath.

“Come in,” you stated, bracing yourself for his entry. Dave quickly opened the door, and it took everything in you to remain conscious. How would a man look so good in merely a dress shirt and trousers?! Dave made his way to you and sat on the foot of the bed while you scooted back a little bit more on the bed and propped yourself up against the headboard.

“What can I do for you today, Dave?” You inquired.

“I think you and I need to have a little chat,” Dave replied. You bit your lip.

Fuck, I do not like where this is going.

“What about? Is something wrong?” You replied nonchalantly.

“Yes. You’ve been avoiding me this last week, and I’d like to know why,” Dave stated, cutting right to the chase.

Fuck.

“Oh….Um….Well, you see….” You stammered out, not sure how to answer that without sounding like a complete idiot.

“I mean, I have a few guesses, but I wanted to hear it from you.” You sighed, hearing his words.

Here goes nothing.

“Yeah…..I have sort of been avoiding you, and I’m so sorry if it came off as rude,” you began. “It’s just; I’m not sure how to handle this situation.”

“What? The fact that you and I have fucked, and now you’re my children’s nanny?” Dave blatantly asked. You bit the inside of your cheek at his words, but his words didn’t stop there.

“The fact that I’ve had you bent over, with my cock deep in your soaking wet pussy, letting a stranger fuck you in a public place?” You clenched your thighs at his words, the action not going unnoticed by Dave, as his eyes shifted down to your legs covered up by the pillow. You gulped and nodded, eyes downcast.

“I see…..Well, I guess I can only assume that you wanted to pretend like that never happened. However,” Dave paused. You lifted your eyes and met his gaze. “What if I don’t want to go on as if nothing happened?” You felt the fire in your soul flare. Were you really hearing his words? Dave got up and moved until he was sitting next to you on the bed, shutting your laptop, setting both the pillow and the computer down next to you.

“See, Princess, I kind of really liked how you felt around me. Feeling the tight walls of your pussy clench around me, milking me for every last drop.” The pet name made you bite your lip and fidget with your hands. You didn’t want to let his words affect you, but they were, and you felt yourself grow hot at the memories. You felt Dave place his hand under your chin and bring your face up to meet his stare. You hadn’t realized how close he was to you until that moment. Should either of you lean forward, just the smallest amount your lip would meet. You inwardly shuddered at the thought.

DAMMIT NO! You scolded yourself.

“Dave, you’re married!” You finally croaked out, snapping your head back so fast it almost hit the headboard. You watched wide-eyed as Dave threw his head back and laughed.

“That didn’t stop you before, baby girl,” he coolly replied. You felt your blood start to boil. He was married, and yet here he was acting like he wasn’t.

“I didn’t know you were married that night,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

“No, but you know now, and I can tell that you still want me,” Dave smirked.

Damn him.

You shook your head, adamant not to fall under his spell, but your willpower was waning. Dave leaned in close to your ear. “C’mon, sweet girl, you’re going to resist, Daddy?”

“Dave….” you whined, your breath hitching feeling his breath on your ear. Dave smiled and moved your face to capture your lips with his. Heat engulfed your bodies as you moaned into the kiss, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him closer to you. Dave took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth and battling for dominance. You whined as you felt him bite your lip and then pull away, your lips swelling from the interaction.

“That’s what I thought,” Dave said as he got up and walked out of the room, leaving you hot and bothered.

“Fuck!” You cursed out as you brought your fingers to your lips, feeling the ghost of his kiss. “I am so fucking screwed.”

Dave was annoyed, to say the least. You’d been avoiding him for the last week since your encounter in the hallway, and he’d had enough of it. He’d spent all week watching you on the cameras, watching as you touched yourself when nobody else was home, listening to your little whines and moans. He’d spent all week listening to you pant out his name, and he’d jerked himself off to the image of being there with you. He had begrudgingly given you space this last week and studied you. He wanted to know what made you tick and see if he’d be able to get away with the plans formulating in his mind.

Carol was due back in a week, and he damn well wanted to have you before his wife was back in town, and his chance at more fun would fly out the window. Today he would take what he wanted and tease you, even if it ended up with him getting blue balls in the process. Dave had chosen today when he knew you’d be caught off guard, and boy was he glad he’d done that. Your little make-out session in your bedroom was just the beginning, and he could tell that you’d eventually give in to him. He watched you on the security feed as you laid in bed, annoyed that he’d left so abruptly, and was pleasantly surprised when you picked up your phone to call your friend Melody. Dave got onto his computer and decided to tune in to your little conversation to see what you two were chatting about.

“Hello?” Mel answered.

“Mel, I’m so fucked,” you started. He could hear Mel on the other end of the phone laugh at your words.

“What happened?” she implored.

“Dave…..He…UGH. He needs to stop being so damn sexy!” you proclaimed. Dave smirked at your antics while Mel laughed.

“I mean, he looked fine as hell when you met him; you can’t just turn that kind of sex appeal off,” she replied. You groaned, and he watched on the screen as you slapped your forehead.

“I know! It’s so bad because I want to jump his bones. Like ALL THE TIME,” you said exasperatedly. “And I hate that he’s married, Mel. It’s so fucked. I don’t know how things in their marriage are like, but Carol seems like such a nice woman.” Dave’s ears perked up at the mention of his wife.

I wonder where this is going to go, he thought as he heard you sigh into the phone.

“I know. It’s pretty fucked that he slept with you that night at the bar, but at the same time, that wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know,” she consoled. “For all you know, they might have like an open marriage or some shit like that.”

“Yeah, who the fuck knows, man. But uh, you should probably know something…” You trailed off.

“Did you sleep with him?!” Mel exclaimed through the phone, both sounding concerned but also excited. "Girl, you know I wouldn’t judge you if you did, ‘cause hot damn, I’d love to be in your situation with a hot boss and all, but the whole Carol thing is just weird.”

“No, no, I didn’t sleep with him, but damn do I want to,” you replied with a laugh. “No, he just came into my room a bit ago, and fucking called me out on why I’d been avoiding him. AND THEN THE MOTHERFUCKER KISSED ME!!!” Dave could hear Mel gasp through the phone and then burst into laughter.

“Oh man, what?!”

“Yeah! He came in all serious and then was like, ‘Have you been avoiding me cuz we had sex?’ and he started fucking dirty talking, all like describing how it was when we were at the bar,” you continued.

“OH MY GOD. HOT DAMN GIRL! That’s some fucking Big Dick Energy if I ever,” Mel cackled. Dave shook his head. You girls were too much, and he liked your friend.

“I KNOW! And then he like got all close to me and just - ugh! I even called him out about how he’s married, and you know what he did? He fucking said that he knew I wanted him even after finding out he was married. It’s like he’s a goddamn spy or has eyes watching me or something!” Dave let out a chuckle at your words. Oh, if only you knew how close you were with that statement.

“Oh, man. That’s so hot,” Mel laughed.

“Yeah…But then the son of a bitch went and kissed me!” you said as you threw your head back with a groan. “And Mel, it was so fucking hot. Ugh. It seriously took everything not to rip his clothes off.”

“Oh my god!”

“I KNOW! And then the fucker had to be like ‘That’s what I thought,’ all sexy-like, and then he walked out!” You cried as you flung yourself into your bed while Mel cackled even more over the phone.

“Hot diggity damn, girl. I say you march into his office or room or wherever he is and take what you want. Better yet, tease the fucker back,” Mel suggested. You pondered her statement for a moment and grinned.

“Give him a taste of his own medicine? Fuck, I really should!”

“Do itttttttt,” Mel encouraged. “But you should be careful. Like maybe a little teasing and stuff, but until you figure out what’s going on with him and Carol, don’t cross that line, you know?”

“Yeah, good point. I don’t want to be a homewrecker, but like fuck, he makes it so hard,” you whined.

“I know, chicka, I know. Who knows, maybe he’d leave your wife for you,” she joked. “Wouldn’t that be a twist!” Dave quirked an eyebrow at her words.

I mean fuck, I never had that thought before, but the girls do love her, and we have a lot of chemistry that not even Carol and I had when we first got together, Dave thought to himself.

“Oh my god, Mel. Don’t say that! Dammit, I’m going to Hell,” you groaned out as you laughed.

“It’s ok; I’ll make sure to save you a seat!” “I feel like such a teenager right now, though, dude. Like I don’t know how I’m going to survive.”

“Take it one day at a time, but make sure to keep your head on straight. I’ll support you no matter what, you know that. If you want to pursue things with him and be happy, then go for it. Just make sure that you don’t get hurt in the long run, you know?” Mel said.

“I know, I don’t want to have to deal with another heartbreak. Especially after what happened with Tom,” you breathed into the phone with a sigh. Dave felt a ping in his heart. He knew all about your situation with your ex-boyfriend Tom and how badly that had ended. He knew all about the abuse that you’d been through at the hands of that asshole and had seen the police reports and photos of your battered face. Thankfully Tom was rotting away in prison, but only after he almost killed you. Dave felt his blood boil at the thought of someone hurting you.

“It’s going to be alright, girly,” Mel consoled. “I don’t think Dave is like Tom at all, and Tom is rotting away after what he did to you.”

“Yeah, I know….I’m just scared,” you whispered into the phone. “Anyways, I have to take a shower and run a few errands in a bit, so I’ll let you go.”

“Ok. You be careful, ok? And take care of yourself,” Mel said as you bid each other farewell and hung up. Dave watched you sit in bed for a moment and contemplated going into the room and comforting you but thought better of it.

I’m getting a little in too deep with her.

Shit.

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#Dave York #dave york x nanny!reader #dave york fanfic #dave york x reader #well this is awkward series

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crimsonrae · 4 years

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Bear and Birdie

Chapter One

Summary: AU Howard only ever had Birdie to confide in as a child and Steve only ever had Bucky. So, what happens when more than just a supersoldier serum connects these people? Told in a collection of one-shots and flashbacks, rating subject to change.

Bucky BarnesxOFC

Rating: Mature

A/N: Okay I have this posted on FF and haven’t updated it in a... long time, but I’m going to post here and hope I find inspiration to finish their story, because they live in my mind and I love them.

Chapter One

1935 Brooklyn, New York

It was quiet.

But...it wasn't the world is just silent right now quiet. It was heavy, just shy of tangible.

James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky to his friends, frowned at the silence unsure why the quiet unsettled him that morning. The sun drifted through the cloudy windows of Saint Catherine's Lost Home for Boys in a hazy laziness that only seemed to add to the heavy silence of the lobby. It was almost oppressive. He bit back a sigh as he turned his attention to the paperwork he needed to fill out, lightly twirling a pen through his fingers as he read.

Official release documents – at eighteen-years-old James Barnes could no longer and would no longer be considered a ward of the great state of New York.

Bucky had known this day would come, had known he would have to say goodbye to the only stable home he ever had. He had thought he would feel angry about this day or maybe sad. He had thought he would feel something more than a slight dread and muted indifference. Maybe it was the fact that he knew the orphanage could never be a true home, a place to come back to when life became too much as he grew older. Hell, when he had arrived he hadn't intended to stay as long as he had, it was just…it was just the world seemed to have other plans for him.

If he was being completely honest with himself, the orphanage had stopped being home over a year ago. Maybe that was why he felt so indifferent to this whole process.

The lack of funding that Saint Cat's had received in the past few years had caused Bucky to ease away from the system long before it was ready to release him. The parish fought for every penny to feed and dress the growing number of children under its care. Yet, he hadn't felt right taking those meals and clothes when he knew he could take care of himself. He had spent his spare time working odd shifts down at the docks and at various diners in the area. Whatever work he could find he would take. He probably would have dropped out of school, if not for his entirely too lecture-friendly best friend - Steve Rogers would drag him off to class whenever necessary. James smirked, he had graduate by the skin of his teeth and he knew it. School was for the smart cats like Steve, not dumb bastards like him.

Not dumb bastards like him.

The paperwork seemed to glare up at him in stark black and white confirmation of that thought. James sighed resignedly, not entirely sure where his head was at as he finally lifted his hand to scrawl messily across the bottom of the page.

It was official now – he was no longer a lost boy, only a lost man. He snorted quietly, somehow that seemed far worse.

A muffled cough disturbed the oppressive silence and made Bucky blink up from his release papers directly into the sad green eyes of Sister Madeleine. He had forgotten she had been waiting for him to finish. The old Sister seemed to fade into the framework of the lobby. Always a part of the structure, but infinitely her own. Bucky pushed a small smile to his lips as he handed her the papers. Neither seemed to want to disturb the odd silence of the lobby as they waited for the other to speak. They didn't have to – the sound of shallow steps and a light grunt caught their ears as they turned toward the hallway entrance. Bucky nearly rolled his eyes.

"Stevie, what're you doing?" James sighed tiredly as he watched his best friend trudge into the lobby of the orphanage carrying a duffel that was almost as big as him.

The shorter blonde sent James a pointed look that said he shouldn't be surprised. In truth, Bucky wasn't. He had half-expected Steve to show up at the boarding house with a room key already in hand. In their almost decade long friendship and adopted brotherhood there wasn't much that Steve Rogers could do that Bucky didn't see coming, "You didn't seriously think I would stay here with Richie Long and Herman Dutt, did you?"

Bucky didn't even blink at the mention of Steve's long time tormentors, knowing it was a smokescreen. He merely quirked a brow, "And here I thought you three had made nice."

Steve snorted, "There's making nice and then there's being friendly, Buck." He paused as he ruffled through his coat to pull out paperwork that looked suspiciously like the documents that Bucky had just signed before handing them over to Sister Madeleine, "Sides, it's not like I'd be staying here much longer."

Bucky frowned as Steve glanced at him with a sly smile and certain spark in his blue eyes. Steve had at least another ten months before his release papers would need to be signed. He pursed his lips in question when the light bulb finally went on, "You got it. You got the scholarship."

Steve nodded almost shyly and Bucky just about crowed. Somehow, Steve had managed to graduate a year early with Bucky. James hadn't questioned it. He knew how determined his best friend could be and that he was smart enough to understand all the extra work. But the scholarship to Columbia...The scholarship had been a goal of Steve's since they had started high school. Bucky knew it had to do with a promise Steve had made to his mother before she passed...but Columbia.

Suddenly, leaving Saint Cat's didn't seem as unsettling. He grinned widely at his friend as he snatched his duffel up from the ground. Once again forgetting Sister Madeleine's presence as he nudged Steve in the shoulder, "This calls for a celebration. Let's go get some breakfast down at Mel's."

"We can't afford Mel's." Steve stated dryly as he followed Bucky's lead, unable to keep his small prideful smile from his lips.

Bucky just chuckled, "I think Cassie is working this morning. She'll get us something. We're celebrating Stevie. Man, you just got into Columbia. You'll be rubbing elbows with the blue-bloods soon enough."

"God, I hope not." Steve muttered amused. He tried not to shake his head at Bucky's excitement. He hadn't even been that happy when he received his acceptance letter, but it was good to see that smile. He hadn't seen Bucky smile at much lately. Swallowing tightly as the duo stepped outside he reached into the side of his bag and pulled out an envelope, "Here."

James frowned curiously as he took the wrinkled envelope. There wasn't paper inside. The contents too bulky and hard in his grasp, "What's this?"

But even as he asked, his fingers were prying open the flap to let loose two brass keys. He knew these keys. Steve almost fidgeted in place as he met Bucky's sharp gaze, "Aunt Mabel never sold Mom's apartment... just packed up and headed home to Oklahoma after...well after. And we need a place, so."

"Stevie..." Bucky started, unsure what he wanted to say, but knowing he should say something. Sarah Rogers had died in her apartment after a long drawn out battle with a sickness that he could barely understand. He couldn't see Steve living there...not after everything, "We can find another place."

"Like where, Buck? The boarding house you've been going to?" Steve pushed stodgily, "A roof is a roof, right? I can deal."

"The boarding house ain't so bad." Bucky murmured tiredly, because he couldn't quiet see Steve living there either.

Steve shrugged, he wouldn't admit that he didn't want to live in his mom's old run down box of an apartment, but he also wasn't ready to sell it yet. He hadn't even finished going through her things and she had passed over two years ago, "The apartment ain't so bad either, jerk."

James had a few reservations about that statement, but he wouldn't fight about it with Steve. Not now, maybe not ever. Instead he rolled his eyes and slung his arm around Steve's shoulder, "So, how long have you known about the scholarship, ya punk?"

"A week."

"A week? You didn't tell me for a week? You really are a punk, you know that?"

Steve snickered, "I think you'll get over it."

"Nah, we have a week worth of celebration to do now." Bucky said boastfully as he pushed his thoughts and Steve's away from Sarah Rogers.

Steve nearly rolled his eyes as he held in a groan. He had a week of Bucky trying to drag him out to a club or with a girl now. It wasn't the worst fate in the world, but he was sure it would be the most exhausting. The two sniped at each other as they walked. Their feet automatically moving where they needed.

The duo made it halfway to Mel's Diner when Steve snorted and nudged his friend, "Hey Buck?"

"Yeah?"

"Happy Birthday."

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1935 Kingston, New York

It was an unbearably hot morning. The sun seemed to be reminding the world that it was a giant ball of burning gas. Well maybe not the world, but the heat was definitely making its presence known to the small group segregated in a cemetery just outside of Kingston. Elena Turner stifled a sigh as she tried not to tug at the sleeves of her mourning dress. The satiny material didn't breathe and was beginning to cling to her skin…she wished the preacher would talk faster, this farce of a funeral needed to be over. She felt her cousin shift uncomfortably next to her and knew that he too was becoming impatient. She couldn't help, but turn to look at him. His eyes were glazed red and glaring miserably at the wooden coffin perched before them. He had foregone any pretense at being composed and was pulling clumsily at his collar.

Elena supposed it was for the best, Howard was supposed to be playing the role of the grieving son. She doubted that anyone, but herself and a few servants, knew that his pallid complexion and bloodshot eyes were the result from a night of drinking in celebration, rather than crying in sorrow. He was beyond hungover and the strange heat was doing nothing to make him better. She only hoped that he wouldn't do something incredibly…stupid.

"Stop fidgeting." Elena warned quietly, "There are more than enough people staring at you."

"I think I'm going to throw up." Howard murmured uneasily as he continued to pull at his collar. He could care less about the people watching him. He had spent the past week in a wild state of relief, shock and horror and it was almost over. As soon as the coffin was in the ground, he could move on.

"Please don't." Elena said with a small grimace, "I told you not to drink so much last night."

He rolled his eyes and instantly regretted it as the sensation of a million needles pierced his skull, "How was I supposed to know it would be such a wretched morning? Isn't it supposed to rain at funerals?...God, I'm dying."

"You're not dying, you big baby. Besides, I think the world is rather happy that your father is no longer in it, I know I am." Elena muttered lightly as she watched the preacher finally close his bible and step back from the coffin to let the gravediggers have access.

Howard nearly cried in relief at the sight of the slightly grungy men, "Give me a break. The only person mourning daddy dearest is your mother."

As if the woman in question could hear his words from across the aisle of folding chairs, Vitoria Turner, sister of Howard Stark Senior, let out an awful screeching sob. Elena was sure the entire congregation cringed at the sound as she tried to hold back a groan of disgust. She could see her older brother, Fergus, quickly coming to her mother's aid with a handkerchief. It wasn't even eleven in the morning and already the day was too long.

"Think she'll still be crying when she finds out that father left her out of his will?" Her cousin murmured amusedly as he watched the spectacle his aunt was making.

"Yes, except then the tears will be real." Elena muttered dryly as she turned her attention back to the lowering of the casket. She honestly didn't want to think about her mother receiving that news. The woman was intolerable on a good day; on a bad day, Vitoria Turner could make Satan cry, "Can I stay with you when that happens?"

Howard sent her a sympathetic look, "Do you even have to ask, Birdie? You're always welcome in my home." He tugged at his collar again, "My God, what is with this heat? It's barely even May. I swear this is my father's doing. He's making sure I'm miserable even when he's gone."

"Don't say that!" Elena whispered harshly as she went pale at the thought of her uncle still having any influence on the world.

She sensed Howard's sharp eyes studying her and suddenly felt her stomach roll with silent shame. He hadn't been the only one to have a tumultuous week. She had been bouncing between the same emotions he had, the only difference was that Elena knew they would not be able to move on as easily as her cousin seemed to think. Her eyes drifted back towards the rectangular hole in the ground, and suddenly, her dress wasn't the only thing unable to breathe. What had she done?

As if he knew what she was thinking, Howard quickly grasped her hand and squeezed her fingers. Her blue gaze quickly snapped to him, but all Howard could do was shake his head. Don't fall apart now, he was silently trying to tell her. Not yet.

"Where's that flask you snatched this morning?" He whispered instead, no longer meeting her stare. If he had, then he would have seen the exasperated disbelief that sparked in her blue orbs.

"I'm not giving you anymore alcohol."

Howard bit back a smile as he heard the annoyance coating her voice. However, he hadn't been asking for the flask for himself to use, but for her. Elena could use a little alcohol to calm her nerves. He turned to explain this to her, but was only able to get his mouth open when another resounding screech was heard from the other side of the aisle as the mourners began to stand for final farewells.

Elena glared at him, "If I have to deal with my mother sober, then so do you."

Howard wisely kept his mouth shut and stood to receive the forming line of condolence wishes. Suddenly, he wished she had given him the flask. In a perfect world, he would not have had to arrange a funeral at the age of sixteen. His eyes drifted toward the now lowered casket that had induced Elena's minor panic moments before, but then he should not have killed his father either. His hands went clammy and the headache he had been nursing all morning seemed to become even more unbearable. He just needed to get past today. A moment later, he felt Elena come to his side. Her hand lightly tapped his elbow to let him know that she was there if he needed her. He smiled gratefully at her.

"Uncle Leo is here." Elena whispered as he began to shake hands, "He'll take us back to the house once we're done here."

Howard nodded his understanding as he spared another glance toward his father's grave. As he glanced back at the mourners, he caught Elena's gaze. A look of grim understanding passed between them.

No one could know.

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bittersculs-blog · 5 years

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𝓂𝒾𝓈𝒸 𝒶𝓅𝓅 ( ben barnes. cismale, he/him, fast talk - houses. ) supposedly, MELCHIOR AVERY is a DRAGON. they look like they're 35, they act like they’ve been on earth for 35 years. i just saw them at THE NEW YORK TIMES, i think they’re a CRIME REPORTER there. at night you can always find them going home to STATEN ISLAND by BUS.

BACKGROUND

The Avery’s are an ancient line of dragons that take pride in their lineage. In New York, they’re a mob. Think The Westies but for DRAGONS - called, you guessed it, “The Dragons”

Melchior is the oldest son of Marius Avery, a man deeply involved with the The Dragons that worked at one of New York’s biggest financiers. His mother passed during childbirth. Melchior was doted upon and loved unconditionally. He was not spoiled, but he had learned to expect a certain comfort in life.

At age 13, Melchior was shipped off to England - Marius told him it was so that he could go to boarding school to finish his education. For the good of the The Dragons.

Melchior attended Eton, despite his rambunctious protests (which included running away quite a few times.) He harbored a bitter resentment towards everything that the Dragons stood for - blaming them for taking the happy father he remembered from his childhood. He barely passed through most of school, spending more time in the principal’s office than class.

In college, he discovered he had quite a head for business—at least the negotiation side of things. His natural charm and intellect impressed most of his professors—even if his testing results lacked a reflection of this.

Earning his masters felt—for a fleeting moment—like a weight lifted off his shoulders. But then, his father drew him aside, congratulated him and welcomed him to the Dragons. Marius had been so proud. Melchior had not been sure at the time, how to tell this near stranger that he never wanted this. Instead, he smiled at his father and pulled him into a hug. At the celebration for his graduation in New York, Melchior felt like an outsider at his own party - so many faces he knew as a child that were not recognizable any more came up to congratulate him on something he did not feel he’d earned.

He started working at his father’s firm - that’s what his head for business was good at - but he found his real passion at night: Melchior started up a midnight news show, based out of Staten Island. There, he reported on the latest happening in the supernatural community. This, surprisingly, worked for a few years. He grew in number of fans and enemies.

Life took a tragic turn one night.

It was a hit and run. All he remembers is the gunfire, catching some of the crossfire… then, waking up in a hospital bed. His dad, dead. It was a hate crime against the Dragons, but the perpetrators were able to find out about Marius’ location through Melchior’s show. Melchior blamed himself. If only he’d kept away from reporting...

He stayed for the funeral. The day after, he left a note for the rest of his family and The Dragons: “Gone, but not far. Please don’t look for me. Will check in soon.”

That was the last time he had contact with The Dragons. He took his money and a single bag and fled on the first international flight - no plan, no hesitance. He traveled for months, wandering from country to country, living in hotel rooms, making friends everywhere he went. His shadow of their guilt followed him. Whenever people began to ask questions, he ran.

Eventually, his demons caught up with him. HE returned to New York, to his childhood home to find the city still being torn apart by hunters and other creatures. He decided then that the best way to hide was in plain sight. Getting an apartment on Staten Island, he settled in to live with his demons.

Now he’s taken up a reporting position at the New York Times under a false name “Melchior Hart.”

The tarot card murder has inspired him to bring back his news channel.

He’s unsure about how long this will last.

He is still consumed by guilt.

ABOUT (TL;DR)

Comes from a mob family of Dragons, grew up in it. His father practically ran it and he was next in line to do so.

Went to school in England, came back essentially to run The Dragons. Hated just about every second of it. Started up a midnight talk show to keep the supernatural community informed and his heart went into this side passion project.

His father died as a result of his reporting. Melchior left the country without really telling anyone out of guilt.

Is back now, has completely distanced himself from his family.

Has returned to reporting - taken up a job as a crime reporter at the New York Times.

Is wary, but has also started up his radio news hour for the supernatural community because he feels like it’s needed - especially after this latest tarot murder.

PERSONALITY / OTHER

when he introduce himself, he introduces himself by his alias “Melchior Hart.” He is WRACKED with guilt over his father’s death and are hesitant to connect themselves to the Avery name right now.

may have distanced himself from the Dragons, but grew up learning every aspect of the gang

has a smile like the sun. has often been described as cheeky.

LOVES being a dragon. Will often take out a little boat and then fly over the ocean - away from prying eyes. Usually waits for cloud cover to do so.

as stated above, has a good head for business due to natural charm and charisma

hates sending emails, would rather just go talk to someone about a memo

loves being active, hates being bored. big on team sports and camping

is always down for a game of pool

has a heart for adventure and travel but always comes back to homebase

is a hugger

is a pretty snazzy dresser. has some posh instilled into them

bit of a daredevil, will do stupid shit while drunk

natural flirt

skilled in the art of denial

has PTSD, ADHD, and depression (all undiagnosed)

Has some shrapnel scars from the day their dad died

Is really about building a bright future for supernaturals to co-exist here in New York

“call me mel”

WANTED CONNECTIONS -

give me angst!!! exes, family members, members of the mob he might have know, coworkers at the NYT or anyone that might work with someone who was a reporter - give me it all!

#nightsbound:intro #( MY DRAGON BOY !! )#( -- melchior avery ; fast talk )

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