revivalproject | delivery

Entry tags:

delivery

WHO: Tony Stark, Cloud Strife, technically open if you want to hang
WHERE: The forge? I don't know the structure of this post eludes me, it might be just network, I might just be setting up a bunch of interactions for Cloud to have with everyone else like a benevolent god
WHAT: Tony's been making things and has packages for Reeve, Tommy, Sansa and Jon, and he's not doing all of that walking himself.
WARNINGS: It is genuinely not my fault that all of Tony's posts are horny and you should just expect it now.

a text to Cloud

hey

where are you?

you want a job, right?

Come to the forge.

Outside of the forge, sitting in front of the closed door very pointedly, were five lumpy bundles, the wrapping of these clearly not Tony's strong suit. One of them seemed to be just in a big leaf. They were all labled with thin tags of impressed aluminum tied or just placed on top for Cloud to figure out where they were supposed to go with just a name-- the rest, like who any of these people were and where to find them, was Cloud's job to figure out, apparently.

At least one of them should have been pretty easy.

C L O U D
It was...a chocobo? Or how Tony remembered a chocobo looking from the glance at it in Reeve's memory. Small, grey and surprisingly heavy, it wound up to go bouncing away on weirdly articulated legs. Did Tony think he was paying Cloud?

R E E V E
It's a head.
This might be what Tony thought a cat skull looked like. It wasn't much like the design he had left for Mini-C's skeletal structure in Reeve's sketchbook, he obviously had some time, and the obsessive insomnia turned to 11 after the sleep glut and nowhere to pour his creative energy, to take a more detailed turn, and he would have used the energy to make more of the structure but they were still tight on materials. What he did make was a few servos, dangling from the skull shape like a disembodied nerve system, and a prototype pair of hands tucked safely into the dome, too delicate to be very useful to Mini, but responding to their programming housed in the skull. The systems were done, was the point.

T O M M Y
Was this what he meant by hydroponics? It wasn't like Tony had managed to miss that bit of drama on the network. It wasn't assembled, a bunch of disparate pieces that didn't come with instructions, but a note that only read 'you need a tube'.

S A N S A
This bundle had a pair of brass combs in it, stamped, much like the labels on the packages, with roses. If Sansa hadn't figured out how to keep her hair from being a mess, maybe this would be a reminder.

J O N
A very tiny little knot of a rag, about as big as the label that sat under it, and felt light enough to be empty.
It seemed to only contain a gold chain.

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What? [Like he's scandalized this wasn't the first thing she did when she got it.] That's how I break in all of the new cars.

[She couldn't possibly have something sad to say about cars, but Sansa is remarkably talented there. Maybe talking isn't a great idea.]

I wouldn't try to usurp you, though, you sit right where you belong. We can find out tomorrow how long you could stay composed while I take my time devouring you.

( The day comes and goes and so does tomorrow afternoon, which goes better than Sansa expects. The physical part, at least, isn’t complicated at all. She lays flat on her back, still trying to catch her breath. )

I’ve not done that in six moons, you know. I think I was a bit out of practice.

Me neither.

[This is not strictly true, but Sansa didn't have to be wondering where Tony was finding women in this city to indulge himself with, and might reasonably explain why he lingered so close, sitting up still between her thighs where he could continue to lavish his attention with his lips to her knee and hands on her hips. He would peel himself away when he has finished all that catching up he has to do, honest. He tips his head against her leg to watch the slowing of her breathing with a smile.]

Are we out of time?

You're likely a liar and no, we're not out of time. Like I said, the house is ours the entire afternoon.

( Sansa doesn't mind where he is right now even if she's reasonably sure they're finished for now and she reaches down to ruffle Tony's hair affectionately. )

I've never done it this way before. Without...I don't want to say without feelings, we care about each other, but without being married.

[The ruffle makes him chuckle, then sigh happily, relaxing against her thigh hugged to his chest to take this time he's been promised.]

We don't really do that anymore. In the--I guess I don't actually know what your future is like, but your world sounds a lot like my past, and we got over the waiting-until-marriage thing. At least, where I'm from, mostly. It's complicated.

[What the hell is he trying to say?]

I don't know if I would be able to marry someone unless I knew this was going to work. I know I'm good at talking, but I don't know how to say a lot, so...

[He finally stills, just his fingers tapping restlessly against her leg, not sure if she could hear the apology in them.]

You know you can talk to me, don't you? It didn't really change because this happened. I hope not, anyway, because that wasn't my intention.

( By this she supposes he must mean the bedding part of it and she agrees - if a man isn't good here, why should she marry him? She doesn't have to marry anyone anymore unless she just wants to and right now she doesn't want to. )

Or is it that you're so overwhelmed by getting to finally have me that you're tongue-tied?

[That's the opposite of what he's trying to say, so maybe she has a point.]

Little worn out, maybe.

[He grins and resumes his idle petting up her thigh, trying to shrug off what is making him hard to understand.]

I fuck up, constantly, and that's on me, because I don't trust--I could have just trusted you yesterday to know what you wanted, and instead you were getting pissed at me--I don't feel like I can't tell you anything right now, though. Is that--maybe that's just me. You're always really open with me, aren't you?

I am open with you, even when it would be more proper for a lady of my status to not be so open with her words. There's not anyone else I would let see me naked and while you don't know everything that's happened to me, you've seen enough of my body today to make some educated guesses.

( Sansa shifts a bit and tucks a pillow behind her so that she doesn't have to move her legs but has a little more reach with her hands. She combs her fingers through his hair, massages his scalp a bit. )

You trust me, don't you? I trust you with me. Perhaps you ought to just entrust yourself to me until you think you can handle it again, Tony. Everyone ought to have a place where they don't have to worry about themselves.

[He wants to ask what he did to deserve that openness, but doesn't really want to know the answer because he is sure he would hate himself for it even if Sansa didn't realize it. It wasn't like he wouldn't do it again. The scars were telling, not surprising, and weren't anything he hadn't seen before either, but not a kind of familiarity that would stop him from being heartsick later over not being able to polish them away, making him raise his eyebrows apologetically when she offers her trust.

He slides out of his hug around her leg to fold himself forward and press his face against her chest, tucking his arms under her around the pillow instead.]

I don't know if I'll ever be able to handle it, mama, that's a big offer. Letting me take care of you means a lot, though, it helps. You might be the bravest one of all of us, you know that?

You're doing the thing again, Tony, the thing where I'm untouchable. I'm not. I'm just a little bird here, I'm not a queen.

( Sansa combs through his hair a little longer before moving her hands to rub at his neck and shoulders a little. If he's struggling with something, she ought to try and do something to ease it even if she can't do that emotionally. )

I've had my mouth all over you. I think that means you can call me Sansa, if you want.

Sansa, Sansa, Sansaaa...

[If he sings it, is that enough? This whole planet has such a problem with petnames. He tips his head to meet her eye with a grin, cheek still pressed to her.]

I'm not doing that, I swear, I'm trying to tell you something. Listen. With the amount of hurt you talk about, you should be cold as ice. You shouldn't have ever let me near you. How else am I supposed to take that?

That I trust you and I care about you. That's how you ought to take it, I guess.

( Sansa grins at him and laughs a little. He's absolutely ridiculous but perhaps she needs a bit more ridiculous in her life these days. She could easily fall into melancholy if she wanted to but she has to be strong for James, strong for her family here, strong to keep her mask on. Laughing isn't such a terrible thing. )

If you're going to call me all these names that aren't my name, I guess I should call you some. You call me "Mama" all the time. Does that make you Daddy, then? Or does it not go that way?

[He did hear her the first time, but it really doesn't hurt to hear it again, even if Tony can't hold her eye and nuzzles his smile into her chest again. That's where he starts to laugh, not sure how she got to 'daddy', really, and if it had the same connotations where she came from.]

I don't think it goes that way, no. I didn't have a baby, that was all you. The little guy's going to have a weird enough life without starting that. Do boyfriends get called 'daddy' in Westeros? You guys must do some weird shit like that, tell me the worst.

( Sansa colors, yes, but she'd been in the care of Littlefinger long enough to know what men pay for in a brothel and the best thing little birds can do is listen when they can't fly free. Men share secrets on the pillows, after all, but she'd had to listen to the rest of it through the walls too. )

Some do. I've only ever been with two and neither of them wanted that. Tyrion was normal and only called me Sansa or Sweetling - normal things. The other one is nothing and no one. Men like to be called "my lord," even if they own the most pitiful piece of land there is. A man who wanted me but never had me wanted me to call him Uncle.

( She doesn't stop touching him throughout, fingers sliding through his hair and down his neck to rub a bit. She likes to touch and he seems to like it. )

Should I call you something? Not Daddy, I was only joking about that, but is there something you like? I'd like to make you happy, if I can.

['My Lord' makes complete sense to Tony, but 'uncle' is a step weird enough that he has to look up again with a grimace to make sure she isn't fucking with him, and sticks his tongue out. Certainly the worst, and a shade too close to recognizable than Tony was hoping for from this answer.]

I don't usually workshop the things I call people, it just sort of comes out. Does it make you happy then? I've got plenty. My last girlfriend mostly called me 'son of a bitch', is that something?

Your last girlfriend was an idiot, to start. Though, she is your last girlfriend and I'm your current...something so there's a reason I'm current and she is not.

( Sansa bops the end of his nose when he looks up and yes, it was meant to be as disgusting as he'd taken it. She had thought it disgusting herself. Calling Tony something is a pleasant prospect so she thinks for a moment. )

I'll just have to think it over, Mr. Stark, as you spend more time with me and show me your particular mannerisms. I'll find something eventually, I'm sure.

[That pause after 'current' is just a little too long for Tony's comfort, and his panic impulse is to wiggle himself free of his hug again to spread his hands up her back and pull her up into sitting with him. 'Something' isn't great, but does lower the adrenaline dosage enough so he's only mumbling] She wasn't wrong...

[Or an idiot, just went and died on him. It wasn't a healthy choice to get that close to 'girlfriend', and it's not really a healthy choice to talk about it, so he uses his new position to keep Sansa held upright with a generous handful of her ass and kisses his way across her breast to tease her nipple to a peak.]

I believe that can be arranged, I think some time can be found on the calendar for such an important matter.

( Sansa tries to say something else but it drops off into a sigh as she just enjoys herself instead. She expects this is to stop a conversation and honestly, it's probably a clever move on both their parts. )

Mm. Mayhap I'll just describe you instead. Persistent. Clever. Magnificent. I think I'm getting close. I just need to think a little more.

Is this helping?

[He snickers because the attention definitely is not helping, and he is also not stopping.]

You sound like you're naming a wizard now.

No, it's not, and such is my punishment in life to be subjected to you kissing me. As for the name, well. It'll come to me eventually. I hope so, anyway. It feels really impersonal to not have a lover's name for you.

( Especially since he's had half a dozen for her before they were remotely close to this. )

For now, though, I'm a little bird and you're my keeper. I'll fly away but I always come back.

['Lover's name' is also hard on Tony's heart, but he only gets as far as teasing his fingers between her thighs, testing how wet she still is before he's drawing away again to hold her up with his head cocked thoughtfully, not sure if that was a request for a compliment. Maybe. He hasn't dropped one in a little while.]

There's a lot of very sexy things about you right now, but I think the sexiest might be that your house is going to be full of people again soon and you're going to be perfectly poised like nothing happened. Am I right?

No one will know you were here at all. Should I risk not taking a bath? There's a chance my soldier will be able to tell, after all. His senses are more enhanced than mine.

( Sansa doesn't think they'd discuss it, though, so there's no one to hide from if it does happen. )

Other than that, I will be the utter portrait of composed. I'll be more queenly than I've ever been.

And that you've been hiding this cruel streak, that's also very sexy.

[He's giggling, not about to be the one to advise her either way how much she should be teasing the poor guy, Tony didn't know what he was getting out of this relationship with Sansa. He tips her back snuggly onto her pillow to finally peel himself away, arching his head and shoulders back off of the bed to stretch where he had been wound up tightly around her and hang upside down with a satisfied groan.]

Should I ask if you're going to be okay?

I won't be. You're going to leave and I'm going to be all alone again, pining for your touch.

( It's playful and sarcastic, though, not serious, and she touches what of his body she can reach. )

You're going to come back soon, aren't you?

[Grabbing blindly for her wandering hands is as much of an impulse as it is Tony's answer to her question.]

Seriously. You're okay?

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theladyofwinterfell - 2020-07-29 18:52 (UTC) - Expand

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