𝔻ancing with the 𝔻evil ❪ ⁿ ˢ ᶠ ʷ ❫ ┆ reverie. & father figure

[reverie.]

. D A N C I N G  W I T H  T H E  D E V I L a roleplay by reverie.  &  father figure   C O N T A I N S  N S F W  E L E M E N T S   A summary will come soon. ​

 

[reverie.]

..

audrie andrews. ʙ ᴇ ɪ ɴ ɢ  ɢ ᴏ ᴏ ᴅ  ᴅ ᴏ ᴇ ꜱ ɴ ' ᴛ  ɢ ᴇ ᴛ  ʏ ᴏ ᴜ  ᴀ ɴ ʏ ᴛ ʜ ɪ ɴ ɢ .   niece    //    22    //    waitress   Audrie was used to bending the rules—sometimes even breaking them—but this time she might have crossed a line. And she knew it. But she was confident that she could get away with it. It wouldn't be the first time she had gotten away with something outrageous. Probably wouldn't be the last either. When her friends had started pestering her about throwing a pool party—after she'd mentioned spending a weekend by the pool—she'd been reluctant at first. But after learning that the house would be empty the following weekend, she'd eventually given in. The only problem was that it wasn't her pool. It wasn't even her house. She'd told her friends that she was allowed to use the pool whenever she wanted, but that couldn't have been further from the truth. They all met at the house that Saturday around noon, Audrie and her friends had a blast in the pool first, then by the pool, but when the evening settled in, they moved inside to the living room. Their swimsuits were spread across the living room, hanging over chairs and on cabinet knobs. They'd all changed into something more comfortable—something dry. Audrie was cuddled up in the corner of the couch in an oversized t-shirt with only a matching lingerie set underneath. Lauren and Mia sat next to her in their own pajamas, sharing a blanket. Chris and Benjamin—also known as Benji—sat on the other side of the couch without their shirts, while Will was currently seated in an armchair on the other side of the table in only his boxers. The chair wasn't supposed to be there, but he'd moved it for the occasion. Audrie would make sure it was moved back to its original location later. There was barely any space left on the coffee table. It was packed with tin cans, bottles, bags of chips, snacks, chocolate bars and all sorts of shit. Not to mention everything that was on the floor. They were in the middle of a round of Never have I ever when the doorbell rang. Audrie got to her feet. It had to be the pizza they'd ordered a while ago. "I'll get it!" She knew there was a chance that this pizza delivery guy was the one who was hot as hell and she wouldn't miss an opportunity to flirt with him. Maybe this time he'd invite her out. "Don't forget to wipe the drool off your chin!" Lauren called after her. Audrie flipped her off over her shoulder. The others chuckled. She had such great friends. The shock on her face when she opened the door was undeniable. She recognized the man standing on the porch in a split second. It was definitely not the pizza delivery guy. She never thought she'd live to experience the day she was scared to see her own uncle. A sliver of fear reflected in her eyes as she flashed him one of her signature grins, pretending to be happy to see him. And maybe—just maybe—she would have been. . . if it hadn't been his door she had opened. "Uncle Jerry," she greeted him, trying her best to conceal her initial shock. "What are you doing here?" As if she had the right to ask him what he was doing outside his own house. But what she really meant was what was he doing there now? He was supposed to be out of town. But if anyone should be asking that question, it was him. Because he was probably wondering what she was doing there. She and her small group of friends who she wished would shut the fuck up right about now. "Stop flirting with the guy—I'm starving!" Benji shouted from the living room. Audrie pretended she didn't hear it. Her eyes were locked on her uncle's as if trying to figure out exactly how pissed he was at her for borrowing his house to host a party without his permission. Audrie leaned against the doorframe, blocking the entrance. This might be his house, but there was just no fucking way she was inviting him in when they had thrashed his living room with booze, snacks and . . . wet clothes.​

 

[Father Figure]

..

jeremiah milton. ᴘ ᴏ ᴡ ᴇ ʀ  ʙ ᴇ ʟ ᴏ ɴ ɢ ꜱ  ᴛ ᴏ  ᴛ ʜ ᴏ ꜱ ᴇ  ᴡ ʜ ᴏ  ᴛ ᴀ ᴋ ᴇ  ɪ ᴛ .   uncle    //    46    //    investor   Jeremiah Milton was not a man easily taken by surprise. In his line of work, as a real estate investor, he had learned to anticipate every possibility. His weekend trip to Boston was supposed to have been another one of those ventures, an exclusive deal for a waterfront property that had seemed airtight. But deals could unravel just as quickly as they came together, and when the financing had collapsed at the last minute, there had been nothing left for him in the city but wasted time. So, he had returned home early, the thought of an empty house, a quiet evening, offering a faint reprieve from the frustration of the failed negotiation. Except, the house was not empty. Jeremiah Milton’s car rolled to a stop in front of his house, the slow crunch of gravel beneath the tires an unwelcome prelude to the sight before him. The house stood as it always had, tall and angular with its sharp lines and modern design but something was certainly amiss. There were unfamiliar cars parked along the street in front of his house and his hand immediately picked up his phone to begin dialing the police to report a potential break in before his brow furrowed. There was a brief second before his mind provided some context, realizing one of the vehicles belonged to his niece, Audrie Andrews. Jeremiah’s thumb hovered briefly over the icon to place the call before clicking his phone shut. A pulse of irritation surged beneath his skin. How dare she? Audrie knew the kind of man Jeremiah was, or at least generally his temperament which most would not find amiable. Jeremiah was not a man given to whimsical anger, nor was he prone to rash conclusions. His life was lived in careful calculations, a methodical existence driven by logic, investment, and measured risk. He owned properties by the dozen, and rarely did any of them present surprises. But this, his home, the one place that offered sanctuary from the world, was supposed to remain untouched, especially in his absence. His privacy was not something to be pissed away by an imbecilic twenty-something. The sanctity of his home was not the currency which they could spend so frivolously. Jeremiah stepped out of the car, his shoes striking the gravel with a deliberate, unhurried cadence. There was no hesitation in his stride as he shut the car door behind him. His frame, tall and lean from years of discipline, moved with a controlled, almost predatory grace. Each step was calculated, every movement precise, as though this small disruption of order had activated something sharper within him. He was dressed casually for the business trip that had not materialized. A fitted gray shirt that clung to his athletic form, the sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, paired with dark slacks that spoke of efficiency, of someone who never allowed the details to slip. A pair of polished loafers completed the look, their shine dulling only slightly from the dust that collected as he crossed the drive. His eyes remained fixed on the house ahead, his jaw tight, dark hair slicked back with an almost military exactness. Jeremiah’s lips pressed into a thin line; the set of his mouth grim. He was not the type to raise his voice, to storm into a room full of people. That was not his style. But the certainty of eviction was there, cold and absolute, a foregone conclusion. This was his home. He didn’t need to shout to make that clear. And when Audrie answered the door, she could see every bit of his cold anger as he stood in the entryway, eyes narrowing and staring down at her. Willing her to show some measure of consternation, some show of apology. His voice was clipped, dangerous as he spoke a few simple sentences, and as he spoke a finger rose to point directly at Audrie’s chest. “Your friends leave, you stay. Take care of it. Now.”​

 

[reverie.]

..

audrie andrews. ʙ ᴇ ɪ ɴ ɢ  ɢ ᴏ ᴏ ᴅ  ᴅ ᴏ ᴇ ꜱ ɴ ' ᴛ  ɢ ᴇ ᴛ  ʏ ᴏ ᴜ  ᴀ ɴ ʏ ᴛ ʜ ɪ ɴ ɢ .   niece    //    22    //    waitress   Audrie didn't know what she had expected. It wasn't like she would be pleased to find out someone was having a party in her apartment without her knowing about it. But her uncle was supposed to be out of town this weekend, and his house was so big she honestly didn't see the problem in her borrowing a small portion of it—all right, maybe she did. She just didn't want to admit how wrong it had been even to assume it would be okay. The reason she hadn't asked in the first place was because she knew he would say no. But then again, he wasn't supposed to find out. But, it was clear as day that her uncle was not pleased with her and his reaction was perfectly reasonable. So, when he eventually opened his mouth to give her instructions, she knew she'd only make things worse if she tried to argue with him. "All right," she muttered under her breath as she turned her back to him. Her good mood was long gone when she made her appearance in the living room. "Where's the pizza?" Benji asked when he saw her show up empty-handed. Audrie took a deep breath before she said, "You guys need to leave." There was no need to beat around the bush. Her uncle wanted them gone and it was obvious that he wanted them out of his house right fucking now. Lauren looked puzzled, but Mia looked worried, "What do you mean, leave?" Will chimed in, "Yeah, we can't leave now—we haven't eaten yet!" "Guys," Audrie said harshly. "You need to leave now." She couldn't remember ever talking to her friends like this, but they had to listen. She didn't want to find out what would happen if they stayed. I wasn't like they needed to see or hear her uncle giving her a speech about how irresponsible she'd been. Because that was what she was expecting from him—unless he decided to call her parents. Fuck, what would they think? No, Uncle Jerry wouldn't tell them, not if she asked him not to. "Please," she begged her friends. "Grab your clothes and call a cab. I'll pay for it." Audrie picked up some empty tin cans from the floor and placed them on the table. "I'll clean this up and you can pick up the cars tomorrow. Okay? Please." After meeting Mia's gaze, Audrie added, "My uncle came home early." That seemed to be enough explanation to get the girls moving, but the guys didn't budge. "Oh, come on—he can join us!" Chris exclaimed, but Mia hit him in the shoulder from behind. "Come on, guys," she said, encouraging the others to move their asses. "We can continue at my place. Audrie can join us when she's done here—" Mia looked over at her friend with a faint smile. "If you want to, of course. No pressure." Audrie smiled back at her, "If I'm done cleaning up this mess before it's too late, I'll join you." But Audrie had a feeling her uncle wouldn't let her leave before this place was spotless, and God knew how long that would take. Picking up another bottle from the floor, she looked over at Chris and Benji who had finally gotten up from the couch. "Have fun, all right? I'm sorry, guys—I really am. I'll make sure the pizza gets delivered to you so you don't starve." She forced out a laugh, trying to meet her friends' gazes. They all grabbed their swimwear, their drinks, and the remains of the snacks before they headed for the door. If her uncle was still there, her friends didn't say much to him as they passed him. Mia might have muttered a nice to meet you, while Will would have raised his beer in a cheers! Audrie watched them leave, but she remained in the living room. Her uncle would join her shortly anyway, but she wasn't planning on staying around for long now that her friends were gone. The faster she could clean this up, the faster she could join them at Mia's place. She was bent over the coffee table, shuffling cans and bottles around to find out which ones were empty and which ones weren't, when she heard his footsteps approaching. "Look," she began, "I know what you're going to say, and I'm sorry. I know I should have asked. . ." It wasn't really an apology, but close enough.​

 

[Father Figure]

..

jeremiah milton. ᴘ ᴏ ᴡ ᴇ ʀ  ʙ ᴇ ʟ ᴏ ɴ ɢ ꜱ  ᴛ ᴏ  ᴛ ʜ ᴏ ꜱ ᴇ  ᴡ ʜ ᴏ  ᴛ ᴀ ᴋ ᴇ  ɪ ᴛ .   uncle    //    46    //    investor   There was cold and then there was ice cold. The wintry look in his eyes as the young men and women filed out of his house could have frozen the countryside with its sharp glare. They were the same eyes of a man who might have taken them all out into his backyard and put a bullet in the back of their heads before burying them, and that harsh mien would leave a lasting impression that might haunt them even into their older years. It was the look that said he was memorizing them in case he ever needed to come pay them a visit, that he would never forget their faces, the kind of dangerous gleam that hinted he might come calling in the middle of the night to remind them that there were ways they could be punished for breaching his sanctuary. There was no need for words to be bandied or shared, no requirement to raise his voice and reprimand them, for it was not truly them who had broken the sanctity of his home. It was Audrie, and it was she who would soon be paying the price for that little fact. Jeremiah simply had not determined what that price was going to be. Instead, he stood like a judgmental guardian, lips thinly pressed together, hands clasped tightly behind his back until all had left the home and he was alone with his niece. Then, and only then, did he step inside and shut the door behind him. And then he paused, hearing Audrie inside cleaning up, and his head tilted as he considered. There was something distinctly alien about the man, like he was disconnected in the moment from anything remotely human, and some kind of decision was made as he ran through the calculations. There was a seething anger beneath that cold logic though, a feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach, and it was not something he was used to experiencing. His hand came up to touch the dead bolt, fingers moving across it as if giving a simple caress before he clicked it into place. The decision made he moved to lock the knob itself, and then to put the chain on. Last he turned to the alarm system, turning it on with the air of a man having made a rather confidant decision. All evidence suggested that her and her friends had broken in without his permission, and if Audrie chose to leave the premises without his say so then the authorities would become involved. Whether she knew it or not. The sound of his footsteps was a tolling bell as they clicked down the foyer to join her, his eyes narrowing as he heard her words. Sorry? Maybe she was, but it did not quite seem it. It seemed more that she was trying to shirk her responsibility in this tragedy as quickly as she could. His voice held a small measure of that unforgiving sound, every word laced with it as he chose them with infinite care. Like he was speaking to a child. “Do you think a simple apology will suffice, Audrie? That would require you to be truly apologetic, but the truth is simply that you are chagrined to have been caught in the act. Like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar.” His eyes glittered as he watched her, a small snarl coming to one side of his mouth as his lips twitched upwards like he was near growling even though no other physical aspect hinted at a feral physicality. But then he asked the question that really mattered. The only important question to ask. “Where did your friends go in my home?” ​

 

[reverie.]

..

audrie andrews. ʙ ᴇ ɪ ɴ ɢ  ɢ ᴏ ᴏ ᴅ  ᴅ ᴏ ᴇ ꜱ ɴ ' ᴛ  ɢ ᴇ ᴛ  ʏ ᴏ ᴜ  ᴀ ɴ ʏ ᴛ ʜ ɪ ɴ ɢ .   niece    //    22    //    waitress   Of course, she didn't think a simple apology would be enough, but what more did he want? It wasn't like she could turn back time and do things differently—even if she could, she'd probably do the exact same thing. The only difference would be to make sure they cleaned up and left earlier, moving the party somewhere else before he showed up. Audrie met his gaze and straightened her back as soon as she saw his expression. If he'd had a gun, she had a feeling he wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. Suddenly, she was very grateful for the short distance separating them. "You're right, okay?" she admitted, making her voice louder so she was sure it wouldn't break. "I thought I could pull this off, and I'm sorry. But it's not like I'm gonna leave it like this—" She waved a hand toward the messy table in front of her. "I'll leave it just like we found it. You won't even know we were here, I promise." It would take a bit longer to clean it up now that she didn't have her friends to help her, but she would make it spotless. But then he asked her a question she didn't quite see coming. Her expression changed from slightly apologetic and scared to straight-out confused. What exactly did he mean by that? Where did your friends go in my home? Why did it even matter? It wasn't like any of them were contagious. And after she was done cleaning, he wouldn't be able to tell anyone had been there. "I'm not sure how that's relevant, but let me walk you through our day, yeah?" She leaned backward and fell onto the couch, pulling her legs up and crossing them—not realizing how much of her thighs got exposed in that position. "We used the pool—" She waved a hand over her shoulder toward the pool outside. "Then we spent some time outside in the sun. We borrowed the sunbeds, some chairs, took some water from the fridge—wait, I think Benji actually grabbed a soda, but I'll pay you back for that, don't worry. And for the water. I was gonna replace all that stuff tomorrow anyway." She took a short pause, "Oh! And we grabbed some ice from the freezer." Perhaps he didn't want all the details, but she gave them to him anyway. "Then we went inside, and took turns in the shower—don't worry, we were quick. We used our own towels too." Another pause. "Then we changed into some dry clothes and have been sitting here ever since. I mean, we've been to the bathroom a few times, but that's it. Oh, and I think Will borrowed a bottle opener at some point, but I think he put it back." Her head turned to look towards the kitchen before they returned to him. "And this is yours by the way" she said, grabbing her t-shirt by the front—in case he hadn't recognized it yet. It was pretty basic so it might as well have been hers or someone else's. But since it was his and he hadn't given it to her, it meant she'd been in his bedroom where she'd gone through his wardrobe. She might even have opened more drawers than she'd needed to find something to wear, but she didn't tell him that. "Mia spilled her entire drink over me and I didn't want to sit in my underwear," she explained. "My clothes are in the bathroom." The young woman rested her hands in her lap and leaned back against the back of the couch, trying to read what her uncle made of it all. It must have been a lot to take in, especially if this wasn't what he'd wanted to know. "We've ordered pizza, so that's probably gonna be here any minute now." Now that she thought about it, she was fucking starving. ​